Chapter Text
Gambit stood to the side of the hallway, Miss Minutes next to his shoulder, and watched some of the TVA’s scientists and lab technicians carry a securely locked box through a time door.
“Easy, guys. Don’t wanna drop it…” Mobius muttered as he and B-15 oversaw the proceedings.
Two of the scientists, dressed in orange hazmat suits, eased the containment box down to the floor so they could get a better grip on it. Three hunters, time sticks in hand, came through behind them, and the time door blinked out of existence.
“Take that box to Lab B7 and secure it,” B-15 ordered. “We can’t risk it getting loose.”
The men acknowledged her orders and proceeded to carry whatever it was to the elevator.
“Wha’ is it?” Gambit whispered to the orange cartoon clock beside him.
Miss Minutes shrugged. “Somethin’ they found ta be uh threat to tha timelines.”
The clock’s answer was less than satisfactory for the young Cajun. He stared at the silver containment box until it disappeared, along with the scientists and hunters, when the elevator doors closed. Gambit pursed his lips, the curiosity inside him building.
“Remy.”
Pulled from his thoughts, he looked up at his closest friend and adopted mother.
“Ah don’t like tha way yer’re lookin’.” Miss Minutes fixed him with a stern glare, hands on hips.
The Cajun fingered the deck of cards in his hands. “Ah ain’t gon’ do nuttin’, petite.”
“Make sure ya don’t. Tha research labs are dangerous places that are off limits. Besides, ya can easily mess up delicate work there.”
Gambit nodded. “Yes’m.”
She reached out, grabbed Gambit’s chin, and turned him to face her. “Ah wanna know ya ain’t gunna do anythin’ stupid.”
He frowned. “‘Course not.”
“Is he giving you trouble?”
Gambit turned his eyes to B-15 and then to Mobius standing behind her.
“Nothin’ ah can’t handle,” Miss Minutes replied.
B-15 lingered while she sized up the Cajun. “The labs are off limits.” She pointed a finger directly at him. “Is that understood?”
Gambit nodded as he turned his gaze to the floor.
“Don’t worry. He knows he’ll get uh spankin’ if he does anythin’ he ain’t supposed ta do.” Miss Minutes flopped his hair. “Ain’t that right, Remy?”
With his cheeks burning red, Gambit said, “Yes’m.”
B-15 nodded her approval. “Glad to hear it.”
He turned his eyes to B-15. “Ah ain’t gon’ set foot in no lab, cher. Dey give me de frissons.”
“See that you don’t,” said B-15. “You already know that Mobius and Miss Minutes gave me permission to spank you if I ever see fit. If I catch you in that lab, I guarantee it won’t end well for you. Do I make myself clear?”
Gambit swallowed and nodded. “Crystal.”
B-15 had had her doubts about Gambit when he’d first arrived, questioning if it was wise to keep the mutant as a permanent resident within the TVA. Over time, however, she found herself softening. The Cajun was beginning to grow on her since he had an uncanny knack for lighting up the place with his charm and wit.
She gave him a small smile. “I just don’t want anything bad happening to you.”
He returned the smile.
B-15 glanced at Mobius and left.
Gambit turned his gaze down at the cards in his hands.
“Are you gonna be good?”
He lifted his eyes to Mobius. Nodding, he replied, “Yessir.” Frowning, he added, “Why everyone t’ink ah gon’ do somet’in’ stupid?”
Smiling, Mobius booped the mutant’s nose with the tip of his finger. “Because we know you.”
“Ah ain’t gon’ set foot in no labs. Dey evil an’ bring back bad memories, yah. Jus’ like de one Sinister used.” He glanced at the elevator. “Ah jus’ wanna know wha’ dat t’ing dey caught is.”
“I dunno,” Mobius answered. “They didn’t tell me what it was. Said it was confidential.”
“Dey tellin’ you it confidential?”
Mobius shrugged. “Some things the labs do are secret even to me.” He patted Gambit’s arm. “I need to get back to work. I’ll see you later tonight for dinner.” He got on the elevator and was gone, leaving Gambit and Miss Minutes alone.
