The Y Factor
Sequel to The Mirror. FOH on the rise, two new mutants come to Xaviers to stir things up.
I only own Kit, Mia and family and now Mike. Anything else is property of Marvel Entertainment, Inc., and Fox Entertainment.
Ace of Hearts
She looked around. The street was crowded, the perfect opportunity, they would be eating well tonight. She watched the drunken revelers, beads around their necks, laughing and enjoying the spectacle that was Mardi Gras. It was the perfect opportunity for them. All the tourists, all that cash they were carrying, and no one was being careful. She signaled her partner, she didn't have to see his eyes to know he had seen her. He started moving through the crowd. The mark was right in front of him. It should have been easy, especially for him, but something was wrong. The mark turned, his eyes turning yellow, and he smiled at her partner, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him toward where she was hiding.
Shit. It was a mutant. He had been caught. It was the first time she had ever seen him caught. Suddenly a hand dropped down on her shoulder. She tried to turn, but found herself held in place by the strong hand on her shoulder. She hoped it was the cops; they could talk their way out of problems with the cops, especially her fast talking partner. Her partner was brought to the alley where she was hiding, the mark holding his right elbow. She could tell he was concerned, even behind his ever present sunglasses.
"Dis not right." He said as he came close. "Let her go, mon ami, Remy is da one dat ya wan'"
"The girl will come along, at least until we have a chance to talk, Mr. LeBeau." Said an elegant voice above her head, she watched in shock as the mark began to shift, turning blue, and forming very feminine curves. Her red hair and yellow eyes were quite distinctive. "My Dear, let us get off the street." The blue mutant smiled a cold smile.
"Mike, chere, we in dis t'gether, non." Remy said to her as she was spun around and pushed further into the alley. There was a van at the end, and the two of them were forced into the open door. There were no windows in the back of the van, and Mike and Remy were seated facing the back of the van. Mike tried to count turns, anything that could tell her where in the maze of the French Quarter they were being driven, soon even her sense of direction and knowledge of her home city were confounded. Mike kept glancing over at her partner. They had met when she was just a kid. Foster homes hadn't been fun, and she had run away by the age of eleven.
Her first days on the streets of New Orleans had been hard, but then she had run across this kid. She hadn't known it at first, but he had been watching her for days, to see if she would make it, or go back to the comfort of wherever she had come from. He had bought her dinner, taken her to a place where it was safe to sleep. There had been other kids there, lots of them. They had their own safe place, their own organization, and they survived, well. There were no adults, Remy was the eldest, and he taught them how to survive.
He had told Mike she was a natural, she knew which the best marks were; which marks were the undercover cops, and which high rollers were scam artists. It was just a gut instinct, she didn't understand it, but soon she was his partner, the one who picked the mark, the one who helped plan, especially during tourist season. Mardi Gras could support them for six months or more if they didn't hit any other marks. Slowly her skills grew, and she could almost smell which marks had the most disposable wealth, which ones were good for quick cash, and which ones would be good for some of the other kids to follow home and clean out.
The van stopped. The door opened and the blue woman stepped out the door and grabbed Mike by the collar of her shirt, lifting her out of the van with little effort. Remy jumped up, to try to protect her, but got a foot in the gut for his trouble. Mike was slammed against the side of the van, a blindfold tied over her eyes, and her hands bound tightly behind her before she was lifted up and carried. She listened carefully, and paid attention to the smells. They were near the river front, sounded like an old warehouse; she could smell the silt and sediment from the Old Man, and the echoes off the walls. She could tell they took her through a door by the compression of the echoes of the footsteps of the person carrying her. She knew it wasn't the blue woman. It smelled like a man. She was thrown into a chair, and a band tightened around her chest, holding her in place.
She could hear voices, further back, Remy, the old man and the blue woman. Remy was arguing with them, and she could hear blows against his flesh.
"My Dear, please, that is no way to convince this young man to help us." The old man was saying. It sounded like it was the blue woman doing the hitting.
"I don't see why not. He is a useless sack of swamp garbage; I don't know why we need him anyway." Mike could hear a high pitched masculine chuckle near by.
