It was hard to explain this kind of joy, even to herself in order to gain perspective. As a telepath, Jean knew some things went far deeper than words would ever touch. Emotions moved people just as profoundly as gravity, and could brighten or darken them even more than a weather pattern. There was a rapture in it; getting to spend an hour with a friend so old and so dear that she could have laughed and teased and enjoyed Remy all night. How many nights had they spent within their group, doing just that? Countless. How many battles had they fought together, trudging onto the Blackbird dirty and bloody and half-beaten, but victorious? Countless more. But therein lied the rub: being around him, she thought of the others. 

The were the X-Men. They were a group. Remy had always been indepdendent than many of them, but even he had finally succumbed to the pull of that close-knit family. Maybe Remy would never have that again, maybe he would, but Jean had seen her possibile futures: and precious few of them included her ever rejoining that group, that family. She thought of Hank, of Ororo, of Kitty, Bobby, Charles, Scott, Logan--even some of the kids like Jubilee and Julian. Quite frankly, it was a miserable thought, never getting to have those people and that joy in her life again. That this, here and now, might be as close as she ever came to it.

"You messin' with my head 'gain, Red?"

Jean smiled sweetly. "I've never needed my powers to do that, Cajun."

His brows furrowed, his lips muttering something under his breath, black and red eyes narrowing at the cards in his right hand once more, his left clanking clay poker chips against each other in a stack that was starting to get desperately small. A small labored sigh, an even smaller shrug, and the Cajun tossed three black chips into the already sizeable pot huddled in the center of the worn green felt of the bar's backroom. "Raise you one-fitty. So dis Death...she go poof, and you jus' come on back? Dat easy?"

"Well, I'm not sure I'd call death easy."

That seemed to pique the Cajun's interest. "Why? Cold 'n lonely, Chere? Remy warm you up," he said, with that smug gambler's grin of his.

Jean gave him a bemused glance, before returning her eyes to her cards and putting some effort into appearing conflicted with her call; hesitating to answer him as if considering the math between her hand, the possible hand she may draw from the last card to drop on the table, and whether it was worth matching his aggressive bet. Only after a half minute did she quickly reach out, take up three black chips of her own, and toss them into the pot. "Oh, it's not the dying that's so bad, Remy, it's the coming back. Nothingness is sweet, life is harsh."

The Cajun snorted gently. "Not as harsh as dis hand." 

Jean tried not to smirk as Gambit calculated his own options; or more probably, knowing Remy, argued between his gut instinct and his better sense. "Any day, now, Remy. We have people headed for us."

Red eyes glanced up at her once more, no trace of that grin left. "...what you mean?"

"The 'Death go poof' was part of a greater cosmic chain of events--"

"--ain't it always?"

Jean continued, despite her chuckle. "There's a group of heroes gathering to do something about it. You and I are on the invite list."

The Gambit [i]tsked[/i] his all-too casual disapproval, before reaching over to the deck, 'burning' a card, and flipping over the next onto the table face-up. Queen of Hearts. "...you do dis to me t'punish me." Jean tried not to smile at his frown. A mostly successful attempt, as she put down her two cards, making a Royal Straight between the two cards and the community cards on the table. He had a pair of Jacks, she saw, as he tossed down his hand in mild frustration, before taking a long drink of his drink. "Aah, dere, now what if I dun feel up to dis cosmic mission?"

Her green eyes laughed at him, silently. "Please, coming from the hero that moonlights as a thief, I know you can't pass up something this dangerous."

"I moonlight as a hero, Red," when he was done scoffing, he was left only with her long look. The grin came back to his lips almost instantly, as they were interrupted, the room having cleared out an hour ago when their private game started--Jean made certain of that. When the door opened, Jean didn't bother looking up, though Remy threw a quick glance over his shoulder, already having been snuck up on once today. 

"Heeey, Mr. Gambit-dude..."

"Mista?" More insulted than surprised, Gambit looked back to Jean, who snickered, before returning his eyes to the guy in the red jacket. "Who dis guy? Han Yolo?"

The blonde man hid both his confusion, and then when he realized what the Cajun had said, his slight offense. "No, man, I'm...Star Lord."

This time, Jean and Remy said it at the same time. "Who?"

Before he could do much than grunt frustration, Jean Grey was standing, feeling having gotten to the start of her third gin and tonic. "We're screwing with you."

"...I'm not, who dis guy?"

"Star Lord, man. St-ar, L-ord."

Jean interjected. "He's the recruiter."

That prompted Remy to turn just-so in his chair, so he could get a better look at this 'Star Lord' from over his shoulder. "Nice jacket."

"Oh, yeah, thanks. You too, bro. Don't see to many people rockin' the trench these days. Who's she?"

This time, it was Jean with the gambler's grin. "Jean Grey, otherwise known as Mar--"

"HOLY SHIT YOU'RE THE PHOENIX. Don't dust me."

Remy stirred from his seat, stretching to full height, eyeing Star Lord. "Talk about dis coat one more time, and she might."

"Remy!"

The Cajun smiled, innocent as a thief in the shadows. "What?"