Disclaimer: The main characters are not mine, this is an amateur effort written purely for the fun of it, and no money has exchanged hands, and it is not intended to breach the copyright of Paramount and Pet Fly Publication Or Marvel Entertainment.

 

With thanks to Gail and Chrissie for your input, and for Connie for her beta reading, and for Mary for helping with the French.

All errors are mine.

 

This story takes places in the GDP universe after Blair Sandburg has gained his PhD.

 

Dark Guides are a more powerful and aggressive form of guide, they are soul mates of Dark Sentinels the most powerful and primal form of Sentinel.

 

Warning for adult language and implied adult situation, h/c.

 

Iry Lejeune The Definitive Collection, “Jolie Catin”  (Goldband 1952).

 

Soul Keeper 2

Brotherhood of the Dark Calling.

 

 

Xavier’s School for the gifted had gained a new student.  It was general knowledge that the new student had come in after being discovered by Detective Paul Taylor and his wife; he wasn’t the first and certainly would not be the last. 

 

But what only a few people were privy to was just exactly what had happened since his arrival, the fact that he had been planted at the School to steal information for Dr. Essex, a powerful mutant who’s views on Human and Mutant co-existence differed vastly from those of Professor Charles Xavier.

 

Gambit gave no other name; he was a six foot 2, rangy Cajun, with long auburn hair, and dangerous good looks.  Only 23 years old, but it had been a hard life, and one that had left him with a crippled sense of trust, a loner, he was not a team player, something that the X-Men were now trying to change.

 

 

Unlike most mutants, Gambit had three mutations. He was classed as Alpha, but Xavier was now beginning to believe that he might be an Omega mutant, one of only a handful in the world.  His first and most obvious mutation was his eyes, red on black, and light sensitive.  He had excellent night vision, but so far they had been unable to test his day vision or his ability to see color, usually he wore dark glasses to hide and protect them from the bright glare of the sun.

 

His second mutation was his ability to charm people into doing what he wanted, a gift that had blown up in his face, leaving him bleeding in the alleyways of New Orleans, his home town.  Now known to be empathic, he had been teamed with the resident feral Canadian in an attempt to help shield him. The Professor had been impressed with Gambit’s mental shields, because he had been unable to read the younger man.

 

His final mutation was the most devastating. He could charge an inanimate object with a biokinetic energy that, depending on the amount of power used, could bring a building down.  His favorite weapon of choice was a pack of charged playing cards.  Unlike some mutants, Gambit didn’t just rely on his powers. He was agile as a cat and a formidable fighter, using a Bo-staff to defend himself.

 

 

Logan fingered the gold card that Charles had given him, with firm instructions to get Gambit some things. The Professor knew that if the younger man was going to settle down they had to start his nesting instinct, make the mansion his home.

 

The five foot five, stockily built Canadian leaned against the side of the display window. The two men were as different as chalk and cheese, but Logan had recognized the Cajun as his Guide.  At the time he had not understood the term, or understood the need, just that the Cajun ex-Marauder, one of Dr. Essex’s men, was as important to him as breathing.

 

As an empath, Gambit needed to be able to lower his barriers, and in the past he had paid a price for the shielding he had needed. A price that Logan had seen in the scars, both physical and mental, that the younger man carried.

 

In return for Logan’s shielding, Gambit gave him peace of mind. He could control the feral side of his nature, so he saw it as a mutual need.  Also his need to protect and cherish Gambit was becoming stronger, and that was worrying him on his human side, where as the feral part of his nature embraced that possessive need.

 

The older man watched as his Guide looked through the window of the clothing shop and took a mental deep breath. He got the idea that a few flannel shirts and jeans were not going to be on the shopping list, the kid was already eyeing up the GQ clothes. This, he mused, from someone who’s prize possession was a full length black duster that had seen better days, and which he wore all the time. The kid almost needed surgery to remove it from him. 

 

Setting his shoulders Logan followed him in.

 

Half an hour later he was ready to shred someone with his claws, if that assistant had asked, nod nod, wink wink, one more time about what his significant other would like, he was going to claw the man into carrot sticks.  And of course the kid had played along, winding one arm round him, calling him ‘cher’ and plastering himself against him. 

 

With a huff Logan collected the parcels, and then trailed the Cajun to one of the other shops. Charles had insisted that the younger man get music and books, so that he could make the room his home.  He had understood and explained to Logan that as someone trained by the Thieves Guild, they could not force Gambit to stay, unless they kept him in an inhibitor collar.  Better that Gambit stay because he wanted to. 

 

Although too old for some of the classes, Xavier had still been confident that he could get the younger man to take some of them, and as all his X-Men taught some classes,  he was beginning to believe that Gambit might be suitable as a Student Councilor. He was young enough to connect with the students, and having lived on the street, he could understand them. Also the students were more likely to confide with him.  The Professor still had nightmares about the time that he had talked Logan into teaching Sex Education 101 when Jean had been away. 

 

He had penciled Gambit in. He just had to speak to him about it, but he didn’t want to spook him. So far the Cajun had not even given them his real name, using only his street name, but that would come with time.

 

Gritting his teeth, Logan followed the younger man into the music shop; the kid was flicking through the CD’s and came up holding the four that Charles had allowed him.  Logan tried not to cringe at the thought that, as his roommate, he was going to get to hear them up close and personal.

 

Finally, shopping done, he shepherded his charge back to the jeep, the kid talking a mile a minute in his mixture of English and Cajun French.

 

In the distance the Thieves Guild informer pulled out his cell phone.

 

0-0-0-

 

The music was pumping out full volume the fast jaunty accordion music that was pure Cajun, Logan pushed the door open to find his resident Cajun moving to the music and singing to his heart’s content.

 

He y yaie, chere jolie

Toi, catin, gardez done

Moi jsuis la dans les miseres

Joli je peux pas tavoir

Moi je peux plus dormir le soir

 

 

The song was Jolie Catin, even Logan recognized it as one of the Classic Cajun songs, and resigned himself to hearing more soon.

 

“Come on Gumbo, training time.”

 

With one last graceful twirl Gambit picked up his black duster, pulling it on, his hand automatically checking on the packs of cards. “Ready when you are Cher.”

 

 

Logan rolled his eyes, “You know kid, other people have Guides that are well-mannered, shy and retiring, and...”

 

“But y’ wanted Gambit.” He smiled knowing it was the truth.

 

The older man pulled the door open and jerked a thumb towards the corridor. Why did he get the feeling that this was someone’s idea of a cosmic joke.

 

0-0-0-0

 

The Danger Room (training facility)

 

Gambit landed from the drop kick and already had a fan of glowing cards in his hand; he launched them with great accuracy at the approaching paramilitaries, then dived out of the way of a burst of gunfire, and was back in the ruins again.

 

The deadly game of hide-and-seek continued, his progress being monitored from the control room.

 

Scott glanced across at Logan, “He’s good you know, really good.”

 

“The kid’s a natural, he’s got good speed and the agility of a cat,” Logan looked at Hank McCoy, “might want to check that when you do the DNA check on him, he’s got the scent of feral on him.”  When he saw Hank raise an eyebrow he just tapped his nose, “smelt it the first time I met him.”

 

Gambit came out of the flick flack exactly at the right moment, his feet thudding into the face of the nearest thug.  As he went down he avoided the swing of a baseball bat, hitting the floor. Gambit swung so he took the man down from a blow behind the leg, then an elbow to the throat left his attacker out cold.

 

Hearing the ‘snitk’ Scott looked across at Logan, the Canadian was watching the Cajun’s every move, but the slow flexing of the claws told their own story.  The Canadian was not happy; he would have preferred to have been down there protecting his Guide.  But this was Gambit’s assessment, not his.

 

“Don’t worry Logan, he passed about five minutes ago.”

 

“Then why?”

 

“To see what he’s capable of, you’re lucky to have him.”  Scott leaned forward, “deactivating the program Gambit,” he gave the warning and shut down, and the attackers disappeared, leaving only an empty room.

 

The Cajun was leaning on his Bo-staff; the workout had been a good one.

 

He fished out a cigarette and lit it with his finger, a trick he had been doing since he was ten, and inhaled the smoke, savoring it before letting it out in a plume.

 

Watching as Scott Summers and Logan approached him, his red on black eyes flashed as he saw older man reach out towards him.  He flicked the cigarette up and it exploded like a firecracker in front of Logan’s face, a warning not to attempt to touch him in front of the X-Men leader.

 

“Congratulations, you passed your evaluation.”  Scott made sure that Gambit could see that he was pleased.

The Professor had made some rather telling comments about the Cajun, the most important one being Gambit needed to be brought into the X-Men family.  Xavier was unable to breech the Cajun’s shields, to do so would be to mind rape the younger man, and that was never an option, but he’d gotten some ideas of his emotions.

 

“Gambit thought he had already passed de test?”

 

“If an X-Man is injured he has to have an evaluation before he can go active again.”  Scott saw the way that Logan’s eyes never left the Cajun.

 

“Logan, the Professor wants to see you.”

 

“Now you tell me, Cyke.”

 

“That’s what he said, once Gambit passed he wanted you in his office.”

 

Reluctantly Logan pulled himself away from his Guide; the possessive need to be with him was getting stronger.

 

Once he was sure that the Canadian was out of earshot even for him, Scott asked. “Are you all right Gambit?  If Logan’s hurt you, I need to know.”

 

“Gambit bien Cyke.”

 

“The names Scott,” Cyclops put in firmly. “Do we still call you Gambit?”  It was a gentle invite for the Cajun to give him his real name. For a moment Scott saw the look, the younger man was unsure, then he looked down and nodded

 his head.

 

“Gambit don’t have a name.”  He looked up. “Call mon, Gambit or Le Diablo Blanc.”  He trailed off.

 

“White Devil,” Scott translated. “Why?”

 

The reply made the X-Man leader start.  It was a laugh, bitter. “De Devil eyes, Cykes, no one wants de demon, unless dey want to spice up de bed or have something stolen.”  There was a bitter mocking to the Cajun’s voice, and for a split second, Scott saw hurt.

 

0-0-0-0

 

Logan understood what the Professor was telling him, he had already felt there was a problem with his bond to the younger man, but that didn’t mean that he liked the idea of Dr. Sandburg coming to help him.  He would have preferred for nature to take its course. Drag the Cajun somewhere quiet, away from all these people, and then bond, long and slow, with only the sky above their heads.  Somewhere the Wolverine could show Gambit the he could provide for him, protect him.  Winter was coming, and he had to make sure his Guide understood the even if food became short he could keep him fed. In return he would receive the commitment of the bond from the younger man.  But the Professor had ruled that out and informed him that unless the bond settled he would have to call Dr. Sandburg to Westchester.  So it was a thoughtful Wolverine that left the office.

 

Coming out of the study he saw his Guide speaking to a group of students, his eyes narrowed as one of the females put a hand on his Guide’s arm, leaning into him, rubbing her scent on him.  Wolverine strode forward, his face like thunder.

 

Gambit turned as he felt Logan approach, his spatial awareness alerting him.  With a soft promise of meeting later he took off down the corridor to draw the Canadian away from them.  Once clear of the other students he turned on Wolverine.

 

 “Look Homme, Gambit is bien dat y’ like bein wi’t him.  Mais de femmes want Gambit on his own.”

 

Wolverine growled at him.

 

“Back off!”  Gambit snarled back.

 

Wolverine had had enough of all this and tried to grab his wayward Guide.  But Gambit ducked back and threw a handful of low charged cards at their feet, forcing the feral X-Man back.

 

“Cool it Homme, Gambit be back soon.”

 

The Cajun pointedly turned on his heel and started back down the corridor.  He heard only the slightest noise and twisted round, but Wolverine took him down hard.  Gambit landed heavily on his back as he tried to push the older man off.

 

“Get off him!”  Bobby dropped his sandwich and hit Logan with a blast of ice that knocked the feral X-Man off Gambit as Warren caught the Cajun’s arm and pulled him back to his feet.

 

Wolverine lunged back, only to hit a wall of ice that sealed the corridor from floor to ceiling.  Roaring his anger his claws carved into the ice, but Bobby was maintaining the wall, there was no way they could let him get through to them.  Over his shoulder he snapped, “Warren, get him the hell out of here.”

 

“Wolverine.”  Gambit started forward, the link between them coming alive, the need to help his partner kicking in, but Warren would not let him do that. 

 

Angel grabbed a handful of the Cajun’s duster, an arm round his waist, and took off, his wings brushing the sides of the walls.

 

“We need to get you to the Professor.”  Warren was not sure what he had seen back there, but Gambit had been moving right towards the claws, as if drawn like metal filings to a magnet.

 

Wolverine cut through the last of the ice, by then Bobby was already making good his escape.  Wolverine paused and lifted his head. Catching his Guide’s scent he was off and running, the feral creature tracking its prey.

 

He paused outside of the door to the Professor’s study.

 

“Come in Logan,” the voice ran clear in his head.

 

The Professor was behind his desk; he looked calm and unruffled at the thought of facing down Wolverine.

 

Gambit stood to one side, Warren on the other; the Cajun was shuffling a pack of cards, they moved smoothly between his fingers. It gave the first clue to Wolverine of his guides emotional state, Gambit was ready to fight not flee.

 

Wolverine started forward as the spicy scent of his Guide called him. 

 

It was not the sharp command of the Professor that stopped him, he barely recognized the words, it was the scent of fear that flooded off his mate.  He had frightened his Guide.  Wolverine backed off and looked at Professor Xavier, suddenly it was as if a cooling breeze moved through his mind, calming him down, allowing Logan to come through.

 

Logan snarled, “Get out of my head Gumbo, now,” as he realized that Gambit was trying to influence him.

 

Charles Xavier put in, “let him help you Logan.”

 

But the Canadian slammed the mental door shut, forcing the Cajun out.

 

The breath caught in Charles’ throat, as he had to pull his barriers up high to shut out the searing sexual heat of the Cajun.

 

Warren found himself catching the Cajun and forcing him back against the wall as Gambit’s hand landed on his shoulder, the long slender fingers moving soothingly trying to defuse the situation.

 

Logan swore, “Charles, block Warren,” even as he did it, Logan moved to his Guide.  “It’s okay kid,” he reached a hand out and coaxed the Cajun to him, then pulling him close, opening his mind and allowing Gambit in, settling an arm round the taller man’s waist. 

 

The Cajun stank of pheromones, it was a clinging scent that swamped him, and he could even taste Gambit’s scent.  He had to concentrate just on his Guide.  In his mind he felt the other’s fear.

 

“What did I tell you kid,” he chided him gruffly as he raised a hand and lightly turned the Cajun’s face so that he was looking up into the red on black eyes.

