The Way The Dice Falls

Wolverine looked around the X-Men mansion undecidedly, letting his eyes trail down the long corridor. He sighed in exasperation - he was going to have to face it sometime. Face up to the dreary reality of the fact that he had absolutely nothing to do - he was bored.

Silence, stillness, absolute calm - it filled the world around him - soothing, beautiful and frustratingly annoying. He had always been a man of action and this lethargic, ceaseless nothingness was driving him insane.

Had all the super villains taken a brake? Was there some kind of Evil villain holiday no one had told him about? Couldn't someone try to take over the world so that he could have something to do? Something to practise his skills upon.

He was growing soft - he knew it and he didn't like it. This forced lethargy was affecting his abilities more than he liked to admit. He had to stay sharp, keep his senses keen and he knew exactly how to do it...He would hunt! A smile started to form on his lips at the thought. Yes, he would hunt. But who? Who would be his prey?

Wolverine stalked down the corridor, the grace of a hunter apparent in his movements, his keen gaze searching; looking for a prey that was worthy of his time and skill. The predatory gleam in his eye enough to make a grown man tremble in fear.

He entered the kitchen, quickly and silently, his eyes searching through the room. It was not long before he spotted Bobby Drake - the resident Iceman - he was bent forward, his face and arms hidden by the refrigerator door as he scavenged for food.

Would Iceman be a worthy prey? His eyes trailed over the part of Bobby that he could see. There was no denying it - this prey was cute - it had its possibilities. From the view that Iceman presented him with Logan could just believe that the man would be less cold than his name implied.

He imagined what it would be like - hunting Bobby, but no. He was looking for a more challenging prey. Iceman would be far to easily caught and tamed. He was looking for a more satisfying hunt.

Bobby stood up and his gaze fell on Logan, a bagel clamped between his teeth and his hands filled with his findings. He was just about to say something, trying to form words around the large piece of bread in his mouth, when Logan left - continuing his search for the perfect prey.

The corridor stretched before him again - empty and devoid of any activity - like his life he thought wryly. Voices coming from the direction of Xavier's office caught his attention as it drifted towards him, echoing hollowly off the walls.

He moved towards the sounds and stopped in front of the door, listening intently. Three voices assaulted his enhanced senses - the Professor was in there and Jean... and Scott. His mind turned to the one called Cyclops - their ever so perfect leader. It would be very interesting to see him on his knees, begging for release - completely at Logan's mercy.

Wolverine grinned predatorily - it could be very entertaining. It could be, but Jean would never approve. She would not like it if he were to hunt her husband. Now that was an understatement. He shook his head - Xavier then... No, the telepath would know his mind before he could even get close. The prey here would not do - it was time to continue his search.

Once again he glanced down the hallway, looking in both directions trying to decide which way to go. The rec room he decided at last - mayhap he would find better prey there...

More voices assaulted his hearing - these were razed in anger. He could clearly hear all that was being said and immediately recognized the voices of two of the females of the X-Men squad - Storm and Rogue.

Their argument grew steadily louder as he approached the rec room - something about Storm making it rain on Rogue every time se left the manor. Storm had not yet forgiven Rogue for abandoning Remy to the frozen wastes of Antarctica.

He entered the rec room to find that the two women were standing across the room from each other, shouting. A slack-jawed Joseph sat staring at the two from his seat against the wall.

Logan looked at the two women, considering - he was surprised their argument had not yet resulted in blows - before looking Joseph over. He shook his head - the man didn't even notice him... No, there was no challenging prey to be found in the rec room.

He turned around and exited the room, well aware that the trio had not even noticed that he had been there. He wondered down the corridor a while longer - not going anywhere in particular, his sharp ears picking out all the sounds of everyday life in the manor. A draft of cold air brought him out of his mindless wonderings; a particular sent filling his nostrils as he breathed the cool air.

The front door slammed shut a little way from where he stood and he noticed that his wonderings had brought him quite close to the entrance hall. The smell of lightly applied French cologne mixed with the distinctive scent of the one who wore it played riot with his senses and the roar of a Harley outside made him smile slightly.

Yes, he had found the one - his prey was close and soon he would be within Logan's grasp. His grin turned feral. Yes! This was going to be fun... it was time to let the hunt begin. It was time to hunt Cajun...

His smile deepened - Remy LeBleau would make for an interesting prey. The man was a thief - gifted in the ways of escaping unseen - he knew the shadows well. Logan reached into his pocket and drew a cigar and his lighter from it, bringing it to his lips and lighting it.

He puffed on it for a while before exhaling, considering his next move. As hunter he had to learn to know his prey. He would have to track Remy - see where the shadows took the Cajun. See what he did and who he did it with, before he closed in for the kill.

Patience, Logan, he thought to himself. He'll be yours soon enough and stalking him will be half the fun. Logan's lips twitched upwards - he was good at stalking. He wondered how good Remy would be at being stalked...


Logan watched Remy from where he stood in the shadows of the large warehouse, his eyes never leaving the lean form of the thief. It had been more than a week since Wolverine had decided to hunt Gambit and time was drawing near for him to end the chase. He was growing impatient - it was almost time; time to reveal the identity of Remy's tormentor; time to claims his prize.

He had enjoyed playing with the Cajun - it was highly entertaining watching him jump and cringe. It was something he had never attempted before - making sure that his prey was afraid of his own shadow - he usually preferred remaining hidden until the moment he closed in for the kill. He enjoyed seeing the shock in their eyes turn to fear as they realised they were caught. But Remy had not allowed him that luxury - the Cajun thief knew he was there from the start. He knew he was being followed, being watched... He was anticipating Logan's attack.

Wolverine could see that anticipation - Remy knew his time was running out - he could see it in the way the Cajun stood, the way he held his shoulders, the way he would tilt his head to the side as if he were listening to something. Even the way he walked betrayed him - alert and on edge. Yes, Remy knew an attack was coming, but he didn't know when or from where it would come.

Logan could surprise the Cajun yet - he could still see the shock turn to fear if he played his cards right. It wouldn't be easy though - catching Gambit off guard - the Cajun was careful and wary under normal circumstances, now that he was aware of being followed he was even more so. Logan's mouth curved upwards in a slight smile - he had been right - Gambit did make for interesting prey.

