Title: Rough Trade and the Thief

Author: Scorpio (scorpiofic@aol.com)

Website: no site, but all stories are listed at a friend's: http://members.tripod.com/sentinel-cat/Scorpio/

_________________________________________________

 

Rough Trade and the Thief 3

By Scorpio

 

Remy had only just arrived in the city of New York recently, so he wasn't as familiar with the streets, neighborhoods and the various territories as he would have liked. It had only been a month since his exile from N'Awlins and the Thieves Guild. Traveling aimlessly and living off of his savings from previous jobs, he had made his way up the coast, only stopping to eat, sleep and drink himself into oblivion. He had a vague idea of staying here in New York for a short time to enjoy the sights before turning west and heading for the far coast.

And now that he was here in the Big Apple what did he do? Go out trawling for hustlers. Not the brightest move he could have made, but by that point Gambit didn't really care. He just wanted a bit of fun and excitement to drown out the pain and loneliness that had been his sole companion since his duel with Julian. Not wanting to get lost, he had taken pains to follow direct routes and limit the number of turns he'd taken so that he could find his way back to his hotel easily.

With Ice on the back of his Low Rider holding on tight he was a little less worried about getting lost. Gambit would be willing to bet that the kid knew the entire city inside and out and if Gambit needed to get directions then he could get them from Ice. If not out of the goodness of his heart, then for a few bucks. When he himself had been younger and living on the streets of N'Awlins he had offered directions to lost tourists for a few dollars to buy himself a filling meal and Remy didn't think that this cynical hustler man-child would be any different.

However, he didn't head straight to his hotel. He had promised Ice a hot meal and he was hungry himself, so he headed towards an outdoor cafe' that he had passed earlier in the evening. Turning onto the main thoroughfare, Gambit let his thoughts drift. He idly wondered if he should try and get close to Ice so that he could show him that there was other ways to live and survive besides selling your body to the highest bidder. Jean-Luc had given Remy a chance to pull himself out of the gutter and he had been grateful for it. Maybe Ice would feel the same way. But then again, maybe he wouldn't appreciate someone poking around in his life and messing with his sense of self. It was hard to tell. It would certainly be simpler to just take what Ice was selling and enjoy it while it lasted and then head off on his own again.

Driving several blocks down the street, Gambit was pulled out of his own wandering thoughts by his empathy. Frowning slightly, he concentrated on that odd sensation of alien emotion that tickled over his brain and down his spine. Worry. Mild fear. Concern. Anticipation. Starting small, these feelings were growing more intense by the minute. Gambit knew that they were coming from Ice, but he couldn't understand *why*. He himself had done nothing by word or deed that would indicate that he had violent plans for the boy and Ice had radiated confidence and mild lust in his presence earlier. So what had changed? Gambit wasn't sure, so he just sped up a little so that they would get to the cafe' faster. Once they were off the bike, they could talk and he could find out what was bothering the young street hustler.

It didn't take very long for the cafe' to come into view and Remy slowed down and swung over into the side lane. Grinning slightly, he pulled his motorcycle to a stop in a small space that no car could have fit it. Granted, the front wheel was aimed up at the sidewalk, but the back end of the bike didn't stick out into traffic, so Gambit wasn't worried. It wasn't the most
legal parking job, but what did he care about following the law?

Turning off the Harley, Gambit nudged Ice to get off and then he slid off of it himself. Running his long fingers through his hair to settle it and reaching up to make certain his sunglasses were firmly in place, Gambit turned to face Ice. The boy's face was drawn up in a tight mask of indifference even though his eyes continuously scanned back and forth over
the area. He was putting out even more intense pulses of caution and fear. Gambit frowned.

"Homme? Wha's wrong?"

Ice's blue eyes snapped to Gambit's and his expression was deadly serious.

"This isn't the best part of town to be caught in. We're right in the middle of Bull Dog territory. This is not a good thing."

Gambit's frown deepened as he glanced from the sidewalk cafe' to the hustler still standing by the Harley. A waitress in a stripped shirt that matched the awning overhead sauntered up with a pad in her hand. Remy smiled at her with his most charming smile even as his mind tried to figure out what Ice was hinting at.

"Can I get you something?"

"Oui, p'tite. Un turkey club, large fries an' a beer."

Gambit glanced over at Ice and noticed that the boy had slowly drifted closer, but that he was glaring at the waitress with suspicious eyes. Sighing internally, Gambit offered her a slight shrug and a soft grin.

