Hey all!!! I made sure that this chapter was extra long to make up for the short one last time. I hope you enjoy it!!
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Logan's obvious flirtation did not go unnoticed. However, your mind continued to linger on his motive. Your appearance. A man like Logan,a rugged, good looking, bad boy by nature; what would he want with a good girl? Other then the obvious...
You passed by him and strode straight into the luxurious kitchen. Three stoves, three microwaves, and a giant stainless steel fridge. You grasped the handle and began to dig through the mountains of fantastic things to eat. Meals that you not be accustom to since before the death of your parents. You latched on to a Tupperware full of pasta and a fork, then you sat next to Logan who was already comfortably perched on a bar stool, root bear in hand. "This place never has any beer." He remarked.
"It is a school." You reminded him. You could feel your saliva collecting n the inside of your cheeks from the sweet scent. Immediately you dug in, neglecting to heat it up at all.
A half hour ticked by as you silently ate your pasta. "You're quiet all of a sudden. Must mean that it's good." He joked as you swallowed your last bite. "Full?" He questioned.
"Yeah, I'm stuffed now. I should be good until bed." You answered playfully.
"Alright then, let's see if we can't show you around." He said getting up, followed by yourself.
He took you too all corners of the mansion, coming back around full circle to the hall way in which you could remember walking down before you had met Kurt. A barrage of footsteps could be heard echoing through the hall. You looked up and saw a slender, beautiful women coming in the direction of yourself and Logan, "Hello Logan." She remarked, breaking the ice.
"Storm." Logan nodded. 'Storm...' You thought, 'I wonder what she can do?' You questioned yourself.
As you continued to walk, the three of your met face to face and you could observe her at a closer distance. Her skin was a perfectly even shade of brown and her hair, interestingly enough was a shade of pure white.
"And this must be Anne." She said looking at you sweetly.
"Yeah." You said nodding.
"This is her alright." Logan began, " I was just giving her a tour around the mansion." He finished. Storm looked at him for what was, in your opinion, too long of a time, and seemed to have a disapproving demeanor.
She took a few steps over and grasped the door handle of a large oak frame. "That's wonderful." She said simply, not enthusiastically. "I hope you're behaving yourself." She remarked back to Logan, though he gave her no response.
She opened the door and took a step inside, "Charles?" She questioned.
You could hear the familiar voice of the Professor from inside the room. "Ah Ororo- come in. Bring Logan and Anne with you." He added to your surprise, but not Logan's or Storms.
She held open the door for you and smiled while nudging her head signaling for you to go in. As you took your first few steps you found yourself plunging into yet another extra ordinary situation. There, beside the professor for who you had barely gotten a chance to know stood a large blue creature. With the exact same shade of blue exerted over his entire body as Kurt. It was then that you were very thankful to have met Kurt first...
Both men began to make their way over to where you stood. You froze, unsure of how to handle yourself aside from refraining from a stare down. Like Kurt, and yourself, he was difficult to miss.
"Ororo!" The blue man called now taking larger, more aggressive steps towards Storm.
"Hank!" She said with just as much happiness. They embraced and lingered by each others bodies for a few seconds, "I love what you've done with your hair!" She remarked still beaming.
"You too." He replied. She placed her hand in her hair sweetly, pleased b his compliment.
His gaze shifted to Logan directly after, "Who's the fur ball?" Logan began rudely. Your eyes widened with embarrassment, though Logan did not seem phased at all.
"This is Dr. Henry McCoy. He is the Secretary of Mutant Affairs for the United States." The Professor wisely interjected. Your ears perked up as you ran the idea through your mind. You had only now become aware of any kind of Mutant Affairs. 'the U.S.A. has a Secretary for Mutants?...' you thought curiously.
McCoy seemed to be un- phased by Logan's first comment, "Wolverine." He began in greeting, "I hear you're quite the animal." He replied to Logan's cantankerous remark. You hardly knew the man, but given the rudeness that Logan had felt the need to display before, you felt that for argument's sake, you would be on his side.
"Looks who's talking." Logan impertinently replied once again. This time, you wanted to positively die. His impoliteness transcended everything that you had come to respect about him. McCoy frowned at this comment.
"Henry, I don't believe you and Anne have yet met. She is our newest recruit." He said smiling to you and him.
