Fractals
62 and 63
Disclaimers Apply
A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… *bounce* Check for the box soonish! InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink and Dracena are loverly and wondermous for archiving/hosting. J ProPhile: Sooner than you think… Morgan: *GLOMP * Readers/Reviewers: This’ll wrap up between Yule and Christmas so wheeee for that. And a new one will start around then…ish… lol.
“What’s wrong?” Kitty nudged Scott’s ribs with her elbow. “You looked happier with the collar on.”
He shrugged. “It’s insane. Don’t worry about it.” He glanced at Jean and sighed. “She’s in Mom Mode.”
“It’s what she does,” Kitty pointed out. “She feels comfortable being bossy when she’s not sure what else to do.”
“Psych major now?” he teased. “Here I thought you were into that whole microbiology thing. Or was it computers?”
“Double major, thankyouverymuch. Neither of which is psychology.” The mention of school made her cringe and she scolded herself. _You can’t spend time thinking about it now, Kitty Pryde! Save it for later, when this mess is tied up. _
Scott grunted in response but otherwise remained silent. A tense sort of normalcy had fallen over them all as they waited in their wire cages, mentally chewing their nails and pacing. Storm and Sean had spoken in low, tense voices for several minutes with Beast and Forge, but then had become as quiet as the rest of them, trying not to watch the door. “Emma,” Storm said into the silence, “if this doesn’t work…”
“You can kill me later,” the blonde responded smoothly. “Just be patient.” She stood and pressed her fingers lightly against the wire gate of her enclosure. “Kitty, when I say…”
“I know,” Kitty replied quickly, on her feet and standing in front of the gate, mimicking Emma’s posture unconsciously. “I’ll be ready. This’ll go off without a hitch.” Her body was already tense, ready for this. Part of her fretted over the fact she had not had any real fighting practice for at least two weeks and she knew that she had gotten lazy about maintaining her abilities since starting college, but she forced it to the back of her mind. Lance was pacing next to her, one enclosure over, and Amara was staring at her hands, her lips moving but no sound coming out. “Is she okay?” Kitty asked by way of distracting herself from her worry. “I mean… she looks like she doesn’t feel well…”
Lance stopped his pacing and gave Kitty a naked look of helplessness. “She’s fine,” he lied. “Just tired. All of us are tired and confused.” He sniffed, something of his old, devil may care self coming back into his features. “Why?
Kitty sighed. “Never mind. I don’t want to get into this with you now.”
Lance watched her with narrowed eyes as she turned away to pace her own enclosure. He knew the others had heard and were watching. He did not let himself look worried even as he dropped to sit next to Amara. “Hey,” he said so softly only she could hear him, and then just barely. “We’re gonna be fine, you know.”
“I am not scared,” she replied tartly, though quietly. “I am planning.”
“Planning what?” he asked immediately, feeling her body heat radiating through their clothes and into his skin and bones. “We have a plan…”
“There is more to life than this,” she said blandly, closing her eyes and sitting up straight, looking at once regal and lost.
“Than what? This cell? This place?” He raised a brow and snorted. “Duh.”
“No, than this,” she replied, tilting her hand palm-up, curling her fingers in as if gathering the world to her. “Soon, I will have my own again.”
“Your own what?” he asked urgently, leaning closer. She was so warm now it was almost painful to him. Her skin seemed to glow very faintly, just enough to be seen, to be written off as an illusion of the over head lights, but he knew better. She was nearing a burn and did not even realize it. “Amara, calm down…”
Her eyes flew open and blazed at him. “I am perfectly calm. Any more calm and I would be dead.” She tipped her chin up, glaring down at him imperiously. “You do not understand.”
“How can I, if you don’t tell me?” he hissed. He knew they were all watching now, listening. It was impossible to keep this private and impossible to hold back. “I want to help you, goddamnit!”
She clenched her fists tightly and narrowed her eyes. “Do not speak to me like that ever again!”
His temper snapped, the last thread of it giving way like string. “There’s a difference between being my Domme and being a bitch!” He stood, stepping back as she rose, too. Her slight size was nothing then. She exuded power and commanded authority and respect by her very posture. _Shit, _ he thought, fighting the urge to back away. He stood his ground and tried to maintain eye contact, reminded forcibly of a tiger he saw once at the zoo when he was a kid, staring down the tourists, tempting them to come a little closer.
“You’re right,” she said simply. “There is.” She laid a hand against his chest and pressed slightly. She did not burn him, though she knew he expected it. Instead, she licked her lips and assayed a smile. “And right now, I’m a bitch. Deal with it.”
Emma barely suppressed a bark of laughter. “It’s time,” she said suddenly, glancing at the door. The t-shirt she had taken from Sean was barely covering the necessities but she did not care, taking up her position near the gate to her enclosure. Kitty stood opposite, obviously tense but not scared. “Everyone remember what they need to do,” Emma said softly. “Don’t go back for stragglers. We’ll come later, en masse. Understood?” There was silence. “Understood?” she snapped.
“Yes,” Storm replied, followed by a general murmur of assent.
“Right,” Emma breathed. “Here we go.”
