Blueshift

Blueshift Chapter Four (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta…I have a poppet for you. *G * InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink and Dracena are loverly and wondermous for archiving/hosting. :) ProPhile: *random glomp * Morgan: Get the PAL thing sorted out? Readers/Reviewers: Until I get this grad school thing sorted out, there might be some delays in posting chapters. But at least the grad school thing will be sorted out, lol. So thanks for reading and thanks to the one reviewer, lol. *glomp *

Todd scratched his ankle idly. The meeting was dull as dishwater and he was tired. He always got tired when it was cold out, no matter how much sleep or caffeine he had. Professor Xavier was going on and on about how Logan might have been located, not through Cerebro but rather through a tiny blurb in a Canadian newspaper about cage fighting making a comeback in the more rural towns, particularly in the more northern reaches of civilization. Kitty had been tasked with verifying the information in the short article, something about one of the more popular fighters, and Storm was pacing even as the Professor spoke, not even a shadow of her formerly cool and calm self evident. Todd yawned widely, leaning to avoid Rogue’s elbow to his ribs. “Look, this is gonna sound real bad but… I can’t keep my damn eyes open. May I be excused?” he mumbled, the words slurring slightly.
Professor Xavier frowned, then nodded. “In this case, you can’t help it.” He motioned to the door with one finger. “But this isn’t an excuse to shirk duty. You still have your science project to finish.”
Todd sighed and nodded, feeling the eyes of his friends on his back as he loped out the door. He yawned again and stumbled for the stairs, shivering in the marble foyer.
“Pssst…” He paused, his eyes only partially open. “Psssst!” The hissing sounded again, closer this time. He frowned and turned in a slow circle, looking for the source. “PSSSSSSSSST!”
Todd snorted. “Artie? What’re you doing?” He shuffled to the plant-filled corner where the staircase joined the wall and peered through the leafy limbs of the palms lending the hall an art deco feel. “Are you hidin’ or somethin’?”
Artie made a motion for silence, then for Todd to come closer. Todd rolled his eyes slightly and managed, with a minimum of damage to the palms, to get into the corner with Artie and hunch down into the shadows. He was freezing, he thought, and barely awake. Artie closed his eyes for a moment then opened them, projecting an image between him and Todd. His eyes glowed faintly as the image took life, Lance and Amara leaning close and talking in the hallway upstairs, then Lance helping Amara out of the upstairs window. The image vanished and Artie’s eyes stopped glowing. He fixed Todd with a look that said “Well?”
“What the Hell do they think they’re doing?” he muttered. “Too cold to be getting’ any outside…”
Artie made a face and tugged on Todd’s arm as the older teenager would have walked away. His eyes glowed and the image played again, this time seemingly a closer view. Artie raised a finger and indicated what Lance was carrying on his back.
As the image blinked out of existence, Todd gawked. “That fucker!” he barked. “He fucking ran off!” He stood, not caring that he overset the potted palm nearest him. “I’m gonna kick his motherfucking ass!”
The door to the study flew open and Todd found himself staring at Storm, the Professor and Banshee as they filled the doorway. “Todd Tolensky, that language is not only discouraged, it’s punishable. You know the drill.” Banshee folded his arms over his chest and glared. “We’re trying to have an important discussion, one which you JUST said you were too tired to take part in, and here you are in the hall, cursing and knocking over Storm’s plants!”
Todd fished in his pocket for the five dollar bill he kept for just such an occasion and strode over to shove it in Banshee’s hand. “There. For the curse jar. I’m goin’ upstairs.” He did not give them any time to try and stop him. He leapt for the balcony, his legs screaming in protest to the use while so cold, and found his footing on the upstairs landing. One short leap, caroming off the wall and leaving bootprints on the striped wallpaper, brought him to the room he shared with Lance. He threw the door open and looked around, mildly confused at first. It was different. It took a moment to realize why. All of Lance’s belongings were gone. Or at least, Todd thought, the ones that were important to him. Drawers stood partially open, the closet gaped and revealed an empty spot where Lance’s warm clothes used to be. In the middle of his own bed, Todd saw Lance’s coveted shoebox, held together with tape and hope. “What the fuck…” He shut the door, locked it, and landed on the bed with a thud. The box overset and Lance’s stash spilled out, secured in little plastic baggies, along with a worn metal pipe, some rolling papers, a condom that had been around since Methuselah was a baby and a folded piece of paper. Todd shoved everything aside except for the paper, unfolding it so hurriedly he tore it. “Melodramatic fuck,” he muttered, scanning the note. He scanned it once, then twice, and finally let loose a stream of curses so volatile that he would have had to be paying into the jar long after his death had Banshee heard him.
“What’s with you?” Rogue asked, a brow arched as she stood in the door.
“FUCK!” Todd leapt to his feet and hit the dresser between the two beds, knocking over a lamp. “Didn’t hear you come in…”
“I opened the door sometime around ‘cocksucking son of a bitch,’ if that helps…” She did not move from the doorway but indicated the note in his hand. “ That’s what’s got you so pissed off?” she asked as if she did not care at all when inside, curiosity was eating her alive.
“Yeah…” He licked his lips and motioned her to come closer. “Shut the door…”
“Oooookay…” She kicked it shut with her heel and crossed to him, reaching for the note. “What is it? Lance write a love letter or something?”
“Something,” he said, letting her take it. “Says they went to Nova Roma.”
Rogue snorted. “Right,” she laughed, shoving the note back at him. “They just pranced out the front door and caught the first bus back to the island. That’s hilarious…” She shook her head and pushed her hair out of her eyes, smiling faintly now. “Storm and Banshee are leaving with Warren within the hour. They’re talking about some of us going, our first real mission…”
Todd sighed painfully. “Not interested. I’m gonna stay here…”
Rogue frowned, watching him pace then, looking more depressed than tired. “Todd, look… they’re not really going to Nova Roma. It’s impossible for them to do that… They’ll be back before the night’s over. I know Amara. She’ll bitch about the cold until Lance either gags her and carries her back or he makes it seem like it’s her idea to come back. Don’t worry…”
“What if they don’t?” He paused by Lance’s bed, his yellow eyes narrowed and glaring. “What if they really are gone forever?”
“No such thing as gone forever,” she said after a moment. “Look, if they’re not back by midnight… We’ll tell the Professor.”
Todd nodded. “Good…” He sighed again and sat heavily on the bed. “I really need some sleep, baby.”
She smiled again and reached out to run a gloved finger down his jawline. “Alright, sweetie. I’ll see you later.”
Todd waited until the door shut behind her then leapt for the closet, grabbing his backpack. He had no idea what the weather was like in Nova Roma but it was bound to be warmer than Bayville.