He seemed to quickly shake off Logan's comment s turn his full attention to you. He extended his hand, unlike Kurt's; it was more or less the same a regular human. His eyes traced your face, as all eyes usually did, and then he spoke outrightly, "Lovely." He said, nodding his head down in salutation. You smiled as you recognized his wanting to be polite. He perhaps was unaware that he was offending you.
"Nice to meet you." You finished.
Once the introductions were over, the professor jumped in right on time, you adored his ability to refrain from any silence. "We were just discussing the ware abouts of Mystique and Magneto..." He said absently, not expecting you to understand at all, 'Mystique', 'Magneto', these were just empty words that you deemed appropriate to disregard.
"You know He's going to go get Mystique right?" Storm said matter- of- factly. You looked sideways at Logan who stood now against the wall with his hands in his pockets listening inattentively. He looked over to you and smiled slightly, like their conversation was not the most important thing in the world. Given Logan's attitude, you were unsure of whether or not to trust his judgement.
"Magneto's not the problem. At least not our most pressing one. A major pharmaceutical company has developed a Mutant antibody...A way to suppress the X gene." Dr. McCoy spoke knowledgeably. Everyone's ears perked up instantly, yours included. The professor seemed most interested, leaning forward in his chair.
"Suppress?" Logan interrupted, sounding interested for the first time since entering the room.
"Permanently." McCoy finished. "They're calling it a cure..." Your eyes widened profoundly, as did the rest of the people present, all looking to the professor, who, after hearing the news leaned back into his chair upright.
Storm was the first to speak after the blow was delivered, "Well that's ridiculous. You can't cure being a mutant." She said angrily looking at McCoy.
"Well, scientifically speaking-" He began.
"Since when did we become a disease?" She intruded on his words harshly, not blaming him, but certainly making her opinion known. "Who would want this cure? I mean what kind of a coward would take it just to fit in?" She continued, siting down on the near by couch in utter distruaghtness.
McCoy, took a step forward, "Is it cowardice to want to save ones self from persecution?" He asked gently, playing devils advocate. "Not all of us can fit in so easily." He reminded her, lifting his hand to demonstrate his own face. His words were very wise indeed in your own opinion. Surely, Storm had a point as well, but on the other hand not everyone who was a mutant chose it...
You immediately thought of Kurt...Would he be the kind of person who might chose to get this done to him? Would you?.....
"Well for all we know the government helped cook this up." Logan contributed sternly, finally creating an opinion for himself, which, of course, had to be the most rebellious one.
"I assure you the government had nothing to do with this." McCoy said clearly.
"Welive' heard that before." Logan responded, unconvinced.
"My boy, I've been fighting for Mutant rights since before you had claws." McCoy said sounding proud while puffing out his chest. Logan looked at him for a split second appearing to be about to laugh.
"Did he just call me boy?" He asked, turning his body to face the professor and Storm who both looked as though McCoy's comment was foolish. You thought that it was a perfectly respectable thing to say from McCoy's point of view. Logan couldn't be any more than Thirty himself...Could he?
Suddenly.
The doors of the office swung open again violently. The opener, a familiar face. Rogue. "Is it true? Can they cure us?" She asked sounding more than thrilled as she entered. "I just saw the news on T.V."
It was silent, and no one seemed to know how to answer her properly. Alas, your awkward silence returned. Taking the opportunity to join into the conversation that you been itching to converse around, you chimed in, "If they can, I want to know all the details."
All heads then turned to you, again, none with any kind of answer. Logan's seemed to have turned the fastest...
"Yes Rogue it appears to be true. And Anne, we will have to get all the details we can in order to properly inform or students..." The professor began.
Logan remained perfectly silent, as his gaze shifted from you to Rogue. One thing that could be said about Logan was his ability to respect the decisions of others if it was their business alone. He seemed sympathetic to the young girl who could touch nobody...And interested in the woman who could kill in the event of fear, and remain ageless for a long period of time...
"No." Storm spoke up, clearly and concisely. Everyone's gazes then shifted to her, "They can't cure us." She stood up and looked to both you and Rogue with a motherly concern. "You wanna know why?" She asked rhetorically, " because there's nothing to cure- nothing's wrong with you." She finished. "Or any of us for that matter." She finished looking at the men who were yet to say anything.