Fractals Chapter Sixty Three (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply
A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… *kicks USPS to make box arrive faster* InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink and Dracena are wondermous and loverly for archiving/hosting. J ProPhile… *sigh* It’s coming…sooner or later… Morgan: Same to you… Readers/Reviewers: *bouncy* Almost Yule. Happy pagan me. *ahem * *GLOMP* Thank you for reading/reviewing! J The Killer Kitties ™ appreciate it…
“I really wish you weren’t doing this,” Logan sighed, not meeting Astrid’s eyes. “Johannes will kill me if something happens to you.”
Astrid snorted. “First of all, if Johannes can kill you, there must be something about my husband of twenty two years that I don’t know. He could not kill a fly, much less you.” She stopped in her tracks and waited until he turned to face her before continuing. “Secondly, I have said it once and I’ll say it again… I am not going to stand by and let my son and children I care about be in harm’s way if there’s anything I can do to stop it. And trust me…” She smiled in a way that made Logan feel slightly uneasy. “There’s plenty I can do to stop it.”
Logan raised a brow consideringly. “Ya know… I think I believe it.” He smiled briefly, obviously under a great deal of pressure. “I don’t like the idea of taking untrained people into a potential combat situation. Stay behind me at all times and don’t do anything heroic.”
Astrid gave him a pointed look. “I have raised four children, three of whom are currently teenaged girls. I live and work in a circus. I think I can handle a bit of combat. Hmmmm…” she smiled slightly, “aren’t the ones in the back of the group the first ones picked off in horror movies?”
“Horror movies aren’t real,” he grumped, peering into the gathering crowd, looking for an opening. He tried to look casual but the expression on his face was too intense to be mere curiosity.
“Neither are mutants, last I checked with the general public,” she murmured. “Ah, come on.” She grabbed his wrist and began walking, giving him no choice but to follow at the risk of causing a scene. He supposed he could just stand still and let her *try* to move a man with a metal skeleton, but that would not be worth the trouble it would cause in the end. Astrid led him towards a white van with a few people in black jackets standing around it, smoking. “Guten abend!” Guten Abend she said brightly, stopping a yard or so away. Her accent had thickened noticeably and Logan noted the vague expression on her face. He held his tongue and watched, biting back a smile. “I am looking for the…um…what is the word? I am looking for the…” She paused and frowned.
“Kitchen?” one of the black coated smokers asked solicitously. “Are you the replacement for Godfrey?”
Astrid looked neutral for a moment as if processing all he said. She turned to Logan and chirped “Was?”
“Great,” the man sighed, grinding the remains of his cigarette beneath his heel. “Another fucking foreigner.”
“Least this one’s on our side, huh?” another one laughed, reaching for his lighter. “Kit-chen,” he exaggerated. “There..” He pointed to a side door, held open by a box, spilling light onto the gray landscape.
“Danke,” Astrid said sweetly, walking quickly towards the open door, Logan in tow, adding “Pricks” under her breath as they reached the house. Logan snorted but she did not react to it, instead pausing to smooth down her slightly windblown hair and check to make sure her jacket was securely buttoned.
“Astrid,” he said sotto voce, “what are you doing? This isn’t the way we were going to do this…”
“I wouldn’t know,” she murmured. “You’re not telling me anything other than not to mess up.” She slipped away from him then, darting into the kitchen.
Logan growled under his breath and started forward, stopping for just a brief moment at the sound of a loud, metallic clang. “Astrid!” he barked, leaping into the kitchen, fists clenched, poised to slip his claws. Astrid smiled at him, holding a large serving tray, an unconscious woman at her feet. “What did you do?” he asked, blinking at the sight.
“My hand slipped,” she shrugged, setting the tray down. “It was an accident. Come on, people will have heard that.”
Surely enough, voices could be heard heading their way, calling out to people who were supposed to be in the kitchen. “From here on out, we do this my way. No questions.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her into a pantry as someone pushed open the kitchen door. Astrid giggled silently and covered her mouth with her hand. “What?” he breathed as her shoulder’s shook against him.
“That was fun,” she replied softly. “I always wondered if that would work.” She grinned and tilted her head to look up at him. “I’ll have to tell Anja it does. She tried it on Katja not long ago…”
Logan rolled his eyes. “All of you are insane,” he opined, watching the kitchen through a crack in the door. “Okay, come on…” The kitchen staff were helping their felled comrade from the room to go lay down in the private study off the side hall. Logan led Astrid out on their heels, turning right when they turned left and darting into a side corridor. “Now the hard part,” he said gruffly. “Finding ‘em…”
Astrid chewed her lip nervously, but only for a moment. “That should be easier than you think,” she murmured suddenly, looking past him into the hall.
Logan turned sharply, tensing. “What are you seeing?” he demanded. “There’s no one there…”
“I just saw a shadow, a thing moving…” She frowned. “I could have sworn it was one of the children…”
Logan sighed and relaxed fractionally. “Your imagination is making you see what you want to see… Just stick close to me, okay? Don’t go runnin’ off after shadows.” He leaned closer to continue his instructions, the shadow on the wall sliding away and down, spreading into inky darkness across the floor and rushing towards the party.