“Come on,” said Miss Minutes softly as she held out her hand to him. Gambit took it carefully and allowed her to lead him down the hallway.
“Where we goin’?” he asked.
“Ah’ve got some work ta do. Ya can come with me if’n ya want.”
“‘Kay, Momma.”
Miss Minutes smiled. She loved hearing him call her that. “Ah needa go ta one of tha filin’ rooms. Someone dropped uh drawer.” She rolled her eyes.
“Dat all?”
“Borin’, ah know.” Miss Minutes pushed the elevator button, and the doors slid open. They stepped inside.
“At least we get ta spend time t’gether.”
The clock skritched his cheek. “That’s why ah wuz hopin’ ya would join me.”
When they walked into the filing room, their eyes swept over the mass of scattered files in the middle of the floor, leading up to where the drawer was flipped upside down in front of the cabinet it had come out of.
“Drat,” Miss Minutes mumbled.
“Last time ah saw a mess like dis is when de clocklin’s got loose.”
“They haven’t gotten outta tha nursery as far as ah know. Someone else did this.”
“Someone, dey really make a big ol’ mess, yah.”
The clock didn’t say anything as she began gathering up files.
“Why ain’t dey here cleanin’ dis up? If it’d been me, ya woulda whupped my butt an’ told me ta clean my mess up.”
“Ah wouldn’t whoop yer butt if it wuz an accident.”
“Mais, ya woulda made me clean it up.”
“True.”
“Dere sure lotta files in dis place.”
“Whut can ya expect? There’ve been uh lot of variants taken from tha timeline.”
Gambit walked around, nudging some of the files with the toe of his boot. “Dese files…”
“Are variants tha TVA has taken from tha timeline.”
“Why ain’t dey in de library?”
“We keep multiple copies of files, and there are file rooms scattered around on different floors for convenience.”
Gambit picked up one of the files and opened it. He sucked in a breath and dropped it.
“Whut’s wrong?”
“Nuttin’.”
“Somethin’s gotta be wrong fer ya ta drop it like uh hot tater.” Miss Minutes flew down and picked up the file. Inside was a picture of a Sinister variant—grim and gruesome, like some kind of vampire. Her eyes flitted to Gambit and back to the photo. She closed the file and put it away on top of one of the filing cabinets. She tickled his cheek. “Why don’cha gather some of those files over there for me?” she said softly.
Gambit nodded. Instead of doing as she requested, however, he stepped forward and picked up the Sinister file again and opened it. He stared at the photo, his eyes scanning over the information on the page: variant ID, race, height, gender, etc…
“Hun, ya don’t needa be lookin’ at that.” Miss Minutes closed the file and took it from his trembling hands again. “It doesn’t concern ya.” She pushed the file under a stack of others. Smiling, she massaged Gambit’s ear and whispered, “He ain’t here. He’s been dealt with.”
“He torture Gambit,” he said in a small voice.
Miss Minutes forced a smile. “He ain’t gunna torture ya no more.” She smoothed his hair. “If he comes anywhere near ya, ah’ll spank him.”
Gambit smiled lopsidedly. “Ya mean it?”
She kissed his cheek. “Come on. We needa get these files picked up an’ sort out this dang mess.”
“Ah jus’ be happy if’n Doc Clock jab needles in his butt…painfully.”
Miss Minutes giggled.
“It ain’t funny, petite. It payback for wha’ he did ta me.”
She hugged his head.
Gambit joined the clock in gathering up the files. Ever since Miss Minutes rescued him from The Void, brought him back to the TVA, and adopted him, he’d felt more at peace than he ever had in his life. Something about the clock made him feel safe and secure and gave him comfort. After seeing Sinister’s file, however, an unmistakable chill coursed through the mutant, as if his comfort had been violated.
“Momma…” he suddenly called out weakly, and he hated himself for it. After all, he was supposed to be strong, right?
“Whut’s wrong, sugah?”
He whimpered. “Ah know ah ain’t s’posed ta be, mais ah scared.” He looked up at her with big, watery eyes. “It wrong for me ta be scared? Ah’m a mutant after all.”
“Aww, baby. Come here.”
He walked over and stood next to the clock.