"Excuse me." A voice carried and interrupted from behind Rogue. All heads seemed to veer towards it. There, in the doorway stood a man with a large black blazer. He was blonde, and very tall, a serene kind of troubled expression painted on his face. "I heard that there was some kind of issue about the cure. His face gave everyone a once over. This time, rather than a long lingering stare, he delivered onto you a quick double take that was soon forgotten and fixated on the professor. You respected his composure...
"Yes, Warren. Thank You for coming." It became apparent to everyone in the room that the professor had psychically summoned him. The professor turned his chair to face the rest of the ever growing audience, "Warren Worthington, otherwise known as Archangel is the son of the Cure's developer. He arrived here about a week ago after having gone through the pressure of having the cure trusted upon him himself." The professor finished.
You listened intently and wondered what it was that this man could do that would make him consider the cure, aside from the fact that his father had obviously pressure him into the idea.
Everyone seemed to look at him for a while, wondering with keen curiosity what kind of information he might have. He grabbed hold of his blazer with both hands and slowly enabled it to slide off his shoulders. Then, he began to remove his shirt as well. You instinct to look away was not stronger then your curiosity. You watched as he slid the other shirt off and revealed his exposed chest. A moment later, everyone seemed to be in a sort of awe that transcended any kind of worldly reaction. He fanned out a pair of glorious white angel wings from behind his back. The opened extremely wide, the feathers thick and catching the light beautifully. It was breathtakingly beautiful, and all that you could think of in that moment was why anyone in their right mind would possibly want to remove something so beautiful?
Hypocritical perhaps. But you wondered the very thing that people would be wondering about you. You shook your head and deposited the logic deep within your mind. 'No...There is something wrong with me....' You thought to yourself. Your classic trait for which you could not ever seem to shake. There was something wrong with only you, everyone else was perfect.
"Any kind of physical transformation will be jarring. Extremely jarring. Mutants who run to the cure for the answer to their physical problems will go through a great deal more suffering that anyone else." He explained, reaching back for his shirt.
There were far too many questions to accomplish now... And none of them seemed to be able to come to the surface. There was too much to soon. You continued to wrack your brain as the conversation between Warren and the others continued.
Logic told you that Warrens issue made sense. At first, to him the cure must have been a terribly perfect solution. He had the wings of an angel. And like yourself, you had imagined that others would create a background story for him without even meeting him. The calling card for people who drew to much attention was to fill in the blanks and imagine a life for them that they never had. People did it with you all the time. Assuming that because you were beautiful that you had so many wonderful adventures and multiple arrays of men who loved you. Lies. The fictions of a deranged imagination. 'They probably did that to him too.' You thought. Though it pained you to admit it, his wings, being as breathtaking as they were- were likely a bother. People would see him as a real angel. Perhaps even worship him and use him to enforce their religious believes. It was then that you felt two emotions. One, that you were pleased that you did not have that kind of responsibility- bringing people's religious beliefs into action, and two, pity. Anyone who had to deal with that kind of responsibility, not volunteered was bound to become depressed... You knew it all too well.
"Anne, Rogue." The professor spoke up, shaking you from your thoughts. "I think it may be best of the two of you would excuse us for a while."
"Oh, of course." Rogue spoke up.
"Sure thing professor." You added, walking towards the door. You turned your head to catch Logan's eyes as you left.
"I'll got too." Logan said as he saw you move, sitting up from his lazy lean.
"Actually Logan, I was hoping that you cold remain here. I need to discuss a few things with you." The professor asked. Logan looked to you for a second then lifted his chin for you to go ahead. Rogue grabbed you by the arm and signaled that she would take care of you while he was busy.
"Nice to meet you Storm. Dr. McCoy." You nodded at both of them as you and Rogue walked passed Warren and out, his eyes looking to you once more as he continued his last thing you saw on your way out was Logan, going back into his leaning position watching until you left.
As Rogue closed the door she turned to you and signaled for you to keep walking. "Come on. We'll got out to the terrace. You can meet a few more people there..."
"Alright." You said, astonished that she did not pick up where she left off inside.
You thought too soon, it took only seconds for her to irrupt, "Can you believe it? A Cure! I mean I never in a million years thought that...Urgh, it's just incredible!" She squeeled.
