AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is set sometime after the first movie and before the second. I've always felt that Logan drifted in and out of the mansion annoying Summers while he pottered about Canada looking for some hint of his past.
THANKS: To 'Somebody's MissBehaving Angel' for her beta work on this story.
DISCLAIMER: X-Men and all their affiliates belong to Marvel Comics, and 20th Century Fox Studios for the time being. All other characters belong to me. No money is being made from this exercise.
Jessica Morrison stood in front of the cracked bathroom mirror and contemplated her new life. She laughed, mirthlessly. Life, now that's a joke! Everything that was her life could fit into her two battered old suitcases with room to spare. Her life was full of dirty men and dingy motel rooms and a desperate desire to escape to a better world, not that it existed anymore. She'd had it once – the perfect home, loving husband and a little one on the way – but she'd still managed to ruin it all with her tainted blood. She deserved this pitiful existence; she was good for nothing else.
Jessica tore open two Band-Aids and wrapped them around her right index finger. The damn thing had been oozing all morning and she didn't need it affecting her night's work. While she might be working the low end of her new profession the clients still expected some sort of cleanliness, even if they didn't follow the same rules. Looking up she prodded the area around her left eye. The swelling had gone down leaving a dirty yellow bruise behind. A gift from a former client of hers who hadn't wanted to pay. So he'd paid with his life instead. It didn't bother her except it meant moving again. She applied some bright red lipstick and adjusted her fading silk bathrobe. Different city, different clients, same old job.
As if on cue there was a knock at the door. Jessica took one more look in the mirror.
Taking a deep breath she tried a smile, "Show time!"
The man at the door was not Prince Charming; not that she'd ever expected him to be. Jessica had laughed herself stupid the first time she had watched 'Pretty Woman' after she'd begun her new life. Before, it had been one of her favourite movies.
"Huh," he looked her up and down. "You it?"
"Guess I am." Jessica stepped back to let him into the room.
He walked in and looked around. There wasn't much to see, everything was a sad shade of brown; brown walls, darker brown bedspread, tan lampshade on a tacky veneer bedside table. Even the painting above the bed was a muted brown hunting scene – the only splash of colour was the pale and faded red jackets that the hunters wore. Her client looked to be somewhere in his thirties and fat, going bald but trying to cover it. Probably wouldn't know a kind word if it tried to hump his leg. He looked like a slob and probably drove a truck for a living, just the type she normally serviced. Probably had a hairy back too, she just hoped she could convince this one to wear a condom.
He scratched his balls through his dirty blue jeans. "Whatcha do?"
Jessica tried to smile seductively, "Whatever you want, within reason."
"Hope you do more than my wife."
Jessica noticed the wedding band for the first time and suppressed a shudder. The married ones tended to be the worst, always wanting the really kinky stuff never liking to pay for it. Especially the redneck types like this guy here.
"As long as you pay, handsome." Jessica opened her robe and dropped it to the floor. She wasn't wearing anything underneath. Her new career didn't exactly require business suits or accessories.
"Damn, you ugly," Redneck said. "Good thing you're cheap."
Jessica knew she wasn't anything to look at. Hadn't her husband told her that over and over again? That she was so lucky he ever chose her in the first place. She knew what Redneck was seeing; her mousy hair she'd hacked off to just below her ears last week, sad muddy brown eyes, generous love handles and what her mother used to call 'thunder thighs'. She knew she was overweight but did they have to keep reminding her all the time. What did they expect for thirty bucks, Julia Roberts?
"Do you want to do this or not?" she asked him.
"I thought you'd never ask."
The voice came from the man just walking into the room. Sixties, distinguished with silver grey hair, sounded and dressed like some college professor. His accent placing him from somewhere overseas, England, maybe, or Europe – he was everything the other man was not.
"I didn't agree to no group sex." Jessica said.
"Neither did I," the older man replied. He paused a moment, like he was preparing to do something distasteful before perching delicately on the very edge of the bed and addressed Redneck. "Mystique, please close the door."
Turning Jessica was shocked to discover that the redneck was gone and in his place was a taller, thinner, very naked blue woman. "What the fuck?"
"Now, now, mind your language," the older man said. "We have a business proposal for you and I'm sure you'll enjoy this one a bit more than what you were expecting to do."