"You are so going to get it, Mystique." She heard the man say softly under his breath. She knew he thought she couldn't hear him, and that allowed her to pick up another clue. Mystique, she had heard that name, and recently. It had been something about an attack on a Friends of Humanity meeting up near Shreveport, an attack by the Brotherhood of Mutants.
"Keep yu're hands to yu'reself," She could hear Remy shouting, as another blow landed on him. "Remy not goin' ta put up wit dis much longer." She could hear him; she was the only one who could hear that telltale little whine as he began to charge something. Something was going to blow up, and soon. She couldn't keep the smile off her face, and whiny voice shook her in the chair.
"What are you grinning at, bitch."
"I tink your boss might be in trouble." She said. He didn't know she could hear him running for the other room. If it had been anyone else in the chair, they might have missed his very soft footfalls. The explosion ripping through the area nearly deafened her. She started twisting her hands, trying to find out what they had tied her with. It was just a zip tie, good; she could take care of that. She reached up with one finger, and gently extended one small hooked claw. Its serrated edge caught the zip tie, and cut it smoothly. She reached up and felt the band around her chest, just a cargo strap even better, and her short claws made short work of it too.
She could hear people moving in the other room as she took of the blindfold. She had been right, it was an old warehouse, and right over the river, there was even a water exit. She grinned. Looks like she and Remy would be swimming out. She looked over and saw him climbing over the debris and bodies, and grinned. His glasses had fallen off, and his red and black eyes grinned back at her. Suddenly a blue hand reached out of the rubble and grabbed his ankle. He kicked it, hard with the other food, and she let go. He jumped out of the way, pulling out the small tube from his pocket. Mike couldn't believe these people were that stupid, letting him keep his staff. He popped it open and smacked the red topped head, hard. Hopefully she would be out for a while.
"That was very well played." Said a voice from above, there hovering above them was the old man, untouched by the blast.
"You can see why I would like you to work with us, my Brother. Your young friend too, I wasn't aware she was a mutant as well." He lowered himself gently to the floor between the two teens. Mike watched as large chunks of debris lifted off the two in the other room. Suddenly the back wall of the warehouse collapsed in, and five people in black leather suits rushed into the room.
"Always interrupting." The old man said as he threw the debris at them. One, who was wearing some sort of visor, started hitting them with red blasts, a dark skinned woman with white hair and white eyes raised her hands and a gust of wind blew many of the smaller pieces back against the wall. A younger girl with dark brown hair rushed over to Mike and grabbed her hand, just as one of the pieces started to fall, it fell through them, crashing to the floor as she was pulled along with the girl. A large man doubled up his fist and just punched anything that came close to him, a fist that seemed to be made of metal. Mike couldn't see the fifth one very well, as she was pulled to the ground by the young girl.
Another explosion rent the air behind her and she knew Remy had taken advantage of the distraction to blast the older guy with one of his cards. This time the blast threw more debris toward Mike and she felt a pain in her leg. She looked down and saw a twisted piece of metal going all the way through her thigh.
"Well that hurts." She said quietly before she passed out.
She heard a roar all around her. She was laying on her side and her leg HURT. She didn't want to open her eyes. She knew the piece of metal was still in there she could feel it fighting against her healing. She could hear Remy arguing with someone nearby.
"Remy don wan leave. Remy has frien's dat need him. Take us back." She could hear him struggling against something.
"I am afraid that is not possible. The police will be arriving at any moment, and we don't want them to know our involvement. Please, give us a chance; we can help you, help you both." A soft cultured feminine voice said.
"Yes, allowing the authorities to become involved in this altercation and learn of our timely rescue could provide some unwelcome attention." Said a deep voice, a voice Mike recognized. She had heard him over and over on the television and radio talking about mutant rights. Remy teased her mercilessly about her crush on the "Ambassador." And from the sound of his voice he was sitting right next to her. She thought she might faint again, and was glad no one knew she was awake. She just started praying to whatever saints might be listening that they hadn't gone through her pockets and found the picture she had cut out of the newspaper last week.
