Carne Vale

CARNE VALE CHAPTER FIFTY SEVEN (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, Billy and Joaquin send sincere thanks for fueling my sugar addiction. :) InterNutter, TC and Maxwell Pink make me want to write their names in glitter pen in my assignment book like a sixth grade girl because they archive. (hey, it's getting a bit hard to think of compliments! LOL!) Readers/Reviewers: First, millions of sparkleberries for the person who sent me the wonderful nice review the other day. You know who you are. I will adore you forever and probably have illicit author fantasies about you. (just kidding, I promise-don't run screaming into the night!) ;) And second, I am going to have little altars everywhere for all of you and lots of happy pagan dancing because you're nice enough to read what I write! :)

Mystique hated being shot but she hated being shot at even more. It was the uncertainty, she thought as she felt the sting of the bullet grazing her neck. Being shot at entailed a certain element of doubt-you never knew, she reflected as she dropped to her knees, whether another shot would follow the first or if the shooter had made a mistake and was really aiming for someone else. Or aiming to threaten. As she fell forward, grabbing at her neck because she knew that she was supposed to, even though it did not hurt as badly as it should have, she noticed a looming shadow growing even larger. _Someone's going to fall on me. Wonderful. _ She rolled to one side, not caring about the grass stains on her until-recently pristine linen skirt and silk blouse. She was not hurt badly enough to pass out and her form flickered for a brief moment before she was Miss Blau again, bleeding and panting, though more in surprise than actual pain. Anyone who saw the lightening-quick slip from pink, fleshy principal to blue, almost reptilian Mystique and back again would attribute it to a trick of the setting sun or even their own panic when they related the story later. She could hear people yelling and shouting and someone screaming to call 911, and she sighed. She was fine, she wanted to say, really. But she laid there, tired beyond measure. _I'll move in a minute... _
It all happened within a blink, at least to Rogue, sitting in the stands and waiting, hoping to surprise Todd by being there when she was supposed to be at cheerleading practice. Miss Blau was speaking with Coach McGurk, her seemingly permanent half-smirk tinged with something akin to irritation. Rogue heard a sharp click and looked away from the coach and principal a moment before the shot rang out. Miss Blau went to her knees, then fell forward, followed closely by Duncan Matthews. He had been standing on the sidelines, obviously waiting to speak to the coach. Now, a blossom of blood spread from his shoulder and down his arm, thick and red with life. He wavered for a moment, looking offended and stunned, before he fell heavily. Rogue stood, shocked, and stared for a moment. Duncan did not look, from her distance, to be hurt badly, but blood was everywhere... She joined the crush of people running to the fallen administrator and teenager, a sigh of some relief escaping her lips when Miss Blau opened her eyes, disturbingly yellow for the moment they lit on Rogue, and said, almost snapped, actually, "Stand back, you twits! He needs some air!" She was on her knees again in a moment, a tear in her blouse and a thin trickle of blood a testament to her close call. The skin was slightly puckered and red, burned really, where the bullet had grazed her, just at Duncan's shoulder level. She motioned for one of the soccer players to come closer and pulled savagely at his shirt, tearing it and rendering it useless as clothing but effective as a method to staunch the blood flow seeping from Duncan.
Rogue looked up and over the crowd at the sound of sirens and saw Lance and Amara coming towards them. Rahne lurked on the edge of the crowd, looking frustrated, and Todd, she saw, was now shirtless, courtesy of Miss Blau. _Mystique, _ Rogue's mind whispered. _You know it is... _ She dropped to her knees next to the principal and coach, knowing full and well that she could not help, even with her gloves on and the bodysuit covering what little of her skin was exposed, and hissed under her breath as she leaned forward, "You're not fooling me anymore."
"Good," snapped Mystique. "Be useful or move!"
Rogue carefully pressed the pad of cloth where Mystique indicated, hearing Logan's rumble of a voice in the background. "What are you doing?" she breathed to the older woman, almost certain that she was not overheard by the coach or Duncan.