Jessica crouched down to grab up her robe, hastily putting it on. She didn't like the way the other woman was looking at her like she was some sort of side-show freak. Talk about calling the kettle blue! Just because she looked so comfortable and natural in her nakedness while all Jessica wanted to do every time she disrobed was close her eyes or turn out the lights, preferably both. "I have no idea what you two want but I don't do this kind of kinky shit!"
"I don't want sex with you." The man's voice dripped with scorn. "But we will have to do something with your look."
"Lose some weight if nothing else." The blue woman's voice was low and husky.
"You're freaks." Jessica knew all about the so called 'mutants' and what they were capable of doing. She began edging along the wall hoping to reach the front door and somehow escape until she saw her exit blocked off by the Mystique woman.
"We're all, as you so colourfully put it, freaks here, Jessica." The man said.
She jumped in shock when she heard her name.
"Oh yes," he had noted her reaction. "We know what it's like to be hated, judged, to be run out of your home, your life, just because you're different to everyone else." His lips peeled back in a grimace as he spoke. The words were spit out in a stream of hatred and vitriol. "They fear what they don't understand and so they try to destroy it."
"Who?" Jessica asked in spite of herself. His words had struck a chord deep inside.
"Humans." In that one word the man revealed all his negative feelings towards the human race. "They think they're so much better, superior, but we know otherwise don't we?" he looked towards Mystique who smiled back. "We are the future, not them! And they despise us for it."
"What does any of that have to do with me?" Jessica asked.
The man stood up ignoring the question. "I was born with the name Eric Lehnsherr but you can call me Magneto and, of course, you've already met Mystique."
Jessica turned to stare at a carbon copy of herself. It was perfect in every way, like looking into a mirror except the other her was waving before it dissolved back into the blue woman. "What kind of names are those?"
"Our true ones," Magneto said. "You have one too. I was thinking perhaps, Talon."
"I like Venom," Mystique said. "The perfect name for a woman scorned."
"Yes," Magneto drew the word out, thoughtfully. "You could be right."
Jessica pulled the robe more tightly around her body like it was some sort of shield. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm a norm-"
"Please, we know exactly what you are." Magneto walked over to Mystique, who promptly draped herself over one arm like some sort of accessory. They both stared intently at Jessica. "We've been following your progress for months. You've left quite a tidy trail of corpses to follow. Even the police eventually had to notice, though it took them a while."
"Oh god," Jessica whispered as she collapsed back onto the bed in shock.
"You're lucky we found you first." Mystique said.
"It wasn't my fault," Jessica said. "The first one tried to rape me and then the next –"
Magneto held up one hand. "I'm sure they deserved their punishment and you're not a killer by nature but you are so good at it and I," he paused and looked at Mystique, "we need your services."
"You mean . . ?"
Magneto smiled, "We want you to kill someone."
Jessica opened and closed her mouth, god she must look like a stupid fish. Her eyes darted about the room as she looked for an escape. Why was this happening to her, why couldn't the world just leave her alone? What did they mean kill someone? Who were these people? Maybe she should just play along until she could get away from them, but then what, she couldn't go to the police, not after what she had done. Maybe they were right, she was a killer after all and wasn't a hired killer a better job than prostitute?
Jessica took a deep breath and tiredly asked. "Who?"
"A mutant. A very prominent one that continues to be a thorn in my side. Perhaps you've seen him on television? Always prattling on about how humans and mutants can co-exist, like if we'd all just be friends everything will be fine." Magneto stared hard at Jessica, as if reading her thoughts. "But you and I know better, Jessica, we've experienced the real world where being different can be deadly." Magneto's eyes narrowed slightly. "In fact you might say it's all Charles's fault that you live like this. If he wasn't so determined to give mutants such a high profile, making humans panic and suspect every little thing we do, you might never have been caught. You might still be living quietly with your family instead of selling yourself for a measly cup of coffee. By the way, how did you get caught?" he asked the last sentence indifferently like he already knew the answer but was just waiting for her to confess all her sins against nature.
"I accidentally killed the dog." Jessica said.
Magneto laughed at the absurdity of her words. "Oh how the mighty fall!" he glanced down at her hands. "Show me who you really are."
Jessica plucked nervously at the Band-Aids on her finger. "My mother told me never to show anyone. She said it could be dangerous." She contemplated those words. Her mother never stood by her when the others found out, she hadn't stopped them from hurting her and driving her away. Her mother had never supported her in any way as her life crumbled around her. Where was mother dearest now, she would be ashamed to see her only daughter like this. Jessica ripped off the Band-Aids and held up her right hand.