She ran her hand through his hair and hugged his face, kissing his cheek. “No, it ain’t wrong, sweetie. Everyone gets scared sometimes. Ya might be uh mutant, but yer’re still human, and fear is uh natural human feelin’.”
“Ah scared Sinister’s gon’ take me ‘way again,” he mumbled.
“Ya have every right ta be scared.”
“Ah s’pose ta be strong, tho.”
“You’ve been strong fer too long, hun. Ah think it’s time ya started feelin’ human again.” She smoothed back his hair. “If ya keep it inside, yer’ll eventually overload an’ burnout. Ah told ya no one here is gunna judge ya.”
“Ah ain’t wanna act like no baby…”
“Bein’ scared doesn’t make ya uh baby. It jus’ makes ya human.”
“Ya sure?”
She smiled. “Positive.”
He put his thumb in his mouth and stared at the floor.
Her smile widened. “But there ain’t nothin’ fer ya ta be afraid of. Sinister ain’t here, darlin’. Yer’re safe. Tha TVA’s security ain’t gunna let him in here.”
He nuzzled her.
“How about ah give ya some pamperin’ after we’re done here?”
He took his thumb out of his mouth. “Massage?”
“Whutever ya want, sweetheart.”
“Ah guess ah spoilt, huh?”
“Someone as cute as you deserves ta be spoiled.” She skritched his chin.
Gambit’s cheeks flushed just a hint of red.
“Besides, ya deserve it after tha life you’ve been through.” She booped his nose. “Jus’ don’t go turnin’ into uh spoiled brat.”
“Ah doubt dat. Ya ain’t gon’ let me turn into no brat. Yer’ll paddle me fo’ dat happens.”
Miss Minutes giggled. “Ya got that right. Ah’ll paddle that lil’ heinie good.”
Gambit scrunched up his face when the clock kissed the tip of his nose. Quickly, Miss Minutes flew behind him and began gathering up more files.
Gambit picked up and opened another file and scanned the page. It was for a guy named Georges Batroc. “Ah ain’t gettin’ no more o’ dem spankin’s.”
She rolled her eyes. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”
“Ah mean it. Ah ain’t gettin’ no mo’.”
She playfully swatted his backside with a file.
Startled, he looked over his shoulder. “Hey! Wha’ ya doin’?”
She flew around in front of him. “Don’t make promises ya can’t keep, hun.”
“Ya t’ink ah can’t keep it?”
“We’ll see.” She smirked.
“It look like whoever done dis not only dropped de drawer, mais dey got everyt’in’ outta order too.”
“Whut d’ya mean?”
He held up the file in his hand. “Dis for some guy named Batroc. Quite a ways from Nathaniel Essex if dey s’posed ta be in alphabetical order.”
Miss Minutes rolled her eyes and took the file. She opened it, and then she glanced around. Picking up another file, she opened it. She opened another one and another one.
“Wait uh cotton pickin’ minute. This drawer IS tha B’s. It’s Sinister’s file that’s outta place.”
A chill ran down Gambit. “Why his outta place?”
“Ah dunno.” Her eyes flitted to the Cajun, noting he was getting nervous again. “Could be fer uh number of reasons. Someone probably misplaced it. Ah wouldn’t go worryin’ ‘bout it none, sugah.” Changing the subject, she said, “Speakin’ of pamperin’. Ya still need ta let me bottle feed ya.”
Gambit handed her an armload of files. “Non! Ya already done dat when ah wuz turned into a baby. Ya ain’t gonna humiliate me now.”
She laughed. “Why not? No one will know.” She kissed his cheek before taking the files from his hands. “Ya already suck yer thumb an’ uh pacifier. Why not let me pamper ya with uh bottle? Hm? Jus’ uh lil’ warm milk before bed?”
Scowling, Gambit put his hand on her face and shushed her. He glanced around. “Dat ain’t fo’ everyone’s ears, cher!” His mouth twitched. “Sir Seconds migh’ be listenin’.”
She pushed his hand away. “So?” she said teasingly.
He frowned. “Ah ain’t wan’ de whole TVA ta know!”
