Authors Note: I wrote this well before "X-Men:First Class" came out. This story assumes that Mystique spent some time as a free-lance agent before she became associated with Magneto.
FAMILY TIES
"Hey, honey. How's it going?" came a familiar, rough voice from behind Mystique.
Mystique froze - and then relaxed. If he had wanted to kill her, she'd already be dead.
Pivoting on her bar stool, Mystique turned to face Logan. He was standing almost directly behind her. She hadn't heard a thing until he spoke, which was both irritating and frightening. He hadn't changed since the last time they met. But instead of the dark kevlar suit that she was used to seeing him wear, he now had on a combination of leather, denim, and flannel that seemed to suggest a biker with a day-job as a lumberjack.
As his dark eyes trailed up and down Mystique's body, a slight smile of approval appeared on Logan's face. "Lookin' good, M."
But the smile didn't reach his eyes. They were dead serious.
Mystique was 'wearing' a form that she frequently used when she was bar-crawling. It was tall, blonde, and beautiful - with just a trace of sluttishness in the face and eyes. The original had been a high-priced call-girl in Los Angeles. She was ten years dead from a cocaine overdose.
Trying to get some control of the situation, Mystique slid slightly forward on her stool and gently brushed a bare knee against Logan's jean-covered crotch. "Did you change your mind, Logan?"
"Offer's still open? I'm kinda surprised," he said quietly.
"Yes. Everything's wide open," said Mystique, putting that purring edge on her words that men usually found so mesmerizing.
Mystique definitely didn't want to get into a brawl with Logan. There was absolutely no guarantee that she'd win, and Mystique didn't like playing those kind of odds. She hadn't stayed alive this long by depending on luck. Yes, she was just as fast as him and probably a better fighter in terms of raw technique. But Logan was almost impossible to put down and he simply kept on coming.
And those claws...
It took Mystique over a month to fully recover after the fight at Liberty Island. If she hadn't been a mutant, she probably would have died. She still had nightmares about the moment when Logan's claws - so terribly, shockingly, cold - had slid effortlessly into her body.
Mystique didn't want to admit it, not even to herself, but Logan scared the hell out of her. There were very, very few people that did that to her.
Showing no outward sign of what she was thinking, Mystique slightly increased the pressure of her knee on Logan's crotch. Then she tilted her head towards the far wall, where the restrooms were located.
"Why don't we go find a little privacy, Logan?"
In Mystique's experience, men were vulnerable, both physically and mentally, whenever sex was involved. If she could deflect Logan from whatever it was he wanted, that would be to her advantage.
And it wouldn't be the first time she'd been on her knees in a toilet. In fact, it wouldn't be the first time that...
Mystique banished that last thought before she could finish it.
Logan surprised Mystique by stepping away and settling into the seat next to her. Catching the bartender's eyes - he was staring at them anyway - Logan pointed to the beer taps and called out the name of a particular brand.
Mystique watched Logan out of the corner of her eye as she considered rabbiting for the door. If she left her high-heels behind, she'd probably be able to outdistance Logan. Of course, she'd have to avoid being slashed wide open in that initial split-second after she bolted. Logan had impressive reactions.
But then there was the fact that he could probably track her using his impressive sense of smell. And, for that matter, she wasn't sure if he was here alone. The others could be stationed throughout the area.
No. Her best chance was to stick around and try to brazen her way out of the situation.
Twirling her stool so that she was facing the walnut-topped bar again, Mystique picked up her drink - a $50 Scotch on the rocks - and took a sip.
"So if you're not here to kill me, and you're not interested in a blowjob, just what the hell do you want, Logan?"
A smile flickered across Logan's face, "So you figure we either have to fight or fuck? There's nothing in between?"
She ignored his question, "How the hell did you find me?"
"Cerebro," said Logan tersely. "I asked Charlie to track you down. I want to talk to you."
"This isn't a date," snarled Mystique. "Make this interesting or get lost."
Logan looked at Mystique, "We know about you and Kurt."
Mystique seemed to hesitate. Then she snickered.
"It took you long enough. I thought Xavier was supposed to be smart."
"Charlie was suspicious early on. So was I - you and Kurt smell alike. But it took some time to settle it."
"And how did you do that?" Mystique sneered.
"The cops got a blood sample from you. You left some lying around at Liberty Island after we had our disagreement there. Charlie got hold of the sample and used it to run a DNA test against some of Kurt's blood."
Mystique felt her mouth go dry. Of course, a DNA test. But that meant...
Still looking at Mystique, Logan took a drink from his beer, "We know that you're Kurt's mother."
And now Logan's dark gaze was boring into Mystique.
"And we know that I'm his father."
Mystique closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, she felt startlingly calm, but she couldn't bring herself to look directly at Logan.
"I'd like some answers," said Logan in a voice that was a strange combination of quiet and steel-hard.
Mystique swirled the ice in her drink.
"I first met you about twenty-five years ago," she said. She could hear Logan take a sudden, sharp breath in response to what she had said.
"Back then, you were part of Strykers' covert-ops team. It started off as a NATO organization. But Bill Stryker took it over and turned it into... I don't know... something that NATO thought was theirs, while Washington thought it was working for them. As near as I can tell, it was actually working for Stryker."
