Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made from this work.
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It wasn't the first time they had to lay low after someone had tried to kill them, and the way Rogue saw it, it sure as hell wouldn't be their last. Straddling Logan as he laid belly down against the bed, she ran her hands down his taut muscles, grazing her nails against his naked flesh as a reminder of nights past. A low growl rolled from his chest with a throaty grunt that tickled her in ways his touch never could.
"I ever tell you I thought my first time woulda been in a shitty no tell motel like this?" Rogue said with a sad laugh as she thought of her life left behind in Meridian.
Trailing fingers across his bare back, his hiss said she was close to the stubborn shrapnel buried deep in the meat and muscle. Finding her courage in a swig of whiskey, she passed the bottle back and reached for a pair of nitrile rubber gloves picked up at a hardware store along with a pack of razor blades and slender needle nose plyers.
"And here I thought you were supposed to get good and liquored up before ya had someone doing a bit o' back alley surgery on ya."
"It'd be a waste o' whiskey, I'm ready anytime you are Darlin'."
Cutting deep until she felt the blade run against the scrap of twisted metal, his hiss of pain turned into a choked chuff of breath as she started digging with the plyers until she got a good grip on it. Yanking it out with all the aplomb of pulling off a bandaid, his flesh mended before her eyes, wiping away the blood that was the only proof of his injury.
"One down..." Bullets she was used to digging for, there had been times they didn't get forced out as his wounds mended, but shrapnel was a new one to her.
"Feels like I got something right around here..." Running his hand along down his back to point at one spot, she cleaned her blade in the bath of rubbing alcohol his first trophy laid in.
"I swear I can almost see it, must be a big sucker."
Carving him up until she had it out, how much it hurt was told by the sweat dotting his back. "Have a couple shorts worth hun, see if that doesn't help at all."
"Just need to get my mind off what your doin' back there, why don't you tell me about how ya thought your first time woulda went?"
Shaking her head as he turned the table on her, she reached to have a swig and was glad that most of him was outta her system so she could enjoy a buzz. Running from the strip club had passed by in a blur, dodging their tail with twists and turns and a couple jaunts down in the subway.
"Well, lemme tell you this, my house had damn thin walls which taught me what my folks havin' a nap on Sunday's really meant. If I didn't want to hear their bed squeaking and rocking I'd better get on out and go ride my bike or something."
Forgetting everything she was supposed to be doing, her hands fell into the familiar as she started to massage his back. It was enough to make her wish for the candles and incense that usually burnt as they soothed away the stiffness and ache of sore muscles of a training session, massages often enough turning into foreplay before a tumble in the sheets.
"So I always kinda figured if I ever found me a boy who I wanted to try doin' more than kissing with, that there was no way we'd be doing it in my room where my Daddy could find me."
"What about his place?"
"And be the girl hiding under a blanket when his parents catch us? Heck no!" That was always the way it was painted on the television, the boy out there hiding his junk behind a pillow while the bashful girl ducked under the covers.
Working her thumb against another telltale hard knot hidden beneath his supple skin, Logan gave a nod to say she'd found another piece. Cutting with growing confidence, she added another scrap to the rest.
"So how did ya figure it'd go down?"
"Well, as there was no way I saw myself dating a boy who didn't have a car, I figured I'd be sitting in it while he went in and got the key. I'd dip into the bathroom and get changed..."
"Into?"
"The kinda bra and panties that woulda gave my Momma a heart attack if she ever found." Rogue admitted, "Kinda stuff Kitty, Jubes and me used window shop for at the mall."
"Used to?" Oh he was interested, his mind anywhere but on her picking at his back like he was a dog who got on the wrong end of a porcupine.
"Well I sure ain't sixteen anymore, when we go shoppin' for something we wanna show off to a special fella we go a little more upscale than the mall these days..."
Grinning at the memory of those silly days spent at the mall, her friends trying to make her feel comfortable in her own skin shopping for scandalous intimates, Rogue felt her stomach go tight from worry for Jubilee just then.
