Disclaimer: I don't own Nightcrawler or the X-men. Jena is mine and one of the original seven from my fictional work 'The Rainbow Sister.'
Author's Note: This is purely the result of my overactive imagination and my evil friend for inducing naughty thoughts concerning the niftiness and innate sexiness of Furry Blue Elf's tail! Enjoy!
I'm going to have a heart attack. I'm a man with enough woes to send me early to the grave. I have woes of every color. For the past thirty years I'm living with enough woes to last me a lifetime. My wife had been a beautiful woman. She had been beautiful even in death. God bless her soul. I love her still. But she blessed me with seven reproductions of herself. Seven daughters. And each was as colorful as their mother had been. But where she had been an entirety of one, her daughters are as separate and stark as the seven colors of the rainbow they were teased about. In the prosperous town of Haliwell, Maine. But here they weren't the Haliwell Sisters anymore. The towns people now called them the Rainbow Sisters. Because they were all like the colors of the rainbow. Beautiful and unreachable.
Now standing in the doorway while my 'dutiful' daughters came to listen to my final proclamation. Princesses gathered in the parlor, dressed to perfection and waiting for the king. Oh god, I'm probably the only king about to have a spaz attack at the prospect of facing his daughters. But you don't know my daughters. The only moment they all agree on anything is when they want to say no to me. Don't get me wrong, they're not disobedient or disrespectful. They are…manipulative. Ever since they were children. They know how to manipulate me. They know how to say no so I'd love them anyway. But then I love them no matter what they do.
Yes I guess I spoil them, but of all the wealth I've gathered, my daughters are the only asset that make me proud. For their faults, when they're together, they are formidable. And they have made the Haliwell Group of Companies a force to be reckoned with.
I know I had to begin soon. To tell them of what I was proposing. And the thought scared the shit out of me.
So I took a moment to regard them. There was Cheryl with her beautiful red mane. The daring woman who was rarely seen without a man. She was exceptional in her beauty. Bold, exotic and intoxicating. Men found her like fine wine and she found solace on the racetrack. A woman who liked it fast, I couldn't see her with one man and as much as it pains me to admit it. Cheryl was more passionate in her cars than she was with men. Men fell at her feet. But Cheryl wanted the world. Wearing her favorite red cashmere sweater over a daring slant cut suede skirt and her patented impatience. Cheryl was 'The Red'. Like the deathtrap BMW she always drove.
As Cheryl was red, Mia was pink. Being the youngest, I have spoiled her the worst I think. Mia is everything about wide smiles, big hugs and bouncing. Sometimes it is refreshing to watch her flitter around trying to please and amuse anything she sees. And there are times I wished she could do more than plan lunches and make dresses. But Mia is good at what she does. And what she does is have grown men fall over themselves to help her. They hold out doors for her, and slip and slide, sometimes diving off cliffs to have her bat her pretty brown eyes at them. Eyes, I'm sad to say, I've given her and she uses it to the best of her abilities. She is 'The Pink'. My little image consultant. She makes it her bread and butter to tell people how they look. At first I'd thought she'd never be good at anything besides attracting men like flies. But being my youngest. She loves me best. And no man can be me. I have spoiled her I think. For all other men. It is no longer flattering. I worry now. All she wants is to spread the love.
Samantha. My little Samantha. She's dear to my heart. So are the others, but Sam and I share something special. We share a soul. There are times when I don't need to say anything to Sam to have her look at me with complete understanding. She knows me best. And she's the most caring, sympathetic humanitarian I've ever seen. From the various charities she heads and the constant mothering over everything she sees, I worry that no man would want her. Why want another mother. Although you love mothers, you never really want another one. Every man that I've seen with her looks smitten, but none of them want her forever. But Samantha seems to think it is because of her weight. She's not the sleekest of my daughters. They come in all shapes and sizes. My dear sweet Sam is a pear. A perfectly shapely pear and she has it in her head that no man wants her for it. But I wished I could explain to her that she's still a woman. That she's still a young woman who doesn't need to be a mother anymore. Her sisters didn't need her mothering. They needed a sister. She is 'The Green'.
