Blueshift

Blueshift Chapter Thirty Three (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… expect a LOT of HHNF in the morning… InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink and Dracena are loverly and wondermous for archiving/hosting. :) ProPhile: Slash next chapter. Avert your eyes. Morgan: *GLOMP * Readers/Reviewers: Yes, more action soon. Yes, more smut soon. And I already told you about the few updates in the coming week so….wheeee.



“Nathaniel, what the Hell are you doing?” Magneto asked conversationally, not even glancing up from the paperwork on his desktop. It never ceased to amaze him that, given all the marvelous advancements in technology and society, the amount of red tape to go through for starting a simple business was still paperbased and enormously time consuming. “While you’re up, hand me that blue folder please, thank you.”
Essex grabbed the item from the file cabinet by the door and crossed angrily to Magneto. “There is someone in your house!”
“There’s many someones in my house,” he replied mildly, pressing a sticky note to the page he had been working on and leaning back in his chair. “You, Mystique, Sabretooth, Fred, Pietro, Tarot, myself…” He raised a brow and the metal door slammed shut behind Essex, secluding them. “Are you feeling alright, Nathaniel?”
Essex was pacing furiously, his coattails flapping behind him as if to punctuate his agitation. “Eric, don’t be a fool. There is someone in this place. Spying on us!” He turned sharply and pointed an accusing finger at Magneto. “If I did not know any better, I would say you were complicit in this deception!”
“I think it’s high time we had a discussion about your propensity for drama,” Magneto said smoothly, standing. A chair skittered across the floor and slid behind Essex, pushing against his legs and forcing him to sit down. “And by we, I mean me. You do not come into my house and accuse me of harboring a spy. You do not come into my house and attempt to wrest control of the Brotherhood from me. We had a deal, Nathaniel. If you are telling me you would like out of it, say it plainly. I am not in the mood for a Victorian dance around the obvious in order to be polite at the expense of honesty.” Magneto did not look at Essex as he spoke but instead seemed engrossed in a stack of metal shavings, some sort of miniature modern art gracing the top of the sideboard running the length of his office. As he turned his back on it, it collapsed into a pile of debris, no less artistic but obviously back in it’s natural state.
Nathaniel wanted to storm from the room but he restrained himself. Smoothing his trousers discreetly, he stood and smiled, a small and deceitful expression that was obviously merely symbolic. “Forgive me if my concern for our—your—safety, especially in light of recent events, both planned and unplanned, has manifested itself as impoliteness.” He nodded his head in a sketch of a bow and turned to leave the room, silently fuming.
“Nathaniel,” Magneto said softly, so quietly the name was barely a breath. “I appreciate your concern. If there is a spy amongst us, they will not be long for their career or this world.”
“There is something I did not tell you,” the other man said just as softly. “In town this morning, I was recognized.” He turned to face Magneto again, leveling a bland, challenging gaze at him.
“Recognized?” Magneto asked idly, despite the spike of annoyance throbbing in his chest. “By whom?”
“By a young man I once knew back in England. The details are best left for another time but he recognized me. He knows who I am, what I am… and he knows I’m near.” Essex opened one hand as if to say ‘so now what?’ but did not voice the question. “I was on Main, coming from that deplorable little bookstore,” he began, but paused, then smiled. “Forgive me. Oversharing.”
Magneto ran a finger along the sideboard, watching it’s progress against the burnished metal surface, his body heat leaving a faint trail of smudges which faded quickly. He wondered if that was some allegory for his life but decided to save the maudlin introspection for another time. “Will he be a problem?”
Essex thought for a long moment, considering all he knew. “Yes.”
“Then we’ll take care of it.” Magneto did not look up as the door swung open. “Pietro, come in here please.”
Essex did not show his surprise as Pietro, who had apparently been waiting just outside the door, strode in as if he had great purpose. “Fred and I weren’t able to find out much,” he began, his hair covering the bump on his forehead he received from running into the bookshelves when Mark surprised him. “They have a new librarian but I think he’s a norm… Seemed real twitchy…”
Magneto raised a brow. “That’s nice. I have another task for you. This requires Tarot’s expertise in information gathering. You are to go with her into town. Doctor Essex will provide you with a description to work with. Find the man in question and…” he paused, smiling. “Let Tarot do her job.”
Pietro frowned, his brows drawing together. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Essex laughed under his breath and Magneto smiled at his son. “She’ll understand. Also, tell Mystique that her presence is required posthaste in the lab.”
“Oh… she’s gone for the day, she said. Somethin’ about going into town,” Pietro shrugged. “Probably shopping,” he added, snorting. He still did not understand how a woman who spent so much time in a state of undress could spend so much money on shoes.
Magneto became very still. “Oh?”
Essex glanced at his friend and his smile became edged. “I’ll keep an eye out for her, Eric,” he practically purred. “No worries.”
Pietro edged out of the room, sensing his orders were given and no more would be said to him. He did not like the vague nature of them nor did he like the distinct feeling he was being used. _Maybe Tarot will know what’s up, _ he thought, knowing it for a false hope.