"I might just have to treat you girls to a shopping trip once we get ourselves outta this mess, then maybe a special fella will get treated to a show."
Smiling from atop her lover, ran her hands down his back right to the hem of his jeans, hooking her thumbs in them as she ground against him.
"I get it all?"
"All the shit that was bugging me, rest o' it's just slivers not worth a pair of tweezers let along plyers."
Twisting beneath her to roll to his back, Logan laid there with her still straddling him and the obvious bulge in his pants.
"We gonna call the Professor?" She could have been Eve for the temptation he posed to her.
"Why don't you catch a shower while I handle that."
A shower was something else she wanted, still covered in sooth, dust and sweat after their adventure at the strip club. Sighing as she stepped back from the edge of her own arousal, a smile tugged at her lips as she remembered one more detail from her fantasy of her first time. With her lover lying sated on the bed she'd tempt him to join her, wandering off as a seductive silhouette of swaying hips.
Pulling off her shirt that had her hair fall and flow down her back, she threw it aside with utter abandon and tossed away her bra next. Looking over her shoulder as she worked at the brass button of her jeans, she stripped out of them with a shimmy and shake until she could step free of their bunched bundle at her feet. In only her panties she stepped into the bath, leaving the door open in invitation as she ran the shower...
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"They laughed when I told them to put a couple of uniforms with the body." Greig mumbled conversationally.
"All I have to say is they better not be yanking my chain with the ones they got upstairs." Holinka muttered, all she wanted to do was clock out and catch a few hours of sleep so she could wake up to any new developments in her case.
"How did that call go?"
Digging out her phone, Miss Munroe had been so kind to send a few photos of Mister LeBeau's date. Picking out one she liked herself that showed the young woman posing with a surfboard down on a beach in Australia, Greig took the bait with a whistle worthy of a catcall.
"Meet Jubilation Lee, alias Jubilee. A former student who made good, she went to school at teacher's college down in Oz."
"Where were teachers like her when I was in school?"
"Maybe I shouldn't tell you that she also handles coaching their would be gymnasts." Rubbing a little salt in Greig's wound, Holinka pocketed her phone and looked to the numbers climbing closer to their floor.
"Now I really want to get Mister LeBeau alone so I can hit him up for a few pointers about how to up my game. I mean I'm not asking for a Miss Lee or nothing, but shit if I've never had a badge bunny come onto me."
Hitting their floor, a crime scene photographer was having a field day with four stiffs in suits lying in pools of their own blood, all but one. Wondering what made that one different, Holinka walked up and crouched with the deceased as she sipped her coffee. Balling her fist to hold against a mean bruise on the deceased's neck, while not as livid as the ones she was used to from cases of domestic violence it sure as heck looked like a solid punch had been responsible, one that dwarfed her fist.
"Throat ripped out, eyes gouged out, oh...we got a winner here. He was only shot, but damn if the shooter wasn't showing off. Right between the eyes..."
"So what do you think? A deal gone bad?" Holinka asked, having a look around for the officer in charge of the crime scene when she caught the likely candidate dry heaving at a construction fence.
"I couldn't care less until someone proves to me this has any connection with our case other than the similar style of street meat we saw on the way up."
Two jumpers in one day was a new record in her own personal experience, but Greig was right. She wanted some hard evidence that she should add this case to her workload before she did any heavy lifting.
"Ask and ye shall receive."
Having a look at the newcomer, he had Fed written all over him, from the standard issue suit, shoes, and swagger. Looking to be in his late fifties with salt and pepper dotting his hair, he walked up with a folder in one hand and a Starbucks coffee in the other. What surprised her was that it was the coffee he handed her and not the folder, feeling more than a little slighted that he thought himself too important to hold his own cup of joe.
"I called down to the station, black and two sugars right. Oh, Detective Greig, there's one for you too."