“Tha TVA ain’t gunna know.”
“It will if’n ya keep blabbin’ it! De walls in dis place have ears.”
She skritched his chin. “Ya looked so cute suckin’ yer bottle when ya were uh baby. Ah know you’d be utterly adorable suckin’ on it now.”
He batted her hand away. “Ah ain’t gon’ drink outta no baby’s bottle!” he groused. “Gambit old nuff ta drink liquor, cher!”
“Which ya ain’t gunna do, because it’s bad fer ya.”
He frowned. “Gambit do wha’ he want!”
“Remy!” She scowled and waggled her finger at him. “Don’t ya back-talk yer momma like that, young man.”
Fear washed over the Cajun’s face as he stared up at her.
“Ya keep that attitude up an’ yer’ll get more of those spankin’s ya swore ya weren’t gunna get anymore of.”
He swallowed. “Yes’m.” He turned away and busied himself with gathering files, dropping the subject before he pushed himself into a spot he didn’t want to find himself in. “Ah ain’t drinkin’ outta no baby bottle, tho!” he said over his shoulder.
Miss Minutes swatted his backside with a file.
He straightened up and dropped every file he’d picked up, putting his hands behind him to shield his bottom. He gave the clock a side-eyed look over his shoulder.
She giggled.
He stuck his tongue out at her.
“Ah-ah.” She waggled her finger. “None of that cheekiness.”
“Or wha’? Ya gon’ paddle me?”
“Yer’re askin’ fer it.” She laughed. “If’n ya want, ah can pull yer britches down right here an’ warm yer bottom.”
The color drained from Gambit’s face, and he glanced toward the open door. Someone walked by out in the hallway.
“Please don’. Ya know ah jus’ messin’ wit’cha.”
She waggled her finger again. “Ya make sure that’s all ya do, mister.” She kissed his cheek. “Now, let’s get ta work so ya can eat dinner with Mobius. Ah reckon it’ll take us until then ta get these back in order.”
“Ya promised a massage after we tru here.”
“Yes, ah did. Tha sooner we get these files in order tha sooner we can get to that massage.”
From that point on, both worked diligently to get the file room back in order, neither of them saying much as they sorted through folders and painstakingly put each one back in order as they should be. Hours passed, and finally, the job was complete. The only one left that didn’t belong was Nathaniel Essex’s file—aka Mr. Sinister.
“Ah still don’ unnerstand why his gotta be here. It can’ be no coincidence.”
“Ah dunno, but it ain’t important.” Miss Minutes found the drawer it belonged in and put it back in its place. “There.” She slammed the drawer shut. “It’s outta tha way an’ outta sight.”
“But…” He walked forward and pulled the drawer out, retrieving the file again. Instantly, it lit up pink.
“Remy!” The clock flew to his side. “Don’t ya dare.”
Gambit held it out of her reach.
“Whut is that gunna solve?”
He stared hard at the file in his hand, charged to explode at his will. Nothing. It would solve nothing. He sighed, and the pink glow faded.
“It ain’t gon’ solve nuttin’,” he said under his breath as he handed the file to her. Miss Minutes took it and put it back in the drawer. “Ah rather blow up Sinister hisself.”
“Remy! For shame! Ah don’t wanna hear ya talk like that!” She grabbed his hand and smacked it, making him jump. She pointed a scolding finger at him. “Revenge doesn’t solve anythin’. It jus’ brings ya down ta their level of nastiness.”
Gambit sighed. He knew she was right, but he’d be lying to himself if he said he wouldn’t get pleasure out of seeing Sinister blow up.
Miss Minutes grabbed his coat collar and turned him around. “We’re gunna go get that massage and then we’re gunna meet Mobius in tha cafeteria.”
“Can we have burgers ‘n’ fries?”
“Of course! If’n ya behave yerself.”
He grinned cheekily. “Gambit always behave.”
Miss Minutes laughed. “Yeah, right.” She pinched his nose. “Yer’re uh lil’ scamp, an’ ya know it.”
He rubbed his nose against her. “Dat’s why ya love me, yah.”
She giggled. “That an’ yer’re jus’ tha cutest lil’ pookie bear.”