 

“Y’ won’t hurt Gambit.”

 

“Right kid.”  Logan smelt the fear slowly begin to fade.

 

Charles could see that the problem had, for the moment, passed, the connection between the two men had activated again, but was still fledgling, it needed to be developed and then sealed. 

 

He was saw the look of horror on Warrens face that was quickly replaced by concern it pleased Charles that Warren’s main concern was that he hadn’t hurt the Cajun, when he had been under the influence of the Cajun’s empathy.  With his mentors help, he managed to raise his barriers higher. It was like taking a mental cold shower, his emotions were is own again.

 

“Warren, make sure that they get to their room, I have a phone call to make.”  He was going to have to see if Dr. Sandburg could come earlier than expected, the situation was starting to spiral out of control.

 

Talking softly to his Guide, Logan escorted him back to their rooms, he helped him off with his duster, then settled the younger man down in the overstuffed armchair, and made sure that he had given him his cards, 52 pieces of cardboard, but Gambit would cling to them like a life raft. 

 

Bending down in front of Gambit so that he could look up into his face, “Sorry I scared you kid, didn’t mean too.  If you want, I’ll get Cyke to move me.”

 

“No, Gambit okay with y’ bein here.  It’s just... don’t go grabbin’ at Gambit.”  He brushed his long hair back so that he could see Logan clearly.

 

The Canadian saw him flinch in the bright light, so he crossed over and picked the dark glasses off the bedside table, and placed them into his Guide’s hand.

 

“We good on this Gambit?”

 

“Gambit bien.”

 

As he walked out of the door, Logan could hear the shuffling of the cards, repeated again and again.

 

His mind made up, he decided to get some food; the kid was way too thin.

 

0-0-0-0

 

Blair Sandburg looked up from his laptop and across at his Sentinel, his relationship with Jim Ellison had been unique in more ways than one.

 

He could not help a smile touching his lips, the original odd couple, the free thinking hippy, and the straight-laced ex-military officer.  Both bonded together because of an accident at birth that made one a Sentinel and the other a Guide. 

 

Blair looked down at a neat pile of cards on the coffee table, each was thick, the printing discreet, and screamed expensive.  Across the center of each card,

 

Dr. Blair Sandburg, BA, MA, PhD.

Rainier University

 

 

The business cards were one of many presents that Jim and his family had given Blair on his graduation.  He still couldn’t believe that William Ellison would have bought him a new car.

 

It was unheard of for a Guide to own a vehicle; the insurance companies would never cover them. A Sentinel that wanted his Guide on his insurance faced crippling costs.  But not William Ellison, who owned his own insurance company, and made it plain that Guides were an untapped resource, and he had been proved right.  Since it became known that the Senior Guide Prime of Cascade and the Northern Territories had been accepted, the applications for coverage had started to come in from across the country, from Sentinels who finally, legally, were giving their Guides the independence they had shielded them from.

 

Jim Ellison and his family had given Blair his life back, and for that he was eternally grateful.  The GDP had undergone some radical changes in the last couple of years since he had started his PhD. 

 

Dr. Claydove, the Director, had begun to implement his changes, and the internal civil wars had been down and dirty, but the old guard had retired leaving the future a much brighter and less frightening place. And from September, Guides would legally be able to vote. 

 

It didn’t mean that it was a Utopian world. Just because discrimination was illegal didn’t mean that it didn’t happen every day in hundreds of small ways, but it was a start.

 

Now Blair was saddened to see that a new bigotry had taken shape in the GDP’s sister organization, the fledgling MDP, or Mutant Development Programme. 

 

The two organizations had grown apart, and it sometimes got nasty, especially where mutant empaths were concerned.  The GDP claimed them, as did the MDP. At least parents were now running to the GDP, knowing they would get protection for their offspring.  So maybe the GDP could finally live up to there name as a protector of Guides, developing them to the best of their abilities. 

 

Looking at the email that has arrived on his laptop, Blair was thoughtful; Dr. Charles Xavier had consulted with him and then sent an outline of what he believed was happening. This would be the first time that Blair had ever met a mutant empath, and mutant Sentinel.  It was going to be sooo interesting.

 

0-0-0-0

 

The Mansion was impressive, as was the security system, if Jim was anything to go by.  Sitting near him in the car Blair could feel the subtle change in his Sentinel, as the man moved into Blessed Protector mode.  Blair rested his hand against his arm, “easy big guy, we’re here to help, no need to go to war.”

 

“Mine.”

 

“Yours Sentinel.”  As he spoke Blair allowed his mind to caress against Jim’s, reassuring him on the most basic level that he was his Guide and only his.

 

By the time they had been shown into the office of Professor Charles Xavier Blair was bouncing, the vibes in the place were amazing.  He gave Jim a nudge when the older man seemed to slip deeper into the Blessed Protector persona.

 

The Professor turned out to be straightforward and welcoming.  Waving the newcomers to a seat he launched straight into the problem, showing none of the embarrassment that normally accompanied a ‘normals’ attempt to understand the bond.

 

“First let me thank you both for coming so quickly, the bonding problem has not resolved itself, and I believe it will need your expertise to help them.”

 

Thoughtfully Blair leaned forward, “bonding is always delicate, the connection between Guide and Sentinel is one of co-dependence, each giving something to the partnership, because that is what it is Professor, its taken nearly a quarter of a century, but the GDP has finally realized it.  The Guide has the ability to calm the Sentinel and keep him focused to prevent a zone out; he is in fact the safety net.  The Sentinel’s job is to protect his Guide, shield him from the emotions of the people around him, and in return he can use his senses without being crippled by outside forces.  But Sentinel and Guide have to trust and acknowledge each other, a forced bond is a disaster waiting to happen.”

 

“Yet yours was successful,” the Professor put in gently.

 

Jim started to his feet, a low growl rolling from his lips.

 

“Jim no,” Blair caught his wrist.  “It’s okay man, it’s okay.  I should have expected that Professor.  The truth of our bonding is that it started long before our official bonding, not unlike Logan and Gambit,” he tapped his forehead, “but then you already know that don’t you.”

 

“Not that way Doctor, I would never breech another’s mind, but the GDP is like a group of old women, they gossip, and you have featured high in their list of stories.”

 

“I was thrown into a room, and Jim was lost in the primal needs of a Sentinel to bond, he would have died without our connection, and we bonded,” Blair met the Professors eyes levelly, “and I have never regretted a single day since then.”  His voice and eyes shone with the pride that he felt in his bond to James Ellison.  “But I get a feeling that you brought it up for a reason.”

 

Charles nodded, “Gambit was in a situation where he was brought into connection with a mutant Sentinel, he’s more primal than your Detective Ellison, and a connection was made between them.  When the Sentinel found him at the Mansion, he had arrived on his own, purely by chance.  The Sentinel sought him out, they fought, and the two bonded.  But then problems seem to have developed.”

 

“You said a mutant Sentinel.”

 

“Logan isn’t a Sentinel in the truest sense of the word,” Charles smiled, “sorry no pun intended.  He is primal, his enhanced sense are more animalistic, his whole body language changes, in that persona he is extremely dangerous.  It was hoped that Gambit could calm and focus him.  As for zone outs, I do not believe that he suffers them in the conventional form.” 

 

“What kind of empath is Gambit?  Is he not strong enough to form the link?”

 

“Very strong, he has formidable telepathic barriers, and as yet I have been unable to get him to trust us enough to test him.  Gambit doesn’t trust easily.”

 

0-0-0-0

 

Jim was only listening with half an ear to the conversation as it became more technical, he could not shake off a feeling that something was coming.  It started as a shiver across his mind, like the rustle of leaves in the fall, but it was becoming stronger.  The thump, thump of a heart beat, then the scent, he seemed to lock in on it, it was spicy, musk.  Suddenly the Dark Sentinel pushed through, and Jim was on his feet, ignoring the Professor’s question.

 

Charles had been in the middle of talking to Blair Sandburg when he noticed the younger man was drifting, his responses becoming more automatic.  Then he felt the change click into place, as in Blair’s mind another overlaid him, the two personas coming together as one. He stood, moving closer to his Sentinel, his eyes fixed on the door.

 

The door opened and Gambit walked in. 

 

Dark Guide and Dark Sentinel started at him, as they acknowledged another of their kind, only the second Dark Guide ever found, young, strong, and not fully bonded as of yet, but a Dark Guide all the same.

 

Charles felt two words projected by both the visitors.  “What is a Dark Guide gentlemen, and how does that concern Gambit?”

 

Jim answered, “He is a Dark Guide, and they are the most powerful of their kind.”

 

The Dark Sentinel was looking at him in wonder, he had never met a second Dark Guide in his lifetime, but his memories from the dreams of the ancients, if they had taught him anything, was that one Dark Guide was trouble, but two was like pulling a tiger by the tail, dangerous as it comes, and this one looked headstrong, and all piss and vinegar.

 

Charles took over, “Gambit this is Jim and Blair, they’re going to try and help you with your bonding.”

 

With a look of total distain, Gambit sank into one of the chairs, facing the door and keeping Jim and Blair in plain sight.  With a sigh Charles realized that Gambit was keeping his escape routes open.

 

Jim studied the new Dark Guide, he felt the protective surge that all Sentinels felt in the presence of a Guide, the same feeling that was magnified a 100 times for their own Guide.  He would be careful not to frighten Gambit, who looked even younger than his own Guide.

 

The young Dark Guide was dressed in skin-tight jeans, ratty sneakers, the sides of which were slit, and a red silk shirt that hung outside of his jeans and came down to his thighs, the sleeves un-buttoned and folded back from his wrists, his eyes were hidden by dark glasses.

 

Blair lowered his barriers trying to get a reading on the newcomer, only to have his emotions turned back on him.  In reflex Blair threw up his own barriers to protect himself, and it was his dark persona that threw the emotions back at the newcomer, emotions sharp as barbs.

 

Charles felt the battle increasing and put a damper field round both men.  “This stops now gentlemen,” there was a snap to his voice that made them both stop, but it didn’t stop them glaring at him.

 

Jim moved behind his Guide, dropping a hand onto his shoulder. He felt the jolt as if he was mainlining electric, as his mind tapped into Blair, “Easy Chief.”  He glared at the newcomer, Gambit, knowing that he had something to do with this. 

 

Before Charles could tell him the door to the study open as Logan burst in, the Wolverine in control, his eyes feral yellow, flashing round the room, his lips pulled back in a snarl, his shoulders dropped forward, hands held ready to attack, the claws extended.

 

When he moved, it was fast, getting between Gambit and the others, his eyes fixed on Jim, seeing him as a threat.  His head tilted and he openly scented, when he spoke it was a deep throated growl, as the man started to take control again.

 

“Hello Ranger.”

 

“Weapon X.”  Jim said the name, but even as it was uttered he pulled Blair behind him and fisted his gun. He had seen what Weapon X could do, and the carnage it left in its wake.  He also knew that he didn’t have a chance in hell of stopping it if it attacked. He had seen someone empty a full clip into Weapon X and it hadn’t even slowed him down. The shooter had been ripped apart by those claws.

 

Blair’s eyes went wide; the emotions coming off the smaller man were raw and feral to an extent that even surpassed Jim when he went primal.  He found it hard to pin all the emotions down, but one that came blazing through was protect and cherish the Guide.

 

Charles had been shocked that Ellison had recognized Logan.  Few of the  people that met Weapon X lived to speak about their encounter, as Logan was one of the most dangerous killers in the world.

 

Before anything could happen Gambit was on his feet, resting a hand on a broad shoulder, “It’s ok-ay Mon Amie, Gambit is bien, he can handle dem.” 

 

He looked at the gun, and stance, “Y’ a cop?”

 

“Cascade PD, Detective Ellison.”  Jim grated out.

 

Logan growled louder, no cop was going to take his Guide; he would gut the man first.

 

Blair stepped round his Sentinel, not an easy task, forcing the gun down.  “Look man we got off to a bad start, an empathic pissing contest.  You stand yours down and I’ll stand mine down, and we can talk Guide to Guide.”

 

Gambit nodded and moved with an almost sensual grace round Logan, keeping in contact all the time, until he faced him.  Looking down into the feral man’s face he brought a hand up and lightly stroked the contours of the strong features.  “Put de hardware away Cher,” he ran his hand down the older man’s arm now, his fingers ghosting over the dangerous claws.   His voice took on that warm smoky tone that Logan had to listen to. “Come on Cher, no threat, nothing we can’t handle.”

 

Logan retracted the claws, tilting his head slightly, and removed Gambit’s dark glasses so that he could look into the red on black eyes of his Guide, he could drown himself in them.  Gradually his yellow eyes turned back to hazel with old gold flecks in them.  Only then did he rest his arm round Gambit’s waist, waiting a heartbeat before lightly pulling him close, giving his young Guide a chance to pull away, Gambit usually rejected his touch in front of others, but his time he didn’t, he allowed Logan to pull him near. 

 

The empath leaned forward as he lowered his barriers, caressing Logan’s mind, but he felt fear that he would be thrown out of Logan’s mind, a soft sigh escaped Gambit’s lips as he felt Logan’s mind open and accept him.  Allowing him through all the formidable Weapon X shielding. 

 

Held tethered by an arm round his waist, Gambit felt Logan rub his back and shoulder, all the time talking low, reassuring him.

 

Time seemed to stand still for them, finally Gambit straightened up and moved to flank his Sentinel.

 

All the time Logan had been comforting his Guide he had kept the Ranger and his Guide under surveillance, any move towards Gambit would have resulted in their deaths.

 

“Chuck, you want to tell me what’s going on?”

 

Charles ignored the Chuck, he knew what it meant, that Logan was pissed off because he had allowed Gambit into a situation where he had been threatened, and the kid had not known he was going to face another strong empath.

 

“Logan, your bond has not strengthened, you need help,” he held up a hand to stop him before he could cut in.  “Blair Sandburg and Jim Ellison are here to help you. For both of your sakes you have to let them help.”

 

“We are here as Sentinel and Guide, we know what you have gone through.” Jim put in.

 

Blair, with a small nod to his Sentinel, took over.  “No Sentinel and Guide like to talk about what goes on in the bond with an outsider, its private.  But we can help you, I promise.”  He looked toward the Professor, “If you could leave us now.”

 

A smile touched Jim’s lips, // His Guide, the Dark Guide has dismissed Professor Charles Xavier. It was a command not a request, perhaps realizing that it would be a lot easier without a none bond in the room, and the fact he was a telepath would have gotten in the way, no one wanted their mind read in the bond. It was way too intimate//.