With her cheeks still burning from embarrassment at thinking the worst of this Fed, Holinka pounded back her lukewarm coffee for a sip of the Starbucks that soothed her irritation and flustered ego. As much as she wasn't one for the fancy or pretentious coffees that were in vogue, it wasn't a bad cup considering how tired she was.
"I guess we'll get introductions out of the way. Special Agent Jennings at your service, and I bet you're thinking I'm here to take over this case right?"
"That's usually how it works when a mutants is involved in a murder." To date she had three such cases passed off, but this was the first case she was willingly ready to hand over only to have it sound like she was stuck with it.
"Your John Doe. I had this pulled from a few local cameras in the area, an ATM, a coffee shop, and a gas station where he used the washroom. Word has it he didn't flush."
Flipping through the photos, her Johnny Boy looked lighter than he did from the surveillance at the hotel but a lot prettier than he had from the morgue.
"This puts him in the area, but what I want to know is why you have nothing from the surveillance here? I've seen the cameras."
"Funny story that, the DVR wasn't running at the time. At least that's the story they fed me," Jennings explained, taking a walk up to the edge where a missing section of safety fence gave a good look down to where the latest John Doe lay, "But I'm starting to wonder if someone didn't turn it off."
"Usually I'd blame it on an inept site manager, but this isn't a gangbanger shooting."
"Or the normal kind of Mutant violence I'm used to dealing with either. Would you believe I think we have ourselves genuine Russian Mafioso here, but it's your John Doe I'm really interested in if he was our shooter."
"Oh come on, say it. I know it's coming. But what?." Joining the conversation late after enjoying his coffee, Greig had been hassling the forensic guys with a mix of orders and questions.
"I want to sit on this for a while." Jennings said, obliging Greig who gave a whooping cheer from being right.
"Why?" The clock was ticking and her Johnny Boy had the lead, upping the body count by five after walking away from a ten story dive.
"Because just as sure as I am that you have a few ghost stories and tales to rattle the rookies, there's a couple I heard back in my Quantico days that have me feeling like someone's just walked over my grave."
"Our Johnny Boy?" Greig asked with a sidelong glance from his admiring of the view.
"Who is he?" Holinka hated getting stonewalled in a case, but she hated someone withholding information she needed even more.
"South of the border there's stories about a son of a bitch even the cartels are scared of, they call him El Tigre. That's off the record of course, I'm still fact finding at this point. Why don't we trade notes after I've had a chance to do a bit of digging on my own. Oh, and call me if you need any doors opened. The kind a detective from New York won't have the keys to." Jennings said, handing off his card before leaving.
Flipping it over, a number that stunk of a burner was written on the back of it. Wondering just what she had gotten herself into, Holinka looked to her partner who gave her a shrug.
"You want to go give the orders to the guy trying to not toss his cookies? I'm too tired to deal with this shit right now."
The bodies would still be there come what she'd consider her morning, truly the evening as it would be by then, but that just might give Special Agent Jennings enough time to do his digging.
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It wasn't the peppering submachine gun fire or the crack of shotguns that had him wanting a smoke, nor was it the grunts and gasps of pain from the knife fights that had broken out. The worst of it was the screaming that accompanied their realization that they had walked into a trap, that they had found the very man they were looking for after their game of cat and mouse had them chasing a rat in the end, and that rat was him.
Lighting up, Remy took a deep draw to calm his nerves. There was a reason people called him Gambit, and his had paid off. If they wanted to find Victor, then bon, he would lead them to the man himself.
Tossing one butt with the next to light up his third, he wondered how long it had been since the screaming had stopped. Glancing out from his hidden corner of the warehouse, Remy saw Victor standing amongst the defeated tapping at a pack of Marlboro's.
"Need a light?" Offering his zippo that Victor might nurse a cherry, they stood together in amiable silence enjoying their cigarettes accented with gun smoke.
"Stunts like this are the reason I haven't killed ya yet Lebeau, ya always got something up your sleeve."