Remy's watchfulness kept Wolverine on his toes - bringing a new kind of thrill to the game. It was not often that the hunter became the hunted, but Remy had nearly caught him on several occasions - using methods only a thief would think of considering.

The Cajun knew every trick in the book and the only thing that had saved Logan from disaster and the abrupt end of his hunt till thus far was his enhanced senses and inborn agility, but even those weren't infallible - his luck would eventually run out. Another reason to end this soon - perhaps even this very night.

His smile deepened as his eyes trailed lazily over the Cajun's lean form. Remy was dressed as he usually did - his long trench coat flaring out behind him as he walked, his legs covered in close-fitting, but comfortable black pants. Small red-lensed sunglasses hid his unnervingly fiery gaze from sight - Logan's mind invariably brought an image of Scott's ruby quarts eyewear to mind and he wondered if that was were Remy had gotten the idea. The sunglasses were a new addition to his wardrobe.

It struck Logan as odd that the Cajun would try to conceal his peculiar gaze - they were one of the thief's most enticing features, in his opinion - something to flaunt, not hide away. Wolverine's smile turned feral - he'd teach Remy a lesson about hiding the fire that danced in the glowing coals of his orbs. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation, warming them slightly. Yes, he would teach the Cajun a lesson - he wished to see Remy's feelings and the thief's eyes never withheld anything, baring an impossible range of emotion to the world in those smouldering coals; even when Remy's face remained passive.

Logan shook himself, pressing his hands deeply into his jacket pockets as he sighed dejectedly, silently wondering when the Cajun had stopped being his prey and had simply become Remy. Slowly he levered himself up from where he had been leaning against the shadowy wall and slipped after the thief - keeping to the dark places, making sure that he was neither spotted nor heard.

Wolverine followed Remy for some time, stopping when the Cajun stopped and slipping more deeply into the shadows. He had played this game with the thief before, letting his boots echo on the pavement, slipping away as quietly as he could if the Cajun stopped, starting his endless reverberating footsteps again when Remy did, making sure the thief knew he was still there, but not tonight.

Tonight he had decided to let off playing his cat and mouse game - driving the thief crazy with the lack of the sounds of his stalker. He wasn't surprised when Remy spun round, his one hand hidden in the recesses of his trench coat - the Cajun had noticed the absence quite keenly as Logan had known he would. Gambit stood still for a while, staring at the shadows - his gaze falling uncomfortably close to Logan's hiding place, before pulling his coat more tightly around him and continuing on his way.

Logan smiled at Remy's discomfort as he slunk out of the shadows, avoiding the pool of golden light created by the streetlamp; remaining in the semi-darkness of the edge, after having seen the thief turn the corner. Moving with long strides he followed where the Cajun led, coming around the corner just in time to see Gambit approach a shadowy building; it seemed as if a small warehouse had been converted into something - perhaps a nightclub of some kind, considering that the Cajun seemed to frequent such places often.

A small frown played across Wolverine's brow - Remy had not visited this place in the time that he had been following the thief. He wondered what had caused the Cajun to alter his routine. This sudden change would make his job more difficult. Logan smiled at the challenge as he started to get his thoughts together - sensing the beginnings of a plan.

Totally unseen and as silently as humanly possible he edged around the building he had watched Gambit enter, his eyes darting from shadow to shadow as he searched for the back door - letting it fall into place in his half-formed plan after he spotted it. He noted its location, automatically calculating where it would be in relativity to the interior.

He leaned back against the wall of another warehouse as he glanced up the alley, back towards the street and entrance of the building. His fingers fumbled in his coat pocket for a cigar and his lighter, finally finding one and lighting it after he had brought it to his lips.

Time dragged on as he smoked his cigar, exhaling the smoke into the confined space between the warehouses, his thoughts inside the building as he stared at the back door. He knocked some ash away from the tip of the cigar with his index finger before inhaling another long draft of smoke - his patience was wearing thin; he wanted the Cajun badly; he was growing tired of wondering what Remy was up to.

He glanced at his watch, before letting the cigar fall to the pavement and crushing it beneath a booted foot - enough time had passed - it was time to resume the hunt. It would not look suspicious if Remy were to spot him when he entered the place - the Cajun would not suspect anything - he would be save...

Logan was torn - a part of him wanted Remy to discover him; dreaded the possibility, but wanted it; the other and larger part of him wanted to continue his game, it was very enjoyable - playing with the Cajun; he wished to complete the hunt.

Determined that Gambit would not escape him he headed towards the main entrance again, hoping that the bouncer would not give him to much trouble. If he did Logan would have to use his outstanding skills of persuasion... Wolverine cracked his knuckles in anticipation; he hadn't sunk his claws into anything recently - they seemed to be screaming for a field trip.

To his disappointment the guard at the door didn't seem at all inclined to stop him, letting Logan pass him with nothing more than a curt nod. Wolverine ducked through the entranceway and stood staring - it was not at all what he had expected...

He had been stalking the Cajun for some time, but never had he watched the thief enter a place like this. Remy seemed to prefer the outrageously loud nightclubs - often dancing the night away and heading home every night with a different girl he had just met, never seeming to return to the mansion till late morning or early afternoon. Remy was a player and it was a role the charming thief could play to perfection.

As his eyes trailed over the room before him he decided that this place seemed to suite the Cajun better than the others he had frequented - it showed a different side of the thief. A different side that wasn't that different at all - Remy could be a player here too - a player of another game...

Logan was standing on a slightly raised platform that gave him a good view of the main room, enabling him to clearly see everything that transpired on the lower floor. Making it possible for the onlooker to decide where he was headed before he descended the steps.

With darting glances Wolverine searched for Gambit on the lower floor, his eyes travelling quickly over the myriad of circular tables that were spaced throughout the room. Men of all shapes and sizes stood gambling - littered about the room, playing everything from cards to roulette - remaining in one place only as long as their luck held.

A slight smile crossed his features as he finally spotted Remy - the Cajun was just sitting down at a round table with two men - one dark-haired, one blonde - making ready to start a game of cards.