 

Once the Professor had gone, Blair coaxed them into chairs, but noticed the way that Logan moved his so that he was between them and his Guide.

 

“How often have you bonded?”  Blair asked the question straightforward, no good beating round the bushes.

 

Gambit shifted in his chair, “Once.”

 

Blair shook his head, “the need to bond is paramount to a Sentinel and Guide.”

 

“I am not a Sentinel,” Logan almost spat the words.

 

Blair didn’t bat an eye, “you’re near enough to one for it not to matter.”  His voice lifted slightly. “If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it’s a duck, live with it Logan.”

 

Jim had to suppress a grin at Blair, standing up to Weapon X, but then the kid had never seen what the guy could do in a berserker rage.  He felt a new respect for Gambit; if this kid shared a bonding bed with Weapon X he was made of the same tempered steel as his own Guide, a true Dark Guide.

 

“Do you sleep together?”

 

Gambit was on his feet, a card glowing in his hand.  “What y’ say about Gambit and Logan.  Come on cher, out of here.”

 

“Take the charge back kid, he didn’t mean it like that, did you bud?”  Logan’s voice had an edge to it.

 

“No, we have suffered from the same misunderstanding.  Half the PD, hell half the city, thinks that I am either on all fours or on my back serving my Sentinel.” 

 

There was a sadness Logan heard in Blair’s voice that hadn’t been there before. “But while the bond is being established you need to be really close to each other, and sleeping together helps.  The Sentinel will search for his Guide in his sleep, which can lead to problems with zone out, and will sleep better if he is close by.  For the Guide, it lets them lower all barriers and just bask in the protective shielding of the Sentinel.  It’s what we do.  Now what we have to do is make sure Logan that you have imprinted Gambit fully, and Gambit you need to learn to control what you’re projecting, Could you lower your barriers just for a moment.” 

 

Blair flushed bright red, and moved uncomfortably in his seat, as he breathed, “Different.”

 

But Logan was already taking control, he caught Gambit and pulled him close into his lap, talking softly and calming him down.  It was a good sign that Logan was tuned in to his Guide’s feeling. 

 

Blair had never felt an empath that projected such a sexual pull; that was not natural.  Gambit had been trained, and he hated to think what kind of training that had been like to get it that strong.  Gambit needed help. On the plus side Logan seemed to have been unaffected, had blocked it with his shield and was now reassuring  the young Dark Guide.

 

Pulling the Cajun close Logan let him into his mind and closed the formidable Weapon X barriers round him, but instead of suffocating Gambit, they had given the younger man strength and security.

 

Jim had felt Gambit through Blair and was puzzled. “Blair, your empathy is not like that.”

 

“Empathy is emotions, sex or sensuality is an emotion.”  The Sentinel understood, he had seen Blair in the Dark Guide persona and he had radiated the same sensuality, but Blair had control, Gambit didn’t, or rather had been trained to project that emotion.

 

“Who trained you?”  Blair put in bluntly, better to ask than to dance round the question.  Blair felt the fear coming off the younger Dark Guide, and Logan reacted, tucking his Guide’s head under his chin, anchoring the tall mutant to him.

 

Gambit buried his face against Logan’s neck, his long slender fingers gripping Logan’s flannel shirt.   “De Antiquarian, my master.”  The words were that quiet that Blair barely heard them, but he could feel the fear behind the words, a world of hurt. 

 

“Where was this?”

 

“Naw’lins.”

 

“Where?”  Blair glanced at Jim and Logan.  It was the Canadian that answered, “New Orleans, he’s from the French Quarter.”

 

He felt the nod against his chest.   

 

Jim would follow up the lead.

 

“Okay Gambit, I need you to project to me, fix on my emotions.”

 

“Non!”

 

Logan dropped his voice so that only Gambit could hear him, “It’s all right, I am here kiddo, won’t let them hurt you.”

 

“Promise.”

 

“Yeah, promise.”

 

Blair reached and claimed Jim’s hand and placed it on his shoulder, then opened his mind.  Gambit was very powerful, but unfocused. 

 

Someone had done that to him, forced a limit on what he could do, Gambit was a crippled Dark Guide and he was going to free him. 

 

Whatever was happening between the Guides, neither Sentinel was privy to the empathic exchange, but Jim pulled Blair back when he felt Blair leaning into him.  A look at Logan showed he had his own hands full with Gambit. Dark Guides had a passionate, sensual nature, which when bonded focused completely on their sentinel, which made them hard to deal with, if they became  lost  in their emotions.

 

Professor Xavier waited patiently for the men to come out of his study.

When they did emerge Jim Ellison had an arm round Blair Sandburg, and the smaller man was being held close, almost plastering himself to his sentinel, one arm under Jim’s jacket wrapped round his sentinel’s chest, as if frightened that someone would try to part them. 

Logan came out with Gambit held close, his whole attention focused on the young Cajun.

 

Charles cursed a society that branded as wrong any intimate touch between people of the same sex, as he noticed the look his students gave the four men.  This was not sex this was a much older need between sentinel and guide.  And in the case of the young Cajun, Gambit needed the physical contact, in fact he craved it, but at the same time was scared of it.  Charles mused they had a long way to go with him. Gambit was a psychological minefield at the moment, and with his volatile nature, made him very dangerous. But he would not lose this young man on his watch.

 

Seeing Bobby, Charles asked him to escort their guests to the room one floor above Logan and Gambit’s in the guest wing. Better not to put two territorial males on the same landing.

 

 

0-0-0-0

 

As they when to their room, Jim’s mind went over what he had heard about Gambit, they had a couple of starting points, New Orleans and the Antiquarian, but first he had to cool off a Dark Guide, like this Blair needed to bond, and could be aggressive at it.

 

At the door to the room, the Sentinel halted, his senses ranging out, checking for any threat on the other side of the door, only then did he open it, though blocking his Guide’s entrance until he had scanned the inside of the room.  Now Guide safe, he allowed Blair to enter.

 

Jim crossed to the bed, frowned, turned, and nearly lost his balance because Blair was that close to him. Blair pushed him and he fell backwards.  Even as his body bounced on the bed his Guide was on top of him, looming over him as he pinned him to the bed, the smile on his face pure Dark Guide, leaning in so that he was nose to nose with him, “Sentinel, claim your Guide.”

 

The blue in Jim’s eyes shifted slightly, deepening as the Dark Sentinel responded to the challenge of his Guide.  Moving quickly he gripped his Guide and flipped him over so the smaller man was under him, using his bigger size and body weight to keep the struggling Guide in place, then with a growl he bit down on his throat, marking his Guide. 

 

The bite went straight to the heart of the Dark Guide; so primal it ignited in him the heat of the ancient bond.  His hands tore at his Sentinel’s clothing, only needing one thing, skin to skin bonding.  The clothing was like cord against his skin, as he linked into this Sentinel’s gifts, feeling what he was feeling, the rough clothing, smelling his own scent, thick, heavy and clinging, then he began to lose himself and he felt himself spiraling down, until a hard bit to his throat brought him back.  Blurred eyes focused slowly onto Jim’s face.

 

“Greedy little one, a little at a time.” The voice roughed by need chilled him.  Jim started to pull back only to have a leg hook round his and pull him down, the need in Blair’s face that of the Dark Guide still.

 

“Too heavy.”

 

“Need to feel you, all of you,” the Dark Guide’s teeth cut into his neck.

 

0-0-0-0-0

 

Charles pulled back from his scan of the Mansion.  He had long established a psi link with all his students, a small surface link that meant he could check up on them.  All had been as it should be, when he had touched the minds of his guests the raw power generated between them both was searing, he had pulled back quickly to avoid intruding on the bond.  If that were the full bond, then he would have to train Logan and Gambit to shield them from the rest of the Mansion’ s telepaths, some were too young to be subjected to those mental images.  Carefully he built his own walls round the two men, cutting their emotions from the rest of the residence.

 

0-0-0-0

 

As much as  Logan craved the bond, he had decided that Gambit was not in any condition to bond, what he needed was to be safe, and the meeting with Blair had shaken him badly.  So, after making sure that his young Guide was comfortable, he left him to get some food. Jean had been cooking, so it should mean that they were in for a good meal.  His guide was too thin and needed fattening up, he was only 175 soaking wet, to Logan food meant comfort and getting his guide to eat was paramount on his list of thing to do.

 

When he got back with the tray he found Gambit curled in the armchair in the Canadian’s room, showing a need to be close, a battered paperback book in his hand.  He was not surprised to see that he had donned the black duster, and had it pulled round him. The Cajuns version of a security blanket.

 

While setting out the meal Logan noticed that Gambit had spent about ten minutes on just a couple of the pages, his lips moving as he read, each page was turned with great reverence.

 

It was the first time Logan, had seen his guide with any type of book, but instinct told him that the book was treasured, and when he moved closer, Gambit clutched the book to him as if frightened that it would be taken away from him

 

“Can I see it?  I won’t’ damage it.”  Logan crouched down so that he was looking up into the Cajun’s face.

 

For a moment Gambit never moved, and then slowly he put it into Logan’s hands, his slender fingers easing back, almost caressing the pages.

 

With a great show of taking care, Logan turned it over and read the title, not allowing any adverse emotion to show in his face.

 

“Good book.”  He smiled as he handed it back, the Cajun was treating it as if it was the Holy Grail.

 

“Lunch, hope you’re hungry, Jean cooked it.”

 

Logan watched him nod and then put the book back into one of the inner pockets of his duster, giving it a gentle pat to make sure that it was still there.

 

It was then Logan remembered the shopping trip from hell.  The younger man had not looked at any books.  CD’s sure, but not books.

 

The kid was smart, give him a security system and he would get past it, but for all that Logan was beginning to think that the kid was barely literate, and with that knowledge another piece of the puzzle that was Gambit slotted into place. 

 

The Thieves Guild had a good educational framework, and it was known that most of the children passed through it, so how did Gambit miss that?

 

Logan was lost in thought when he realized that Gambit had moved over to the table and was looking at a copy of the Sentinel report, with one finger he flicked the cover open and was peering down at the words frowning.  “Blair wrote dis?”

 

“The kid’s a PhD, hard to imagine, don’t look like he should be out of his freshman year, but yeah kid, he wrote it.”  He paused. “What do you think of them?”

 

“Blair he’s ok-ay.  Mais Jim, he’s a cop, Gambit don’t like cops.”

 

Logan could feel the need to bond riding him like an addiction, but to force the bond would feel like rape, Gambit had to come to him willingly, but the frustration was building in him.  Instead he turned back to the meal on the table, “eat it before it’s cold.”  For a second his eyes burned bright yellow, but he clamped back on the Wolverine, eat first, then bond.

 

0-0-0-0-0

 

Blair rolled off the bed, avoiding the hand that tried to grab and pull him back; he pushed his hair back from his face.  “Wow, man, that was...” he trailed off.

 

“Wow!”  Jim said, a smug smile on his lips, it was not often Blair was lost for words, but this was one of those times.  The bonding had been intense, sweeping them both away with the emotions.

 

“Must be Logan and Gambit, having another dark pair is fueling the bonding.”

 

Jim rolled onto his back, his fingertips stroking across Blair’s thigh, still needing contact with his Guide, unwilling to give that up yet, the connection between them humming.

 

“We have to check up on them, make sure they’re okay.”

 

“Chief, interrupting a bonding is a sure way to get gutted.  Believe me, Logan is going to be royally pissed if we stop him in the middle of his bond.”

 

“And if they have been unable to connect again.”

 

“Okay, okay,” Jim swung his legs off the bed and began to pull on his shoes.  “But you keep behind me, and only go in when I tell you too.”  When he didn’t get a reply he snapped, “Guide, you hear me?”

 

Blair rolled his eyes to the heaven, “sure Jim, I heard you.”

 

0-0-0-0

 

The door to Logan’s room was yanked opened before Jim’s hand could hit the wood, and Blair had to hide a smile at the look on his Sentinel’s face, he had not appreciated it.  One thing was sure, and he was no expert, but he would bet his years salary that no bonding had taken place.

 

“Blair,” his Guide had slipped past and was in the room, and was ignoring him, but Jim was keeping a close eye on Logan, as he saw the tips of the claws sliding in and out through the flesh of his hands.  As the skin was not getting a chance to heal, blood was dripping onto the floor.

 

Blair looked from Sentinel to Guide; they were going to need practical help.

 

“Jim I need you to help me show them how to bond,” he added, “please,” on a breath that only his Sentinel would hear. 

 

The bond was the most private and sacred ritual between Sentinel and Guide, and to even start to bond in front of another went against everything that Jim Ellison believed in.  But he could see that Blair wanted this.

 

He closed the distance to Blair, and then reaching out collected his Guide’s hands, brought them to his face and scented his palms, inhaling the scent deeply, then touched them to his heart, before placing them at his waist. 

 

Jim felt self-conscious as he then leaned in and scented his Guide’s throat, but deep down he knew this was the only way for Logan and Gambit to see there was nothing wrong with intimate touching between Sentinel and Guide.

 

Slowly and reluctantly Jim pulled back, he could feel Blair’s mind caressing his, and it took all of his will power not to throw his Guide down and complete the bond.

 

Blair took a deep breath, and then looked at the other pairing.  Logan looked embarrassed, the Cajun’s expression was hard to read, the cards that somehow had appeared in his hands were moving back and forward faster then Blair could  follow..

 

“Okay, first put those down.”  Blair paused, “Gambit you don’t need them, and no one is going to hurt you.”

 

The young man came to his feet with the smooth agility of a cat Jim noted, then mentally added ‘and the sensual grace of a Dark Guide’, there was no mistaking it.

 

Gambit’s eyes never left Logan face as taking a steadying breath, he stepped into the Canadians  personal space.  Looking down at the smaller feral man, his hands were trembling slightly as he offered them to his Sentinel.

 

Logan took them with great care, and then, his eyes never leaving his Guide, scented his hands, his eyes becoming the color of old gold as the Wolverine came forward.  But instead of aggression the Wolverine was purring as he basked in the scent of his Guide.  He turned Gambit’s hands in his, reveling in the spicy scent of the younger man.  Tracing the long slender fingers he frowned, not liking their coldness.  Finally he moved them to his heart, then down, before reaching, one hand sliding round the back of Gambit’s neck as he guided the Guide’s head down to rest on his shoulder as he scented, his other arm going round Gambit’s waist.

 

Gambit suddenly twisted away, moving clear of the Canadian, dropping into a defensive position, ready to fight or flee.  Logan moved to block the window, cutting off that avenue of escape, his lips pulling back to show the elongated canine teeth of the Wolverine.

 

Blair dived in between them, “Chill out, this is not going to happen. Logan, Gambit, quit it!”  It was snapped with the roar of a Dark Guide.