Short blunt nails covered each finger except for the index one. On that one a nail had never grown, instead there was only rough scaly skin and a thin indentation that ran from where her nail would have started to the tip of her finger. On the end was a small glistening bead of opaque liquid.
"I used to hide it with acrylic nails," Jessica explained. "You're right," she looked over at Mystique. The blue woman had moved away from Magneto and was staring intently at Jessica's hand. "Venom would be a good name for me since that's what I use to kill." She licked the bead of liquid off the tip of her finger, grimacing slightly at the taste.
Magneto turned towards Mystique. "The most poisonous substance known to man and she just licks it like it is nothing." He looked back to Jessica. "I take it you're immune?"
"It makes me feel sick but it won't kill me. I only ever seem to make enough to kill one person at a time and I have to dispose of it safely everyday otherwise the venom builds up on the tip and all I have to do is touch someone and they die. Quicker if I can inject it, otherwise it absorbs through the skin."
"Perfect!" Magneto said. "Just perfect."
"For you, maybe, but you try living this life."
Magneto looked around the dreary hotel room, taking in the faded décor, the pathetically small pile of grubby notes poking out from underneath Jessica's clothing that was haphazardly piled on the floor and the used condoms in the small bin by the bedside table. "I can take you away from all this. Give you the life you've always wanted, one you deserve where no one can ever tell you you're different. One where you have the power."
"And all I have to do is kill some mutant for you?" Jessica said.
"It would be a start."
Mystique reached across and nudged Magneto. "Don't forget the ring," she said.
"Ah, yes, I bought a present." A slender metallic object floated out of Magneto's coat pocket. "Consider it a down payment on services soon to be rendered." It floated in front of him before coming to rest on his outstretched left hand.
Jessica tried to hide her interest but failed miserably. It had been a long time since anyone had bought her a present, let alone cared and even though these two obviously had an agenda in wanting her assistance at least they didn't try and hide the fact.
"Well, are you interested?" Magneto asked. When Jessica nodded he said, "Hold out your hand."
The object floated across the room and came to rest in Jessica's open hand. She rolled it around in her palm. It was a hollow cylinder, jointed in the middle and designed to fit over a finger.
"The tip is sharp, so be careful." Magneto said. "And there is no more need to worry about 'milking' your venom; it is designed to hold several days worth."
"Why hold yourself to just killing one?" Mystique said. "We should pay your ex-husband and his new family a visit," she smiled, "make sure the ring works."
Jessica smiled back and slid the ring onto her right index finger. It was a perfect fit.
Eight months later
The ruby red laser beam shot from Cyclops's visor to splatter harmlessly against the projected shield of the mutant in front of him.
The boy, with a punk purple hairdo, just grinned at the leader of the X-Men before casually turning back to yell into the building he was standing in front of. "Hey, hurry up in there, this is getting boring."
Growling Cyclops increased the intensity of the beam but it was no use. "Storm, Logan," he shouted into his radio. "Where are you?"
"Gee love to help ya, Scooter, but we're busy," came back the distinct growl of Logan in his ear. "Solve your own damn problems, bub."
"Great!" he spoke into the radio again. "What about you, Jean?"
The X-Men were trying to get past the mutant guarding the front of the building and find out what was so important that a small band of the 'Brotherhood of Mutants' would try and take over an animal testing laboratory. Scott Summers, aka Cyclops, had decided to distract one of the mutants while Jean Grey took the opportunity to sneak around the back and try to use her kinetic ability to pick the lock.
"Right now," Jean's voice said. "I'm thinking of just blasting the doors off."
"That would be a bit noisy don't you think?"
"Hey, Scott, this is a lot harder –"
Static filled Scott's earpiece. "Jean? Jean?!"
Scott was torn between the need to check on his fiancée and keep to the mission. "Storm something has happened to Jean." He said.
"We're on it." Logan said back.
Ironic how Logan's problems happily cleared themselves up when it came to helping Jean.
"This dude is getting restless out here." The punk mutant told his friends in the building. "Let's go already."
"Right." An older man and woman suddenly appeared next to Punk Mutant. "We're done!"
"Alise!" Punk called out. "Quit playing around and get us outta here!"
Cyclops suddenly found he was flying through the air to land heavily in the snow. Looking up he watched as footprints appeared in the dirty slush before him.
