Title: The Space Between (v2.0)
Rating: M - While it's a relatively safe story, it does involve Sabretooth so language may become an issue. Plus, it's schmooshy, romantic stuff.
Summary: Sabretooth's former assistant, Birdy, has moved on with her life without him.
Timeline: Takes place after Sabretooth: Death Hunt #4 through X-Factor #136 with Forge escaping without injury.
Author's Notes: Recently, I got a review on this story, the OLD version of this story, and it got me thinking about finishing where I'd left off. But...I didn't like what I'd written. So, I rewrote it. Most of it. As per FF.N's rules, I couldn't leave the original up and publish another unless I changed the title AND the first chapter. But chapter 1 was what I liked most about the story so, that was a no go. If you're familiar with this story, you'll see some things are the same, but a lot of things are different. Especially the direction. Concrit is always welcomed here so please leave some if you have the chance. Also, reading some of my other Sabretooth/Birdy fics is not required but, hey, it can't hurt either!
"Teams, check in."
"Team two, all clear. Nothin' but suits and their Starbucks this way. Over."
"We've got the same over here, Wildchild. What about your end of town, Polaris? Has Creed been able to pick up the target's scent? Over."
"If he has, Forge, he's not telling. He went down streetside. I'm tracking him by the tracer in his collar. So far, all's quiet. How 'bout it, Creed? Any sign of Foggerty?"
The mutant known as Sabretooth doesn't reply immediately. He knows that holding off on a response will make his teammates slightly nervous. So, with a smile, he stays silent.
"Creed, do you copy?" Polaris waits patiently for a reply. Before she was a member of X-Factor, even before she was an X-Man, Lorna Dane was an unwilling member of the mutant killing team known as the Marauders. She's worked beside Victor Creed before and knows what kind of mind games he likes to play. An annoyed sigh precedes her voice over the com-set. "Answer the question, Creed. Any sign of the target?" The headsets crackle before the deep voice of Sabretooth answers.
"Lorna, baby, you really oughta learn to relax. I think I timed you at 2.3 seconds. I pissed you off in record time."
"Whatever, Creed. Any sign of Foggerty?"
"Nah. I keep tellin' y'all. That guy took off soon as he heard he was wanted. A real scaredy-cat type. He's long gone."
"I think Creed's right on this one, team. Let's pack it in, Forge."
"All right, Val. Wildchild and Mystique, we'll meet you at First and Helmway. Polaris and Creed, meet up at Fifth and Johnston."
"Oh, goody. If we make it home in time I can still catch Doctor Phil."
"Cut the chatter, Raven, and move out."
"Geez, Val. Snippy, snippy."
Victor Creed starts towards the meeting point three blocks away. Lunchtime rush has the sidewalk packed with businessmen and women racing to get their meal and maybe a smoke in before they have to be back at their desks and their daytime tasks. Creed towers over most of the people and his massive size gives the throng reason enough to part as he makes his way down the sidewalk. After a block, he passes by a city park, filled with mothers and their little ones enjoying the afternoon sun. The swings creak rhythmically as children squeal to be pushed higher and higher, pumping their little legs, trying to fly. The monotonous tune of an ice cream cart is barely heard over the noise of the children which mingles with the various sounds of the city.
The reluctant government agent shakes his head in pity as he walks past the park. "A waste o' meat, the lot of 'em," he murmurs to himself when a familiar scent tickles his senses. His head snaps up and he squints his eyes, adjusting them to the light of the day and to better scan the area for the face to match the scent. Standing still he inhales again, more deeply this time, to confirm what his brain and what his memory are both telling him. "Ain't no way," he reminds himself, knowing that that scent has been long dead for years now. He draws in one more breath to determine the direction of the scent and finds that it leads him into the park. Treading lightly through the playground, around screaming and laughing children, the hunter follows the scent that the wind carries to him. And then he sees it.
Yellow. A color seen every day. A color that makes you think of something bright and cheerful. Something full of life and happiness. The way the sun reflects on it makes Victor think of gold. It also reminds him of something he lost, bringing with the memory a painful tightening in his chest. As he draws near, a doubtful yet hopeful litany is repeated in his mind. It can't be, it can't be, it can't be. Please, it can't be.
For the first time Victor can remember, he's nervous. He doesn't dare tell himself that he's scared. But, oddly, he reasons with himself it's okay to be nervous. With a trembling hand, he reaches out to touch the shoulder of the woman, her back to him and her long hair creating a golden waterfall he'd be more than happy to drown in... again. He lightly rests his large hand on her shoulder, feeling the softness of her hair under his calloused fingertips, once more bringing forth memories he'd hoped he had banished from his mind. The shimmering effect of the sun on her hair creates a golden halo as she turns to face him. He swallows hard, knowing that the eyes that look back at him will be the same blue eyes that closed for what he thought would be forever years before when his own son took her life.
For a brief moment for Victor Creed there is no movement, there is no sound, or smell or even feeling. The only thing he knows is what he sees before his own eyes. The yellow turned to gold, the blue of the eyes and the pink of the lips contradict what he has known for the past four years as he whispers her name, "Birdy?"