Later that evening, Mobius walked up to the cafeteria table that Gambit and Miss Minutes were seated at. His hair was mussed up, his tie loosened and hanging around his neck, and a weary look on his face.
“I see you had the same idea I had about hamburgers.” He set down his tray and pulled out a chair.
Gambit turned a smile to him as he put a French fry in his mouth. “Hey! Comment ça s’plume?”
“Not well. Tired,” Mobius replied as he plopped down in his chair. He ran his hand through his hair and mussed it up more. “Not just tired. Exhausted. It’s been a rough day.”
“Tell me ‘bout it. Ya shoulda seen de mess o’ files we hadda sort t’ru.”
“Is everythin’ goin’ well with that box tha scientists brought in?” Miss Minutes asked.
“As far as I know.”
“Ya ever find out wha’ it is?” Gambit asked.
Mobius chuckled. “No, and I’ll probably never know.” He pointed at the Cajun as he leaned forward. “You need to get your mind on something else and stop thinking about it.”
Gambit shrugged. “Jus’ askin’ is all.”
“I can tell your mind is curious.” Mobius tore open a packet of ketchup. “And that usually leads to trouble. Trust me, I know. I’ve worked with Lokis.”
Gambit frowned. “Ah ain’t gon’ get in no trouble. Ah told ya, ah ain’t gon’ near no labs.”
“Good.” Mobius pointed at Gambit’s plate. “Eat. Afterward, you’re going straight to bed.”
Gambit’s mouth fell open. “Why?? Ah go ta bed when ah’m ready! Gambit ain’t no child!”
Mobius fixed him with a glare. “Because you’ve got an early mission in The Void tomorrow.”
“Oh.”
“We’ve spotted more variants that need you to rescue them at the earliest possible time.”
“Ah think someone needs ta get in bed anyway,” said Miss Minutes. “He’s been grumpy all afternoon.”
“Ah have not!” Gambit snapped.
“Hey, hey,” Mobius gently warned. “That’s enough. I’m not too tired to take you over my knee before I put you to bed.”
Gambit shifted his eyes to Mobius.
“You want a sore butt to sleep on?”
The Cajun shook his head and glanced at Miss Minutes. “Désolé,” he mumbled.
Mobius squeezed his arm. “What’s wrong, bud?”
Gambit nibbled a fry. “Ah jus’ scared…” he muttered.
Mobius tilted his head. “Aw. Scared? Of what?”
The mutant stared at his plate, refusing to speak.
A warm smile formed on Mobius’ mouth as he reached out and smoothed Gambit’s hair. “What could possibly scare our big, brave Cajun? Hm?”
Gambit shifted in his seat as he ate another fry.
“We found uh file outta place while cleanin’ up tha mess,” Miss Minutes answered for him. “Uh file for uh Sinister variant.” She walked forward and combed her hand through Gambit’s hair. “It spooked him pretty bad.”
“Out of place? What do you mean?”
“Tha drawer we had ta clean up was tha B’s, but somehow Sinister’s file got mixed into them. Ah told him someone musta misplaced it.”
Mobius squeezed Gambit’s arm again. “Don’t worry, buddy,” he whispered. “Sinister’s not gonna get ya here.”
“That’s whut ah keep tellin’ him.”
“Ah still ‘fraid…” Gambit mumbled. He looked at Mobius shyly. “Ah guess ya t’ink Gambit mauviette.”
Mobius threw him a look of compassion and shook his head. “I don’t think that at all,” he whispered.
Gambit’s mouth tightened. “Sissy…” he muttered.
“Stop it,” Mobius scolded gently. He patted the mutant’s arm. “You want me to stay with you tonight?”
Gambit raised his eyes to look at the older man. He wrinkled his nose. “Non. Ah ain’t dat scared.” In afterthought, he added, “T’anks anyway, tho.”
“Miss Minutes sleeps with you every night. She’s not gonna let anyone get ya.” Mobius smiled. “Why don’t you let her sing that Cajun lullaby to you? That always brings you comfort.”
Gambit smiled and nodded.
“Now, let’s get to work on these hamburgers.”