"Bettah make dat two, eh chere?"

The waitress giggled and blushed before she turned away, an extra swish to her hips as she made her way inside the cafe' to place their order. His own grin falling away as he turned from the woman to face Ice again, he figured he'd try once again to make sense of his ramblings.

"Bull Dog territory, huh? And dis is not a good t'ing?"

Ice nodded, but didn't say anything. His eyes just went back to scanning the area. It was an amazing display of paranoia and Gambit didn't need his empathy to see that Ice felt exposed and out of place here. Sighing, he nodded his head. He had suffered enough run-ins with the street gangs back home in N'Awlins when he had made his home in an abandoned building to
respect Ice's fear of being in the wrong place.

"Fine. We get our food and take it on de road."

Ice glanced up at Remy for a long moment and he felt as if those blue eyes were looking deep inside him. For a brief second, Gambit was tempted to put up an extra set of mental shields, but as far as he could tell, Ice wasn't probing him with any form of telepathy or empathy. He was just a street kid who had learned early and hard how to read people. He must have found what he was looking for, because Ice suddenly offered up a small grin and nodded his head in acceptance.

Leaning up against a light pole, Gambit alternately watched the people streaming by, the customers at the cafe' and Ice. The boy seemed to be high-strung and nervous, but not so obvious that you would notice if you didn't know to look for it. Reaching into his pocket to pull out his cigarettes, Gambit's quiet contemplation of the mystery that was Ice was shattered by a hoarse voice shouting out over the din of the diners.

"Look guys! That fucking mutie whore is *back* in our territory!"

Ice instantly stiffened up and flashed Gambit a look of real regret and fear before turning to face the boys that had just walked around the corner and slowly backing away. Suddenly Remy understood what had unnerved the boy so much about being here as the final pieces fell into place. It hadn't made sense that Ice would face down that bartender Tank to his face but then turn so timid about being at an outdoor cafe'. It wasn't his *profession* that was making him fearful, it was the fact that he was a mutant. Apparently, that was not accepted in this neighborhood.

Turning his head to look over at the boys that were striding towards them, Gambit saw that they ranged in age from what he assumed was Ice's age to his own. They were a typical street gang. Thugs in leather and with little to no real concept of the real world, merely clinging to their own limited ideals with the tenacity of a dog with a bone. Dangerous, maybe even deadly in the right circumstance, but also easily left behind to fester in their own filth.



Gambit found himself facing a choice that he hadn't planned on making. He could step back and let Ice deal with this on his own. It was possible that the kid would get the shit kicked out of him, but it was also possible that he'd be able to get away. A person doesn't spend *that* much time on the streets before they learn how to get away from trouble when it comes looking for you. That would also end any chance of getting to know Ice and possibly making his first friend since he left N'Awlins. On the other hand, he could make a stand as a mutant himself and help Ice beat off these gang-members, risking his own life and limbs. It would tie Ice to him tighter than any quick bouncing between the sheets ever would.

"Look man. I'm not bothering anyone here. Just getting something to eat and then I'm leaving. So, just... you know. Back off."

The boy who seemed to be the leader of the gang laughed at Ice's quick explanation. It was loud and rough and it lacked any real mirth. A quick flick of his hands sent the other leather clad boys with him to fan out in a semi circle, blocking Ice back against a parked car.

"I don't care if you end up starving to *death*, you mutie freak. I told you before that you ain't supposed to step *one foot* in my territory. And yet, here you are."

The gang leader spread his arms wide, gesturing around him as if he was making an excellent point. The patrons of the outside cafe' were quickly gathering their things and abandoning their tables as they scattered. People were muttering and expressions were turning ugly, the word "mutant" ringing out often.

Looking on at the quickly deteriorating situation, Gambit sighed to himself and pulled out the cigarette that he had been reaching for. Two long legged strides brought him right over beside Ice. Reaching up with one hand, he pushed his sunglasses up off of his face and onto the top of his head, exposing his burning red on black eyes for all to see. Then, casually as can be, he put the cigarette in his mouth and lit it with a small kinetic charge.

"Choo got problems wit' mutants, homme? 'Cause Gambit, he gonna have t' take dat a little personal, eh?"

Ice startled slightly, but then flashed him a quick grin even as the gang members looked on in shock. It was obvious that they weren't used to anyone standing up to them.