Logan nodded slowly. It was obvious that Stryker had known him during that period of his life that was clouded by amnesia - he had said as much up at Alkalai Lake. And from what the President had said, Stryker had run his organization any damn way he saw fit - exceeding and interpreting orders to fit his own agenda. So far, Mystique's story was sounding good.
Mystique continued, "By then, I'd sorted out how my powers worked. I hadn't met Erik yet and I was freelancing for a living."
Her glass was now empty except for the last of the ice. Mystique contemplated it and decided against ordering another one. She wasn't thirsty and suddenly she didn't particularly feel like getting drunk.
"Stryker paid me to pretend to be a certain grieving widow. He wanted me to pick up a package from a security deposit box in a Tehran bank. You were my contact in Istanbul. We met in a museum. I handed the package off to you and you gave me my money."
Mystique paused.
"And?" Logan asked calmly.
Mystique shrugged, "We got to talking. You dropped off the package with your control officer and we went out to dinner. One thing led to another and we spent the night together in a hotel. You went on your way the next morning. A couple of weeks later, I missed my period."
"We didn't see one another again?"
"The next time I saw you, it was at Liberty Island."
"What about Kurt?"
"At first, I was going to abort him. But then I decided not to."
"You wanted to be a mother?" Logan asked with a cold smile.
"Is that so hard to believe?"
Logan didn't respond.
"Once, I looked at the world differently than I do now," she said bitterly.
Logan decided there was no good reason to argue the point, "Okay. What then?"
"I had Kurt in Germany. There was a doctor there who specialized in unusual births. He came highly recommended."
"How did he end up in the circus?"
Mystique began staring at 'her' image in the mirror behind the bar. "It turned out that I wasn't much of a mother. So I decided to... to have someone else take care of him. Of course, I couldn't go through the normal adoption channels. I ran into this couple that worked in a traveling circus that wanted a child - any kind of child. At the time, the Germans had some laws that made it difficult for someone without fixed residence to adopt, so they were desperate. I gave Kurt to them. It seemed to me that a circus would be a place where Kurt would have a chance to fit in."
Logan frowned thoughtfully, "Kurt talks a lot about his adopted parents - it sounds like they were good folks. So it looks like that was a good call."
"And now you want to hear what I know about you," said Mystique bleakly.
Logan nodded. "Yeah. For starters, what name did I give you?"
Mystique turned her head and looked Logan in the eye, "You said your name was Kurt. I'm sure it was an alias - you were on a mission, after all."
Logan was silent for a several seconds. The he sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "Anything else?"
"No. You know the drill - you don't get specific about yourself when you're in the field."
"How was I dressed?"
"An off-the-rack business suit and tie. Heavy black boots that didn't quite go with a suit."
"Jewelry?"
"A wristwatch. You didn't have a wedding ring. Logan, you were dressed for a mission. Nothing you had on was your own."
"What did I say? Did anything stand out at all?" asked Logan with just the slightest trace of desperation in his voice.
"No. We talked about inconsequential stuff like the weather and Turkish food. We were both wary about saying anything that would give away too much about ourselves. It was just small-talk before hopping into bed."
"Had I been in the restaurant or the hotel before?"
"I picked the restaurant. The hotel was a small place just next door. I'm pretty sure you were never in either one before. I was in Istanbul again about ten years ago. That entire neighborhood was torn down and replaced by some sort of big trade complex."
For a long time, Logan sat as still as a stone, staring into the barely touched glass of beer on the bar in front of him. Then he sighed and got to his feet.
A thin smile appeared on Mystique's face, "Not going to try and beat information out of me?"
Logan tossed a twenty onto the bar, "Nope. No point to it."
Then he turned to leave.
"Logan..."
Logan paused and glanced over his shoulder at Mystique.
"What's he like?" Mystique asked softly.
Logan's eyes narrowed, "You've talked to him."
"Yes. But you've talked to him more."
After thinking it over, Logan relented and turned to face Mystique.
"He's a good kid and everyone likes him. He takes his religion pretty seriously - maybe too seriously, but I'm not a good judge of that kind of thing. He talks and jokes a lot and sometimes I wish he'd hold it down. On missions, he's really on the ball and I like having him on my team. He's particularly good with youngsters, and the kids at the school think he's the greatest thing since the invention of loud music. Oh, and he and Ororo are spending a lot of time together."
"Kurt and Ororo?" Mystique asked in a surprised voice.
Logan nodded, "Yeah. Kurt has a... a... manner about him. He doesn't care how you look. He's really good at seeing what's inside of other people. That's one of the reasons he's so good with the kids. Ororo likes and respects that."
Mystique took a deep breath, "Have you told him about us?"
"No."
"Are you going to tell him?" Mystique asked hesitantly.
"Do you want me to?" Logan countered.
Mystique went back to staring into the mirror. Logan waited patiently for her answer.
"I don't want him to know about me," she said finally.
"Okay," said Logan.
Mystique looked at Logan in surprise, "That's it?"
"You're his mother. So that part of this is your call. I'll go along with it and I'll see that Charlie does, too."
Mystique looked down, "Thank you."
Logan cocked his head and looked closely at Mystique.
"Raven..." he said, and then hesitated as if he was trying to find some specific words.
"Yes?"
"No matter who we are. No matter what else we've done. Something good did come from us."
Mystique nodded wordlessly.
Logan turned away and vanished into the crowd.