DISCLAIMER The X-Men are the property of Marvel Comics and are used without their
permission. Sikudhani McCoy is the property of Darqstar and is mentioned in this story with her
permission. This is a work of fanfiction, intended for entertainment purposes only.

The Reflection In The Mirror
Part Four
By ScarletLady

Remy dried himself off, and as best he could, fluff dried the pup with a soft towel. Taking another dry towel, he bundled the
puppy in it's fleecy folds, so he wouldn't catch a chill. Remy once again hugged the towel enfolded puppy to his chest, and
slowly walked back to his bedroom.

Remy was thinking wistful thoughts about the soft bed waiting for him there. With a small whimper and a mental nudge, the pup reminded him how hungry he was.

"Dieu. Sorry 'bout dat, petite." Remy headed back to the kitchen. Rummaging through the pantry, he found a can of what should be beef stew. Pouring about half the can into a small bowl, he set it on the floor, and unwrapped the puppy from the towel. He set the puppy down, and filled another bowl with lukewarm water. He didn't want the puppy to put anything cold into his system until he was a lot warmer.

Remy put the rest of the stew in the refrigerator, and set the water bowl down. The puppy had been sitting quietly on the floor.  "T'ink you de oddest pup I ever know, petite. Go 'head an' eat." As if manners had dictated his hesitation, the puppy quickly
scooted over to the food, and began to eat.

Remy eased into one of the kitchen chairs, and listened with a surprising degree of contentment to the small sounds the puppy
made as he attacked his dinner.

"Pup, I t'ink we both gonna be happier now, neh?" Remy hugged the thought to him, and felt a warm glow. The blanket of
silence that usually lay over everything like a dark shroud had lifted like so much fog. For the first time since, well... for a long time, Remy felt peace.

The old Gambit would have scoffed at the notion of simple contentment. His old self was a mass of emotions behind tightly
sealed doors, and he lived with constant tension and wariness. Even as recently as two hours ago, he was coiled tight around his pain, both physical and mental. Both in spite of and because of his accident, his time here in Canada had been a time of healing, and the uneasiness he had lived with as long as he could remember had faded. He felt ready to face the next minute, the next hour, and the next day.

He'd never been one to look to the future. He lived almost entirely in the present, and did whatever it was that needed done to make it through "right-now". The future was an abstract, and full of possibilities. He didn't know how to make sure *this*
possibility came to be, instead of *that* one, which meant he couldn't control it. Non-control of any situation was not something the thief was ever comfortable with, and in the past, Remy had elevated that to a phobia.

Remy let his thoughts simply drift, too tired to try to make specific sense of anything.

As the pup finished his dinner, he gave the bowl a final swipe to make sure he hadn't missed anything, then bounded over to
Remy and sat next to his chair.

The puppy scooted close enough to lean against Remy's leg, and let out a tired yawn, going from play to peace as easily as a
child needing a nap.

Remy titled his head back to the ceiling. If he were still capable of it, his eyes would have been full of tears. "T'ank you" was all he said.

"Time for bed, petite." He scooped up the puppy with his hand, and walked back to his room. "T'ink we gonna do fine."

He set the pup down at the end of his bed. It never once crossed his mind that most people thought a dog should sleep on the
floor, or even outside. This was *his* pup, and having again found a connection with another living being, he was making sure
that this time he didn't lose it.

It had been literally years since Remy had shared a bed with anyone. He couldn't fall asleep with another person so close; lack of trust in people had disallowed it. **Funny,** he said to himself. **Always hoped it'd be different w'it Rogue, but t'ink dis puppy trust me more dan she ever will.** Remy was too tired to fight off the melancholy mood creeping over him.

The puppy was still sitting where Remy had placed him. He looked up and made an inquiring yip.

Remy chuckled. "Yeah, you make your point, petite." Remy performed his nightly routine that had slowly become less
awkward, but never easy. Getting into bed. He bent his knees, and half tipped, half rolled onto his semi-good arm, and swung
his legs up. He clumsily grabbed the covers and pulled them up. He eased onto his back, and blew out a frustrated sigh. "T'ink I never get used to this. Can see it now, pup. Someday, dere gonna be a point where I wonder why I live like dis." Remy hadn't
yet reached that point, and he couldn't quite figure why. He had noone, except the pup. It wasn't a matter of simply learning to reach out to people, or changing an attitude. People feared him, and wouldn't allow him to become part of any community.
"Feel like de man in de iron mask, petite. Only he could take de mask off."

"Tch. Feelin' sorry for myself again, pup. And I got you now. So, no more cryin', neh?"

The puppy, as if he'd been waiting for Remy to finally settle, crawled his way up onto his chest, and curled up like a cat,
yawning again right in Remy's face.

Remy chuckled, never realizing that it was the first time he'd actually found something to laugh over since he'd left the X-Men.

"You jus' like m'sieu Chat, non?" Chat. Name a dog Cat? Remy stifled another chuckle. "T'ink we jus' found a name for you,
petite."

A tiny snore from the puppy was his only answer.

Remy smiled, and drifted into sleep.