"Told you this wasn't a good neighborhood. It's full of trash."

Ice gestured slightly to the gang members and Gambit grinned.

"Dat choo did, mon folle. Dat choo did."

The members of the Bull Dogs, however, didn't appreciate Ice's comments any more than they liked the fact that two mutants had invaded the area that they had claimed as their own. The leader balled up one hand into a fist and then punched it into the flat of his other hand. As if that was an unspoken signal, violence erupted around them.

Two of the gang members dove at Ice and he went down in a tumble with them. Three of the other's charged towards Remy. Not even thinking, he charged his cigarette and spit it out at one of them. It was a low charge, not enough to kill, but it exploded against the kid's leather jacket and sent him flying backwards out of the fight. That left two for Gambit to fight. Much better odds.

Ducking under a punch, Remy kicked out with his right foot. He felt his boot connect to something solid and he heard the whoosh of air out of a set of lungs. Twisting around in a spin, Gambit caught a quick look over at Ice. He immediately understood where the hustler's nickname came from. The blonde was literally coated in a sheen of sparkling crackling ice and one of his opponent's had both of his booted feet encased in a huge block of ice. That
boy was currently trying to break the ice and free himself even as the other gang member punched Ice right on the jaw.

Then Remy's attention was pulled back to his own opponents as he jumped up and over a chair that came flying towards him from the center of the outside cafe'. He landed several feet away from his attacker. Reaching into one of his many pockets, he pulled out several playing cards and charged them with a low dose of kinetic energy. He tossed them in front of him in a wide arc and leaped backwards out of the range of the explosion. One of the Bull Dogs went
flying through the air to land on the hood of a parked car.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a throwing knife came whistling through the air. Gambit could hear it, but he couldn't sense it because there was far too much commotion happening around him and it was messing with his spatial sense. He tried to drop and let it pass over him, but he wasn't fast enough. With the sickening sound of wet meat being split, white-hot pain blossomed across his back. Agony sizzling along his entire body, Remy felt his knees buckle from the pain and for a second he thought that he was going to throw up. Then a heartrending cry filled the air. Ice.

"NOOOOO!!!"

Gambit had just enough strength to open his eyes and watch as Ice literally turned into his namesake. Then, in a wave of crackling ice and unspeakable cold, the gang members were encased in large jagged blocks of ice one by one. His mind absently noted that their leather clad attackers would die of suffocation trapped in their icy prisons if the intense cold hadn't already killed them, but he couldn't find it in himself to care about that very much. He was too busy bleeding his life out onto the cold wet cement sidewalk.

Then Ice was there, back to healthy pink flesh, his blue eyes wild with panic as the boy leaned over him.

"Oh man! Fuck! You're *not* going to die. You *hear* me Gambit! Not from stepping in to try and save *my* ass from a beating, you're not."

Before he could gasp in enough air to say anything, Ice was quickly yanking the knife out of his lower back and peeling his trenchcoat off of him. Turning him over carefully, Gambit heard Ice suck in a quick gasp of air.


"Is it bad, mon ami?"

His own voice was hissed between teeth clenched tight against the pain. When he answered, Ice's voice was shaky, but with an underlying tone of hope.

"Uh... yeah. It's bad. But don't worry too much. Healer can fix this. I just have to keep you alive long enough to get you to Healer. Then you'll be fine. Honest."

Then Ice was pealing off his own satin shirt and balling it up against the knife wound on Gambit's back, pressing it tightly to stop the bleeding. Gambit could feel himself getting dizzy from the pain and the blood loss.

"Who, cher?"

Ice ignored him and glanced around.

"Fuck!"

Then Ice shifted. Moving his hand away from the pressure bandage, he replaced it with his knee. Grabbing up the knife that had been sunk in Remy's back, Ice used it to cut away Gambit's t-shirt and then to quickly rip it into strips. Pulling his knee off of the satin pressure bandage, Ice used the torn t-shirt to hold his own shirt in place by wrapping the strips tightly around Remy's waist. Then, leaning back, he helped Gambit get his trenchcoat back on again.

"Come on, man. I gotta get you to Healer. *Now*. Gimme your keys."

Gambit paused for a brief second, measuring and considering the man-child before him. He could only sense sincerity and worry for him as well as the need to hurry. Nodding his head, Remy reached into his jean's pocket and pulled out the keys to his Harley. He handed them and his life over to Ice.

 

Go on to Part4

Go back to Part2