"Being shot at, apparently."
"Rogue get up," Storm's cool voice ordered.
The weather witch took her place next to Mystique and mouthed something Rogue did not make out before Logan's hand clamped on her elbow. The police and paramedics had arrived and were pushing the students away from Duncan, bringing a stretcher and bags of fluid and who knew what else onto the practice field. "Rogue, Pietro's around here somewhere. We've got to find him _now. _" Logan did not brook any argument with his tone, his lack of concern for Duncan somehow not surprising to Rogue.
"How do you know?" she asked, moving to the edge of the crowd as he pushed her enough to indicate direction.
Logan tersely related what happened as they walked, Jean and Scott joining them seemingly from nowhere. Some police officers were questioning witnesses as more fanned out over the grounds. One of the men in blue approached her and asked for her statement. "Just a sec," she said to Logan and turned to the officer. "I didn't really see anything...I just heard a click in the stands, but that could've been the aluminum settling..."
"Can you show me where you were sitting?" the officer asked, pausing in his scribbling on the notepad in his hand.
There seemed to be some communication with Jean, Scott and Logan, for the red head followed Rogue and the officer to where the Goth had been sitting. The policeman spoke into his walkie talkie and they were joined by two more officers, looking stern and carrying folded paper bags. "Thank you, miss...we'll be in touch," the first officer said dismissively as the trio disappeared under the bleachers.
"Well," Jean said, turning to glance at the dispersing crowd, "looks like Logan and Scott are going north through the athletic fields. We should go..." she looked around pic picked a direction, the one with the least blue uniforms dotting the landscape, "that way. Pietro's already gone but we can find some clues or something."
"Wait a sec, Nancy Drew1," Rogue said, tired and irritated at once, "Pietro didn't do this...this ain't his style."
"I'm not saying he did," Jean soothed, making "quiet" motions as she spoke, "but he's still running and I wouldn't be surprised if he had at least *something * to do with this."
"Miss Blau is Mystique," Rogue blurted, seeking some way to break Jean's aggravating calm as they walked towards the goalposts at one end of the field.
"Figured," Jean said shortly. "She's slipping in the nom de guerre department."
Rogue drew up short. "You mean you had an idea that she was Mystique but didn't say anything?"
"The Professor thought..."
"The _Professor _ knew?" Rogue knew her voice was hitting new and interesting pitches but she did not care. Todd sidled up on her right, startling her. "Put a shirt on!" she snapped, stalking away from Jean and her boyfriend.
Todd blinked his wide, muddy eyes twice and turned to Jean. "Huh?"
"Paradigm shift," she said. "Rogue just had the wind taken out of her sails."
"Got it..." Todd nodded grimly, then took off at a loping run. "Wait up, babycakes!"
Jean sighed to herself. *_ Scott, tell Logan I'm taking Rahne and we'll recon in the opposite direction. Rogue and Todd are heading towards the school and looks like Lance and Amara are going to the parking lot...Where's Kurt and Kitty? _ *
There was a long pause as Jean waved Rahne over and they murmured amongst themselves about which way to go so they did not draw the attention of the police officers. *_They're over by the ambulance. Logan says to get the others and go home. Now. _ *
Jean rolled her eyes. That could only mean one of two things-either Logan was on to something or knew more than he was letting on. From the corner of her eye, Jean saw Storm come from between two parked cars and wondered briefly how the woman was going to get home without being seen if she had flown there. "Come on, Rahne...back to the Institute."
"Aw," the Scottish girl whinged, "I wanted to find Pietro!"
_* Scott, tell Logan thanks for me, would you? * _

Kurt and Kitty saw the ambulance first, before the crowd. Storm had returned, slightly out of breath and disheveled from her rapid flight. She had driven the four teenagers to the school and they had split up, milling with the students and looking generally clueless so as not to arouse suspicion. Kurt saw the ambulance right away and nudged Kitty, the two making a beeline for the huge white vehicle as Scott and Jean diverted towards the drifting students. Miss Blau, Mystique, Kurt knew without knowing, stood next to a paramedic, a wide white bandage pressed to her neck, as Duncan Matthews was loaded on the ambulance. "What happened?" Kitty said, a little breathlessly.