 

Gambit snarled back, in Cajun French, the Dark Guide in him resenting the other’s interference.

 

Blair allowed the smile to remain hidden, // that’s my boy, showing your true colors, you don’t like anyone interfering with your Sentinel//.

 

“We will work this out, and you will bond,” Blair turned his back on Logan, a very dangerous practice when the Wolverine was out of it’s cage, but he knew that Jim was watching his back, “Gambit, you’re with me.”  He took the other Guide through to the Cajun’s bedroom and closed the door.

 

Jim only just managed to block Logan, “Back off them Logan, you can’t force a Dark Guide, you can only coax them.  Once bonded you’ll be okay, believe me.”

 

Logan tapped his own neck, and a smug smile touched his lips as Jim Ellison colored, “Little love bite?”

 

“Primal bonding Logan, you’re going to love it, but it’s hard on the body, and believe me a Dark Guide takes a lot of handling.  Do yourself a favor and cut the love bite cracks,” Jim’s voice had taken a harder tone. “Blair’s been through too much for me to find it funny.”

 

“So what do we do?”  Logan suddenly swore and jumped forward towards the door, only to be pulled back. 

 

Jim froze as the claws framed his face.

 

“It’s a white note generator, Blair’s using it so that he can have a heart to heart with Gambit on his own, and knows that we can’t help but listen in on their conversation. This is for Guides only, so lose the claws.”  All the time Jim’s eyes hadn’t left Logan’s.  With a soft snitk the claws retracted.

 

“He’s got a hour and in the mean time tell me about this Dark Guide business.”

 

Logan walked over to the wardrobe; inside was a small refrigerator and he threw a beer to Ellison.

 

Jim took a seat and stretched out his long legs.  “Okay, here is the deal. Blair is what is known as a Dark Guide, they are the most powerful empaths around, a real throwback to a time when Dark Guides were assassins, they bonded only to Dark Sentinels or gifted sentinels.”

 

“You’re a Dark Sentinel, so what’s the difference?”

 

“I kinda go primal, a while back someone tried to break our bond, and I killed them, the body count got high, but I couldn’t stop, they had to pay for hurting him. It’s hard to control, there are no longer any gray area’s, only black and white, them and us.”  He paused, “you understand.”

 

Logan only nodded, and took a deep pull on his beer.

 

“When Blair goes back to the Dark Guide persona that is the person he becomes, his body language changes, his very being changes, he has skills that he never had before.  I’ve seen him throw a knife 15 yards and take his target right through the heart, killed him without batting an eyelid.  And believe me that isn’t my Blair.”

 

“Split personality?”

 

“Not really, hell, I don’t know, it’s beyond me, but all I know is that he’s linked, we’re both linked to our previous lives that tightly that it’s a destiny we can’t avoid.”

 

“And Gambit is a Dark Guide.”

 

“Yeah, only the second I have ever seen, and the moment he came in I could feel it.  Believe me Logan, you’re going to have your hands full, and the bond...” he allowed a smile, “it’s going to blow your mind.”  He knocked his beer can to Logan’s then settled down to wait, leaving a very thoughtful Canadian.

 

0-0-0-0-0

 

The hands on the clock seemed to take an age to turn through the hour.  Jim knocked lightly on the door, opened it, and stopped dead in his tracks.  The two Dark Guides were curled up like puppies on the bed, their bodies intertwined, and the whole room seemed to be vibrating with the empathic connection.  Jim closed the door and left them, and was surprised when he didn’t get an argument from Logan.

 

Blair cracked and eye open as the door closed, then hugged Gambit closer and turned back to the emotions that were flowing between them. 

 

This was just the start, he was determined that when he left to return to Cascade he would leave behind him a fully functioning Dark Guide.

 

0-0-0-0-0

 

Jubilee was excited; she had spent the vacation at the home of one of her friends.  Charlotte Green’s powers were more along the lines of being able to merge with any computer system constructed.  She did not have to hack in the conventional way, all she needed was a way in and she could become one with the system.  Her parents had accepted her mutation and were loving and supportive, and so had readily opened their home to her friend Jubilation Lee.  Now all Jubilee wanted to do was get home to the Mansion and to see how Logan was. 

 

The other girls tended to tease her about Logan, but he was like an older brother, uncle, and platoon of angry pit bulls with attitude, mixed up in one bundle of five foot five adamantium fury.  And she loved him dearly.

 

It was late when she got in, and as always her excitement brought on bad nightmares of seeing her family killed in front of her, and there was only one way of putting the memories behind her. 

 

Jubilee ran a hand through her hair and yawned, eyes heavy with sleep.  One hand clutching her pillow, the other holding her flannel-dressing gown round her, she padded towards Wolverine’s room.  It was a habit that she had been unable to break; something about Logan made the nightmares go away, it was like having a five foot five, adamantium security blanket.

 

The light was off in the room, but she could see the lump in the bed and slide in next to Wolverine, cuddled up, and went to sleep.

 

0-0-0

 

Jubilee awoke and stretched.  Puzzled, she looked round her and realized she must have sleep walked to Logan.

 

It was then a couple of things began to register, for example, her hand was resting on Logan’s hip, and the skin was smooth, and, her brain back-tracked on that last bit, his skin was smooth?  Why was she feeling skin?  Her hand should have touched his sweat pants.  She moved her hand up and touched his flank, and then across his chest, there was none of that weird thick hair, and since when was Logan... ?

 

“Oh shit,” the two words came out with a gasp, she was in bed with a naked man, and it wasn’t Logan.  With a yelp that turned into a scream that would have done a steamboat whistle proud, she sat bolt upright and hit the light.  Her bedfellow swore, and the light exploded as he touched it.

 

Tumbling out of the bed she grabbed for the bedclothes to cover her, just as Logan came through the door, in time to see Gambit grab the pillow to cover himself.

 

Jubilee was pointing at the Cajun, “Logan he, your room, I...” she didn’t seem able to make a coherent sentence.

 

Seeing the two very confused young people Logan reached across and tossed Gambit his duster, “Close your eyes darling,” then with an amused growl added, “not you Cajun.”  As he warned Jubilee the Cajun released the pillow and pulled the duster on, muttering something under his breath about feeling like a flasher in a porno movie theatre.

 

“Okay you can open them,” Logan could not stop the amusement showing as he heard the pounding of feet as the other members of the teaching facility showed up. 

 

“Jubilee, this is Gambit. Gambit, Jubilation Lee.”

 

“Nothing happened,” Gambit put in quickly, knowing what he had heard about Logan’s protective instincts about his girls; the two that he had befriended and were like family to him.

 

“I know it didn’t kid,” he tapped his nose.  “Now I don’t know about you, but Jubilee, you have something that belongs to me.”  Reaching down he caught Gambit’s wrist and pulled him to his feet, and propelled him through the inner door, closing it behind him as he turned to face the other teachers.  With a mental sigh he knew he was in for a long morning.

 

0-0-0-0

 

It was later that morning that Jubilee was coming out of her second lesson of the day, her habitual yellow jacket marking her as a beacon.

 

“Oh, you’re back,” Jubilee turned to see Sophie Jenkins stood in the doorway. Sophie had made it plain from the start that the Professor should have standards, and those certainly didn’t include barely human Canadians, and, unknown to her in her absence, Sophie had added a new type to the list, barely literate Cajuns. 

 

Although she would not mind the barely part of the thought, all sex foot two of him, but the Cajun had been standoffish with her, polite but cold, and that hurt.  Everyone knew that the Cajun put out to anything on two legs, yet he refused her.  She was pretty, and had money; she was not use to people turning her down, especially not some bog hopping swamp rat.  This she was going to enjoy.

 

“Heard you met Gambit this morning.  I don’t know what Gambit does, but you can hear them at it all night.”

 

“Gambit.”  Jubilee said the name as if he was a foul taste in her mouth, that was all she had heard all day, Gambit this Gambit that.

 

“Gambit has been putting it around the Mansion from the moment he walked through the door,” she leaned in close and whispered into Jubilee’s ear, pleased to see the shocked reaction, as she used every crudity she knew to describe just what she thought the Cajun was doing with the Canadian, then, pulling back, said out loud, “poor little Jubilee,” her tone mocking.  “How can you compete with him?”

 

Jubilee pushed past the tears beginning to well up in her eyes, being replaced with anger.  How dare he besmirch her Wolvie’s reputation? He would have to go, and quickly.

 

0-0-0

 

Her anger simmered as the day continued.  Her Wolvie was always with Gambit, at dinner he was fussing over the younger man, piling food on his plate and escorting him to the teacher’s table.  She even ignored the speculation on the two newcomers, and Kitty Pryde’s comment about the two new hotties had fallen on deaf ears. She had to get rid of Gambit.

 

It was much later that she entered one of the activity rooms, Gambit had the curtains pulled and was watching the television. 

 

Ignoring him she went across and yanked the curtains open, flooding the room with sunlight.  The Cajun threw a hand up to block the light as his hands tried to dig his glasses out of his pocket, only his unique spatial awareness saved him as he sensed the surge of power thrown in his direction.

 

He threw himself away from the chair even as the colorful power surge hit it, knocking it over, forward rolling, eyes still closed, he sent a charged card straight at the source.  The two charges hit and the explosion knocked them both across the room. 

 

Face in the carpet, Gambit shook his head slowly to clear the ringing, pulling his dark glasses on he looked across at his attacker.

 

Jubilee was getting to her feet, swaying, her facing showing shock, she had not expected him to react like that, and adults didn’t fight students.  Okay, Wolvie took her through training programs, but she had never fought him.  Gambit had attacked, and she realized that if he hadn’t powered down his card, ye gods, he had thrown a charged playing card at her, he could have blown her through the wall.

 

“Y’ ok-ay petite.”  Gambit got up and crossed over to her, his hand on her arm steadied her, she wanted to toss it off her, but at the same time she knew she might fall over, her head was still ringing.

 

“What the hell?”  Scott was the first to arrive, his eyes took in the scene, the armchair with the burns to it, and he recognized the power signature as Jubilee.

 

“Jubilee, my office, now.” 

 

“It wasn’t the petites fault.”

 

“Can it Gambit, I know what I am looking at. Go find Logan before he comes storming in here, last thing I need now is a berserker.  Move it mister.”

 

0-0-0-0

 

Scott sat the wayward teenager down, and then perched on the side of the desk, this was going to start informal.  “Mind telling me why you tried to fry Gambit?”

 

“Didn’t, it was just a joke.”

 

“We don’t use our powers for jokes, you know better than that, so what aren’t you telling me?”

 

“Gambit,” she spat the words, “that...” she trailed off.

 

“What’s wrong with Gambit?”

 

“He,” she broke off, then her anger exploded, she was not called the firecracker for nothing.  “He’s all over Wolverine. Have you heard what they’re saying,” the tears started to mist her eyes, “they say the he’s in bed with Wolvie, that he puts out, and,” she stopped.

 

Scott shook his head, “Jubilee, Logan is what they call a Sentinel, it’s a Neanderthal throwback,” his tone went soft, “why aren’t I surprised, that explains his berserker rages.  He needs an empath to help him control them and Gambit is an empath.  The two of them have to be together once they have connected, and then Logan will be better off.  Might actually improve his moods.  So you see he needs Gambit.  The Cajun isn’t doing anything bad believe me, to help Logan you have to allow Gambit to do his job.”

 

“But...”

 

Scott leaned forward, “Jubilee, you don’t want to hurt Wolverine do you?”

 

“No, of course not!”

 

“Then leave Gambit alone, you were very luck today not to get blown to kingdom come, he doesn’t always react with such restraint.”

 

“He couldn’t...”

 

“He could have.  You haven’t seen him in the Danger Room, now take this as a warning, with your powers come responsibilities, live up to them.”

 

0-0-0-0

 

Jubilee came out of the office; the anger was now on a low simmer.  Mr. Summers had put her on the carpet, trying to justify that Cajun lowlife.  She went into the cafeteria and collected a hot chocolate, her primary comfort food.

 

Looking up she saw Logan. He scanned the room and then came over. Jubilee had gotten good at reading Logan, and she could see he was not happy.

 

The feral Canadian slide into a seat across from her, and he was annoyed as hell at her, he expected more from his cub than this.  He expected his cubs to accept Gambit, and make him part of his pack, this was not good enough.

 

Gambit paused in the doorway; he had seen Logan go in, the smaller man was now seated next to the girl that had attacked him, the tears rolling down her face.  Logan’s face was like granite, but he could feel the sadness the tears were causing his Sentinel.  For his entire grim exterior, Logan had feelings buried deep, he didn’t show them on his sleeve, but it didn’t mean that he didn’t have them.

 

“Gambit.” 

 

The Cajun turned at his name; Blair and Jim were stood behind him.

 

“I heard what happened.”  It was Jim that broke the silence, “you okay?”  It was the instinctive nature of the Sentinel to look after a Guide.

 

“Gambit okay.”

 

Blair laid a hand on his arm, “Come on, time we started working on that bonding.”  He coaxed the younger man to go with them.

 

Jim was not happy as he viewed the bonding platform that Blair had made.  “Are you sure about this, because believe me, all you’re going to do is piss off Logan.”

 

“It’s to help him.”  Blair put in, not bothering to look over his shoulder.

 

“Chief, if another Sentinel and Guide tried to put you on to the bonding platform, I sure as hell would have gone ballistic.  Blair.”  His voice got harder, “Sandburg, face me now.”

 

Blair turned, “Yes.”  His tone showed his boredom, he had already won this argument and wasn’t going through it again.

 

He gave a gasp as Jim grabbed him by his hair and pulled him close.  It hadn’t hurt, the Sentinel had grabbed close to the scalp, but it was the primal look in his eyes that had taken his breath away.  He was thrown none too gently against the wall, pinned to the unyielding surface, a second hand grabbing the scruff of his shirt, a hard knee pushed between his legs as he was held. The Dark Sentinel was out of its box. Jim was growling low and deep in his throat, the primal Sentinel restraining his wayward Guide.

 

Moving slowly Blair raised his hands and began to run them over his Sentinel’s broad shoulders, down his chest and flanks, all the time cooing softly to him.  Then he lowered his head, the grip lessened and he was able to place his forehead against the Dark Sentinel’s shoulder, showing submission to him.

 

Only then was Blair lowered back to the ground.  The Dark Sentinel turned his head, not yet releasing his Guide, to study the other Dark Guide; this one was in an aggressive stance. 

 

He roared his disapproval of this, Dark Guide was the mate of the Dark Sentinel, but the Dark Guide when unbonded should show submissive behavior to a full bonded and mated Dark Sentinel. 