Suddenly she felt a warm hand on her thigh, a hand that sent a tingle all the way up and down her spine.
"Kitten, would you be as kind as to remove this protrusion from the young lady's leg. I believe her healing factor would work so much more efficiently if it were no longer a factor." That voice was right over her head.
"Leave Mike alone, non." She heard Remy struggling again.
"We are just trying to help her." Said the woman's voice again.
"This might hurt her." Said a gentle feminine voice nearby.
"I believe the patient is awake and aware, a suitable warning should be all that is required." Shit he knew she was awake. She opened her eyes and stared right into his blue ones. They were almost the same color blue as his face. She blushed furiously, her body reacting in a way that she almost didn't recognize a tightening low in her gut, and a building ache. Belle had described physical arousal to her once, and this was definitely what she had described.
"Oh my stars and garters…" He whispered a sudden look of revelation on his face. She didn't know exactly what he realized, but she hoped he would whisper like that again. It sent very pleasant shivers all over her, and made her forget the pain in her leg. A pain that suddenly grabbed her complete and total attention and the metal suddenly disappeared, and her healing kicked in. She hated it, when she healed, it HURT, and it felt like the wound reversing itself, and in some cases, like now the healing hurt worse than the initial injury. She screamed in agony. She could hear Remy screaming as well, trying to get to her, and then suddenly the pain was over. Her leg was as good as new, but the blue giant over her was sporting ten claw marks on his arm, where she had dug into it in pain.
"My goodness, young lady, you have quite a grip." He said as she watched the holes close up slowly on each arm. She wanted to cry. She had hurt him; she had drawn his blood with her claws, and knew he would never forgive her. She wanted to sink into the ground and hope he would forget she ever existed.
"Mike, Michelle, are you a'right." Remy said. She looked over to where he was sitting, restrained in a seat in what looked to be the inside of an airplane. Tears welled up in her eyes. Who were these people?
"I'm fine, Remy." She sat up, gently taking the hand held out to her by the blue giant. For some strange reason she didn't want to let go of him, but she didn't want to put her claws away either. She wiped across her eyes with the back of her free hand.
"Who are you people?" She asked.
"I am Ororo Monroe" said the dark skinned woman. "This is Kitty Pryde," she was pointing to the young girl that had helped her, "Piotr Rasputin," the big guy with the metal fists, although they didn't look metal now. He had a possessive hand on Kitty's arm. "Scott Summers is flying the plane, and this is Dr. Hank McCoy." She said pointing to the blue giant sitting on the bench next to Mike.
"Michelle DeVarney." She said, her French accent coming thickly through. She was still holding Dr. McCoy's hand, and let go quickly. Suddenly she heard laughter from her partner. He was looking at her hand, the one she had snatched back into her lap and was cradling possessively.
"Remy LeBeau, you shut yu're Cajun mout." She said, as he doubled over as best he could in laughter.
"Chere, but Remy tink it so cute," She kicked out and hit him in the shin, and while everyone was focused on him; she looked at the blood on the tips of her claws. HIS blood, as close as she would come to having any part of the man sitting next to her, the blue giant looked back to her, and handed her a towel to wipe her claws with. She gently wiped them off before retracting them back into her fingertips. The towel she kept in her hand. No one seemed to notice.
"Where you takin us?" Mike asked Ororo
"To our home in New York. You will be much safer there. Magneto isn't one to be trifled with, and if he is looking for you two, we would rather you be safely where he will have difficulty reaching you."
"New Yok" they both shouted. Mike thought she might have said Hell itself.
"It is just temporary, until we find out why Magneto wanted you. Once things are safe and if you don't choose to stay we will return you to New Orleans." Remy grumbled to himself, something about leaving the kids, and at least the fille were nice to look at, so far.
Mike grinned, and next to her Dr. McCoy laughed. She looked over at him out of the corner of her eye. His blue eyes were twinkling with laughter and his white teeth gleamed against his blue skin and fur. She felt every breath of his laughter vibrate through her body. What was happening to her? Ok, so he was totally hot, especially in that black leather outfit he was wearing.
