Unlocked

A lone taxi cruised slowly through the tree-lined nighttime streets, with its headlights cutting a swath in the fine mist of rain and fog. The yellow and black car slid to a stop in front of an unassuming row of brown townhouses and after paying the fare, a male passenger climbed out of the back seat. The taxi drew away, and left the man standing on the wet sidewalk. He turned and stared up the dark face of one of the units. The gold lettering on the dark wood door told him that he'd found the right place.

He stood motionless for a moment longer, slipped a gloved hand into the pocket of his coat and fingered the small brass key he found there. For the hundredth time, he wondered if he was making the right decision. He wondered if he had really been wanted, or was the key a mixed message. With his heart pounding hard in his chest, he quietly ascended the four stone steps and slipped the key into the lock.

Gambit woke suddenly. Turning over in bed, he looked towards the closed French doors that led out to a small balcony. As a shudder of thunder growled in the distance, a splinter of bluish light cut the sky and illuminated the balcony. There was no figure lurking there, ready to make the biggest mistake of his life by breaking in on the irritated Cajun, and the rain, as far as he could see, hadn't picked up again. So that left one source of the noise that woke him.

Gambit snorted a breath through his nostrils and cast a quick glance at the red digital face of the clock on the nightstand.

Two a.m.

It's two in the morning. Why was the shower's running? He wondered.

Only one other person knew where his hideout from Magneto was located.

Or well… at least he hoped Magneto didn't know where he was.

"Well, le's jus' see who came a'knockin'," he muttered, slipping from beneath the covers.

Having slept without a stitch on, he snagged his pajama bottoms from where he'd tossed them across the foot-board and effortlessly wriggled into them on his way through the dark bedroom. His fully telescoped staff sat atop the bureau. But deciding that it had been too long since he took down someone with his bare hands, he bypassed the weapon and left the bedroom.

Moving as quietly as the thief in him could, he padded down the hallway to the bath at its end. He didn't see any light coming from beneath the door, so whoever was in there, hadn't bothered to turn on the light and was taking a moonlit shower.

Gambit eased up to the outside of the closed door. He froze just as he heard the water turning off, the rustling of a towel being pulled down from the rack and then the squish of feet walking across an obviously soaked bathroom rug.

He held his breath, and poised to attack, he waited for the door to open.

When it did, he pounced.

Gambit grabbed hold of nearly dry shoulders and with a mighty heave he threw the man bodily down the hall. Completely taken by surprise, the shadowed figure squawked in shock, lost his footing and fell gracelessly into a sliding heap. The naked skin of his chest and stomach squeaked almost comically against the bare hardwood floor as he came to an abrupt stop.

"Christ!" he yelled indignantly and immediately pushed himself to his hands and knees.

He groped for his long lost towel, only to be immediately crushed flat to the floor by Gambit's solid weight upon his back.

Gambit knelt astride him. He curled one arm beneath the intruder's chin, trapped his throat in the bend of his elbow and with a bruising force, he wrenched him backwards, arching the man’s body into a helpless position. He could hear his fingernails scrabbling desperately against the floor trying to find purchase in order not to slowly suffocate in his iron grip.

Straining to keep the struggling man still, Gambit rested his weight on one knee and brought his foot up to rest on the floor for balance. He leaned down a little and said into the man's ear,

"I can turn y'body into a worthless sack 'a bones, by breakin' y'neck, homme. Want me ta snap it?"

The body in his arms suddenly went stiff.

"Nu uh!" the man rasped quietly.

"Good choice," he murmured with satisfaction.

Gambit let him go and immediately the man turned over.

"Whatcha doin' 'ere, Pyro?" he asked calmly, letting his hand rest on the man's heaving chest.

A throaty chuckle preceded the confession.

"Got lonely, mate. Came to see ya."

Gambit let a smile tug at the corners of his mouth.

"If I hadda known you'd act like this, well… I'da grabbed a long neck and ed aed at Magneto's."

Gambit shook his head, now smiling rather expectantly as he ruffled his lover's unruly orange, blond and red hair.

"Nex' time, let Gambit know you wan' ta come along. Gambit got no problem wit it."

Pyro pushed himself upright and between Gambit's spread knees.

"I'll remember that," he murmured, reaching a hand up to close about the nape of the other man's neck.