--I don't own anything Toad or Marvel related. Obviously. I'm certainly not making any money off them. This story will eventually contain some adult themes. You have been warned. This is a stand alone sequal to Obsession, so if you haven't read it you might give it a look, but you don't need to really to get this one. S'all good. Enjoy. Review if you don't mind. :-).

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"Get you another one honey?" The Blonde bartender asked him, reaching to lean across the counter and snag his empty glass, breasts hitting the edge of the wood and jiggling slightly.

Mort smirked beneath his hood, fairly certain the enticing act was just a ploy to get better tips. Not that it wasn't working. He nodded at her and held up one finger, only partially gloved, but the light in here was bad and he was confident she wouldn't be able to make out the odd skin tone.

It only took her another moment to pour him a generous helping of whiskey and coke. The club wasn't busy tonight. Only one girl was on stage, shimmying down a pole in platform heels, her black hair tied up in pigtails that went with the loosely configured schoolgirl lingerie. Mort was more attracted to the bartender.

She was well built, generous up top, with curvy hips and an attractive ass. Toned arms and belly, short blonde hair and a mischievous twinkle in her eye. A band tattooed around her upper left arm peaked his interest as well. Definitely more interesting than the dancer.

After going to check on the only other two customers at the bar, a couple of college guys that looked pretty plowed already, the bartender returned to him and rested her elbows on the counter. She was leaned over, her back arched slightly; looking far more flirtatious than Mort knew she'd be if she got a good look under the hood. Still, he wasn't adverse to the company. It'd been more than six months since he and Ororo had called it quits and there hadn't been a long line of female companionship waiting after her.

"So what've you got going on tonight?" She asked him, absently reaching to pour herself what looked like vodka and cranberry juice, sipping at it slowly through one of the tiny red stirring straws as she spoke to him.

"Not much," He answered with a shrug of muscular shoulders beneath the heavy jacket, "See where th'evening takes me."

She smirked at the reply and stirred her drink, eyes downcast and thoughtful. They were hazel, her eyes. He'd thought they were brown to begin with, but from this angle he could see they were lighter than that.

"What about you, love?" He continued, seeing that she seemed to want to spark a conversation.

"I'm here 'till two and then…" she shrugged, "Your accent's cute, where're you from?"

"York, England, originally, but I haven't been back in a long time," he answered honestly, "What about you?"

"Roanoke, Virginia. It's every bit as dull as it sounds." She paused wiping her hands on her jeans behind the counter and then reaching across the bar to offer to shake, "I'm Tabitha. Tabby to my friends."

Mort grinned under the hood and didn't hesitate to reach for her hand, giving it a firm squeeze and answering, "Mort. It's nice t'meet you Tabby."

Her attention was called away, shortly thereafter. A party of foreign businessmen came in wanting entertainment and no one could figure out their drink orders. Mort watched her as she smirked and rolled her eyes and smacked the hand of a guy who tried to get too friendly. She was something, all right. He'd long since finished his drink and was considering the merits of going out on a limb to ask her out. Better if he knew how she felt about mutants, but he supposed he'd find out as soon as she saw him in the light.

He'd never given much thought to dating a normal before. It wouldn't have been tolerated while he was in the Brotherhood, and more than that, he didn't figure any of them would be receptive to his particular brand of charm. Still, since Ororo his views on women had changed considerably. He drummed his fingers lightly on the bar getting Tabitha's attention, who shot him an apologetic glance.

He glanced at his watch every few minutes and then back up to Tabitha and one of the strippers arguing with one of the men who knew bits of broken English. Mort snorted and got to his feet. Oh well, maybe she'd be around the next time he came in. He headed for the door, pulling his heavy coat tighter around his body, already anticipating the biting chill outside.

"Hey," A hand on his elbow caught him just before he pushed open the door. He glanced up to see Tabitha, flushed slightly, noticeable even in the bad light, pressing a scrap of paper into his hand, "Call me tonight. If y'wanna."

"Definitely," he agreed, glancing down at the hastily jotted phone number she'd given him. She squeezed his arm briefly and then had to dart back to where the poor stripper was looking very overwhelmed with the translation issues. You'd think that naked women could bridge the communications gap, but apparently not.

Mort headed home, a not so shitty motel room. He hadn't quite got the hang of any sort of lease yet and just paid week to week at this place, but it was all right. Maid service every so often. A mini fridge with drinks if he wanted them. He took a quick shower, styling his hair expertly when he got out and sat at the edge of his bed fidgeting and watching the clock.

He wasn't sure what to suggest that they do. He raked memories of his time with Ororo, trying to recall what they'd spent their time doing. Fucking, pretty much. Yeah, more often than not if they were both happy they were naked. He frowned, deciding that probably wouldn't cut it with a woman he'd just met. He could take her drinking, but she worked at a bar. He could take her out to eat, but the only thing open this time of night was a shitty diner that was too brightly lit for his taste. He supposed he could bring her back here, just to hang out, but she might think he was trying something. Finally, he decided he'd leave the decision-making up to her and reached over to pick up his discarded cell phone. She should be off by now.

"Hey, is this Mort?" She answered the line. Mort smirked.

"Yeah, how's it goin'?" he asked lamely, fingering a package of cigarette's in his lap.

"I'm good, finally got those assholes out of here." She paused, "Did you want to do something?"

"Yeah, 'course. What'd you have in mind?"

"You wanna come over to my place? I've got beer and pay per view," She suggested, "I'm not much in the mood to go out, if you don't mind."

