The Longest Night - REVIEW THIS STORY

Written by Ascian
Last updated: 01/02/2007 02:01:11 AM

Chapter 6

In the darkness of his hotel room at the Far Eastern, Gambit lay stretched out on his bed. The telephone rested on his stomach, staring balefully at him. With a sigh, he finally picked up the receiver and punched in the numbers he had known by heart for so much of his life.

The phone rang twice, and the voice that answered was deep and rich.

"Mon pere," Gambit said. "We need t'talk."

"Don' we always?" Jean-Luc asked wryly, although Gambit thought he heard pleasure there. On the other end of the line came the sounds of shifting papers, followed by a low creaking that Gambit knew was his father's chair as the older man leaned backwards to prop his feet up on his desk. "Y' wan' know why I asked y' t'go t'Taiwan, neh?"

Gambit just waited, and his father grunted.

"Y'see, de Taiwan Guild-Master suspected dat his people were engaging in non-sanctioned activities, but he din' know who he could trust. So, he asked for help. He din' explain to his people why y' were comin', jus' dat

you'd be dere t'help dem wit' de kidnappings. An' y' did."

"M'friends almost lost deir lives," Gambit reminded him.

"But y' helped t'save dem, an' de lives o' o'der people dat were kidnapped. An' y' prevented dis from ever happenin' again."

"Yeah," Gambit muttered. "'Till de next crazy comes along and tries de same t'ing."

"Can' save everyone."

Gambit snorted. "Y' talkin' to de wrong person."

His father laughed; it was a low comforting sound, and Gambit realized that he had missed hearing it. Maybe it was time for a visit home, after he got back to the states. Maybe, he would take Marrow with him, and show off all his old haunts. She'd like that.

There was knock at his door. Gambit sighed. "Gotta go, Pa-Pa. I come see you when I get back, neh? I'll bring a friend."

"Y' do dat, Remy."

They did not linger over their good-byes, and Gambit placed the telephone back on the night stand. He stood up, briskly running his hands over his shirt. He picked up his jacket from where it lay on the bed, and swung it on as he walked to the door. He opened it to find Marrow, image-inducer on, her waist twisted as she tried to look at something on her back.

"Tres belle, petite," Gambit told her, smiling. Marrow blinked, and smoothed down the front of her dress. It sparkled in a delicate shade of rose-pink, and hugged her curves.

"Tell me that in English."

"Y' look beautiful," he said, and nearly laughed outright when she looked down, obviously flustered.

"It's the image-inducer," she muttered.

Gambit shook his head. "It ain't. Turn it off if y' don't believe me."

She stared at him, and Gambit reached down to her waist where he knew the image-inducer's controls were hidden. He tapped a button, and the illusion before him disappeared. Marrow, with her pink hair and delicate bones curving up from her forehead, looked at him with uncertain eyes.

"I can't."

"Y' can."

Marrow hesitated, and reached up to touch her forehead. She closed her eyes. "What if.what if people--"

Gambit took her hand and held it loosely. "So what if dey do, petite?" He grinned, and closed his door behind him. Tucking her hand under his elbow, he led her to the elevator. "I can guarantee, if de women say anyt'ing tonight, it'll be because dey're jealous dey can' look as good as you, an' if de men let deir mouths wag.it'll be 'cause dey're jealous you're wit such a handsome devil like moi."

Marrow couldn't hide the pleased smile that darted fleetingly across her lips.

"You.you look good, too."

Gambit grinned, and glanced down at his tuxedo. Li Zhang had recommended the store he'd bought it from, and despite their differences, the man had good taste.

"We're a pair dat'll stop traffic, dat's for sure."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Marrow muttered.

"I still don't know how I let you talk me into this, Hank."

"My dear, you look absolutely stunning."

"Don't try to change subjects on me, Mister." Cecilia looked at him reprovingly. "I thought this was going to be a quiet, albeit formal, scientific gathering, *not* some wild gala. I've seen so much ass pinching in the last hour, you'd think we were at Hooters." Cecilia looked around at the milling crowd with a faint light of disdain in her eyes. "I can't believe some of these people are actually respected in their fields."

"I will admit," Beast replied, noting the rather saccharine and drunken smiles of those around them. "That this gathering has been less than intellectually grounded. However, do you really mean to tell me that you have not enjoyed at least one modicum of our time here? You've been able to speak with some of the most respected men and women of this decade, *and* you managed to impress them with your intelligence. Dare I also mention that you have turned literally every head at this gathering?"

Cecilia smiled wryly, and smoothed a hand down the blue black silk that clung lovingly to her body. A collar covered her entire neck, but her shoulders remained bare, and the back of her dress dipped daringly. Finding the gown had been a stroke of luck, or else the result of one very well connected Cajun thief.