Remy looked over at her, his shades were in his lap, and made this dopy face, big doe eyes and pouty turned down mouth – and then pointed at her and laughed even harder. She shook her head, snarling at him, and reached over and slapped his arm, but that just made him laugh all the harder. She gave up, leaned back and closed her eyes. She never in her wildest dreams ever thought she would meet her idol, and here she was sitting next to him, she felt her body growing warm. Suddenly, with an abrupt movement, as if something had startled him, he stood up and left moving further up toward the cockpit.
She heard the sounds of something being unfastened, and then Remy was sitting next to her, but her side still felt cold.
"You ok, chere?" He asked. All laughter was gone from his voice, and she knew that somehow their rescuers had given them some sort of privacy to talk.
"Yea, what make you tink I'm not." She quipped back. She bit back a snarl. She was on edge. She hated flying, hated being confined and hated knowing she had caused pain to anyone, and not only was he ANYONE, but Dr. Hank McCoy. She didn't know if she was biting back a snarl – or more tears.
"It not dat, it just you look lost fo a second dere, when da big blue 'Grover' ting moved." He whispered. He would tease her mercilessly about her crush, but he also cared, she knew it. He was the closest thing she had to family, and hoped he knew it.
"Be nice, Remy. Dey did save us, non." She whispered back.
"Oui." He didn't sound like he wanted to admit it.
"We was in way ov'r our head an you know it, frère" She said.
"Oui. Remy didn tink we get out o' dat one." He said. Suddenly the plane started to descend. Not a gradual decent, but straight down. Mike grabbed Remy's hand, in fear. "Remy tink des folk have lots o' toys ta play wid non." She laughed with him as the plane slipped lower and lower, and then came to a sudden, slightly jarring stop.
The back of the plane dropped down, and they could see a metal floor outside. The leather clad Kitty and Peter went down the ramp first, Dr. McCoy stopped and gestured the two young people to precede him. They stood up, Remy's duster sweeping the floor behind them as they walked down the ramp. She could hear Scott and Ororo talking back in the plane. Dr. McCoy walked past them, unzipping the front of his outfit as he passed. Mike felt the blood rushing to her face yet again. She had a sudden desire to see him out of that leather outfit, completely. He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes dark and hooded for just a second, before he looked away. She shook her head, and turned to face the welcoming committee.
There were two men and a woman at the end of the ramp. One of the men, an older gentleman, was sitting in a wheel chair. The other man, short with dark hair, and chewing on a cigar glared at the two of them as they came down the ramp. The girl, with dark hair and a white streak in front watched warily as they stopped in front of them.
"I am Charles Xavier" Said the older man, holding out a hand to Remy. Remy cautiously shook it.
"Remy LeBeau, but my frien's call me Gambit." Mike could see he had eyes only for Stripes, and watched as he threw her his most exaggerated wink. Mike just rolled her eyes, which caused the dark haired man to chuckle.
"Michelle DeVarney" She said when it was her turn to shake his hand. "My frien call me Mike."
"Well, Gambit and Mike, Welcome to my school for gifted youth."
"We didn come ta here fo no schoolin." Remy said, his red eyes on the older man, now.
"No, I expect you didn't. These are my associates, Logan and Rogue."
"What kind a name is Rogue, Chere?" Remy asked.
"What kinda name is Gambit, swamp rat?" She shot back. Mike grinned at the feisty southerner. She would definitely give Remy a run for his money. A door opened nearby and a dark haired young man came over.
"Sorry I'm late. My cab was late getting here." Rogue turned and flashed him a brilliant smile. Mike watched the gears in Remy's head start to turn. Uh oh, the last thing Remy needed was to know there was competition. Mike had a sinking feeling they wouldn't be seeing New Orleans any time soon, if Remy had anything to say about it.
"Bobby Drake, this is Remy LeBeau, also known as Gambit, and Michelle DeVarney, also known as Mike."
"Hi" said the young man as he shook their hands. "Welcome to Mutant High.