 

He released Blair and stalked towards Gambit, fully intending to bring this Guide to book, when there was a click, the Bo-staff shot out to its full length, and Gambit swung it in front of him, ready to fight. 

 

Jim was good, but Gambit’s agility was not human, the staff slammed into his stomach, and then swept low, taking his legs from under him, another hit stunned the Dark Sentinel. When he tried to get up, the glowing end of the Bo-staff was against his throat.  The Dark Sentinel ex-Ranger had been unable to get close to the wayward Guide.

 

Blair closed his eyes and allowed his own Dark Guide to come forward, “Gambit”; his voice had that tone, the call of the Dark Guide to it. “Let him up, he didn’t want to hurt you, only to help, but a Dark Sentinel can be,” Blair shrugged, “thick headed about these things.  You can back off.  Jim, you will not touch him.”

 

Gambit backed off, the Bo-staff still held at the ready, he saw the change in body language as Blair came to his Sentinel, reaching a hand down, he helped him to his feet, his hands traveling over his Sentinel, checking on him.

“Now for lesson one.”  The flannel shirt hit the floor, then there was a thud as his shoes followed, barefooted, Blair padded to the platform, and then moved to the center.

 

Gracefully, as only a bonded Dark Guide could be, he dropped to his knees, his hands resting on his thighs, head held high.

 

Locking his eyes on those of his Sentinel, he reached a hand up, undid the tie, releasing his long hair, and with a shake he shook it free and it cascaded round his shoulders.  Then he removed the t-shirt and threw it off the platform, then dropped forward, his hands resting palm down on the matting, his head down, hair veiling his face.

 

Jim’s breathing was coming faster as he opened his senses, his Dark Guide on his knees in submission to him.  The other Dark Guide was forgotten, he removed his shoes and then padded to stand looking down at Blair, before going to kneel beside his Guide, with the fingertips of one hand he ran them from the nap of Blair’s neck to his waist, luxuriating in the muscles and skin that moved under his hand. 

 

Only then did Blair ease back into the kneeling position, moving so that he was positioned behind Jim, wrapping one arm round his chest, plastering himself to his back, his other hand slowly petting his Sentinel.  Blair knew what all Dark Guides knew, submission was a tool in controlling the Dark Sentinel. The power was in the hands of the Guide not the Sentinel.

 

The Dark Guide lifted his head and viewed the unbonded Dark Guide. Gambit was watching them wide-eyed, he could feel the emotions coursing through the room, it was like wildfire, and the connection between the two men was like nothing he had ever experienced before.

 

Blair lifted one hand out to Gambit, inviting the other Dark Guide to join them when they bonded, to show him first hand what it was like, that there was nothing to fear.

 

The Bo-staff snapped shut, and was pushed into one of the pockets as he came closer.

 

“Your shoes and shirt, you need...”

 

“Non.” Gambit pulled back.

 

“Easy child, we won’t hurt you.”  Blair’s voice dipped to the seductive tones of the Dark Guide.  Blair didn’t repeat the request, he could feel the pain in the younger man’s mind, and Jim’s hand tightened on his wrist as he smelled the fear starting to .

 

Reaching out the Sentinel caught the edge of the duster and tugged it so that Gambit was kneeling near them.  Blair opened his mind fully so that when Jim reached out and slide his arms round Gambit’s waist the connection jumped into the younger Dark Guide’s mind, creating a link between them, using his own emotions to calm Gambit, who was barely keeping his fear under control.

 

Jim was gentle. With all the skill gained in helping Blair to come through the abuse he had suffered at the hands of the GDP; he coaxed the skittish younger Dark Guide nearer.  No Sentinel would hurt an unbonded, and the Dark Sentinel felt ashamed that he had scared him earlier, he allowed Blair to transmit that shame to Gambit. 

 

Slowly the new Dark Guide began to relax, as the link between them flowed freely.  It was then that Blair allowed the power in the link to increase, building slowly so that it began to surge through pathways in Gambit’s head that had never before been used, to the Mutant Empath it was like a tidal wave. 

 

His fingers dug into Jim’s shoulders as his head went back and he screamed as the tidal wave became scalding hot, searing through.  As the scream died his eyes rolled back in his head and his body went limp.

 

0-0-0

 

Jubilee was sat staring into her coffee as Logan tried to explain what was going on.  She knew that her Wolvie hated to confront emotions, any display made him uneasy.

 

In mid sentence he stopped, his head turning; the coffee cup fell from his hands and he was running full speed down the corridor, students scattering in all direction, Jubilee on his heels.  He bounded up the stairs two at a time, as in his mind he could hear Gambit’s scream echoing back and forward. 

 

He crashed through the door, a backhanded blow sent Blair flying as he tried to get to his Guide. The snitk sounded as the claws left their housing, the swipe just missed Jim’s head as he powered up to protect Blair, a kick to Logan’s stomach made the mutant fall backwards, but then he was coming at him again.

 

Jubilee ducked past, hurdling Blair fallen body and flipped Gambit onto his back.  She shook him, and when that failed, hit him hard across the face.  Red on black eyes flew open and his hand snapped up and caught her’s before it could land another blow.  She dragged him onto his side. He swore, pushing her out of the way, and then launched himself on to Logan’s back, wrapping his lean body round the feral Canadian. 

 

Feeling the weight hit him, Logan flipped the attacker over his shoulder and onto the floor, his claws coming down to impale, at the last second they halted as he stared into the face of his Guide.

 

Gambit hooked his hands round Logan’s wrists, Jubilee could not hear what he said, but the anger began to fade, at the same time she began to fidget and then flushed.  With a final growl at Sentinel and Guide, Logan retracted his claws and hauled his Guide to his feet, strong arms wrapping round the slender Cajun. The growl became a roar as he scented both Jim and Blair on him.  Releasing his hold only long enough to grab the front of his duster he began to tow the Cajun towards their room, he had to get the scent off Gambit, it was riding him like a tiger on his back.

 

Jubilee turned back, and then waved a hand, “I am okay guys, er, guys,” but Sentinel and Guide only had time for each other, as Jim cradled Blair against him to check for injuries.  His fingers tracing where Logan had backhanded him. “Right, get a room guys,” she backed out and closed the door, for a moment letting her head rest against it.

 

It was food for thought, hell it was a feast; even she would never have done that to Logan, jumping on his back like that.  She knew in battle with the X-Men he had sometimes swung at team members when lost in the Wolverine, yet Gambit had without hesitation jumped onto his back and the Wolverine had known it was him, and stopped a lethal attack.

 

Maybe what Logan had said was correct, there was a connection between them, and he did need Gambit.

 

She would have to think on that further.

 

0-0-0-0-0

 

Logan was growling as he towed his Guide, a student came round the corner and never saw Logan until it was nearly too late.  In fear she threw the only thing she was carrying; the teddy bear came flying at him, Logan claws sniked out and then in as the teddy bear’s head was cleaved from its body and a legend was born.

 

Pulling the door open, he tugged Gambit in, then began to circle him slowly, openly scenting him, pausing only to tug at his clothing, he wanted Gambit out of them and into the shower, the rival Sentinel’s scent was driving him crazy.  But even lost in the emotions of the Wolverine he knew that Gambit would freak out if he were pawed at.

 

“Kid go and have a shower, now. Can’t help it. You smell of him. Ellison that is...”

 

“ His scent?”

 

“Yeah, all over you.”  Gambit turned to get his sweats, but was pushed into the bathroom,  “I’ll bring them to you.”

 

0-0-0-0

 

The shower had soon been forgotten, and Gambit found himself soaking in the tub, the bath foam made him grin, he could not believe bubble bath when Logan had returned with it, and tipped a too generous amount in his bath.  The feral Canadian was now sat on the edge of the bath smoking a cigar, watching him as he soaked. 

 

Gambit realized he just needed to be close to him. He flicked the ash off his own cigarette into the soap dish, and mentally shook his head. Logan was fussing over him as if there was no tomorrow.  Blair had spoken of the Blessed Protector, and he was beginning to think that this was what he was experiencing.  The silence was comfortable, and he began to review what he had felt in the bonding, the feeling of being safe and secure. His head still ached slightly, but he could not help but feel that something had been released.

 

0-0-0-0

Xavier’s Study

 

Blair was seated in the study, “So you see we’re going to have to take them into the mountains, they need the isolation to achieve the bond. I managed to open up the pathways in Gambit’s mind, but they need to find their own bonding.”

 

“Their own bonding, isn’t it all the same?”

 

“No.”  Blair put in firmly. But made no effort to explain any further.

 

“Logan has a cabin in the mountains.”  Charles put in thoughtfully.

 

“I would prefer that they use the Sanctuary, it’s an area owned by the GDP.”

 

Charles felt the mental shudder that ran through Blair, and wondered about it; also it was funny that Blair would promote a GDP facility.

 

As if reading his mind Blair added, “The area is secure so no innocent campers are going to wander across us, because that could be very dangerous.  More than likely Logan’s feral state will trigger Jim’s and then just say it would not be safe for anyone else to go near them.”

 

“You can arrange that with the GDP.”

 

“We will.”  Jim cut in smoothly, he liked to limit Blair’s contact with the organization that had so abused his Guide early in their association, and was still the major source of his worst nightmares.

 

0-0-0-0-0

 

Jubilee was puzzled by everything that has happened since she had come home.   Logan still hasn’t talked to her about Gambit beyond that short introduction.  She tried to equate what she had seen in the room when Gambit had risked his life by jumping on Wolverine, but she could not get over one thing, the fact that Gambit had been naked in Wolverine’s bed.   That fact seemed to highlight all the things that Sophie had said about him. 

 

In an attempt to clear her mind she decided to go for a walk in the gardens of the Mansion.  It was then she saw Sophie, near the back gate, deep in conversation with a man in his late thirties, but what caught her attention was the dark full length coat, that flapped round his feet, it reminded her of Gambit.

 

She gave a shudder, it was as if someone had walked over her grave, and a line from a play came unbidden to her mind. “Something wicked this way comes.”

 

Sophie has spotted her, she places a hand on the man’s arm as if asking him to stay, and then came over to her before she could walk away.  “You want to get rid of the Cajun, well I might just be able to help you.”

 

“Why, you thought it was funny.”  Jubilee let her bitterness show.

 

“Because having that thing here is a slur on the whole school, and your precious Wolvie’s virtue.”

 

“Logan needs that swamp rat.” Jubilee put in bitterly.

 

“Logan needs someone that can help him, not some filthy little bog hopping swamp rat, who’s going to do a run for it as soon as the heat dies down. You see the Cajun’s wanted; he’s hiding here to save his own neck. So its better he’s gone now before he brings Wolverine and the school down.”

 

“That man is he a cop?”

 

“ He’s from New Orleans, Captain LeBeau.  He’s got a warrant for Gambit, all we have to do is hand him over.”

 

“Then why hasn’t he gone to the Professor?”

 

“Because they believe his story, and the Professor believes in second chances.  You know him Jubilee, who else would have given Logan a second chance?”

 

Jubilee looked towards the Mansion, could she do it, did she have the strength to save her Wolvie?  She cursed the fact that Rogue wasn’t there, the other girl was older and would be able to advise her, after all, she had known Logan longer than her and knew what was best for him.  But Rogue wasn’t due back for a while, and this couldn’t wait.

 

“Okay, but we don’t hurt him right.”

 

Sophie slung an arm round her shoulder, “Trust me.”

 

Jubilee just nodded. It had to be done, so why was she feeling so bad?

 

0-0-0-0

 

Two days later the plans had been laid, she had hacked into the medical data base of the Mansion, hell it had been easy, Dr. McCoy was well known for leaving his computer logged on while he worked, and it had only taken a moment for her to bring up the Cajun’s medical records. 

 

She read through it quickly and it sickened her, how could he live with himself, and how could the Professor let that, that, creature, get his claws into her friend?  Quickly she scrawled down the information she needed, and by the time Dr. McCoy came back with his tea, she was gone.

 

It was decided that Sunday was the best day for their trap, Sunday at the Mansion was always quiet; some of the students going home for the weekend, and the others were shopping in the Mall or at the Cinema.

 

First she had to find the Cajun, she had seen Logan leave on his motorbike, and had knocked on Gambit’s door, but on getting no reply had pushed it open. Looking round she whistled softly, for someone who made an art work out of looking disheveled, his room was almost Spartan, and so clean you could eat off the floor.

 

Opening the wardrobe she removed a duffle bag, it was standard issue with the school, name stenciled on the side, and began to pack away his personal things, not that it took long, a few Cajun CD’s and clothes. 

 

With a disgusted snort she realized that he didn’t appear to own a pair of briefs or boxers.  She topped the bag off with three packs of playing cards.  Looking up she noticed more boxed near the bed.  

 

It was then she realized something; the bed didn’t look right.  When she placed a hand on it she realized what it was, the mattress had been removed, and as she walked round towards the window, she noticed for the first time the nest he had been building in that corner. 

 

“This guy is crazy,” she muttered out aloud, before adding, “He’s got to go.”   It was going to be hard, since he was an empath, but not impossible.  But first she stashed the duffle bag in her room to dispose of later; it wasn’t as if the guy was ever coming back.

 

Jubilee looked out of the large bay window and saw Gambit walking across the grounds; she rushed out, only slowing when she got near him.

 

“Gambit,” she saw the one of his hands was in the pocket of the duster, “pax, okay pax, can we talk?” 

 

She put on her best smile and was pleased that when his hand appeared it only held a new cigarette, which he lit with the one he was just finishing.  He took a pull on it before releasing the smoke in a plume.

 

“That’s bad for you, you know that.”  It was the only thing she could think of to say, it seemed she noticed to take him back.

 

“Gambit knows that petite, but it’s one t’ing Gambit doesn’t have to worry about.”

 

“Your mutation?”

 

“Oui.”

 

“You called me Petite. What does that mean?”

 

“Little one.”

 

Jubilee pulled herself up to her full height.  “Not so little Cajun,” but when he smiled she let the posture go.

 

“Look, I am sorry, I went off the deep end.  Its just... ending up in bed with you,” she flushed then added, “and some of the students keep teasing me about it.”

 

“Dey only jealous petite”. It was said with a rakish grin.

 

“Get over yourself Cajun”,  Jubilee found herself warming to him, she pushed it down ruthlessly and carried on “I was worried about Logan, you know, what they were saying about him.”

 

Her breath caught as she saw the look of anger on the Cajun’s face.

 

His handsome features took on a chilling look that stopped her in mid-stride. “Who said what?”