"Then I take it the hotel be water under the bridge?" Handing off an envelope of cash, it was a hit against the gold he'd gotten from the safe but it was better to pay the devil his due.
Trust was a man who didn't bother to count the cash, not that Victor needed it, he just had expensive tastes. That was something Remy could relate to, the world of the High Roller was hard to walk away from.
"I got bigger fish to fry than gettin' twisted in a knot over you and Raven beatin' me to a job, whole thing was a fix anyway." Sucking back on his cigarette as it ate its way to the filter, Victor let go of a smoky breath.
"I got a bit more cash if you be interested in telling me just who these men be working for?" He was after information, and if he had to pay Victor then at least it'd be worth the cash.
"A third party hired some Russians to insulate themselves from me, what with my reputation proceeding me and all. Private Military with aspirations of getting into the Defense Contractor game, robotics and that sort of shit."
Despite his tried and tested poker face, Victor wasn't a man who would fall for it even as Remy felt a shiver run down his spine. Everything Raven had shown him painted a very nasty picture, whatever those plans were the Russians had wanted them back during the Cold War.
"I showed you my hand..."
"The necklace, it have plans on it but Raven destroyed them."
"Plans to what?" Flicking away his cigarette butt in a show of claws, just because the kid had a knack for entertaining him didn't mean he wouldn't hurt him if he held out.
"She call them Sentinels, say the name that make them be a murderer of us and I don think she mean the criminal sort, neh?"
"Well shit on me sideways kid."
In his association with the man, Remy knew it took a lot to surprise Victor, so to see him contemplatively staring down at the dead and dying didn't bode well.
"You heard of them?" Remy asked, he was paying for the information after all.
"Whole world heard of them and then went and forget about them real fast, got distracted after Magneto dropped a stadium on the front lawn of the White House. What good were Mutant Hunting Robots if they couldn't stop one man, am I right?"
Tapping out a fresh cigarette, this was news to him but then again it wasn't as if he had the benefit of a conventional education. Victor gave a hearty chuckle and snatched a cigarette of his own, waiting for Remy to offer him a light again.
"Like they say kid, it was before you were even a glint in your Daddy's eye. That son of a bitch Nixon was in the house at the time. Makes me wonder just what they got planned if they can cobble one of these Sentinels together, tech from the Seventies ain't too impressive these days."
"I think I best be calling Raven and let her know what she get us into." Remy mused with a look to the hardware the mercs favoured, impressive as it was they might as well have been armed with bb guns against the worlds foremost killer, the infamous Sabretooth.
"I got a little personal business o' myself to tend to, it wasn't just you and these boys here out looking for me, matter of fact he was the last person I expected to hear about. Just one last question for ya LeBeau, did ya get a shot at that feisty little frail or did Raven have all the fun?"
It was funny how a night felt like a lifetime ago, how just hours before he would have been ready to step in for Raven had everything gone as planned. Thinking of everything that had happened since then, well, Remy felt a few different feelings as he thought about Miss Lee. Victor's laughter was harsh and grated on his nerves as he left.
"Always the fucking romantic, women will be the death o' ya kid. Thanks for the cash, you know I've killed for less. Ain't it nice to know how much your life is worth?"
Crushing out his cigarette, Remy watched Victor leave and then headed off in the opposite direction. It wouldn't be long until someone came looking for the dearly departed and he wanted to be long gone by then. Looking around the warehouse, arson was a game he hadn't indulged in since he'd been a punk kid on the streets of New Orleans.
"As they say, buyer beware. He never did ask me how I make sure his warehouse have an accident, just that it does. But a job be a job, c'est la vie." Having friends in low places meant there was always work to be found just a phone call away, especially when he needed a nice and discreet meeting place.
Charging his half empty pack of cigarettes, Remy left it on the propane tank of a fork lift parked all too close to a stash of hundred pounders. Hoofing it for the door, ten yards clear he heard the first of what would be many explosions. It didn't hurt that there was an assortment of flammable merchandise in there either, it was an accident waiting to happen...