As selfless as Sam is my Jena appears as hard as stone. I don't know where I went wrong with this one. Dressed in all black, it is as if she's angry with the world. And for the life of me I can't understand why. She's my rebel. The little girl who ran away when she was five. Then when she was fifteen. And she's still running, but I've never been able to understand from what. We're not on the best of terms. She opposes me. In everything. I expect the greatest resistance from her. Jena is sheathed in darkness, but she's a child of light. I know it because she's my daughter. She went away one summer when she was eighteen and hasn't lightened since then. And she won't speak of it. The sarcastic, irony ridden woman has the largest heart. She might not show it, but I see how she's capable of so much love. Fiercely loyal, I know that she is the one who will always be there when I call her, no matter our differences and my complete loathing for her tattoos and piercing and black motorbike. How I hate that contraption. More so than Cheryl's deathtrap. She lets no living thing near her. What to talk of men. Like bruises. She was 'The Purple'.
And then there's Kitty. If it wasn't for 'The Orange' everyone would have more peace than was necessary. My daughter Kitty is athletic, lively and always ready for some fun. Coaxing smiles with her antics, if it hadn't been for Kitty, we all might have aged a long time ago. It is her contagious laughter and elaborate pranks that keep us on our toes. Always expecting spices in my tea, I know I've learnt to taste things better. I've learnt to smell flowers. To stop and think of what we are doing even if it was to check for booby traps. She brought joy and laughter to our lives. With all her mirth I sometimes feel my daughter is like the clown. Wearing paint to hide her frowns. Because lackadaisical as she may seem, I've seen her hunger for some peace herself. I know inwardly she is tired of laughing. For some moments she'd like to recharge her batteries before she begins again. And because she's never serious to a fault, nothing holds her attention for long. Maybe because she's afraid for never being able to laugh again.
When Alison was born I'd been hoping for a boy. And I fear that it is my fault. Sometimes I forgot that my beautiful red haired daughter with her spiky hair is not a boy. Alison became 'Alley' and now Alley is the heart of every group, gathering and party where men are. She is popular. She is beautiful. But she is one of them. There are times when it is hard to find her in a crowd, but only because she's worked so hard to blend in. She's worked so hard to please me. She's done everything I've wanted. Been my son. My pinnacle of strength. But I wish some man would shake out of his stupor and realize that behind the content little slip of a girl is a woman who is every bit as feminine as her voluptuous sister Cheryl. I wish that some man would shake her and remind her that she's everything woman. She is 'The Yellow.'
'The Blue' is my think tank. The one entity I can always count on for best advice. She knows when. She knows how. She knows where. And it is that uncanny ability, that intuition that makes her a formidable entirety to be sitting across from at a debate or a corporate deal. She is my business. She's taken it places I never could. Her brain is sharp and her heart is silent. I know it has grown tired of screaming at her for twenty seven years that she needs to listen to it. But she doesn't. Everything with her is methodical, from the neatness of her drawers and the ramrod straight back. Sometimes I want to shake her, ruffle her hair until she's tousled and harried. I want to see her laughing with abandon. I want to see her running around with children chasing her, dragging her into a pile of autumn leaves. I'm not proud of anyone more than Nina and she makes me cry. I cry for her youth. I cry for her hardness. I cry because I want her to allow a man to give her children that I know she wants. I don't like her when she's blue.
All my colors. I was about to throw them heaps of shades. In just a few moments I would have them turning shades darker and lighter than any of them are colored. My beautiful untouchable daughters. The king has had about enough of it.
"I'm glad to see that all of you made it."
Jena held up the ivory card. "You faked your own demise."
I should have looked sheepish. I really should have.
Alley shook her head disappointedly. "This is a new low, even for you daddy."
