All My Marvel Ships

Romy: Touch Me

Gambit let out a bitter sigh. He was happy for the couple. He really was, but things like this only reminded him of the girl he loved and how he couldn't ever have her.

It was Jean and Scott's wedding and Gambit was dancing with the newlywed bride. Complimenting her on the service and wishing her a happy life with Cyclops in his deep Cajun voice.

Jean finally sighed, "Rem? Listen... I really won't mind if you go find her. I understand why she couldn't be here, and I really don't mind.  She needs company much more than I do."

The Cajun finally stopped rambling and considered Jean's advice. Gambit knew she would love the company, despite what she would say.

He finally nodded and thanked her. Remy walked over to Scott for final goodbyes.

Scott smiled at his wife's friend's worried face, knowing exactly what he would say when he walked over. Scott didn't particularly like Remy that much, but if he made her happy then he didn't really mind too much, "Going to see her? Good luck, Gambit."

Gambit simply nodded and mumbled out a half-hearted congratulations.

Remy quickly made his way to the mansion and into his room. He knew where she would be, but he wanted to get changed before he saw her.

Gambit quickly slid into a pale grey shirt and ripped jeans. He slid a different pair of his half-fingerless gloves on and pocketed a few packs of cards. He pulled on his long black overcoat and let out a long weary sigh. Gambit walked to the mirror to survey himself and let his hand run through his burgundy locks to try and smooth the hairs that stuck up in all directions.

Finally deeming himself ready, he got into the small plane that he made Hank build just for him. (Hank had asked what it was for, but Remy would never admit that it was so he could reach the places she went that he couldn't normally follow.)

Gambit drove in silence until he reached the precarious cliff that he had been to so many times before. And there she stood. In all her beautiful glory.

His Rogue. His Marie. His chéri. Her long dark locks were flowing in the breeze and she held a bit of her white stripe of hair. Curling it and uncurling it around her fingers. The way she did when she was contemplating something.

She was dressed almost as precariously as the cliff. Only a sports bra and shorts that cut off an inch or two above mid-thigh.

Remy let out a gasp. He had never seen so much of Marie before. It felt odd, and yet, he knew he wanted to see her like this more often. So carefree and wild.

Marie didn't say anything for quite a few minutes. She simply floated an inch off the ground and continued to fiddle with her hair.

"You didn't have to come, you know?" she whispered softly. Her soft Mississippi accent appearing in her distracted tone.

Remy smiled at that. He wanted more than anything to walk up to her and grab her hand. Tell her there's no place he'd rather be.

He didn't, though. Remy knew it would only hurt her. To have her know someone wanted her so badly, and she couldn't do a single thing about it.

"Party was getting a bit slow. Figured I'd come check up on my best gal."

Rogue scoffed, "Well, Storm ain't here so just leave."

Remy chuckled and called out in his soothing Cajun tongue, "Non, cher. My best gal is much stronger than Ororo. Believe it or not."

Marie rubbed her exposed arms subconsciously as she felt Remy step closer to her, "No, Rem. I'm really not. I want more than anything... to kiss ya. I can't though. I know I can't. That's what makes this so damn hard."