 

“Soph...,” she stopped herself in time.  “Just stupid talk, and Wolvie, he’s been like an uncle, always there in my corner, er, well our corner, Rogue and me, we have been family.”  She cocked her head, “you know what I am trying to tell you don’t you?”

 

“We all make mistakes, only some of us get second chances and some of us don’t.”

 

“Do I?”

 

“Yeah, petite, y’ do.”  His face softened and she felt herself start to color, some how being the sole object of his attention made her uneasy.

 

Closing the distance she slide her arm through his, trying to ignore the flinch, and tugged him to continue walking.

 

It was for Wolvie’s good, so why did she feel so bad?

 

0-0-0-0-0

 

As they walked, Jubilee began to have the terrible feeling that what she was about to do was wrong, that she should have given the Cajun a chance to explain.  But she hardened her heart; she thought about the way he had snared her Wolverine, binding him to him, Logan could do better than him. 

 

When the men attacked it was fast, Gambit pushed her out of the way, positioning himself in front of her to protect her.  Her mouth dropped open as she watched him fight; she had never seen anyone move that fast before, with a lethal grace.

 

The Bo-staff was a blur, as he beat the men back, the man that Sophie had been talking to attacked but was beaten back again; Gambit’s lips had pulled back into a smile.  “Salut Henri, long time Mon Amie.”  With the agility of a cat he leapt as Henri’s bo-staff slashed towards his legs, he cleared it effortlessly, and countered the move, putting the other man down hard.

 

Henri LeBeau swore; the freak was always needling him when they fought, and he had always managed to get away.  But this time he was doomed from the start.  LeBeau looked past him to where Jubilee was getting to her feet, the girl moved her hands towards her then away with a flick of the wrist, there was a paff and Gambit was hit in the back.  The explosion threw him ten feet; he rolled and tried to get back to his feet, when another paff hit him in the chest, this time he never moved.

 

Henri closed the distance between them and aimed a kick to the unconscious man’s ribs; the weight of the kick lifted Gambit up and flipped him onto his back. 

 

Jubilee could not believe what she was seeing.  “You can’t do that, you’re a cop.”  His hand went to the small of his back, pulled out an inhibitor collar, and snapped it round Gambit’s throat.  Only then did he manhandle the limp body, handcuffing his hands behind his back. 

Henri look at Jubilee, for the first time, “Y’ were to bring us something.”

 

She dug the packet from her pocket and handed it to him, “Aspirin.  The medical test Hank, er Dr. McCoy did, showed that it should act like a sedative on him, this should keep him under.”

 

Henri’s smile was softened, “Y’ did well,” then his lips twitched, “Who said we were cops?”  But by then Gambit was being slung into the van.

 

“You’re not?”

 

The answer was silence.

 

0-0-0-0

 

It was early evening when it hit the fan. Logan has been back 20 minutes when he came storming into the kitchen. “Jubes you seen the Cajun?”

 

“No, not all day, is he in his room?”  She tried to put it innocently.

 

Halfway out of the door Logan turned and just looked at her, his head tilting slightly to one side, and she saw his nose flare, he was scenting her.

 

“Then why are you smelling of him?”

 

Before she knew what were happening she was being dragged upstairs, by then Warren and Bobby has joined them, Logan pushed her into their arms, and then inhaled, her scent permeated the room.

 

“What were doing in his room?”

 

“That night...”

 

“Try again kid, that was my room, you never set foot in here, and this scent is fresh.”  He frowned, as he took in the room’s condition, quickly he jerked open the wardrobe door, then the drawers, nothing; the place has been picked clean.

 

“Okay Logan, I lied, I saw Gambit, he was leaving, said he could not hack it at the Mansion. He...”

 

Blair came up behind them, “No way, a Guide would never leave his Sentinel.”

 

“What do you know, butt out mister.”

 

The Dark Guide reacted.  Blair would never have done it, but the Dark Guide, would.  He caught her by her braided hair and slammed her against the wall. “Listen to me brat, only death or force would remove a Dark Guide from his Sentinel’s side, and girl, you already tried once.”  His voice had dropped to a low and dangerous whisper, as he felt her move her hand against his chest he leaned in, “try that with me and I’ll break your neck.”

 

Warren and Bobby exchanged a worried glance. The Professor had explained about the ancient Dark Guide persona that inhabited the body of the usually passive Dr. Sandburg, but this was the first time they had seen it unleashed, and it was like entering the twilight zone.

 

Jubilee’s hand dropped away, looking over his shoulder she saw his Sentinel.  Before she could call out to him Logan moved in front of her, his anger barely under control, in his hand a battered paperback book. “He would never leave without this, girl what have you done?”

 

She ignored Wolverine’s question and spoke directly to Jim Ellison. “You’re a police officer. He was wanted in New Orleans, he had to go, before he caused trouble.”

 

“If you let him get taken back to New Orleans, you’ve signed his death warrant,” Jim put in levelly. “Gambit isn’t Thieves Guild, they have been waiting to get their hands on him for the last 15 years, if we don’t get him back, he’s dead.

 

0-0-0-0

 

The X plane took off vertically from the Mansion, Jubilee looked out of the window and clutched the sick bag in her hand, then glanced across at Hank, she hated flying.  Dr. McCoy had tried to stop her coming, but she had dug her heels in, this was something she had to make right for Wolverine.

 

Seated next to her was Rogue, she gripped her gloved hand tightly, thankful that her older sister in the Wolverine family of strays had come home.  Whispering, she had told Rogue all about what had happened, her jealously, fears and shame.  The tears had been genuine, but she had known, even as she had spoken, that Rogue would never have made that mistake. The older girl was only a few years older, but had a mature head on her shoulder, and didn’t allow her emotions to rule her head.  But all the same Rogue gave her comfort, promising they would find Gambit and make it right.  Rogue pulled her close, slipped an arm round her, and hugged her, before looking over her bowed head to Wolverine.

 

Rogue was worried and tried not to show it.  Logan was seated away from them, his stillness unnatural.  She then looked towards the newcomers; the tall, older man with the receding hair but strongly handsome face was talking softly to his companion, a young, good looking man with long dark chestnut hair and flashing blue eyes.  The younger man got up and moved to kneel down by the side of Wolverine, he spoke softly and laid a hand on his arm, she expected him to reject the touch, but instead his head turned slowly as if on rusty springs, and his hand ruffled the flowing dark curls, his fingertips brushed the side of his face. Only then did the younger man return to his seat.

 

Lowering her voice Rogue asked, “Jubilee, this Gambit, what’s he like?  I mean what’s he look like?”

 

“Tall, about six two, I think, black duster, good looking, you know, long hair, er auburn, bangs, slim, rangy, er Cajun.”  She trailed off, so far Wolverine hadn’t spoken to her, but she had felt his eyes burn into her back, at the moment he couldn’t trust himself with her and that hurt.

 

She had betrayed him.

 

“Why?”

 

“Just got a feeling I might have met him once.”  She trailed off and settled down for a long flight.

 

0-0-0-0-0

 

Henri LeBeau moved to the back of the van, their flight had landed only twenty minutes ago and their cargo was now safely on it’s way to the LeBeau house, and Guild Justice. 

 

At 38, Henri was the first and only son of Jean Luc LeBeau, the Patriarch of the Thieves Guild, and his heir apparent.  He lacked his father’s six foot six frame, taking after his mother in height, he barely topped five foot nine, but his stocky build was pure LeBeau. 

 

He fingered his moustache, feeling the singed end of it where he had nearly gotten fried by a charged card.  They had been lucky, that fool of a girl had believed their stories, and helped them.

 

The doors to the LeBeau estate opened and the van was admitted.  Going to the rear of the building, a ramp opened and it went to the lower level.  As Henri went to report to his father, he gave orders for the Pet to be taken down to holding.

 

0-0-0-0-0

 

Jean Luc was holding Mattie Baptiste, the woman had come to him all those years ago when he had first become Patriarch to the Thieves Guild.  She had counseled him well, and was the only person that Jean Luc could speak openly with about Guild matters, other than his son. Her council was wise and she never had let him down.  It was she that had, 24 years ago, encouraged him to break with the Antiquarian, the old Wizard that had used his powers to promote the Thieves Guild in their battle against the equally powerful Assassins Guild.  She had seen the corruption, and had told him that only if they removed his hold on the Guild would the Guild become strong.

 

She had collapsed suddenly into his arms; he helped her to a seat and was coaxing a drink of brandy into her.  Mattie’s hand was shaking.

 

Mattie was a handsome woman, her age was hard to guess, she hadn’t changed, and she seemed eternal.

 

Henri rushed to her side, after the death of his mother she had been like a mother to him.

 

“What happened Papa?”

 

“She just collapsed, Mattie, are you...”

 

“Am alright Jean Luc” her hand went to her head, she was puzzled, it had been like a sledgehammer knocking her down. Too dizzy to stand she clung to Jean Luc, her eyes rolled up in her head and she passed out. 

 

It was Jean Luc that swept her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom, by then she had started to come round.  As she lay on the bed she pushed him away, he had Guild business to conclude.  She closed her eyes to push away the pain that started to radiate through her body.

 

0-0-0-0

 

Because of a series of Guild meetings it was late evening before Jean Luc finally went to the holding cell.  He was an imposing figure, a big bear of a man, but who walked light on his feet, his large thick fingers belaying the fact that he could open any lock by touch.  He was a total contradiction to his son Henri, who seemed only half his size.  He looked at the Pet, the young man was hanging from his wrists, his feet swinging three feet from the floor, his eyes closed, blood running from his nose and mouth, a cut above his left eye, and his long hair hanging down. Five of LeBeau’s men stood round, bored, waiting for further orders.

 

He walked so that he was close enough to look the Pet in the face.

 

“You awake?”  When he didn’t get an answer he backhanded Gambit across the face, the blow sending his body swinging.

 

The cut on his mouth opened up and fresh blood flowed down his chin.  Jean Luc caught Gambit by the front of his shirt, and then hit him again, this time anchoring him, the blows like gunshots.  The eyes this time cracked open, and closed again, the light was burning them.

 

“Open your eyes.”

 

Gambit didn’t even listen to him, they were going to hurt him if he did it or not.  The pain made his eyes fly open and he could not quite bite back on the scream as the knife went into his thigh.

 

“Now keep them open, obey the Master.”  

 

Gambit was breathing heavily, trying to push the pain away.  It was the not the Patriarch that had done it, it was one of the men that has been using him as a punching bag from the moment he had come round.

 

Jean Luc ordered the man back, his anger blinding him to the abuse his men were doing.

 

“You will pay Pet for...”

 

That was as far as he got as Gambit spat in his face, his words slurred but the insult stung.  Jean Luc lashed out, his big fist thudding into the helpless man.

 

Henri pulled his father back, “He’s out cold papa, don’t waste your time on him.”  Before he could say anything else, one of the maid’s came running down.  Mattie had taken a turn for the worse; she was spitting blood.

 

“We can wait, Henri you are with me,” then to the men added, “You men, he must not escape and he must not die other than that he is yours.”

 

0-0-0-0

 

Early the next morning Mattie woke, her head was clear, but her body was hurting, the pain radiating from her stomach upwards, no the pain was lower, her eyes opened wide, she was a telepath, and in the background she could hear a rumbling, like thunder on the horizon.  When she tried to sit up, Jean Luc moved quickly, easing her back down. She had had a rough night, turning and thrashing in her sleep.

 

“You have to rest.”  He tried to still his fear as her warm hazel eyes seemed to lose their focus. It was as if a floodgate had opened in her mind.

 

“Your son, Jean Luc, is hurting, you must go to him,” she clung to him, her fingers digging into his flesh through his shirt.

 

“Mattie, Henri is safe, see.”  The older woman turned to look at Henri, reaching out to him. “Non Jean Luc, your son is hurting, you must save him.  I can feel him, his pain, his,” her face scrunched up, and the tears began to flow.  “So much pain, they are hurting him now.”

 

Henri looked to his father and the color left his face, he knew Mattie too well to think that she was making it up, even in illness.  “Gambit!”

 

Jean Luc swore, “she collapsed when that creature came into our house, and now,” he broke off, “Mattie, he is no son of mine.”

 

“I feel the LeBeau line, he is one with you, go, and you have to help him, make this right.”

 

When Henri hesitated she tried to get up, “Go chile’, your brother, y’ must help him.”

 

Jean Luc, put a hand to his face.  “Mon dieu what have I done?”

 

 

0-0-0

 

Henri took the stairs two at a time, he didn’t know what to think of Mattie’s words, but he had to find out.  The door opened before he could reach the door to the holding cell, Julian was coming out, he was adjusting his clothing, a smug satisfied look on his face; blood smeared his hands and clothing, and an empty bottle of bourbon was in his hand. Henri pushed past, and stopped in his tracks. 

 

The Pet was on the floor, he had been cut down at some time during the night, his clothes had been torn off, he was a mass of blood and bruised flesh, he had been badly beaten, the guards were circled round him, one was upending a bottle of drink down his throat as another held his head in place as he was drowned on the booze. 

 

The guards were out of control, drunk not only on the whisky but on power, the Pet was in no position to stop them, and through the night they had egged each other on, their excesses getting worse, their excuse being that he would die anyway, so who cared. 

 

Sickened Henri struck out with his fists, beating at them and pulling them off Gambit, one of the men swore and spun round ready to retaliate, when he saw it was the heir apparent to the Thieves Guild.

 

“Guild M m master LeBeau,” his head rocked under the backhanded blow that Henri dealt him. 

 

“Get away from him.”

 

Henri didn’t even check they were obeying, his eyes were fixed on Gambit; the mutant’s lips had turned blue.  Swearing and at the same time offering up a prayer, he rolled Gambit onto his stomach, and began to pumping his body, forcing whiskey from his lungs.  Henri felt the body jerk and a breath was taken, the next second Gambit was throwing up on the floor.

 

Supporting his newly discovered brother’s body, ignoring the stench of vomit, he snarled, “give me that coat,” he recognized it as the one that Gambit had been wearing, the only piece of clothing that hadn’t been cut off his body.  Henri pulled it round the barely conscious man and held him close. 

 

Lifting him as if he weighed no more than a baby, Henri took him out of the holding cell and up into the house, ignoring the startled look on the men’s faces. This was family, and nothing was more important than family.

 

As soon as they entered the entrance hall Mattie was waiting.  She brushed past Jean Luc as she pushed her pain back down deep inside her mind, the pain was radiating from the young man in Henri’s arms.  Only through helping him would it stop. 

 

Leaning over the now unconscious man she gently brushed her hands over the bruised face, dried blood clotted in his hairline from a blow to the side of his head, his lip was split and his jaw heavily bruised by fists. When she saw Jean Luc hang back she said sagely, “Blood of your blood, flesh of your flesh Jean Luc.”