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"Don't smile."
"Why can't I smile?"
"Because you just spent the last hour standing in line with a woman and her screaming baby, a fat creeper staring at your tits thinking you didn't notice him, and a guy old enough to be your granddad who winked at you when you caught his eye staring at you."
Looking from the guy behind the camera to Raven, Jubilee didn't bother to try and hide her confusion.
"Authenticity, it won't matter how good his work is if the photo gives you away." Raven explained, offering her support with a warm smile.
It made sense once it was explained, to date her only experience with forged documents had been the kind Kitty had a connection for that let them sneak into bars. Taking a breath, Jubilee thought of the scene the photographer painted and played the part until the flash startled her. Blinking away the stars that dazzled her eyes, she was afraid to move from her place behind the painters tape line where she'd been told to stand at.
"Perfect, that's your new drivers license. Go pick something out from the rack, lets say...oh I don't know, you're going on a date after getting your passport photo taken. I'll let Raven handle your makeup."
"A date?" Jubilee asked, suddenly inspired by the game of make believe.
"I'll let Raven handle the details of that too." The photographer said with a chuckle as he headed off to his computer.
"And just where would my younger sister, Miss Julie Ling like to go for a date?"
"Okay, that went from roleplaying fantasies to straight up incestuous in like three seconds."
"What happens behind closed doors is our business." Skipping past dresses, Raven wondered just where their do over date would be.
"I'm thinking maybe a club to start with, just a step back from a rave as I don't do the party drug scene. I mean I'll get my drink on cuz I'm a huggy feely drunk, but that's where I draw the line."
"You're making me feel old." Raven laughed as she found a bikini top that looked to be her lover's size.
"I'm liking where this date is going already." Jubilee chirped as she snagged the offered top, flip flopping her head to and fro to admire it.
"Jeans?"
"They'll do in a pinch, but if I'm rocking a bikini top I want me a low rise cut."
"I'll remember that."
Adding a scrap of fabric that might have been called a shirt, she shooed Jubilee to the dressing room to get changed. Every bit as enticing as she imagined, Jubilee danced her way to the vanity to music only she could hear, a dance that left Raven wondering what it would be like to get lost on the dance floor with her, to feel the press of bodies against her with the air hot and humid with the breath and sweat of so many partygoers.
"Ooo, glitter." Jubilee cooed, dotting her cheeks in a speckle of sparkling rainbow colours.
Painting her lovers lips in a luscious shade of red she longed to kiss, Raven found herself lost in her Jubilation's eyes. Not since her confession in the shower had she seen fear enter those eyes, wary at times yes but not once afraid. It was a naive innocence she wanted to protect, to cherish and keep safe from the harsh realities of the world.
"Am I ready for my close up?" Grinning sheepishly, Jubilee tried to not smudge her makeup.
"Not quite."
Lightly playing with a splash of eyeshadow and a hint of mascara, only then did she let Miss Julie Ling head back to the camera for her passport photo.
"Just try and look bored and in a hurry."
And a hurry they were in, she still hadn't heard back from Remy which worried her even if she trusted him to lose his tail. She hadn't even had time to call Charles to let him know everything that had happened since their last conversation. All she had time for now was a stop at the best paper man within reach while staying under the radar of whoever was after the necklace, or more importantly what it held.
"Great, alright go ahead and take a load off. Mi casa es su casa. I'll get right on these, VIP treatment, skip the line and everything."
"So...?" Jubilee asked as she found herself standing behind the painters tape line.
"I still owe you brunch..."
Leading her lithe lover off to the kitchen, a life spent abroad had taught Raven many dishes utterly divine in their simplicity. A call to Charles could wait until they had eaten, and just perhaps she would swallow her pride and ask for his help for the sake of the young lady who bound them together again after so many years.
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