Nina leaned back in her chair, an eyebrow raised, already guessing what I had to say, but I was sure she had no idea. "I have a board meeting in twenty."
"Thank you for further increasing the importance that I have in your corporate world Nina. I'm honored that you've fit me into your schedule."
"Oh daddy, don't pout! I love you."
I hid a smile. "Yes I know that Mia. Thank you."
"Are you okay old man?" Sam looked worried. "Is your blood pressure acting up again?"
"I'm perfectly healthy."
Cheryl blew the front bangs off her forehead, huffing impatiently. "Oh god, please! If it's another attempt to have us move in again, I'd like to point out that I'm happy on my own and do not need anyone telling me otherwise."
I snorted. "I think it's a well-known fact that you like your independence Cheryl. Heaven forbid I interfere."
"The last time you interfered, we were picking up broken glass all the way down the street," Kitty sprawled in her chair shot her sister a smirk.
Cheryl scowled back. "You know about Hurrican Katrina?"
Kitty's eyebrow lifted, amusement flashing her bright blue eyes.
Cheryl's eyes narrowed into slits. "Child's play."
I sighed. "Alright girls. Let's not traverse into one of those days where everyone says everything and no one listens. I have something to say to you." I watched them look at me with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. "All of you."
"Get to the point." Nina was the one who wanted to cut to the chase.
"I've decided to give you your shares in the company."
There was joy, disbelief, suspicion, worry, indifference, love and gratitude before I was bombarded with questions. Raising a hand I silenced the room and took a deep breath for what he was about to say. "If you marry."
And then all I got for the next two hours were incoherent screeches of anger they had all inherited from my late wife.
If I didn't love her, I'd damn her to hell.
XXXXX
Of all the low down dirty tricks to be played on me this one certainly took the damn cake. I had to hand it to the old man. He certainly knew how to make a statement. As if faking his own demise wasn't bad enough. I should have expected some sort of trick, but who prepares for being blackmailed and swindled by their own father? Nothing is sacred anymore.
"You're being self-effacing again Jena."
Looking up at Kitty leaning in the doorway to my bedroom I sent her one of my patented stoic stare. "Is that the same as self-fucking?"
The woman rolled her eyes before walking to my apartment. "Oh don't be so morbid little sister. It's not the end of the world yet. Hell, maybe once Nina starts cranking out toddlers dad will let off on you. After all, god only knows what will come out of you if decide to give birth."
I didn't rise to her bait. Kitty has a history of getting under my skin and earning a black eye or two for her trouble. She likes to needle me. She says she colors me. Even if the color is black and blue like bruises. Or purple as they like to call me. It's damned sweet of her, but if she wasn't my sister, I'd have killed her. "And that's why I've decided not to give birth." I shouldered my overnight bag.
"Running away from home? That was my idea. You can't have it."
I let out a defeated sigh. "I'm not running away from home Kitty. I'm too old to run away from home anymore."
"You're never too old to run away! Look at me!"
"Yes. In your case it's just the right age." Rolling my eyes I tried to walk past her but she stepped in my way.
"Come on little sister. Talk to me. What's on your mind?"
Gritting my teeth, I lifted my pale blue eyes to her sparkling ones. "I need some time on my own. Do you understand the concept of privacy?"
She seemed to ponder that for a moment. "No. Can't say that I do."
With a grunt of disapproval I shoved myself past the barrier that is my perky older sister and headed for the black bike parked in the spiraling driveway. My father might think that I was on the hunt like the rest of them. But if he thought he could push me around, he had another thing coming.
"Jena!"
Yanking the helmet on, I met Kitty's eyes through the visor. My beautiful sister was completely serious for the first time that I'd seen her. "Stop running."
I flinched and put the car in gear. Sorry Kitty. But running is what I'm best at.