Another staircase led upwards from the dais, leading to the gallery that circled around the room - making it possible to see the players from above. An old French stylised bar could clearly be seen from the bottom of the stairs and Logan decided that he might as well get a drink if he was going to use the vantage point of the gallery to his advantage.

Wolverine ascended the stairs - he knew Gambit wouldn't notice him - he was to wrapped up in the game he was playing and the place was to dim to be able to discern individual facial characteristics from some distance. He wouldn't have been able to recognise the Cajun from this distance if it weren't for his heightened senses and the fact that the greatest light fell on the gambling tables, coming from old-fashioned oil lamps that now held dim electric light bulbs - adding to the atmosphere, which was that of an old New Orleans tavern. Someone had put much love and care into creating the small establishment, paying a lot of attention to detail.

Logan finally reached the top and leaned over the railing slightly, unobtrusively making sure were Remy was in relativity to his new position before he headed to the bar and ordered a drink. His thoughts turned back to the Cajun as he waited for the bartender to fetch it, eyeing a small table near the railing that was hidden in shadow. From there he would be able to observe Remy closely without being seen - he'd also be able to keep a close watch upon the stairs and though his back wouldn't be against the wall, the way he preferred, the view would more than make up for it.

Logan felt a nudge at his elbow, pulling him from his thoughts - the barman had returned. He crushed his irritation as he took the drink, before he headed towards the table and glanced over the railing to look at Remy before he sat down, satisfying his curiosity as to the Cajun's position.

His eyes sought Gambit out on the lower floor again from his sitting position - watching the Cajun, studying him. He became enamoured in the game the thief was playing, watching him shuffle the cards with practised ease, following Remy's hands closely - they became the focal point of his scrutiny. It was no surprise then when he noticed the tables turn in Gambit's favour. The thief was winning nearly every round and something about it bothered him...

His gaze followed Remy's hands again as they slid over the cards, dealing from the bottom of the pack. And then it struck him, he knew what was wrong - Remy was cheating...

Logan grinned - once a thief, always a thief, but this revelation opened new doors of possibility - he would have to think on how he could use this knowledge in his favour. He continued watching the game a while longer, noting that the blonde stranger had fallen out, his cards folded on the table before him; his lack of gambling-chips signalling his obvious defeat.

Finally, the defeated man stood up from the table; a bout of laughter from the two remaining occupants making it obvious that he must have made some joke about being the loser. His hand lingered slightly longer than necessary on his dark-haired friend's shoulder before he leaned over, saying something as he breathed intimately into the man's neck. He then left the table completely, heading towards the stairway that led upwards to the bar - obviously coming to collect drinks for the group.

Logan grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief and anticipation as his gaze followed the blonde-haired one - the pieces of his half-formed plan starting to come together in a sinister corner of his mind...


Remy smiled as the blonde-haired stranger left the table to go fetch some drinks, before he fixed his fiery gaze - effectively hidden by red-lensed sunglasses - on his dark-haired opponent again.

"Care to continue, mon ami?" he asked, starting to shuffle the cards again before the man could answer. He already knew what the answer would be... the stranger still believed that he had a chance - Remy's smile deepened when the man waved his hand in acknowledgement, indicating that he should continue. A fool was born every five minutes and these two didn't suspect a thing...

Gambit inclined his head slightly, indicating that he understood and began to deal the cards again, acutely aware of every card that left his hand, even more acutely aware of the figurative ace he had up his sleeve.

He knew that he could probably have beaten his adversaries playing straight, but Remy lived for the thrill, for the fire - the knowledge that he could be caught; that he might not draw his hand away from the flames unscathed. It was the reason he played, the reason he lived - the fire drove him, it made him who he was.

But he wouldn't be caught this time - he knew it - these two had never seen a true mechanic at work - they didn't suspect a thing. Remy knew he was being careless - pulling stunts he never would have dared try if he had been in more experienced company, but these two were innocents. They were just looking for a quick game - nothing serious. To bad they had to meet a serious player on their first night out... Remy almost felt sorry for them, but that wouldn't stop him from taking their money - all's fair in love and war...

Gambit relaxed into his seat - it felt good to be playing again - he hadn't done it in a while. He'd forgotten how exciting it could be, how invigorating - he had played straight in the beginning; the first few rounds had been quite legitimate, as he tested their skill, but after discovering their 'virginity' he had started taking chances - started playing with fire, enticing it to burn...

It took his mind of everything - made him forget about the eyes that watched his every move - even here he could feel them - but that might just be his paranoia rearing its ugly head. Remy knew this particular kind of fear well, he'd used it to his advantage before - it kept him on his toes and that kept him alive.

Still the expectantly watchful gaze disturbed the thief - he liked the shadows; to be able to disappear into them unseen and unnoticed - this constant surveillance disturbed him. It disturbed him so much, in fact, that the lack thereof made him even more apprehensive - what was his stalker playing at and what were the rules of the game?

The fifth and final card finally left his hand, landing before his opponent; neatly on top of the other four he had already dealt him. Gambit drew his attention away from their errant pathways and tried to focus on the game - it would not do for him to lose this round due to gross negligence when he had everything going for him. At least this was a game where the rules never changed he thought dourly - there was no way he'd lose as long as his mind did not stray.

He set the deck of cards down beside him - letting his fingers trace lightly over the pattern on the back before he picked up his own cards, carefully keeping his face passive as he studied them even though he had to fight the urge to smile.

He folded the cards into a pile in his hands and studied the dark-haired man that sat opposite him, carefully judging his expression and reaction to what fate had dealt him. Remy fought the urge to smile again - fate had nothing to do with this game... it was a skill, not a game of chance - to truly outplay someone you needed to understand human reactions, you needed to see what was hidden - what the shadows concealed from every person in the room, except those who watched and waited to see what could and could not be.

Gambit caught movement out of the corner of his eye and turned his head slightly to watch his adversary's blonde-haired friend approach the table as the dark-haired man glanced over his shoulder to see what Remy was looking at.