You watched her go on and on as your own barrage of thoughts ran through your head. She was priceless. So young still, 17 at the very most, and had never been able to touch anyone. And better still, her transformation would not be as painful because it had not manifested in her physically... You wanted to listen to her ramble all day- she was so happy.
Her smile turned your way as you both continued to walk, "You don't think its cool?" she asked.
"Hrm?" You began, "Oh no I do. I really do. I'm so happy for you..." Unsatisfied with your answer she chimed in again,
"Do you think you'll get it?" She asked, eyes wide.
"I guess so... I mean, I've never wanted this. Everything that I hate about myself is placed soully in this mutation. I could go back to normal again..." You began. "But on the other hand...I don't know. It's complicated. I mean, I understand what Storm was saying completely. Shouldn't people just say off and accept us?" Your own words resonated in you. Did you really want the mutation to go away? Or did you just want people to stop starring at accept you the way you were?...
Rogue smiled and put her head down, absorbed in her own thoughts completely. As you continued to walk you noticed a pair of French doors leading outside
"Hey Rogue!" A voice called out from behind the doors. In seconds you found yourself face to face with a blue eyed boy with a smile painted on his face. "Hey..." He repeated again, looking at you as well as Rogue.
"Bobby." Rogue stopped him as he continued to look at you shamelessly. The trance was broken, he quickly looked to Rogue. "This is Anne. She just got here this mourning."
"Hi." He smiled letting out a breath of air. He was young. Too young for you, and so you humored his prepubescent smiles.
"Hi."
"I thought maybe she could hang out with us for a while" She suggested.
"Uh..." He looked to you again, away from Rogue, "Sure, sounds...good." He ended clumsily speaking.
You took in a deep breath this time and turned your head to left to avoid more doting conversations. Then, just across the way, you saw something that made your heart leap. In the branches of a large shaded oak sat Kurt, alone.
You smiled, turning to Rogue. "Hey, do you mind if I just go for a walk on my own. Just around the mansion. I'll be back."
She shook her head, "No, go right ahead. We'll probably still be out here when you get back."
"Great. I'll see you later." You began to jog lightly towards the tree about a football field away, staying close to the shady shadow of the mansion. 'Thank God...' You thought o yourself, you had only spent 5 minutes away from the adults and already you were in desperate need of their company. And Kurt...You could not believe your luck in finding him, you needed to apologize...
You took in a deep breath, dying to yell and call for him, "Hey Kur-"
"Why hello petit." You stopped, as those words filled in for the words that you were about to yell. You closed your mouth, certain that someone had definitely spoken. And if you were correct, the person who was speaking to you was most definitely;
"Remy?" You said as you looked to your direct left. Your attention of Kurt was so keen that you had barely noticed your peripherals at all. There he leaned, on the ledge of a completely open window, his legs inside. You noticed the deck of cards in his hand and the neatly arranged ones lying directly in front of him on the ledge.
"Feeling much better I gather?" He asked, looking at you from the top of his bedroom eyes.
"Yes. Much better…" You said as you looked back to Kurt once more as you strode towards Remy. "Thanks again." You said, almost reluctant to thank him too much. He smiled up at you again not baring any teeth as he began to pick up the cards and neatly cup them in his hands to form a deck. "Does that kind of thing happen to you often?" He asked, his eyes narrowing on to you yet again as he threw the cards in the air and managed to catch each and every one again. He continued to shuffle in every possible way, watching you, watching him. His ostentatious attitude could be felt a mile away.
"Well I…" You began becoming increasingly, painfully intrigued. "…It normally only happens when I get startled..." You shook your head and literally propelled yourself to the window sill, disregarding your old conversation, "How are you doing that?"
He took the deck and cut it in half, placing his hands about a two feet away from each other. With haste, he began to allow the cards to pass with ease between the two points, "practise" he lied. It became devastatingly obvious to you then that he had the ability to do those kinds of things.
"Parlour tricks aren't exactly a common mutant ability." You taunted. He smiled at your comment and continued to entertain you. It was incredible to watch, and though you did not want to humour him- it was hard to look away.
"The name of the game is War." He explained to you, "Might I deal you in?" He asked debonairly staring down at you from his perch. You gave him a look that positively screamed uncertainty and inner debate. "Remy'll go easy on you." He said leaning in flirtatiously.
