DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, locations, and items within the Marvel Universe are the property of Marvel. This piece of fiction was written purely as fan entertainment, and the author of which intends no copyright infringement, and recieves no monetary compensation from its creation.

Rule one; looks are deceiving. Things, people are rarely what they appear to be on the surface. I know this better than most. I am a mutant.

The name is Remy LeBeau, though I am probably better known as the X-Man Gambit. In my day I have been many thing; a thief, a prince, an outcast, a villain, and a hero. Sometimes individually, sometimes all at once, but it's changed of often that it is hard even for me to keep track.

But this isn't my story; I just got a lucky part of the chorus. She's the star. Laura Kinney, X-23, the female clone another X-Man, The Wolverine.

She shared many of her… What was Wolverine to her, her father? I guess in a weird way, he was. So, she shared many of her father's traits.

Heightened senses, healing factor, razor sharp claws, and a temper that could make the Hulk look docile by comparison. She'd also gotten a dark and troubled past. Created as an evolution of the failed Weapon-X program, she was conceived by people who used and abused her for their own gain and twisted pleasure.

She never had a chance with them. They beat, and broke her before she had the chance to be whole. For the first thirteen years of her life the only thing she knew of warmth, kindness, or joy were hidden actions from her mother, and the occasional Facility employee. Whenever it was discovered, the bastards controlling her would rip it away.

She eventually escaped the place where she was made, and began a journey that led her to Logan, the X-Men, and me.

"God, help her."

"Help who?" Laura's head came up, her piercing green eyes immediately scanning the crowd beyond window of the New York café where we were having lunch. "Who needs help?"

"Quoi?" I turned to look out window too, and then realized I must have spoken out loud before. "Oh no, cher. It's okay, no one needs help."

Laura turned to me with a frown, "Then why did you say, God help her?"

"I was just thinking, petit. It just kind of slipped out." I shrugged a little hoping she would let it go at that. Luck, it seemed, decided I was on my own.

"What were you thinking about that a fictional deity would need to assist with?"

"It is kind of hard to explain, petit." I shrugged as my mind scrambled for a way to change the subject. "You don't believe in God, cher?"

Brilliant, avoid explaining you were thinking about her by bringing up religion. That's less complicated. What the hell are you thinking ya dumb Cajun? Well, you started it, the least you could do is actually pay attention to the girl's answer.

"There is no physical evidence that a being such as the Christian god exists." Laura's replay short and to the point as always, and all I had to do was let it go.

Yeah… "There's no evidence says he don't either."

"In this case, the absence of evidence would be the evidence." She said with a soft arch of her brow.

"Touché," I couldn't help smiling at her as I leaned back, balancing my chair on its rear legs. "Course, as my Tate would say, there are some things you just have to take on faith."

She tilted her head slightly in a way reminiscent of the old RCA commercials; you know the ones where the dog hears his owner over the speakers. It made me chuckle a little. Which apparently she intended, as she smiled before asking, "Do you believe in God, Remy?"

Again, I couldn't help think what a wonderful topic choice I'd made. Still, I gave a shrug. "Things are never that simple, petit."

Stop there, LeBeau. "I was raised to believe, and I've seen plenty that make me think that there's got to be someone out there watching over us."

"Course, I've seen just as much, been part of it too, to say that there is nobody that gives a damn. I guess I want to believe though; want to think that maybe someday this here sinner has a chance at redemption, and a shot at paradise. But to believe that, I got to believe that maybe there aint."

Laura's expression very distant a split second before she bowed her head, and looked away. I knew instantly that she was thinking of her past and what kind of redemption there was for her. Someday I really had to develop the ability just to keep my big trap shut.

I dropped the legs of the chair as I leaned forward, "Merde, Laura. I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by that. You know once this Cajun starts talking it's hard for him to stop."

"I'm fine." Laura answered, but she wouldn't look at me.

"I know la femme better den dat, chéri." I reached across the table and placed my hand over hers.