A smile played across his opponent's features as he saw his friend nearing them. The Cajun only shook his head and smiled at the two men's obvious infatuation with each other, waiting for the game to continue. The opening bet had not yet been made and it was not his turn.

Instead of returning to his own troubled thoughts he blindly cast about in his mind, trying to remember the names the other two players had given him and he silently cursed himself when he realised that it was a lost cause - he simply couldn't remember.

Remy did smile at the returned man as he approached, but he only got an angry glare in return; he wondered what was wrong, but dismissed it as he watched the blonde-haired man lean over his companion's shoulder and whisper something in his ear.

The intimacy of the gesture struck him again in ways he didn't think possible - he realised he craved it and he craved something more too. Something that Rogue was unwilling to give him, something that his one-night stands never could. Something that he would never admit he needed.

His thoughts turned back to the present as he watched the couple, noting that the dark-haired man's eyes had widened in shock - silently observing as the emotion was quickly replaced by something else - something Remy didn't like the look of at all - rage.

The hateful glare he fixed the Cajun with was nothing short of frightening and when the thief turned to glance at the man's partner the look the blonde-haired one shot him was no better. Remy looked from one to the other questioningly before asking the dark-haired man tentatively, "Is something wrong, mon ami?"

His thoughts desperately tried to make sense of this - what could possibly have upset these two so badly? He unconsciously held his breath, waiting for a reply - wanting to see if there was anything he could do to soothe their antagonistic feelings towards him.

And then it came; an anger-filled hiss that stung more badly than it would have, had the man shouted. "You're the bloody cheat, you tell me!" Remy expelled his breath in a gasp of surprise and shock - they had found him out.

He stared at the world suddenly inexplicably changed - he was caught... he could almost see the flames dancing around him, consuming him and for a moment he thought he did. His mind refused to make sense of it - he had always known he would be caught eventually, but deep down he had never thought it truly possible.

But the fire was burning him - it was to late to pull his hand back; the damage was done. But it seemed so anti-climatic that it would be these two who caught Gambit in the act. It seemed quite impossible - they must have had some help. But who? The Cajun's eyes turned upwards, towards the balcony, blindly searching.

Was it his stalker? Was he here? Were the eyes still upon him? He shook his head in negation. No, Remy's being paranoid again, he thought dryly. The thief shook his head again - they had caught him fair and square and he was going to have to face up to the fact that Gambit had been found out by a pair of amateurs with no knowledge at all about the finer points of the game.

It stung, but he was going to have to let it slide over his ego, along with the rest - he snorted mentally, if he let much more affect his ego he wouldn't have one left at all. It had hurt when Rogue had abandoned him to the ice, but it had hurt even more because he felt he deserved it. He could live with Rogue's hatred of him, but his own was another matter.

He focussed his attention on his accuser again and slowly felt the beginning of the old anger - anger at himself, but the dark-haired stranger was as good a target as any - and it provided him with a way out. He mulled his escape route over in his mind before he stood, putting all of his cards down on the table - all but one.

He looked down at the accusing glare of his challenger, smiling ironically as he played with the card between his fingers. Passing it over and under, from finger to finger, underneath and over; feeling it warm slightly to his touch.

"Remy does apologize, mon ami, but you seem to have caught him at a loose end." The ironic smile deepened as the world seemed to slow down - it was almost fitting. Entranced he watched as the card left his hand, spinning and turning slightly in its flight as it was tossed into the air with a magnificent arch, coming down sharply to fall in the centre of the round table as he made his escape.

He raced towards the back door, dodging around frantic people who were desperately trying to reach the main entrance. The explosion caused by his gaming antics hadn't been a particularly large one, but the explosive missile was causing more than enough commotion to cover his tracks - as he had hoped. He shook his head as he ran - people were so predictable - you just cause a little confusion and next thing you know everyone is dashing towards the door.

He smiled to himself - they'll probably be telling anyone who would listen about how the entire building exploded and how they barely escaped with their lives - not to mention some of their opponent's chips - come morning.

No one noticed the lone figure of the Cajun as he headed in the opposite direction than the general press of bodies - they were all to busy trying to escape the possible danger of another explosion.

He ran down a dark corridor, knowing that he was headed in the right direction; he'd made sure where the back door was even before he'd considered sitting down to a game. You never knew when you'd have to leave in a hurry and strike out in an unexpected direction.

He turned down another corridor and saw the outline of the back door in the darkness - someone had forgotten to shut it properly and light from the outside shone invitingly through the tiny crack that stood open at the bottom and side. Remy stood there, simply watching the door, considering, but his need to escape the building proved stronger than his caution. He had to get away before those two even started to put the pieces of what had happened together. Throwing caution to the wind entirely he headed towards the door and had gone through it within the span of a heartbeat.

He stood there for a while letting the cool night air calm the furious beating of his heart, catching his breath and simply thinking about what had happened - his mind twisting and turning around the stark reality of what he was unwilling to accept. He could still see the fire leaping in his mind's eye, smell the smoke, taste the ash - it was a bitter realization - he'd been caught by a couple of novices, leaving another scar upon the remains of his pride.

He glanced down at his hands, idly wondering if he would see the burn marks - there was nothing. It was just an image, a vision. Remy was so caught up in the visions of his mind's eye that he didn't notice the dark figure sneaking up on him from behind until it was to late.

A strong arm encircled his waist, pulling him back into a warm body and effectively trapping his arms as another arm went around his shoulders; a large hand pressing a foul-smelling, bitter-tasting cloth tightly over his mouth and nose.

He struggled against the arms, refusing to breath the vapours of what he had immediately recognised as morphine. But he would not be able to hold his breath forever, he knew it and so did his captor.

Remy's struggles increased in intensity, but the one who imprisoned him was strong and quick, kicking the Cajun's legs wide apart so that it would be impossible for the thief to gain the leverage he would need to throw him.

Gambit felt himself weakening - his air supply was running out quickly and his lungs were starting to burn from lack of oxygen. He was becoming light-headed and he opened his mouth to take a large, gulping breath of morphine filled air.

The world spun - it was a powerful narcotic, he felt consciousness ebbing away and along with it went the will to fight - to resist. He sagged backwards into the strong arms that were holding him as the darkness claimed him. His last thoughts were mere wonderings as to what the future held.


