Blueshift

Blueshift Chapter Eleven (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… *twirls* Just a few months now! InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink and Dracena are loverly and wondermous for archiving/hosting. :) ProPhile: Next chapter. :) Morgan: *glomp * Readers/Reviewers: ReiMars, whither art thou? And thanks a zillion times over to the rest of you for reading/reviewing. :)

Magneto barely stifled a disgusted noise as he took a sip from the mug Tarot had set in front of him. ‘This,” he said after a long moment of silence, “is vile.”
“It’s Yerba mate1,” she informed him, pushing it back across the table. “It’s good for you.” She snapped her linen napkin open with a flick of her wrist and laid it across her lap. “It’s healthier than coffee and with Incubus gone, you need all the health you can get.”
Magneto raised a brow. “Incubus is none of your business,” he said softly with a distinctive edge. “Nor is my health.” He dabbed at his lips with his napkin and shifted his attention to Pietro, just entering with a plate full of eggs and pancakes. “Ah, good, you’re awake. I need to speak with you about something.”
Tarot stiffened immediately but otherwise appeared interested in her fruit salad. “Yeah?” Pietro asked around a mouthful of food, then pausing to swallow hard. “I mean, yes, sir?” He glanced sideways at Tarot and frowned at her still demeanor but did not shift his attention away from his father. Magneto had been on a hair trigger since the media debacle, branded as not only eccentric but insane by most, his credibility ruined in all but the most paranoid eyes. He felt it was best not to test the old man’s temper and to be as polite as he could humanly manage for the foreseeable future.
“There’s been a new addition to the Institute. Take Fred and bring me as much information as you can on this Mark Thorne.” Magneto sipped the Yerba mate again and frowned. “It doesn’t improve as it cools.”
Pietro paused with a forkful of pancakes halfway to his mouth. “Fred?” he finally managed. “Blob-Fred? Fred Dukes, world’s slowest man?”
“I don’t believe that’s his selling point but yes, Fred Dukes,” Magneto replied, pushing the mug aside and eyeing it warily. “He’s an unknown quantity in this situation and I do not like being caught off guard.”
Pietro pushed his breakfast aside and leaned towards his father. “But…Fred? I can’t go recon with Fred!” Gesturing at Tarot, he said, “Let me take her instead, please…” At his father’s raised brow and Tarot’s vague choking sound, Pietro explained, “She’s good at the whole sneaking thing!”
Tarot sniffed and pushed the last grape around on her plate a bit sadly. “Glad to know I have more than one purpose for this family.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Pietro shifted in his seat to face her. “You’re sounding like all you do is tag along. That’s bull…” he was hyperaware of Magneto then. “That’s bull,” he finished lamely.
She stood and took up her plate and glass of juice. “I’ll be down in the lab. We were able to get samples from both Wanda and Tabby. I think the serum is almost ready for testing,” she said as if she had not heard Pietro at all, leaving the room on a waft of cold anger.
Magneto stood and dropped his napkin next to his plate. “Tarot is otherwise occupied. Take Fred. And when you’re done, report back here. No later than five pm today. And,” he added before leaving Pietro alone in the dining room, “you’re staying at the Boardinghouse from here on out. It’s not good for morale to have you here.”
Pietro waited until the door swung closed behind his father before shoving his plate away. “Damn it!”

“You know that’s for throwing up,” Lance muttered, nodding at the bag Amara clutched tightly in her hands.
“I know,” she replied through clenched teeth. “Which is what I’m going to do in just a moment. As soon as I’m no longer paralyzed in fear…” She promptly became very ill into the paper bag.
Lance made a face and tried to ignore her as best he could, failing miserably. “Princess,” he said urgently, “we can go back… it’s not too late. We can go back and later, we can take you to Nova Roma, me and Logan or somethin’…”
Amara glared at him balefully and hit the call button for the flight attendant. “No,” she bit out after a moment of silence in which she looked as if she might just use the third and last airsickness bag in the space of five minutes. “No one knows we’re gone yet. I want this to be private… this is mine.”
Lance sighed and settled back in his seat, wincing as she hiccoughed. “How’re you so sure no one knows?” he asked after a moment, glancing out the window to see a mountain range far below. He did not mind flying so much… he just wished it were closer to the ground. “I mean… they’re going to notice we’re gone soon. It’s breakfast back home and they’re going to look for us when we don’t show up.”
“I don’t think even Storm can catch up to us now,” Amara said, smiling to herself. “We’re half way across the country. By tonight we’ll be in South America and then…” she spread her fingers wide as if letting grains of sand slip through them. “Then Nova Roma.”
Lance shifted restlessly. “Um… I kind of left a note for Todd,” he muttered. “Just a short one…” He felt rather than saw her look at him sharply. “We’re roommates! He’d notice!” He slid down further in his seat, his long legs uncomfortably crunched within the row.
“Well,” she said slowly, “then we’ll be found out sooner that we planned.” She sounded remarkably calm, even to her own ears. The closer she got to Nova Roma, the better she felt. “When we reach the palace,” she added blithely, “all will be forgiven.”
Lance nodded slowly. “Right… um, you sure about that? I mean, your father and all…” He shrugged. “Jus’ sayin’, you know?”
Amara sighed. “My return will be nothing short of miraculous, and when I tell them of the wonders I have seen…” Her smile grew more dream like and she almost thanked the flight attendant who stopped to pick up the bags, ignoring her obvious distaste. “They will welcome us both with open arms and feasting and maybe even a parade… I do love a good parade. Especially in the summer…” She sighed happily and pulled her blanket up to her shoulders, closing her eyes.
“Uh, it’s dead winter, Princess…”
“Not at home,” she murmured, already drifting off. “Not in Nova Roma. There, it is always summer and spring. It is always beautiful…”
Lance felt a knot work it’s way into his stomach and settle like a lump of lead. Nova Roma was starting to sound more and more like purgatory every time she spoke of it. He tried to close his eyes and sleep but all he could picture was a Roman circus with himself as the lion’s hors d’ouvre.

1 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yerba_mate