"I've never played before."
"Never?" He asked surprised. Why did everyone have to be so surprised by your boring life up until now?...
"No, but I've seen it been done." You tried to vindicate yourself to this obviously well experienced man. Why you wanted to prove you had no idea. Perhaps, that just once, you wanted to live up to the image people made for you…
"Good girl." He said crudely, reminding you of Logan's continuous cliché, "gambling is a dirty habit." He said, leaning in vivaciously, "very naughty." He added quickly, continuously looking at you with his come hither expression. His accent was running thick as usual, dripping profusely with the Cajun influence that you were beginning to appreciate more and more.
"I know a worse one." You admitted, looking back at him testily.
"And what's that?" He said again, humouring you.
"Starring." You finished, your mouth curved upwards in a one sided kind of smirk as you looked to the ground. You could hear him blowing air out from his nose in a single laugh, knowing he'd been caught, but wasn't embarrassed. "So, what are the stakes?" You reminded him, "I'm broke, you won't get a penny out of me." He took in a deep breath and leaned his back against the left side of the sill, "Let's keep it simple shall we? The winner is entitled to a favour." He said smiling menacingly.
You paused yet again, somehow deep within knowing that you were in for some trouble…The name Gambit worried you greatly… But how could he cheat? You were right there, and after all, it was only War. It's a game of luck!
"Alright." You said foolishly, turning your body upright in order to see the playing field. Your chest just reached the opening of the window, and you placed your finger tips on either side of the sill.
"One card draw, two drops. Aces are high." He said exuding an air of confidence. He seemed now to be remarkably in his element, and the way he spoke made you feel as though card games themselves belong to him completely. Finally, he ended his superior shuffling and slammed the cards on the table to your right. His professionalism was almost humorous to watch.
"Ladies first." He said taking his hand off the deck, and signaling for you to go first. You drew your card and watched him draw his before you took a look. He seemed like he was playing by the rules. "I'll stay." He remarked upon looking at his.
You let your eyes travel downwards and saw your card, 'The three of spades… Urgh…' you thought. "I'll drop." You said placing the card to the invisible gutter on the left.
"That's drop one." Remy reminded you, his eyes fixated on your hand as you drew your second card. You looked, 'The Queen of hearts. Good' you thought you yourself. You began to contemplate you final move. Would you play? Or would you stay? You had one drop left, and the Queen of Hearts was a hell of a high card to be gambling against. And who knew what he had… 'He stayed…' You rationalized. 'He must have had something good… But was it higher than the Queen of hearts… Maybe he's bluffing…Trying to get me to drop again and pick up a worse card…' You continued to debate within your mind, but your constant need to play it safe remained ever imbedded in your brain. The boring life in which you were so accustomed to had an unpleasent hold on you like nothing else. 'The Queen is a safe bet…Taking another could be fatal…'
"I'm staying." You called finally. His smile never left you as he patiently waited. It became apparent to you that he was a patient man indeed.
"Ladies first." He repeated, his southern chivalry never ceasing. You puckered your lips at the idea. You did not want to show your card first, but you began to lower your hand none the less.
"Queen of Hearts." You said smiling, though you fate had not yet been decided. He smiled wider now, baring his teeth.
"Playing with the Queen of Hearts…" He began slyly, "That's dangerous business…You know, normally, she's my lucky lady. I always save her for last... But..." He continued looking remorseful, "Sorry cher." He flicked the card seamlessly in his hand between his middle and ring finger, "Ace o' Hearts. That beats the Queen." He finished.
You let out a breath of air, "Damn it…" You ended, slumping your shoulders down.
"Don't feel so bad, I've never lost a game." He said. You shot your head up and caught his eye as he collected the stray cards. "If you dropped, this would have been your next card." He said flipping up the next card in the deck masterfully. "Ooh, Ace of Spades… That's a high." He said turning his head slightly as if to say, 'how unfortunate.'
"Urgh, I was one card away?" You questioned.
"Better luck next time Petit." He said pretending to be sympathetic whilst shuffling the cards dramatically. "Now…About that favour…" He said, again, impending onto you his devastating stare.
You swallowed.
Hope you all liked it! Please message me with your comments so that you can secure this story on my list of "coninue". Otherwise it might end up being unfinished if it doesn't have enough fans. Peace!