Remy came to wakefulness slowly, becoming aware of his surroundings as the cobwebs cleared from his head. He groaned as his mind was duly informed of every complaint of his aching body - the ceaseless pounding in his head making him clench his closed eyes even more tightly shut.

A cold draft caressed the side of his face as he stared at the warm darkness behind his eyelids, wondering silently what had befallen him. Gambit shook his head and immediately regretted it as his thoughts spun into chaos again.

Seconds grew to minutes and minutes into hours all in the span of a single moment as he fought for control - riding out the wave of chaos and nausea. Cold wind blew against his exposed chest, playing across the muscles as he shivered slightly - the familiar sensation clearing his mind somewhat and bringing him back to reality. Back to staring at the warm darkness behind his eyelids, afraid to open them, afraid of what he might find.

The part of his mind that still retained some sense through the pain-filled haze of his being chided him. Cursing at his irrationality - he would have to open his eyes sooner or later. Better sooner than later he agreed grudgingly and slowly did so.

The world spun before him, the light seeming far to bright as everything in the large room defied gravity, making his stomach churn in response. He shut his eyes again and leaned back against the wall his captor had bound him to, his wrists pulling slightly against the handcuffs that kept his hands confined high above his head - tied to an exposed pipe.

He sighed, staring at the warm darkness again - waiting for the world to come to a standstill; wondering where he was. He hadn't seen much and the merciless spinning had kept him from taking in what he should have, but he had seen enough.

He was in a warehouse of some kind; he could easily have passed this very place on his way to the tavern, but that didn't tell him much - he could be anywhere. He shook his head slowly from side to side and strained slightly against his bonds, finding them frustratingly immobile.

"A fine mess Remy's in," he muttered under his breath - his voice sounding uncannily loud to his own ears as it echoed off the walls of the large open area surrounding him. Slowly, as not to disturb the normal gravitational position of everything in the room, he pried his eyelids open again and sighed in relief.

At least the inanimate objects in the room had lost the will of their own and were remaining stationary. He blinked, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light before surveying the room more closely. It was not as large as he had originally thought; open boxes piled high in a corner informed him that it had once been used as a storeroom, but the desolate state of everything showed that it had been abandoned long ago. Deserted, empty, no one would even know that he was here - no one, but his captor.

Cold wind played across his form again, teasing a stray lock of auburn hair that fell over his eyes, making him shiver. It also served to draw his attention to the high window he had not previously noticed. He tilted his head slightly upwards and to the side so that he could stare out of it and felt the beginnings of a smile tug at the corner of his mouth as he watched the full moon rise higher - it seemed such a cliché - the tethered prisoner watching the moon rise through the barred window of his cell. Remy shook his head in disgust, shattering his amusement - his situation was far to serious for such light-heartedness.

Still he stared at the moon, his thoughts rising alongside it as he frantically thought of ways to escape before his captor returned - each new idea growing more farfetched than the last. He shook his head again, ridding himself of the useless thoughts, before starting to pay attention to his bonds.

The handcuffs revealed no weaknesses as he lightly flexed his muscles, pulling against them. His gaze went upwards to look at the pipe - travelling over the chain towards the place where pipe met wall - nothing. But anything with a lock had a weakness and these cuffs could be no different.

Remy's scrutiny was brought to an abrupt end as he heard the sharp clicking of boots on the metal stairway - someone was coming. His thoughts started spinning frantically as he furiously strained against the bonds - one thought completely and irrationally filling his mind, overpowering all other consideration - he had to get away.

The footsteps paused on the steps before continuing - bearing his stalker closer with each resounding movement. He had recognised the measured tread immediately as that of the one who had followed him for more than a week now and it sent a cold chill running down his spine - he was in his stalker's territory now.

As long as the hunter had been following Remy, he had had room to manoeuvre - room to escape as he led his captor through his own territory, but now the game had changed - now he was literally caught in a figurative checkmate. He could not win, no move he made would save him - he was powerless. Acceptance did not come with this realization, but resistance did flare up - Remy did not enjoy being played with.

Gambit glanced up at the handcuffs again, briefly considering converting the potential energy into kinetic energy, but that would be folly, to say the least - even though the explosion would sever the bonds the personal injury was to great a risk - he would like to keep his hands firmly attached to his body.

The sound of the approaching footsteps echoed through the room - sounding unnaturally loud to his apprehensive mind. His eyes focussed on the metal stairway across the room as he waited, briefly wondering where his shirt and trench coat where as the cold draft of air played across his naked chest again.

Strange that such a little thing would steal his attention away from the gravity of his situation, but not for long - the footsteps were coming steadily nearer. He gazed at the stairs with mixed dread and anticipation, watching as a dark, somewhat familiar figure moved out of the shadows.

Recognition struck and with it came relief, it was Logan; he had nothing to fear from the X-Man, or so he thought. "Logan!" It was a cry of relief, but relief soon turned to alarm when Wolverine stepped into the light and the Cajun saw the expression on his face.

"Logan?" Remy hoped that his voice sounded steadier to the other X-Man than it did to him. Logan just grinned - his smile making Remy uneasy - the rules of the game had changed again and he did not know what to expect.

Wolverine had pressed his hands deeply into the pockets of his pants and was studying him possessively, his eyes trailing up the length of Remy's body admiringly. Gambit gulped - the action making his Adam's apple bob - he didn't at all like the way Logan was looking at him.

He was jostled from his apprehensive thoughts when the hunter spoke - for that's what Logan was, he realised - his stalker, the hunter, with him the unlucky prey - the captive prey. "Well, well, well, what do we have here?"

Remy glared at him, Wolverine knew exactly what was going on here - Wolverine knew and Gambit wasn't going to play anymore - he'd had enough of this game. Anger blazed, turning coals into fire as he glared down at the shorter man.

He lunged forward, pulling the chains that bound him to the pipe taunt and decided to leave with the pleasantries. "Let Remy go and he'll show you." He hissed through clenched teeth, letting his anger clearly show.

