Disclaimer: I own nothing related to X-Men, movie or comic.

Ramblings with Ranger: This is a short follow-up of Choice. This is what I imagine Moira might have been thinking after her memory was tampered with. Enjoy!


Why

I sat down heavily on my bed and ran a hand through my hair. It felt greasy and grimy between my fingers, but I could not bring myself to care. "Gentleman, this is why the CIA is no place for a woman." The words from earlier in the day echoed in my head. I would be in the typing pool for goodness knows how long, now, but at least I still had a job. It was all because of him.

Did Charles really tamper with my memory? Could he really do that? Yes, it seemed he could. There wasn't any other explanation for it. But why had Charles tampered with my memory? I had trusted him. I only remembered flashes, bits and pieces. Mostly I remembered a sweet, fleeting kiss. I remember feeling utterly blissful, as if I had almost loved him, but I could not remember what I had truly felt.

What had I done? What had I known? It must have been something important – vitally important. I hoped he had done it to protect himself and his fellow mutants. I could not blame him for that. I could have even forgiven him if that was why he had done it.

But why was it necessary to tamper with my memory, to make me forget everything? He made me so infuriatingly curious as to what I had known, what I had seen. It seems, according to the file, that I was in the thick of the action and was now the only key to what had actually transpired. I hated that I could not remember - not because a file was incomplete, but because I wanted to know what I had been a part of. What if my involvement in the incident put my in harms way? I do not know who exactly to be wary of.

But what could I do? I did not know how to contact Charles – which he, doubtless, fully intended.

I wanted nothing more than to ream him up one side and down the other. He probably hadn't bothered to ask my permission. I don't know if I would ever agree to have my mind messed with.

But why did he do it?

Why didn't he ask me?

Why?