"The way's clear." A distinctly feminine voice with a Texan accent spoke out of the thin air.
Dropping his shield Punk and the other two ran past Cyclops. "Catch ya later, man." Punk said.
"Dammit!" Cyclops nudged his earpiece back into place and spoke into it. "Where is everyone?"
"Right here." A beautiful dark skinned woman, Ororo Munroe, stumbled around the corner of the building supported by a striking redhead, Jean Grey.
"What happened?" Cyclops asked the two women.
"Something attacked me," Jean said. "Scott, I never saw a thing."
Cyclops stood up and began to brush the slush off his uniform, "Yeah, she got me too."
"She?" Jean arched an eyebrow at that revelation.
"Don't start." Cyclops turned to Ororo, whose powers with the weather had earned her the nickname of Storm. "What about you?"
"Logan sent me to check up on Jean but I never made it that far. Whatever this mutant is she must have attacked me too."
"Speaking of Logan, where is he?" Jean asked, looking around.
"I knew you loved me, Jeannie."
Turning the three saw the last of their small group walking up behind them. The stocky Canadian snorted as he took in their bedraggled state. Apart from a few tears in his black leather uniform and some drying blood on one of his mutton-chop sideburns he was remarkably unscathed.
"Where were you?" Cyclops asked.
"Keep ya visor on," Logan replied. "After I sent Storm over to check on Red I ran into Sabretooth."
Storm shuddered at the memories of that crazed mutant. "I thought we'd killed him?"
"What can I say," Logan shrugged. "He's remarkably hard to kill, kinda like me."
"Yeah and just as appealing." Cyclops said dryly.
"Do we know what they took?" Jean asked Scott.
Cyclops shook his head as the team began walking towards the building. "Not a clue, I don't even know why they were here."
"It's an animal testing place right?" Logan indicated the building. "Maybe Sabretooth was looking for relatives."
"What if they're conducting research against mutants?" Storm suggested.
"Whatever's going on in there lets take a quick look round." Scott said. "See if anything obvious is missing, check the computers then get back home. Hopefully the Professor has a better idea what is going on."
"I confess to having no idea what Magneto and his people are up to." Professor Charles Xavier, creator and spiritual leader of the X-Men, gracefully maneuvered his wheelchair around his desk.
"What about Cerebro?" Jean asked, referring to the unique machine that connected Xavier with every mutant on the planet.
"I can contact the mutants involved, but they know only what Eric tells them."
"And you can't read Magneto, thanks to his helmet." Scott finished for the Professor.
"Exactly."
"So what do we know?" Ororo tucked some white hair behind one ear. "The Brotherhood has increased attacks in the last few months but their targets are small, petty."
"Animal testing laboratory," Jean ticked off the list on her fingers. "A weapons manufacturer, two separate police stations, a morgue, an intensive care unit, a computer shop, oh and don't forget that high school."
"Where they got that purple haired kid." Scott said. "And that's just this month!"
"There is no pattern to their targets," Xavier said. "Individually they might make sense, but why now? Why all at once?"
"I'm tellin' ya, they're yanking our chains." Logan said. "Making us run around like idiots. We should be actin' not reactin'!"
Ororo yawned. "All I know is I'm glad we found that substitute teacher because the last thing I want to think about is school tomorrow."
"How is Jessi going, Professor?" Jean asked.
"She seems to be fitting in nicely," he said.
"You ask me the woman's weird." Logan said.
Scott snorted. "We didn't and have you looked in the mirror lately, Logan? None of us are exactly candidates for the poster child of normalcy here."
"She is hiding something from us." Jean pointed out. "I can sense it."
"We've all hid something about ourselves at least once in our lives." Xavier said neutrally. "Right now she doesn't want to admit she is a mutant, she has her reasons and I'm sure she will reveal them in time."
"Why don't you just go poking around in her head?" Logan asked.
Xavier sighed. "Because that would be a breach of her privacy. I can't very well go out there and ask the rest of the world to trust that mutants won't go interfering in their everyday lives if I go around reading everyone's minds at will. We have a responsibility to uphold a rigid set of ideals and ethics, myself even more so."
Logan raised an eyebrow, "Didn't stop you from peeking in my mind."
"That's because he never expected to find anything." Scott said.
"Scott!" Jean fought to hide her smile.
"It's late and you are all tired," Xavier said. "I suggest we resume this discussion in the morning when we'll all be a lot more coherent."