Logan's grin deepened as he shook his head, pulling a hand out of his pocket to wag a finger at him. "Tsk, tsk, tsk, Remy, temper, temper. I wouldn't be making threats if I were in your position." Wolverine was enjoying this, Gambit could see it in his eyes, but Logan did have a point - Remy was helpless.

The Cajun could feel the fire start to burn again - passion, rage - the other X-Man's obvious delight in his vulnerability only served to fuel the flames as he continued to glare at the man. Logan's smirk infuriated him, but anger would not help him - he needed to be calm, detached. He needed to remove himself from the situation in order to think, to plan - he had to escape. But how?

Remy was helpless and Wolverine had thought of everything - there was no way out - no escape, except if his captor took mercy and Remy would not beg - what remained of his pride wouldn't allow it. Defiance blazed in his eyes - he wouldn't be forced to his knees - not by Wolverine, not by anyone.

Logan must have seen the change in his demeanour, because he stopped smirking, curiosity replacing the look in his eyes - curiosity and something else, something that had been there all along - lust...

Remy gulped - that couldn't be right - Logan couldn't have done all this, because of that... Wolverine couldn't want him. But Gambit knew desire - he knew it well - and he knew that it was desire's fault that he was handcuffed to a pipe - Logan's desire.

Remy shuddered - partly from the cold and partly from his insight. He knew this game - he had played it often, with men and women alike. He was no innocent to the ways of lust and Wolverine lusted after him - he could see it - but more importantly, Logan was not going to be denied what he wanted. Remy would bow to the other's lust willingly or he would be forced to bow - there was no other way out. The game had begun, the pieces were in play and there was no turning back.

Still rebellion forced its way to the surface, rebellion and the stubborn will of the individual - he would not bow. Remy let his mouth twist into a mocking smile and stood up straight, loosening the strain on his wrists from the chains and letting his eyes trail over Logan deprecatingly.

"No? Remy thinks he's in exactly the right place to make threats. He's not the one who has to tie his partner to a wall to get some." Gambit knew he had gone to far the moment the words left his mouth; he watched as anger blazed in Wolverine's hazel gaze, turning his irises dark so that his eyes seemed black instead of brown.

Remy saw the world visibly slow as Logan raised the fist of his free hand, the other hand remaining in his pocket, as two of the three blazes slid out from between the knuckles of his raised fist, agonizingly slow. Gambit gazed on in horror as the blade plummeted towards him just as slowly.

His eyes fell shut - Logan was going to kill him - cold air rushed passed him, whistling in his ears, and a loud thud made his eyes fly open again. Wolverine's face was inches away from his own, his fiery gaze meeting midway with the brown orbs of his captor. He glanced downwards, not daring to meet the hazel gaze and saw that Logan's fist was uncomfortably close to his neck - one blade deeply imbedded on either side of his throat. As he watched the third and middle blade slid out, forcing him to lift his head to look Wolverine in the eye again or be impaled.

"I'd watch my tongue if I were you, Cajun, or you might lose it." Remy gulped, making him feel the blades coldly press against his skin, as he looked Logan in the eye. Wolverine's orbs sparkled, turning dark with amusement at the thief's discomfort and the hand that had been in his pocket somehow found its way to Remy's hip - lightly resting there, just above the Cajun's pants.

Gambit became uneasy - Logan had every intention of going through with this - he felt his body stiffen under Wolverine's touch. He had known the X-Man's intentions, but in some small corner of his mind he had hoped... and Logan was quickly shattering that hope.

A wolfish grin spread across his captor's features at Remy's reaction and a small chuckle escaped him. "Afraid, Remy? All big talk, but no bite to put behind it?" The hand on his hip trailed downward to a far more intimate area as Logan trailed gentle fingers around him, circling his groin through the material of his pants, but never truly touching.

Gambit felt the beginnings of desire course through him at the feather-light touch and clenched his jaw shut - he refused to find it arousing. Wolverine's other hand pulled back, two of the three blades retracting into his arm as they were pulled out of the wall. One blade remained, however, withdrawing back into his arm just enough so that it would be of a manageable length.

Remy's hunter slid the blade down his chest lightly, but the sharp Adamantium left a thin red trail in its wake, making the Cajun flinch at the small pinpricks of pain as Logan continued tracing patterns on his bare skin. Cold wind played over the shallow wounds, making them burn as the icy blade continued on its way down, but chilling pain and blazing fire were soon replaced by wet warmth as Logan's tongue trailed over the cuts, lightly flicking away the blood and making shudders run up and down his spine.

To add to his delightful misery the fingers were still trailing their path around his groin - just enough pressure so that Remy would know that they were there - just enough to make him desire greater contact. He strained at his bonds, the handcuffs cutting deeply into his wrists; he wanted to push Logan away. He didn't want this, it wasn't right. Then why did it feel so right?

A cold sensation drew his attention to the blade that was resting against the small of his back as Wolverine's bladed hand rested on his left hip, the man's mouth now placing warm kisses around the hard nub of Remy's nipple, before his tongue darted out to lathe wetly across it.

Remy moaned, feeling his own growing arousal - against his wishes and better judgement. Wolverine paused, seeming to listen intently to the sounds he was making, seeming almost as though he hungered for them, as he smiled against the Cajun's chest as he began sucking on the hardened nipple again. But then his grin turned wicked and he bit down sharply, drawing blood.

Remy cried out in pain as his nipple throbbed, trying to pull away, but Wolverine held him tightly, both hands gripping his hips - keeping him in place. Logan began sucking again, gently rolling his tongue over the aching nub, easing the pain away as he caressed Gambit's side, trailing his hand up and down as though soothing a skittish animal, waiting for him to relax.

It was not long before Remy was moaning in pleasure again as Wolverine traded one nipple for the other, alternating between sucking and rolling his tongue over the hardened nub. Gambit was panting when Logan pulled away, standing back slightly with his hands on his hips, a single blade still extended from one, as he admired his handiwork, smiling at the sight of Remy's half-mast eyes and flushed face as the thief's chest heaved.

Gambit looked up at Logan when he noticed the lack of his warmth pressed against his body - the trails of saliva running across his chest seeming the focal point of attack from the chilling drafts of air that moved through the room.