I felt her hand tense undermine, and I got a very vivid image of her claws shooting the back of my hand. The claws stayed sheathed, but she did turn her head to look down at our joined hands with curiosity. "I didn't mean to upset you, petit. You forgive dis dumb Cajun, oui?"

"You are not dumb."

She actually sounded angry that time. I wondered if it was because I was still talking, or if it was something I'd said. I swallowed; well, in for a penny as the saying goes.

"Toutes les preuves à l'effet contraire." I squeezed her hand softly, "Please cher, I like it when you look at me."

She lifted her head, and I smiled. "Vous aves de beaux yeux, petit."

"The men that paid to sleep with me said the same thing."

"Mon Dieu!" I think I would rather she'd stabbed me, as she pulled her hand out of mine. "Laura, I…"

"It is alright, they're gone now." Her voice was even, normal. But the look in her eyes as she cradled her arms against her stomach said everything. "It was a long time ago."

Long time ago, the girl had only been with the X-Men for all of three years. Christ, she was barely 17 now. "Cher, dat aint alright."

"You are angry with me."

"Angry with…" I suddenly realized that I had been steadily raising my voice, and the rest of the diners in the café were now watching us.

I gritted my teeth, pulling my hands through my hair as I tried to calm down. I pulled off the shades I had been wearing up until that point, so Laura could see my eyes as looked at her. I desperately needed her to see, and believe, I meant every word I was about to say.

"I'm angry, petit, but not with you. I'm angry because someone did… things to you. I'm angry that because of those things I can give you a compliment without it bring up… memories."

It was harder than I expected to keep my voice level. I wanted to find the people that had hurt her, and kill every last one of the bastards for her. Though, if I thought about it, she said they were gone so it was probably a safe bet to assume that had already been taken care of. And yet, still not better.

I sighed, as I laid my hand, palm up, on the table in front of her. "I can't help being angry, mon petit. But I promise you, I will never, could never, be angry at you for something that you had no control of."

Laura looked down at my hand and then back at me. "I should not have told you."

"Non, you should have. Just maybe, not in the same way next time. I'm an old man; I can't take that kind of shock as well anymore." I wiggled my fingers on the table, trying to get her to take my hand.

When she did, I smiled at her, "We are good now, oui?"

Lauren nodded, "Oui."

I smiled, then stood up, pulling her up with me. "Bon! What you say we get out of here? Maybe take a walk down by Broadway, take in a matinee. What you say, cher?"

"Shouldn't we be meeting your contact?"

"It can wait." I said, retrieving my sunglasses and gesturing for the waiter to bring our check. "It's not every day a man like me gets to spend the day with such lovely company."

The girl suddenly gave me a very strange look. "What is it, petit?"

"You are serious."

Now it was my turn to have a strange look. "Despite what people say, petit, I usually am. Course, maybe you should explain?"

Laura didn't say anything until the waiter came and I paid him. After, as we walked out on to the street, she finally answered. "Earlier when you said you didn't get 'to spend the day with such lovely company', you weren't joking. But I have known you for several months now, and at any time you could have had female companionship."

"Dat don't make me sound so nice, cher." I said with a wince as I picked a random direction and started walking.

"I didn't mean it impolitely, it just…" Laura frowned as looked for the right words.

I took her shoulder, and pulled her to a stop so we were facing each other. "Laura, did you ever think what I said might be less about me, and more about you. Of all the femmes in the world, there isn't another one like you, cher. You're special, and I would like very much to take you to a matinee."

We stood in the middle of the busy New York sidewalk as annoyed residents hustled around us as Laura came to terms with what I'd just said. To be honest, I was doing a little coming to terms myself. I meant what I said, but what had I really meant? And why did I suddenly feel very nervous that girl in front of me would turn down my offer?

Better watch it LeBeau, you're damned close to some very dangerous territory. "It's just a play."

"Alright," she said, "What do you want to see?"

"Alice in Wonderland."

I started walking again, and Laura fell easily instep. "I didn't know that was a play."

"New adaptation." I said looking down at her with a wry smile. "Should be an adventure."