 

“He can’t be.”

 

“He is, trust your Tante. Now this way.”

 

Henri carried Gambit into one of the downstairs rooms, laying him onto the  bed as his father pulled down the blankets.  Jean Luc stared down at the young man he had sworn to destroy, now, if Mattie was right, all that had changed. 

 

For the first time he looked at the fine boned features, and his hand tightened on the back of the sofa. Margaret Dupont, his lover over 24 years ago, she had been his secretary until the death of his wife, then she had become the rock.  They had become lovers, she had brought him back, helped him regain his humanity. 

 

But Henri had refused to accept her, a child; he had snubbed her at every turn, seeing her only as a rival to his dead mother.  They had parted; she had died soon after in childbirth, the child had been still born.  The words now came back to haunt him.  Margaret had had the most startling eyes, a burning hazel that had flashed with passion and power. “Oh Mon Dui.”  Jean Luc sat down quickly.

 

Henri coughed, “we will need to have his DNA checked, but Mattie...”

 

“Mattie is never wrong Henri. Not on things like this.”  For the first time he reached out a thick finger and lightly moved a lock of hair from the closed eyes of his child.  His gaze traveled down the battered body, taking in the signs of abuse.  “The men who did this, have them detained.”

 

“Papa?”

 

“Did you tell them they could do this?”

 

“Of course not!”  Henri allowed his anger to show.

 

“Then Antiquarian Pet or not, they exceeded their orders, they will be punished.”

 

0-0-0-0-0

 

Gambit came round, and there was no halfway stage.  One minute he was out cold, the next he was awake, the pillow was arching towards Henri, only his Thieves reactions gave him a chance of avoiding it, even so the inner door was blown off its hinges.  Gambit was halfway out of the bed when he was tackled and pinned face down.

 

Henri suddenly saw that the bedclothes were pulsing with biokinetic power. He managed to pull Gambit off it and throw them out of the window before pushing himself flat; the explosion threw turf up against the windows.  He twisted round; Gambit was now holding a book.  Henri cursed; he had never realized how many items could be used as weapons in Gambit’s hands.

 

“Pax, Gambit,” he held his hands out, palm first, and then yelled at the men to back away from the door. “No one is going to hurt you.”

 

Gambit snarled at him and the power increased.

 

Mattie rushed in, her eyes never leaving Gambit, he immediately fixed on her.  She was broadcasting, making no attempt to hide her telepathic ability.  Slowly the power began to leave the book. Only then did she reach down and take his hand, she could feel the agony, the young man was hurting badly, and this attempted escape hadn’t helped.  Her hand ghosted over his face, brushing the hair back, “Y’ tired chile, no one will hurt y’ now.”  Never losing eye contact she continued “Henri y’ can help him into the bed now.”

 

Henri moved slowly, he felt Gambit flinch away from him but didn’t pull back; he firmly took hold of him, and lifted him back onto the bed.  The red on black eyes where closed now.

 

Mattie put a hand on his shoulder “get Dr. Howard now.”

 

“Tante?”

 

“Go chile.”

 

He had just put the phone down when he saw his father come into the room; he saw the haunted look on his face, “Papa?”

 

“He is a LeBeau.”  Jean Luc looked down at the now unconscious man. “We have much to make right Henri.”

 

“We will papa, we will.”

 

0-0-0-0

 

Dr. Howard arrived at the front door of the LeBeau house, before he even had a chance to knock the door opened and he was ushered in.

 

Jean Luc looked from the doctor to the stranger with him. “And this is?”

 

“Dr. Bailey, a colleague of mine Jean Luc, he is an expert of the mutant state, and I thought he could be of help.”

 

“And this charming young lady?”  Jean Luc favored the young woman with a smile as he took her hand and kissed the air above it.

 

“Miss Marie Pearson, she is a nurse, we might have need of her help if his condition is as bad as you have said.  Now where is my patient?”

 

Once the doctors had been admitted to the room, Jean Luc gave his apologies and left, he entered the downstairs room and took a seat at the computer scanner; his fingers flew across the keyboards, the bedroom came into sharp focus, but the two men seemed to waver like a road on a hot day.

 

There was something very wrong here.

 

The nurse with the distinct brunette and gray hair looked round the room then whispered to the taller of the two men, as the man calling himself Dr. Howard  leaned over LeBeau’s newly discovered son.

 

Quickly he pulled the blankets back, and his breath caught in a sharp hiss, fingers moved over the abused flesh.

 

“It is as we feared, our Acadian friend is in a bad way.” He opened the bag and took out some equipment.  “Rogue you first, remember you have to be very careful.”

 

The nurse nodded and then removed her gloves and moved round to sit on the edge of the bed, for a moment she looked down into the battered face of the man she was here to help. With the tips of her fingers she moved some of the hair back from his face. 

 

Earlier she had absorbed the powers of Wolverine, among them the ability to heal from any wound. That was her mutation, she could absorb powers, and it was also her curse. 

 

Rogue placed her hands either side of the Cajun’s face, but this time she willed the power from her body, it was as if an electric shock had hit him, Gambit’s head went back and his body arched as she hotwired his healing ability.  In her head she could feel Logan’s emotions for this young man, the need of a Sentinel for his Guide.  Emotions of caring and cherishing that Wolverine would never admit to, but which burned strong.

 

The bruising on Gambit’s face began to turn brown, as the Wolverine’s healing factor kicked in, the cut to the lip and head began to close up.   Rogue pushed herself to the limit to save him. 

 

Suddenly her energy went and she dropped forward onto Gambit, only just managing to avoid falling on him. In that second red on black eyes flashed open, a hand wrapped into her hair and pulled her down, soft lips met hers and she was pulled into an earth-shattering kiss.

 

With a startled yelp she pulled back from Gambit, his eyes slide shut,  she hadn’t the power to absorb him, but as she had pulled back she had felt a flash of heat that has seared through her body, leaving her tingling.

 

Warren allowed a smile, “The boy certainly had good reflexes, from coma to lover five seconds flat.” 

 

McCoy smiled at the quip and then was all business again. “Rogue has healed his wounds, but his energy level is low, if he attempts to charge anything he could go hypothermic, we have to leave him now, and return to collect him later.”

 

“Logan’s not going to like this.”

 

“Well when did Logan get a medical degree, it has to be this way, we couldn’t fight a way out of here with him like this. We keep to the plan.”

 

“Papa” Henri was watching over his fathers’ shoulder, “those are the X-Men”,  he had recognized them from his surveillance of the Mansion.

 

“It appears that my petite fils friends have arrived, call Reg White, it may be that we can use these people.”

 

Getting to his feet, Jean Luc got up to bid the doctors goodbye.

 

0-0-0-0-0

 Hotel Majestic

 

Hank closed down the image cloak and sat on the bed, looking round at this fellow X-Men.  Warren switched off his own cloaking device and instead of a doctor Hank was looking at a good-looking young man with the large white wings of an angel. 

 

Warren’s wings fluttered, he was restless, so far they had followed several leads given to them by Reg White, a colleague of Jim Ellison’s that had come down to the Big Easy three years ago, and was acting as guide to them. About where a meeting was going to be held, and they would get their clear shot at rescuing Gambit.

 

Now Reg was in the middle of giving a briefing, shifting nervously as for the first time he saw the extent of their mutation.

 

“Word on the street is that the Thieves Guild is holding a Council meeting with the Assassin’s Guild, its about the Pet,” Logan growled and Reg heard the snitk of the claws, he tried to repress a shudder.  “Er, Gambit, the Thieves have him and the Assassin’s want him.  It’s the best chance you’re going to get to rescue him.”

 

Logan cut in, “And the Antiquarian?”  His voice was barely human.  As time was passing he was falling deeper into the primal nature.

 

White looked uncomfortable, “Has said that he will do nothing to help his Pet, Gambit is to be sacrificed to the Assassins.”

 

Jim leaned in, “you need to tell me where this is going down Reg.”

 

“Shit Jim, they will kill me if I tell you that, you don’t understand.”

 

There was a loud snitk right behind Reg’s head, which the New Orleans cop could not mistake.

 

Jim never broke eye contact with his friend. “Reg, Logan is beginning to lose it, he has to find his Guide, believe me, and none of the people holding him are going to be in any position to retaliate.”

 

“Jim, you’re a cop.”

 

“No, I am a Sentinel, and this is Sentinel business.”

 

“The warehouse district, pier 323, it’s neutral, they hold court there.

 

He shuddered as he felt the hot breath on his neck, then it was gone.

 

0-0-0-0-0

 

The knock on the door had the X-Men on their feet; Warren and Hank activated the imager as Logan opened the door.  Stepping back he allowed Jean Luc LeBeau to enter, the man was alone.  Rogue moved to the window, a car was parked along the block, “five bodyguards.”

 

“Gentlemen.  Ladies.  I think we need to talk.”

 

Logan started forward, only to have his arm caught by Blair Sandburg, for a moment yellow feral eyes met cool blue.  Only the fact he was faced by a Guide made Logan stop, he would have had to hurt Blair to get to LeBeau, and even in his most feral state, he would not hurt a Guide.

 

Jim shook his head, “How long have you been in his pocket Reg?”

 

“Two years, and it’s not like you think, Jean Luc saved my son, and this is the first time.”

 

“De only time I will ask, and only because it concerns Mon Fils.”

 

“Your son,” Blair cut in, “Gambit is your son?  Yet you...”

 

“We didn’t know.”

 

Blair understood, he could feel the raw emotions of the older man, “He’s speaking the truth Jim, they never knew.”

The older Cajun shook himself mentally, emotional blood letting in public was not his way, “De Assassin’s want Gambit, and they will challenge him to trial by combat, for every Assassin he has killed he will have to fight one, and in his condition, he will die.”

 

For the first time Jim’s face cracked into a smile, “but he doesn’t have to fight alone.”

 

“Rules of de Combat.”

 

“Gambit is a Guide, a blood vendetta has been called by the Assassins, which means that his Sentinel, and those of his clan, are seen as an extension of him.  Logan can fight by his side, as can we.”

 

Jean Luc smiled as he produced a cigar, he was beginning to like how these people thought.

 

 

0-0-0-0

 

For the Patriarch of the Thieves Guild  it was a time of trying to make friends with his lost  son, whatever the X-Men had done had healed the worst of the injuries, but Gambit was still exhausted as he body healed at an accelerated rate. Sitting on the edge of the bed, a picture album in his hand, Jean Luc tried to explain the past to his new son.  He held nothing back, his rejection of Margaret, and his remorse at her death.

 

The Patriarch hoped that his empathy would make him realize he was speaking the truth.  Mattie spent hours seated by his bedside, talking to Gambit, often holding his hand, allowing her mind to try to comfort him, showing him the truth through her emotions, linking Gambit to Jean Luc, allowing the younger man to for the time feel the emotions of his birth father.  But it was still early days.

 

For Jean Luc a momentous moment was when Henri came back from the record office, as he silently laid the file in front of his father, “Mon frere has a name now.”

 

Jean Luc opened the file; it was the birth and then death certificate for Remy Dupont.

 

Henri watched as his father screwed the death certificate up and then handed the file back with the birth certificate, “have this changed Henri, he will carry the name of his father.”

 

“Papa, how do you know that he will accept us, we have been at war, I have tried to kill him, and we are enemies,” he ploughed on, “a few days of talking cannot undo years of hatred, Papa.”

 

“He is my son and your brother, this is the family we should have had, what has been lost has now been found, I will not lose him again.”  

 

Henri knew not to argue, his father was set on the idea.  He had examined his own feelings, he had rejected Margaret Dupont and lost his father a chance of happiness.  He could turn his face against his brother or accept him, this time he would accept.  His place as first-born could not be challenged, and he respected Gambit as a fighter and thief, better that he was in the Guild fold.  

 

Remy LeBeau.  Somehow it sounded right.

 

 

 

 

0-0-0-0-0

 

Jean Luc was in the formal robes of the Patriarch of the Thieves Guild of New Orleans.  Henri and a pale-faced Gambit, dressed all in black, the tight fitting battle suit of the Guild under his black duster, flanked him.  The Bo-staff was tucked in the loops on the thigh of the suit.  His hair was pulled back into a ponytail and then folded back and held in place on the nap of his neck.

 

Marcus, the Patriarch of the Assassin’s Guild, was a formable warrior, his face carrying the scar inflicted when he had challenged for his right to lead the Guild over thirty years ago.  He was a crafty old fox, known for his cunning; enemies knew he was to be feared.

 

His voice rung out.

 

“Jean Luc, as according to our treaty, we are here for the creature Gambit.  You will hand him over and he will suffer for what he has done to our Guild.  Only when he has felt the wrath of the Guild will he die.”

 

“Non.”

 

“Jean Luc.”  There was a note of warning in his voice.

 

“Gambit is my son.”

 

There was a stunned silence, “and for that we should forget what he has done, those that he has killed.”  There was a mocking to Marcus’s voice that was echoed by the voices of his men, rising in anger.

 

“He fought in a war, that war is now over.”

 

“We demand blood for blood.” Marcus snarled back.

 

Gambit put a hand out. “Trial by combat, it is the right of any Thief.”

 

“You are no Thief, whore.”  Marcus snapped back.

 

Jean Luc cut in, “Gambit was trained by Master Thief Thomas Bevis, therefore through him, he is a Guild Thief, and the right to combat is in our treaty.”

 

“Then so be it.”  Marcus turned on his heel and ordered his men forward into the well of the Council chamber.

 

Gambit was still hurting, but he pushed the pain back, slipping out of the duster.  His body had almost healed but he was still sore, and exhausted. 

 

The black armor was different to the one he normally wore in that it had the deep red stripes of the Thieves Guild on the sleeve, marking him as a Master Thief.  Each stripe actually was a small pocket containing cards.  He pulled the Bo-staff out, opening it fully, and used it to vault down.  In mid-air he somersaulted and landed on his feet, the staff already twisting in his hands as he faced down the Assassins that spread out. 

 

Marcus has allocated one Assassin for every one that he had killed.  Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth.

 

They’d just begun to move forward when the glass roof shattered and Logan dropped the 40 feet into the Chamber.  He landed, rolled, and came to his feet, his eyes yellow, shoulders down, leaning forward, his hands held in front of him, the claws shining in the light, his face twisted in anger. 

 

Showing his canines the Wolverine moved forward to flank his guide..

 

Even as the Assassin’s and Thieves pulled their weapons, a new voice cut in. 

 

Blair called out, “Gambit is a Guide, and it is their right to fight with their Sentinel.”