Wolverine was smiling at himself, obviously satisfied with what he saw. He had no reason not to be - Remy's resistance had crumbled; he was on his knees and quite willing to beg Logan to use his skilled tongue elsewhere. The part of his mind that wasn't caught in a pleasurable haze chided him for his lack of pride.

"Logan?" he felt his voice crack and realised how close the man had brought him, without even properly starting to touch him anywhere very intimate. And then something happened - he couldn't quite explain it, but Logan's expression seemed to soften, another emotion coming to the fore for an instant - an emotion that Remy did not recognise and then... Logan kissed him.

It took Remy a while to respond, he had not expected it - Logan wanted sex; that much he knew, but the way Wolverine kissed him belied it - there was something more there. The kiss was deep and lingering; it stole Remy's breath away and left him dazed when Logan finally pulled away due to lack of air.

Gambit had no time to recover as Wolverine viciously attacked his neck, kissing and licking across any and all of the exposed flesh that he could easily reach, causing Remy to moan deeply in his throat, letting his head fall back against the wall to give Logan better access.

A warm tongue trailed over the skin just to the left and above Remy's collarbone, before teeth bit down on the exposed flesh, leaving a red mark in its wake - Gambit had the distinct impression that Wolverine was marking his territory. Hot breath blew against the wet mark as Logan pulled back, the contrasting sensations making the Cajun shiver.

Once again Logan moved to kiss him and this time Remy responded enthusiastically, forcing his own tongue into Wolverine's mouth and exploring the warm chasm; it was the only way he could touch Logan of his own accord with his hands tied above his head. Wolverine was smiling when he pulled away, leaving Remy feeling empty and alone as their lips parted.

Suddenly the grin turned wicked and he brought his still-bladed hand upwards and rested the cold Adamantium against the Cajun's cheek. "I'd suggest you remain very still, Remy," he whispered, his voice turning the thief's name into a caress.

Remy's tormentor dropped to his knees, bringing the blade down across the material of the Cajun's pants and slicing it open. Deft fingers tugged the severed material open - Remy's boxers were in tatters, much like his pants and a thin red line trailed down from his navel.

Logan glanced upwards at the thief, who hadn't shown anything, not even a wince as the sharp blade had cut him, even though denying the outcry had cost him - Remy trailed his tongue over the inside of his lip, tasting the copper of blood.

Wolverine focussed his attention on the wound again - trailing a light finger down its length, before removing the remains of the thief's pants and underwear completely - they were tossed into an obscure corner without further thought as he continued his ministrations. He watched the wound - his eyes considering, before he leant forward.

Logan let his tongue flick out to lap at the red liquid, circling around Remy's navel before moving downwards. Cold shudders ran through Remy as the flat of Logan's blade was pressed against his inner thigh, making him squirm, but Wolverine's other hand on his hip kept him reasonably still as the blade started trailing lazy circles along his thigh. The blade shifted, the circles now being traced around his groin as Logan trailed wet kisses downwards through the chestnut-coloured public hair.

Remy let out a strangled gasp as he felt the icy Adamantium being pressed against the underside of his shaft. Logan's lips curved upwards in a smile at the sound as he pulled away, focussing his attention on the blade as he carefully ran its flat down the length of Gambit's cock, making him groan in pleasure.

A fierce heat replaced the pleasantly cool sensation as Logan retracted the blade the rest of the way into his arm and engulfed Remy's length in his warm mouth. Gambit sighed contentedly as Wolverine swirled his tongue against the head of his staff, drawing an opalescent drop from the tip. Logan tightened his lips around Remy's manhood, taking more of it into his mouth; upping the suction before drawing his teeth over it lightly as he pulled back - listening to the Cajun moan. Wolverine closed his mouth around Gambit's shaft again and proceeded to undo him, jealously swallowing the thief's seed when Remy came into his mouth after Logan deep-throated him.

Gambit let his head fall back against the wall as wave after wave of ecstasy surged through him, his knees buckling as he was brought over the edge, not caring who heard the strangled gasps and moans that escaped his lips.

Darkness beckoned to him from behind closed eyelids as he panted, the only thing that kept him standing being the handcuffs that tied him to the pipe and Logan's hands on his hips, as the hunter pushed himself upwards to share a salty kiss - the result of his efforts - with Remy.

Gambit opened his eyes to look at Wolverine through half-lidded orbs after the other X-Man pulled away, only to see that Logan was grinning at him yearningly. The Cajun's eyes travelled downwards - towards the obvious bulge that Logan's pants barely concealed and a lazy smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he looked up at Wolverine again.

"We are going to have to do something about that, mon cher." Remy briefly wondered at his choice of words, but dismissed it - it felt right. Gambit pulled at his bonds irritably, before sighing. "Alas, mon amour, Remy is a bit tied up at the moment - you will have to remove those garments for him," he said, his mouth twisting into a wry smile.

Wolverine didn't need to be told twice, he immediately moved to do as the Cajun bid, but Remy was enjoying this little taste of control when he in truth had none. "Slowly, mon cher, slowly, give good ol' Remy something to look at."

Logan obediently slowed his pace, taking his time to pull his shirt over his head and letting it drop to the floor by his side. His boots and pants were next and Remy cocked his head to the side to get a better view as they too were removed, agonizingly slow.

Gambit let his eyes travel over Logan's body as the man stood before him, fully revealed in his shameless nudity - he was magnificent, but Wolverine was growing impatient and was quick to remind Remy that though he might have indulged in the thief's little strip-show he was still in control.

Gambit was brutally slammed back against the wall as Logan took control again, grinding his erection against Remy's hips so that the Cajun could just begin to feel his cock twitch and come alive again in response.

Wolverine's mouth sought his out urgently, their tongues battling for dominion as the kiss deepened. Logan won as Remy's tongue retreated back into the Cajun's mouth, closely followed by Wolverine's own as he proceeded to plunder the thief's warm chasm. After a few agonizingly pleasurable moments Logan pulled away, his hand coming up to cup Remy's face as the Cajun leaned into the caress.