"Did I also mention that I've been approached twice this evening, by men wanting to know the name of the Escort service I work for?"

Beast choked on his drink, his eyes widening. "It is fortuitous indeed that I was not present to hear that," he finally managed to sputter. "There would no doubt have been blood shed. How, pray tell, did you respond to such brazen inquiries?"

"Oh," Cecilia purred. "I just gave them Emma Frost's private number."

She had to pound Beast on the back as he doubled over.

"What did I ever do without you, Cecilia?" He asked her, when he finally regained control over his breathing.

"I don't know," she replied simply, touching his cheek with her hand. "But I'm glad neither of us have to find out."

Hank smiled, and wrapped one great hand around her waist. He pulled her near. "You, Doctor Cecilia Reyes, are a closet romantic."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." She grinned, and peered over his shoulder. "Here come Gambit and Marrow."

Hank's eyes widened as he took in the approaching couple. "Oh my stars and garters," he murmured. "Us mutants are making a statement tonight, are we not?"

Cecilia felt an old pang run through her heart. There had been a time when she would have died rather than be seen at a public gathering with a mutant, little alone talk openly about her own genetic differences. But she had changed, and the last several days had further cemented the feelings that had been growing inside of her. There were some things a person couldn't deny, and trying to do so was just plain dumb.

"De gang's all here," Gambit laughed. Marrow, her posture stiff, stood beside him and glanced nervously at the milling scientists and intellectuals. Cecilia smiled.

"You look great," she told her. Marrow blinked, and some of the wariness melted out of her body.

"No one seems to be paying attention," she commented.

Cecilia snorted. "Between the big blue furry guy and the Cajun, I doubt either of us are going to be looked at much tonight."

That brought a smile to Marrow's lips, and Cecilia felt herself warming to the girl. //So miracles *do* happen//

"Have you named your dog yet?" Hank asked, taking a sip of his Champagne. Much to everyone's surprise, Marrow had declared earlier in the weekend that she was going to bring the "damn dog" back with her to the United States. Gambit had found a vet, and that morning he and the girl had taken the puppy to get its shots and paperwork for the trip home. Cecilia thought it was cute, though she wasn't really a dog person. At least, she didn't think she was.

"Damndog," Marrow replied.

Hank blinked. "Damn dog?"

"You deaf or something? Yeah, his name is Damndog."

"O-kay. That's--"

"--a perfect name." Gambit interrupted with a grin. Marrow grunted, somewhat mollified. It wasn't *her* fault the puppy refused to respond to anything else.

A soft waltz filled the room, and people began to pair off to dance.

Hank set down his glass on a nearby table and turned to Cecilia. "My Lady?" He offered her his hand. Cecilia looked at it appraisingly, and finally set her palm in his own.

"I look like a penguin when I dance," she told him.

"That's fine," he replied, drawing her out onto the dance floor. "I look like a blue gorilla."

"Just don't start picking nits out of my hair," Cecilia warned him.

"But they're so tasty."

Gambit turned to Marrow. "Come on, girl. Time y' learned t'dance."

"No."

"Oui."

"No." She stared at him defiantly.

"Dis ain' de time t'start arguin' wit me."

"Every time is a good time," Marrow retorted, but after a few grumbled swearwords muttered under her breath, she allowed herself to be drawn onto the dance floor.

It was, for everyone involved, a wonderful night.

The party had wound down hours ago, and the hotel staff members were now slowly beginning to put away chairs and tables, sweeping up the little and not-so-little messes that littered the room. Cecilia and Hank stood just outside the ring of their work, in a small, darkened lounge whose great

windows overlooked Taipei. The city spread beneath them, lights glittering like so many jewels thrown haphazard on a bed of steel and velvet. It was breathtaking.

"We're lucky to be here," Cecilia said, lightly pressing her fingertips against the glass. She felt Hank's hand brush her shoulder, and linger. "It was all too close, Hank."

She could feel the hands on her neck, fingers squeezing the life out of her body. She shivered, and was suddenly grateful for the warmth of Hank's body near her own.

"It's going to take a while for either of us to get over the things that were done," Hank said. "And the things we had to watch that were done to each other. At least we have ourselves to talk to."

Another memory flooded Cecilia's mind, this one of hands on her bare thighs. She began to push it away, and then stopped. She reached up to her shoulder, and gently squeezed Hank's hand. "There are some things we won't tell the others," she said quietly.

Hank nodded, and wrapped his free arm around her waist. She pressed her back into his chest, and sighed. The city winked and beckoned, drawing them in, sinking them deep into a private pocket of dark, quiet space.

"We are very lucky, Cecilia," he whispered, and gently pressed his lips into her hair.