Toad grinned, "Nah, sounds fine to me. I'm not all that social anyway."

"Cool, just meet me outside the club in…can you make it in like fifteen minutes?"

"Yeah, no problem. I don't live that far."

"See you then."

"Bye."

Lighting a cigarette after locking his front door, Mort hurried down the stairs, taking them a flight at a time and thinking about his date. Her place. He wondered briefly if she was foolish or easy or if she really thought she could handle herself. Inviting a guy over she didn't know didn't seem like the smartest plan, but who knew. She looked strong enough and maybe she had a baseball bat or something in case guys got fresh. Or maybe he was just a special lucky bastard.

She was already standing outside under soft lamplight when he reached the club, hugging herself and shifting back and forth to stay warm. Mort jogged the last few feet so she wouldn't be kept waiting and greeted her.

"Hey, been waitin' long?"

"Just a minute," She promised with a shake of her head, reaching for his partially gloved hand, "My apartment's only a few blocks. Fuck it's freezing."

Mort nodded wordlessly, tightening his grip on her hand to warm it, and hurrying along beside her. He watched her breath cloud and cling to the air as they walked, hazel eyes fixed on their destination. She licked her lips every so often to wet them. She probably wasn't even aware she was doing it, but it was sexy. His gold eyes followed the tip of her tongue as it swept across her lower lip once more before he broke the silence.

"You always bring guys home you don't know?"

She smirked, proving that she wasn't offended and gave him a coy little smile.

"I've got a good sense about people. And I can handle myself. Why? You trying to tell me you're a dangerous man?"

"Sure," he agreed, "But you're alright."

"Oh yeah?" She teased, "I'm all special because I charged you single for doubles?"

"Hey a bloke's gotta drink, it's the little things in life that make the difference."

She grinned and punched in a code to her apartment building, shoving open the door when it threatened to stick and heading for the staircase. He hung back just a little to watch her hips sway as she walked and to give her the opportunity to lead since he didn't know their destination. She cast a glance back to make sure he was still there and then continued on to the third floor and her apartment. C 19.

"Beer's in the fridge," she told him, heading toward the bedroom as he shut the door behind him, "I'll just be a sec."

Mort gave the place the once over. Not especially tidy, but it wasn't a sty. Worn comfortable looking sofa faced a big screen television. A couple of cheap wooden TV trays set up like end tables, a pack of cigarette's discarded beside her telephone. Good, she smoked. The décor was sparing and consisted of a row of interestingly shapes liquor bottles across the back counter in the kitchen and a big poster of Pink up near the door to her bedroom. The coffee table looked handmade and badly at that, a couple of two by fours nailed together and an ashtray glued to the middle. He decided he liked it.

After retrieving a couple of beers he went to sit on the sofa and wait for her, popping the top off his and taking a generous swig to try and relax, hood still pulled down far enough that his face was difficult to make out. There was a bump from the bedroom and a "Damn," and then she appeared in the doorway with a sheepish smile wearing a looser fitting tee shirt and more comfortable jeans with holes in the knee.

"Are you not going to take the hood down all night?" She asked, closing the distance between them to drop onto the couch a couple of feet away.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably and reached up to move it back. He supposed he could warn her, but there weren't really words to do that adequately. He frowned, studying her face to gauge her reaction.

She looked a little surprised, certainly, but not horrified. Not disgusted. That was hopeful. He chewed on his lower lip, trying to relax a little and murmured, "Yeah…"

"I figured it was something…the way you kept that up all night, "She told him.

He nodded and fidgeted a little, reaching to take another swig of beer, "So did you want to call it a night then?"

She shook her head, "Shit no, don't be stupid." She moved a little closer to him on the couch and flipped on the television, reaching across him to get her beer.

Mort grinned, settling back onto the sofa. Well that had gone much better than he'd anticipated. He took another drink and helped her pick out a movie. He was inclined to let her watch whatever she wanted but she seemed genuinely interested in his contribution. They settled on one of the newer Die Hards and she shifted over to lean against him when he rested his arm on the back of the couch.

He didn't really pay much attention to the movie, stroking her hair gently with the arm that was around her, getting used to her scent and the soft curve of her shoulder against his side. They were on their second six pack before the movie ended and her leg rested on top of his, her whole body sitting closer.

"Y'drunk?" He asked, knowing he was feeling it himself.

"Yeah a little," she agreed, "Not too drunk though."

A grin split his lips as she nuzzled closer, her hand on his thigh. The touch was electric, already starting to make him hard.

"You?" He got the impression that it wasn't the first time she'd asked and he snickered.

"Yeah…yeah I'm pretty good."

She had a pretty laugh, genuine and not too girly. They barely knew one another but he was already finding little quirks about her that drove him wild. Even more when she turned to face him, her arm behind him and her hand stroking the back of his neck gently. He swallowed, gold eyes flicking toward hers, then down to her lips and back up to her eyes again.

His hesitation only lasted a moment and then he leaned in to kiss her. Lips parted and mouth warm and hungry, and she was just as eager as he was. His hands moved to her hips as he turned to press her back down onto the couch, feeling the smirk of her lips against his own.

"Tabby," he groaned, pleasantly surprised by the way the night was turning out.

"Toa-….Mort," She corrected too late. His gold eyes snapped open wide and he leapt backwards off the couch to stand, staring at the flushed blonde figure.

"Who th'fuck are you?"