Wolverine's other hand slid around his back, coming to rest on Gambit's bare bottom, squeezing gently, kneading the warm flesh and finally moving to gently circle around Remy's tight opening. Gambit unconsciously pressed back against Logan's palm, seeking greater contact.

The hand that had been pressed against his backside disappeared and Remy moaned at its loss, but was distracted when Logan pressed a single finger against his lips. Gambit immediately understood and opened his mouth to accept the proffered digit, sucking on it as though it were a lollipop, coating it with saliva, doing the same to the second and third digit as they too joined their companion within his mouth. Wolverine's moan was like a hard-won prize and caused the Cajun to pull more harshly at the proffered fingers before Logan retracted them.

Wolverine let the hand that was cupping Remy's face trail downwards, tracing the muscles of the thief's chest, never stopping their descent as they came to rest gently over Gambit's reawakening arousal. Light fingers taunted Remy with phantom caresses before the hand moved around the thief's body to rest on his bottom, trailing down the crease and splaying it wide as he pressed the flat of his palm steadily down.

The wettened fingers of his other hand pressed against the puckered hole of Remy's opening, before Logan slid one inside, stretching the taunt muscle. Wolverine pressed the digit deeper into Gambit, hooking the end, searching out that specific spot that he knew would make Remy buck and scream. A second digit pressed pass the circle of muscles, joining its brother in their quest and finally gaining success as they brushed over the Cajun's prostate.

Gambit cried out, the sensation building in his lower half almost painfully erotic as a third digit entered him - knowingly being teased across the centre of his pleasure. He was panting for breath, his heart beating rapidly in his chest; so caught up in the sensation that the sudden loss of contact made a strangled sob escape his throat.

He opened his eyes, which had fallen shut in the onslaught of ecstasy to find Logan smirking at him again. Remy couldn't stand it - he wanted Wolverine badly, he yearned to have the other X-Man touch him, to have Logan within him.

His body shuddered, desire coursing through him as he stared at Wolverine, begging him to finish what he'd started. Logan only smiled at him knowingly - infuriating Remy further - he'd never known that Wolverine was such a tease. "What do you want, Remy?" he drawled, his wet fingers intimately trailing circles on the Cajun's exposed chest. The question only served to further his need as his thoughts turned to what he really wanted, his arousal stiffened even further between his legs, desire driving him mad.

"Logan." It came out in a strangled sob, no other words would follow - he could feel himself unravelling. Fire trailed across his chest where Logan touched him. Gambit couldn't stand it any longer, he twined his fingers around the chains that bound him and pulled himself upwards - ignoring the handcuffs as they cut into his wrists - taking the weight off his legs and wrapping those around Wolverine's thighs, pulling Logan closer and raising his hips so that the X-Man's erection came into blissful contact with his entrance, even if it did not pierce. "Fuck me." He stated in a low, urgent growl.

Wolverine was quick to respond to the blatant invitation, grabbing hold of Remy's hips and guiding his member inside, almost agonizingly slow, causing the Cajun to writhe on top of him as he supported the thief; keeping Gambit from ramming down in order to sheathe himself fully. Making the Cajun tremble at the exquisite pain burned through his lower half as a strangled sob escaped his throat. It hurt, but he refused to show it - he made his body relax, wishing that Logan would move so that the motion could take his mind off the pain.

But Wolverine had noticed; he was kissing Remy's lips, whispering soothing words - the tenderness of it surprising the Cajun - it seemed so at odds with everything - with the man whispering them; with the circumstances under which they were being said... Yet the words were still calming, no matter the strangeness of them - Remy felt the pain subside to a dull ache as Logan slowly began pulling out of him, taunting him with his lazy withdrawal.

Gambit did not think he would survive this if Logan continued with his teasing ways and Wolverine must have been feeling the same hunger and need that surged through Remy's body course through his own, because he quickened his pace - sliding out of the Cajun and ramming into him with such force and speed that the back of his head struck the wall behind him.

But Gambit took no notice of the beginnings of a headache as the tip of Wolverine's manhood brushed over his prostate, sending wave after wave of tantalizing sensation coursing through his being. Remy felt as though he were on fire and the flames burned hotter with every stroke, until finally he climaxed - his body pulling taunt and drawing Logan's own release from him as waves of liquid fire engulfed him - the world turning white before his eyes as star danced within his gaze.

It took a while before Gambit regained the use of his senses and blinked, clearing the spots away from his vision. Logan was watching him again while his hands still supported the Cajun, keeping Remy's legs around his waist and off the floor. The handcuffs dug deeply into his wrists and he grimaced in pain.

Wolverine glanced up at the source of Gambit's discomfort and smiled wryly before he released the thief's legs and pulled away, moving towards his discarded clothes and fishing out a small silver key as the Cajun regained his feet and stood.

Remy watched Logan approach him again, the key hanging from a ring that had been pulled down over his finger, making it glitter silvery against the flat of his palm. He held it up for Remy to see, before slipping his other hand around the back of the Cajun's head and pulling the thief forward into a kiss.

When the kiss broke Logan pulled away and held the key up for him to see again. "I'm going to untie you now, Remy, but before I do I'd like you to understand what this is about. You're mine now and if you ever forget it - I won't hesitate to show you again and next time I won't be as lenient."

Remy stared at him - Logan couldn't possibly mean it. Gambit couldn't believe it; he wanted to laugh, but the look in Wolverine's eyes left no room for doubt - the shorter man meant every word.

Logan took Remy's silence as assent and unlocked the cuffs, pulling the Cajun into his arms when he would have fallen and letting them both sink to the floor as he held the thief, trailing light fingers through chestnut-coloured hair. "You're mine now, Remy." He growled low in his throat before kissing the top of the Cajun's head.

Remy smiled to himself before looking up at his lover, trailing a languid finger over the muscles of Logan's chest. "Oui, but Remy thinks he should make a habit of forgetting it, if only to have you remind him." He replied, laughter dancing over the muted coals of his eyes, content to simply let the moment linger - he could get used to being wanted...

He felt the dice roll and he made no move to stop it as he lay in Logan's arms - maybe he could learn to trust in fate again.

This free website was made using Yola.

No HTML skills required. Build your website in minutes.

Go to and sign up today!

Make a free website with Yola