Work Text:
Innuendo
by Laura Jacquez Valentine
Logan looked up from his sandwich as Gambit sauntered into the kitchen. "Evenin'," he said, and was rewarded with a quick grin from his teammate.
"So it is, mon ami. And dat means time to play poker, non?" The tall Cajun leaned against the counter, flipping a card between his fingers. "Gambit was looking for you--you play wit us?"
Logan finished his sandwich and stood up. "Sure, Gumbo. But we use a new deck. Not that I don't trust ya--"
"--you t'ink I would cheat you? Pas moi, mon ami!"
"--but Rogue's another story."
Gambit snickered at that and bumped Logan lightly with his hip.
"Watch it, bub. My center of gravity is lower'n yours. I'll take you down."
Gambit shook his head. "I *wish*, mon ami." Then he grinned again, and Logan found himself grinning back.
"You already got a wife *and* a girlfriend, darlin'. I don't think you need a cranky old man to boot."
"Variety is the spice, n'est-ce pas? Maybe Gambit like dat."
"Maybe Gambit too much of a flirt. And no charging the cards when it's your deal."
Somehow, Gambit managed to look wounded.
~~~~~~
Gambit was definitely too much of a flirt, Wolverine thought to himself, watching Rogue turn an intriguing shade of red and Hank's eyes get wide.
"Remy," Hank said, reprovingly, "that's not anatomically possible."
"Non?" Gambit looked across the table, then down at his cards, his expression thoughtful. Logan wondered what he was up to, but he didn't have to wonder long. "The bet is to me. I bet one night in bed wit' me."
"Ya can't do that, sugah," Rogue protested. "We only play for money. And besides--"
"You must be pretty sure of yourself, Gumbo," Logan interrupted.
"Oui. Dis ole t'ief is *always* sure of himself, mon ami."
Logan smiled. "I call."
Rogue made a strangled noise, and Hank looked shocked.
"You call?" Gambit said, a crooked smile edging its way across his face. "You *call*, Wolvie?"
"I call."
"Den you better hope one of us wins--mon cher. I don' t'ink dese two wan' take us both." He laid his cards down. "Four kings."
Logan growled softly, then showed his own cards. "Straight flush. Ten high."
Rogue threw her hand down and stalked off. "Oh," said Hank. "Will you look at that. Two pair. I think I'll go now." He bounded out of the room with uncharacteristic haste, leaving Logan and Gambit staring after him.
Logan reached out and picked up Hank's hand. "Straight flush. Queen high." He looked at Gambit. "I think we've been rejected."
"Oui," said Gambit, who leaned back in his chair and lit a cigarette. He took a drag from it and quirked an eyebrow at Wolverine. "So, mon ami, I am yours for the night, non?" He stretched, and smiled again. "You want Gambit to show you dat position, n'est-ce pas?"
Logan stood and met Gambit's eyes. "I got a few of my own in mind."
Gambit laughed. "You show Gambit what one cranky ole man can do, cher?" He got up, and Logan tilted his head back.
"You're one long drink a'water, Remy."
"An' dey say good t'ings come in small packages--Logan."
"You're about to find out."
Gambit smiled and flicked his cigarette into the ashtray. "Charmed," he said, "I'm sure."
~~~ End ~~~