"Sounds good to me." Logan stood up and walked out of the room.
The rest of the group quickly followed him.
Tink! Tink! Tink! Tink!
Rogue looked up from her Cornflakes, it was late in the morning and the only two people still eating were herself and the new substitute teacher. Everyone else was off filling in time with friends before classes started. The sub had started teaching a few weeks ago and not much was known about her, probably because she kept to herself and ate after almost everyone else had already gone. This had caused much speculation on behalf of the students. The only thing they knew for certain about her was that she once had a son, who was a mutant. The boy had died under mysterious circumstances; many had whispered that he had been murdered. The other most startling fact about the woman was the silver prosthetic she wore on her right index finger, no one had worked out the reason behind it.
Tink! Tink! Tink!
Rogue had been up late last night studying and the noise of the teacher tapping her cup was aggravating a headache. She cleared her throat; when nothing changed Rogue finally spoke up. "Miss Newton?"
"Yes, dear?" the newspaper she had been reading was dropped to the table to reveal a woman in her late thirties. She had a bright, ready smile and her light brown hair that was full of blonde highlights, fell to her shoulders in a layered cut that some celebrity had made very popular. Miss Newton always wore the most fashionable styles that accentuated her voluptuous curves. All the boys agreed that at some point in time she'd definitely had breast implants and probably some other alterations as well. As John had put it, "Nobody that old looks that good without a bit of help."
"Ah, have a headache," Rogue was explaining.
"Would you like me to get you some aspirin?" Miss Newton offered immediately.
"No, no, it was just that your, uh," Rogue gestured towards the older woman's right hand. "You were making a bit of a noise."
Miss Newton looked down at her prosthetic. "Oh I'm sorry, Marie," she said. "It's a bit of a nervous gesture. I didn't even realise I was doing it."
"Oh that's okay. Ah didn't mean to imply you were doing it deliberately."
Rogue wasn't sure if she liked Miss Newton or not. The woman was all sweetness and light to the adults in the mansion but as soon as they were gone she changed. When teaching she could bring even the most confident of the students down to size, by making them feel small and childish with her cutting remarks. She insisted that everyone call her 'Jessi' but the one and only time someone had Miss Newton had turned cold and distant and no one tried again. She also had a habit of calling Rogue by her real name, Marie, which she hated. It was the name her parents had given her and it was a name she had quickly abandoned, much like her parents had abandoned her when they learned she was a mutant. Not even the Professor did that anymore. As far as the young woman was concerned Rogue she was and Rogue she would always be.
"It's such a silly thing," Miss Newton looked at her finger. "That I sometimes forget it's there."
"Why do you wear it?" Rogue didn't really want to talk to the teacher but Kitty had been dying to learn more about the woman and she would never forgive Rogue for passing up such a golden opportunity.
"Well, when I was only about five years old my brother accidentally shut my finger in a door of our house. The force was so great that it cut off the tip of my finger."
"Wow."
"Wow, indeed. Lost the tip almost down to the first knuckle, you can't imagine the taunts I used to get from the other children at school," Miss Newton looked thoughtful. "Or maybe you can. Nobody likes being different. Maybe that's why I came here to help because in my own small way I know what its like." She leant across the table and held out her hand. "I had a friend who works with metal. He made it for me. Would you like a closer look?"
The prosthetic was dark silver in colour and covered Miss Newton's finger down to the second knuckle. Rogue reached out and ran a finger over the surface. She could feel the ridges that covered where the first knuckle would have been and enabled the device to bend in imitation of a real finger but she discovered that the rest of the prosthetic was covered in rows of delicately carved scales that were invisible to the eye. It reminded Rogue, in some weird way, of the skin of a reptile, all cool and inhuman.
"Why is the tip like that?" the girl asked pointing at the end that didn't look like a human nail at all but more like a talon.
Miss Newton shrugged. "My friend's idea of a joke, still it means I have a great party trick. All I need is some paper and some ink and I can write with it. Speaking of writing, don't you have class?"
"Oh!" Rogue glanced at her watch. "Ah'm late, see you after lunch, Miss Newton."
With that Rogue picked up her bowl and spoon, dropping them off at the dishwasher and hurried out of the room.
"Bye!" Miss Newton smiled at the girl's departure. As soon as she was once again alone the bright cheery smile faded away and she returned to her reading.