"He was shot in the shoulder," Mystique said, not bothering with the pretense of changing her voice anymore. If she were recognized, so be it. It had to happen sooner or later and she would rather it be on her terms. "They're looking for the shooter..."
Kurt was staring intently at Duncan's bare chest, where the sheet was folded back and his shirt had been cut away. Kitty followed his gaze and frowned. It looked as if Kurt had developed a sudden, avid fixation on Duncan's rib cage and a bruise flowering there. "What is it?" she asked as one of the paramedics pushed them aside.
"He was bitten."
"Not surprising, considering who he dates," she said distractedly. Miss Blau was fixing her with a strange look and Kitty was beginning to put the puzzle pieces together. "Kurt, I think that the principal is..."
"Him," he breathed, his eyes wide and fangs digging into his lower lip.
"Who?" Kitty asked, growing more worried as Kurt dashed towards the ambulance, the doors slamming as he moved. "Kurt!"
"Duncan is Incubus!" he said sharply, whirling to face not just Kitty but Mystique, still standing very still where the paramedics had left her when she proved to them she was barely injured. "You!"
"Calm down, child," Mystique said harshly. "For once, you're safe with me."
Kurt would not be calmed, however. "Mystique," he spat. "What the Hell are you doing? How could you..."
"How could I _what _?" she hissed. "Help Kitty? Get Kelly out of the way when he was trying to harm you and your friends? How could I actually give a fuck for once?"
"You don't do anything if it isn't for your benefit!" Kurt snapped.
*_ Jean...get Logan. Please? _ * Kitty was almost wringing her hands in panic. She knew that she could not do much should one of them attack the other, but a higher logic told her that nothing physical would happen between Kurt and Mystique. Not just then, anyway. "Kurt," she said in a low, serious tone, "let it go. Live to fight another day and all that crap...come on..." She plucked at his sleeve nervously, aware of Mystique's eyes boring into her skin the entire time.
"I meant what I said, Kitty," the woman intoned direly. "We have more in common than you think. Anger, hate, loathing...It's in you, too. Soon, my reasons for everything will become clear enough."
Logan lumbered up as if from nowhere, though he had really just slowed from a dead run across the practice field. "Blue," he said, though, for once, not to Kurt. "You're mine."
Kitty froze, fully expecting the hiss of metal through skin, the tell-tale sound of Logan popping his claws, but it never came. Instead, Kurt began pulling her back. "Leave. Now, Liebes. We need to go."
It seemed, she realized, that Kurt was having an attack of common sense. "Kurt," she said, backing away with him, watching her foster father stare down Kurt's birth mother, the tension palpable despite the presence of many police officers within shooting distance, "we should stay....just in case."
Kurt slid her a look, forcing her to turn and walk forward rather than maintain her backwards gait. "Just in case a man with a metal skeleton and superhuman healing abilities can't take on a shapeshifter? I think we'd be unnecessary." _Besides, I think I need to check something out... _ He had a sneaking suspicion about Pietro all of a sudden and knew just where he needed to go to confirm it. Duncan as Incubus was still rattling in his mind and he wanted the former Brotherhood to confirm his suspicions. _Though _,he thought to himself as they made their way with studied calm towards the cars and the assembling mutants, _from everything they've said, they won't be too much help...Wanda. Wanda would know for sure. _

A/N Okay, hardcore smut is coming up (er, no pun intended. Well, maybe a little one.) soon. Lots of smut...pretty much everyone gets some smut action soon....
1 Fictional female teenaged detective, popular in the fifties and sixties. Around the same time as the Bobsy Twins and the Hardy Boys.