I wondered if anyone else had decided to pay the cabin in the mountains a visit. It would certainly put a stint in my plan if one of my sisters had already stolen my idea. But with Nina's wedding coming up and Cheryl's new temper tantrum and Mia being missing. I had a feeling everyone would have their hands full. Besides they were used to me disappearing. It wouldn't really be that big a deal. Weird little Jena was acting up again. Damn Kitty and her perceptive tone. I hate how much that woman actually sees without giving it away with her sunny smiles and pranks. Sometimes she's more perceptive than Sam. And Samantha practically raised us.
Most of the times I've practiced my mind to stay silent. But the drive up into the mountains plagued me with questions.
Why now? Why was daddy making this such a priority now? True. It was probably not that easy for him to be a father of seven and watch us all be spinsters for life. But most of us have been father fixated all our lives. No man was good enough. And no man ever would be. Not Cheryl's long line of bachelors vying for her attention. Not Mia's entourage. Not Alison's rowdy football friends. No. No man ever would be.
And my damn heart still manages to ache when I think about it. I hate men. And no I'm not a lesbian. It's just I know they all want the same thing. It's a damned chemical disposition. A need to pass on the seed and continue the species. Nothing more. Nothing less. No great big love that unites us all. No souls meeting in time. No two halves making a whole. Just a commercialized word for making money off of people who are already lonely and alone.
I'm not a cynic. Been there. Done that. Bought the T-shirt. And it wasn't worth it.
I just tell it like it is. But yes. I did wonder what my father's motives were. Whatever they were, I wasn't playing his game. Not rising to the challenge. And he could take his money and make his bed with it.
Turning off the winding road up the mountain, I turned off to a smaller dirt road and frowned at the slightly dented electronic gate.
The bike's tires crunched against the rough path as I part in front of it. I pulled my helmet off. Something was wrong.
Leaning over, I slid my hand into the backpack and pulled out the two automatics. I was officially on leave from the Bureau but I'm sure my boss won't completely kick my ass for using my field-issued weapon to defend myself in case something had gone wrong. My boots rasped against the dirt as I slipped one gun into the back of my pants, my black jacket falling over it as I removed the safety on the other and walked over to the lopsided gate.
It didn't look like someone had run over it. I touched the sharp edges. Like something that sliced through it. Like a blade. Why they hadn't just jumped over the damn four foot gate was beyond me. This sure as hell looked more incriminating. Maybe it was an animal. But no. Those edges seemed to be made with an unnaturally sharp object. Three of them to be exact. Keeping the gun firmly in my hand beside the him, I flipped over the broken gate and carefully walked down the path.
The woods were quiet. Which in itself was troublesome. Usually this late in the evening the birds were returning to their nests. It was noisy.
But it was just as well. I worked better in the quiet. And this was my home ground. I knew these woods better than anyone else. The path winded into a neat corner, but I walked straight through the woods and that's when I saw the smoke from the chimney.
Someone was definitely around.
With slow, stealthy steps, I covered the distance to the tiny little hut nestled between the trees, the glimmer of the lake in the distance. With the mood I was in, I hoped to hell it was someone from my family who hadn't bothered to inform anyone they'd be paying this place a visit. I was so not in the mood for trouble. All I wanted was a few days of peace and quiet. To assimilate. Was that too much to ask?
And that's when I saw the blood.
The front steps were covered with them and it trailed all the way inside the cabin. Someone was hurt. There was a back door. Hunching lower, I snuck around the side of the house and flattened myself against the wall beside the little wooden door. Inside I could hear voices, but I couldn't be sure how many. Pulling out my second handgun, I checked them both before sliding my head forward and peeking inside.
A woman was standing over the stove, stirring something in my mother's favorite pasta pot. Her hair was a startling shade of red and she seemed to be completely engrossed with her business of cooking. No one I knew. Pulling away slightly, I prepared to put my boot against the door when I heard it.
Like the unsheathing of a sword. At least six of them.
Fuck. They were behind me.
The second it took me to turn and take the first two shots was the exact same length of time it took me to realize two very fundamental things.
There's was only one of them. And I was falling into darkness.
To be continued….
