Gambit of course nibbled on the fritter, made a face and then bit a bigger piece off, saying in a lazy playful voice, “’ad to taste a bi’ more t’ make sure it was real good petite,” he’d noticed that the man had just taken it from a pile of others, so he didn’t have any problems with eating it, and due to the way he was behaving, he didn’t let on that he had a pretty good notion of what was going on in the little girl’s head. He then turned and picked up the banana one, as he’d nibbled first on the pineapple one, and muttered out, “tastes good, jus’ like fruit covered in a pancake,” which was pretty close to what it was, but not quite as the batter mix was slightly different and of course deep fried, which took away the healthy fact from the fruit in the first place, but still Gambit’s way of thinking about it was, it was fruit, therefore good for a child.
The Cajun was a whole lot of things, that most would shudder and whisper about if they ever knew but one thing he was not, and one thing he would never be was a ‘kiddy fiddler’ that kind of thing had happened to him as a very young child, in fact way before he was eight years old, and he would never wish such to happen to another. Of course Gambit, unlike Ororo or Stormy as he would always call her, and always truly see her as, would never see any of the shady things he did as wrong or bad, just not the same as others wanted to do, which was of course their problem not his. He didn’t have any need or wish to pave his way into heaven, as some would as they got older and reflected on a life of crime, he didn’t believe in such a place and really if he did, well then he’d also believe he was the devil that all had told him he was every since he could remember.
Never being one to force anyone else to do anything, Gambit was more than willing to sit around and let her not do anything but he was kind of aware she would sit on his lap in time, and when she did, he got an all too amused look on his face as she managed to hide herself more than well in his extremely large coat. Chuckling as bits of chicken and spicy potato wedges were snatched up and disappeared into his coat, he did whisper down inside of it, “if’n yah ge’ yo’self a belly ache from all da’ bone chewin’ ya be doin’ don’ y’ blame Gambit.”
Of course he did realize the stripped bones were being slipped back onto the plate as something else was being taken, but he pretended he didn’t notice that happening. He was nearly finished with his own food, but stopped to drink some of the coke, looked out the window and sighed a little sigh, “more rain, no’ gonna be all too warm on da streets, y’ t’ink mebbe y’ would like to come wit’ Gambit to an ‘otel? Can be lottsa fun dere petite, ge’ da peoples all wonderin’ wha’ yo’se gonna be up too.”