 

Jim flanked his Guide, and for the first time in centuries a Dark Guide appeared in public in the robes of his calling. The black robes covered boots and trouser, at his waist a purple belt, over his shoulder a harness holding a sword, at this moment Blair Sandburg has been replaced by the Dark Guide. 

 

Jim matched Blair step for step, his black clothing was relieved only by the purple lattice of braiding that came from the shoulder and finished at his wrist, and at his waist a sword, the Dark Sentinel standing bodyguard to his Guide as they entered the Council Meeting.

 

Mattie, put a hand up and silenced the Thieves as Darius, the Councilor of the Assassin Guild, did the same, both of them knew in their ancient souls what they were looking at.

 

“You dare!”  Marcus started.

 

“We dare.”  Jim cut in, his voice the barely suppressed roar of a Dark Sentinel. 

 

The Dark Guide moved with the sensual grace of his calling.

 

“Your creed, is nothing but the diluted creed of the Dark Temple, and you dare to question me.”  He stepped forward, “Look at me and tell me what you see, Marcus of the Guild.”

 

The Guild leader for the first time looked, remembering the writing of the ancient chronicles, “You are them.”

 

The Dark Guide’s mouth twitched, “Then do you question us?”

 

“No.”

 

“Then let us begin.”

 

Then the fight started.  Ten Assassins began to move in on Gambit and Logan, and  began to die.

 

Logan’s attack was savage, if the assassins expected finesse they soon learned that all the elegance of the Assassins Guild was nothing when up against the raw power of a berserker.

 

Jim spoke in a low voice, “The Wolverine is the best at what he does, and what he does isn’t pretty.”  He put a hand to his face and wiped away a splatter of blood from the jugular of one of the Assassin’s.

 

Gambit fought with power and elegance, his agility was almost beautiful to watch, the Bo-staff almost a living extension of his hands. 

 

His energy was limited because of his injuries, and he made no effort to string the fight out.  He struck hard and fast, bring one crashing down with a blow to the legs, then a charged slash across the throat smashing the larynx. 

 

Twisting, he deflected a sword that was aimed at his neck; a twist of the Bo-staff and the blade was torn from the man’s hand, the follow through caving in his skull. 

 

Logan jumped over the slash of one of the swords, forward rolled, coming back to his feet, hands forward, taking the Assassin in the chest with all six claws, piercing up into the heart.  Then with a snarl he launched himself at three of them, smashing into their defensive circle, slashing, maiming, and killing.

 

Panting heavily he looked round to see his Guide put the last one down. Gambit was leaning on the Bo-staff; pain was flaring through his body.  Blood dripping from his mouth, he put a hand to wipe it away when Logan pounced, pushing Gambit aside.  He took the sword thrust to the body, then looking the Assassin in the eyes, pulled the man to him, running the sword even deeper into his body, until he was looking him in the eyes, then the man’s eyes bulged as Logan’s claws found his heart with one up thrust.  The Assassin fell to the floor as Logan went to his knees.  Gambit’s hand rested on Logan’s shoulder, “Logan?”

 

“Pull it out bud, now.”

 

Gritting his teeth Gambit pulled the blade clear of his Sentinel’s body.  Letting it fall to the ground, his arms went round the feral man, supporting him.

 

“Marcus,” Jean Luc asked, “is your honor satisfied?”

 

Marcus looked at the carnage, then at Logan. “He is not Assassin, he is an animal.”

 

“He is Wolverine.”  Jim’s voice cut across them.  It was then Jean Luc saw the fear in Marcus’s eyes.  He had never seen that before, he had no idea what Wolverine was, but the Assassin Guild leader did, and it caused sheer terror, he saw the way the other Assassins moved back, giving extra space.

 

His eyes fixed on Marcus, Logan lifted a blood stained hand and pushed back the black head band, his hand finding the pony tail, using that as a hold he pulled Gambit’s head down, and scented his Guide’s throat, for the first time in days reveling in his scent.

 

The yellow eyes narrowing as he detected that scent on some other people.  He looked up at Jean Luc, and scented him; it was his Guide’s scent, he growled aggressively, and then realized the scent, although similar, was different.  Family, no threat to his bond.

 

Logan suddenly threw his head back and roared Jim and Blair exchanged a look of satisfaction, the roar was ear splitting, but it was a direct challenge to anyone who tried to lay claim to Gambit, a challenge to the death for ownership of the Guide.

 

0-0-0-0

 

Henri whispered to his father, the five men that has beaten and assaulted Gambit were claiming right of combat.  They argued that since Gambit was under a death sentence, they had done nothing wrong.  Who were they to know the man was the lost son of their own Patriarch.  They would fight Gambit.  Seeing the exhausted young man they knew they could take him.

 

Jean Luc wasn’t happy, he didn’t want to risk his son, but he had to uphold the rules.

 

Blair stepped forward, “Sir, Sentinel and Guide are one, Gambit is Dark Guide, he is therefore of our family, as such, his place can be taken by another of his family” 

 

 “My name is James Ellison, Sentinel Prime of Cascade and the Northern Territories, through the Dark calling Gambit is my brother, and I therefore claim right of challenge.” 

 

Logan looked up at Jean Luc and grinned, blood stained his teeth, and the Patriarch didn’t want to think how he got that.  “I claim right of challenge as his Sentinel.”  He walked Gambit to the edge of the combat area and boosted him up.  Warren suddenly swooped down from the overhead beams, caught the Cajun, and swept him up before flaring and landing next to Blair, keeping his grip on the younger man’s waist to support him, he knew just how tired Gambit was.

 

Jim landed next to Logan; his hand went behind his back and came out with his sword.  Even as he landed Blair felt the change in him, it was the Primal Sentinel that now faced the Thieves.  The man was gone, what was left was the most primal of its kind, ready to administer the justice of the Sentinel clan.

 

The smaller Canadian looked at the Thieves, his voice a dull rumble, “ready to dance ladies?”  Then he charged.

 

0-0-0-0-0

 

Sanctuary Camp.

 

Blair finished putting up the tent and looked across the campsite at his fellow Guide.  Gambit, or rather Remy, was looking at it as if it was about to explode in his face.  With a soft chuckle Blair knelt down, “let me show you.”

 

Jim Ellison stood on the edge of the campsite and watched Logan smoking his cigar. “How you can smell anything round that is a mystery.”

 

“Easy when you know how.”  His lips twitched, “You’re not bad for a Ranger, it was good to fight by your side.”

 

“From Weapon X, I take that as a complement,” Jim put in with a smile.  He glanced back at Gambit, “I could not help but notice that you and Gambit,” he paused then added, “before we left LeBeau’s house, you bonded.” 

 

The Canadian didn’t answer, but his gaze softened when his eyes fell on his Guide.  As if acting to a cue, Gambit looked up, the connection between the two was humming. 

 

Jim could not help but notice the way that Blair was beaming.  He already knew about the bonding and heartily approved.

 

The two mutants had bonded the night of their fight with the Assassins and Thieves, now they had to establish the bond, and here under the stars away from outside interference was them best place for them to do that. 

 

Jim allowed his own throwback persona, the Dark Sentinel, to come forward, and when he looked at Blair he saw his Guide shudder under the heat of his look.  Walking back, he scooped up a blanket and sleeping bag, and in passing grabbed Blair by the scruff and dragged him into the dark; the need to bond was eating at him.

 

Logan poured out two big mugs of coffee.  He was bending down and handing one over to his Guide when he looked into his eyes, the black on red eyes flashed in the near dark, his emotions where his Guide was concerned had thrown him for a loop. 

 

He cocked his head to one side as he heard the Dark Pair bonding, Blair’s throaty groans and panting breath as he begged his Sentinel to take him, to bond with him.  Jim’s voice came to his ears, patient and understanding, but at the same time underlying it a need to bond.  Then with a roar his self-control was gone as he pounced on his Guide.  Then the thud of boots and clothing, as the Dark Guide craved the skin-to-skin contact of the darkest bond.

 

The need to bond began to ride Logan.  It was like an itch he could not scratch.  Blair’s words, his reaction to his Sentinel’s touch of mind and body, was only increasing his own need.  But he knew that it was still too early for Gambit to give himself fully to the darkest bond.

 

The cry of a wolf startled Gambit, Logan pinched out the glowing tip of his cigar , and pushed it into his top pocket, then bending caught Gambit’s hand and pulled him into the tent.

 

“No need to be frightened Gambit, I am here.”  He was inordinately pleased as Gambit moved into his arms, his face pressed to the flannel shirt.  Cooing softly the Canadian used his touch to calm his Guide.  Gambit was from the city streets, the mountains were alien to him, but with Logan here he felt safe.  Reaching into the pocket of his rucksack, Logan pulled out a battered book, and placed it gently into Gambit’s hand, “There you go kid.”

 

He watched Gambit lightly trace the cover with his finger tips, and then hug it close.  Logan hugged him, resting his cheek against the auburn hair, “Knew you hadn’t run, when I saw the book, I had to come after you, couldn’t lose you now.”

 

He felt Gambit return the hug, and for the first time in more years than he could remember felt a wave of contentment run through him. The younger man yawned and closed his eyes, his hand still clutching the book, against Logan’s chest, as the older man pulled the sleeping bag round them.

 

It was early the next morning when Logan woke, this eyes flying open as he registered that Gambit was no longer by his side.

 

Looking across the tent he saw his Guide seated away from him, his arms wrapped round his knees, rocking slowly, as he shivered in the early morning chill

 

“Remy?”  Logan liked to use his new name, it suited him.

 

Gambit turned his red eyes, giving him perfect vision. He was surprised to see the concern on Logan’s face as the older man asked, “What’s wrong?”

 

“I can feel Blair, they are bonding, and...” he trailed off.  “Why don’t y’ touch Remy like dat ?”  His face fell, “Gambit understands.”  There was such sadness in his voice that Logan could not ignore it, “it’s because of what they did in the cell.”  Gambit’s eyes swam with tears, “dhey took Gambit, forced Mon.”

 

“Kid, we bonded at the LeBeau house, your family home,” Logan put in; trying to make his Guide understand, make him remember.

 

“But y’ not touch Gambit, not like dat, like Blair.”

 

Logan chuckled, so that was the problem.  Gambit was feeling left out, as a Guide he could feel Blair’s bonding, and needed to be connected.

 

“Gambit” he reached his hand out, after a heartbeat the Cajun accepted it and allowed himself to be pulled back into the sleeping bag.  The Cajun’s breath hitched as he felt through the empathic link Logan’s emotions, the need that was riding him.

 

This time Logan moved onto his side, his arm acting as a pillow for Gambit as with his other he began to run his hands over his body, small touches, that would ignite the bond.  A touch that reassured him, calmed him, a touch he could trust would never turn abusive.  With a sigh Gambit reached up and pulled Logan down, his long legs hooking round the smaller man as he tried to climb into his very soul, as Sentinel and Guide gave themselves over to the darkest bond.

 

The two pairs linking on a circuit of the power of the darkest bond, running like a current between them, increasing the needs until finally they bonded at exactly the same moment in time, then exhausted they slept late in the day.

 

0-0-0-0-0

 

The Wolverine was hunting, his head moving back and forward trying to get the scent of his wayward guide, he paused, and his head snapped round his guides scent was on three of trees round him.

Gambit launched himself from the overhead branch, swinging round it like a gymnast on a bar, his feet hitting Logan hard in the back, pile driving the smaller man face first in the leaves.  Gambit was back on his feet, his bo-staff glowing and pressed to the back of his sentinel’s neck.

“Tag y’ it mon amie.”

Wolverine growled and then snarled at the sharp crack of energy against his neck

And Gambit disappeared into the wood again, with a bellow, Wolverine took after his wayward guide.

 

Blair laid back on the rock at the side of the river, and basked into the sun, putting a hand up to shield his eyes as a shadow loomed over him,

His lips pulling back into a smile as he heard the roar. “Who do you think will win this time.”

Jim shrugged “Does it matter Chief, Logan wins, or Gambit wins, they end up bonding, and everyone wins.”

 

He cocked his head as he opened his sense and took in his guide, “talking of bonding.”  Blair scrambled to his feet and began to back away as his Dark Sentinel stalked his prey he only got  six feet before he was caught and pulled down in the long grass, bonding under the afternoon sky..

 

When finally they packed their bags and came down from the mountains, it was two Dark Guides and two Dark Sentinels that left the sanctuary, their bonds in perfect harmony with each other.

 

0-0-0-0-0

 

Mission Firefly.

 

Scott Summers was in the Blackbird, watching the car thundering across the bridge, correction, the partly constructed bridge.  He could not believe what he was hearing on the radio traffic between Warren and Logan; the man could not be seriously considering what he thought he was hearing.

 

The plan was crazy, but Dr. Essex’s men were in close pursuit.  To make the leap the car had to be going 125 miles an hour, or so Warren had said when he had looked up from the computer screen, checking the proposed trajectory of the car and the Blackbird closing speed.

 

“Wolverine, this is Cyclops, what the hell are you doing?”

 

“One hundred and frigging twenty five I hope.”  At that he floored the accelerator and the car powered across the gap and into the cargo hold of the Blackbird.  It flipped over onto its roof and continued in a shower of sparks until it came to a halt, the wheels still spinning.

 

 Logan turned his head to look at his Guide. Gambit was hanging from his seat belt, one hand braced against the roof of the car. “Told you we would catch the plane, darling,” Logan drawled as he used his claws to cut through his own safety belt, then a slash and a kick and the door fell away.

 

Crawling out of the vehicle, he cut Gambit free of the belt, reaching in he dragged his Guide out of the mangled wreck. The Cajun still holding the briefcase they had just stolen.

 

Making a great play of brushing down his black duster and then straightening it, he looked Logan up and down. 

 

“Next time homme, y’ let Gambit do de drivin, oui y’ parkin stinks.”

 

He effortlessly ducked the hand that went to clip the back of his head, and with a laugh he was heading out of the cargo bay.

 

Cascade – Washington.

 

Captain Simon Banks watched his Sentinel and Guide pairing at work, and then looked at the young unbonded Sentinel near him, “you mean that Jim Ellison agreed to you working with him during your placement?”

”Yes sir.”

 

“Is there an R in the month?”

 

“Er no Sir,” the young Sentinel looked a little concerned, as if trying to work out if his Captain was feeling well.

 

“Then he must be mellowing McDonald.”

 

“Sir, he said that if I looked at Guide Sandburg the wrong way he would gouge my eyes out, and if I touched him, he would take my hands off at the wrists.”

 

“Yep, I’m right, he is mellowing.”  Simon’s lips twisted into a grin “Welcome to the Sandburg Zone, McDonald.”

 

The end.