Fractals

Fractals Chapter Fifty Six (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply (NC-17)

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… tricky kitties all around… InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink and Dracena are loverly and wondermous for archiving/hosting. :) ProPhile: *poke * Read more. Morgan: *sigh* I know, I know… Readers/Reviewers: Updates may be spotty close to Xmas but depends on what’s going on in RL. Aside from that, *glomp * Thanks!!!

“You need to sleep,” Mystique murmured, handing Magneto a cup of steaming hot coffee.
“No rest for the wicked, as someone once said,” he smiled ruefully, cradling the hot mug in his hands. “Is Kitty settled?”
“Incubus didn’t take liberties, if that’s what you mean. She’s in the upper chamber, the windowless one. Above your daughter and her…girlfriend.” Mystique watched his face for any sign of disgust or discomfort. Wanda was a sore spot with him for many reasons, the least of which was the fact she had so effortlessly turned her back on him and never once hid her malice. It embarrassed him, Mystique knew, and made him second guess some things, which made him angry. “The others are slow to wake. Shall I send Viktor?”
“No,” he replied slowly. “Let the sleep. They’ll need to be rested for later.” He took a long, bracing sip of his coffee and winced as it burned his throat. “This tastes like motor oil.”
She bit her tongue on a snide response. “Shall I add milk then?” she asked in her most deferential tone. It would not do to have him include her in his anger at this point, though it galled her to be subservient.
“Not milk. Cream. We’re not barbarians.” He did not even glance at her as he held out the coffee cup. His attention was fixed at a distant point past the tree line, where the faint glow of city lights was just barely visible, staining the steel gray sky with a dirty yellow streak. “Not at all,” he murmured.
She took the cup and narrowed her eyes, the urge to speak too great to hold back. _I’d never have been a good student. _ “Magneto, this has gotten out of hand. We either need to move the media reception up to today, immediately, or we need to figure out some way to keep the others from doing something stupid.”
Magneto shifted and turned to face her, his eyes hooded and lips pressed into a thin line. “I suggest you leave the planning aspects to me. You do your job and do it well. You have no need to concern yourself with this aspect of it.”
“You’re wrong,” she said tensely, “I do. If this fails, if even one thing goes wrong, it’s all of our hides and I *know *the Friends of Humanity are eager for a nice blue throw rug.”
“Don’t be vulgar, Mystique,” he chided, leaning against the window frame and folding his arms over his chest as if he were cold. “The Friends of Humanity are nothing. An upstart group that will outlive it’s own media hype within months, if not sooner. They’re disaffected Homo sapiens too cowardly to admit racism or sexism so they seize on mutants, the safe minority to deride.” He smiled, giving Mystique the distinct impression of a shark scenting blood in the water. “It will almost be a shame to disabuse them of that notion.”
She closed her eyes briefly, trying not to snap in rising frustration. “Eric, I wish you would hear me out on this. The plan is marvelous, almost flawless, but the problem lies not in your ability but in humanity. They do not play well with others, as it were.”
Magneto snorted under his breath. “Your vernacular has taken a turn for the base this morning, Mystique. You’re better than that.” He tilted his head to one side and grew pensive. “What do you suggest, then, if this were your operation to execute?”
She did not hesitate. “Call your media sources. Tell them to come this evening. Get the others ready, round up any stragglers from the Institute. You know those you did not lure here or take outright are coming with some white hat wearing cowboy fantasy of rescue in mind. Move everything up a few days and make damn sure the television stations are present as well as the print media. In your speech, make sure you emphasize that we want to live in unity with mankind. Don’t tip your hand. It’s enough that we know of our own superiority. We need to lull the sapiens into security with sweet words and half truths. They balk if they think they’re not the end all, be all.”
He raised a brow and took in his partner’s slightly flushed countenance, the purple blush spreading across her cheeks and down her throat. She looked fevered, he thought. She had been wanting to say this for a while. “Fine. We’ll do it your way. No time like the present… ready the others. I’ll send Viktor to intercept our guests who are no doubt on the way.” He nodded, dismissing her. “Oh,” he called as she gained the door. “Cream, not milk. And put a dress on before the media arrives.”


“You’re on my arm.”
“So? I’m not gonna put my head on the ground. It’s hard and smells like bleach.”
“At least,” Storm sighed from across the way, “they cleaned for us.”
Sam sat up, rubbing his ear where it had been pressed against Theresa’s arm. “How’d you get here?”
“Same way you did,” Sean intoned from the direction Storm’s voice had come from. “Stupidity.”
Sam rubbed his ear some more, frowning. “Someone…jumped us. Grabbed me around the neck… then I sort of blacked out.”
Theresa sighed. “It was some big hairy git. Looked like a dog.” She stretched and winced as her back popped loudly, then her shoulders and hips. “Where are we?”
Storm stood, her pale hair and uniform showing brightly in the low lighting of the basement enclosure. “Magneto’s home. This is the basement levels. And unless I miss my guess…” She rattled the locked gate to her enclosure, “This is a former dog kennel.”
“You’re correct,” a lower voice, still female but darker, informed her. The overhead lights flooded the room with a white glow as Mystique flipped a switch. “This is where the hunting dogs were kept in one incarnation of this house, and then later, guard dogs.” She moved further into the row of kennels and stopped between the two full ones. “The rest of your party is still asleep. Or unconscious. Whichever you prefer. They’ll awaken soon enough, when the sedative wears off. Until then, clean yourselves up.” She set a bucket of water and a stack of towels down on the ground between the locked kennels. “You can try to escape if you’d like. You won’t get far.” She walked, barefoot, to the heavy metal door at the far end of the room. “You have two hours.”
“Two hours before what?” Theresa asked as the door shut behind Mystique and the locks to the kennels opened remotely.
“Sometimes,” Sean sighed, “it’s better not to ask.”