A/N: We wrote this scene after we got the reviews for chapter three. This one's for you, TheHollister and Shadowcat47!
(Random quote of the day: "Good girls go to heaven. Bad girls go everywhere!" –Meg who has no idea who actually said this first.) Enjoy!
Hotaru (shakes head) Anyways, we might be off schedule after this chapter… our muses(glares at Warren and Remy who are tied up) walked away from us and therefore we still have the rest to write. Also, I would like to clarify Brenna's not a slut….That is all. Please take a look at my profile, as there is something important about the fic posted on there.
Chapter Twelve
Brenna sat quietly in front of Erik's desk as Mystique skillfully wrapped Brenna's wrist. Erik walked into the room and settled himself behind his desk.
"Our partner is growing impatient." Erik said calmly. "I'm gathering you have the samples?"
"You can tell your esteemed partner," Brenna began coolly, "that what I originally provided should be more than sufficient."
"He will not be pleased."
"He can go to hell," Brenna replied. "I'm pushing the plan ahead. I want everything ready by Monday," she added, getting up from her seat. "Remember Erik. I cured you twice, I can kill you ten times before you hit the ground." With that, she walked out of the office.
Having changed into track pants and a halter-top, Brenna stood outside of Magneto's lair and took a deep breath. She looked down at her wrapped wrist. Before Mystique had wrapped it, Brenna had soaked it in some diluted tears. It would heal faster, but not immediately.
Stretching her arms, she concentrated on the makeshift duffle punching bag. Letting the anger flow through her, she began to pummel the bag. Slowly at first, then she sped up, the turbulent emotions of recent events finally taking its toll. She ignored the growing pain in her damaged wrist, snarling as she felt tears sting her eyes. Tears that were the product of an overwhelmed body, not of her conflicted feelings toward Warren.
Suddenly, in one smooth move, she reached into her boot, and pulled out her knife. She spun around and threw it, the knife lodging itself in a tree.
"Next time it'll be your forehead," she said dryly, watching the young man assess the close proximity of the knife to his head.
"What do you want?"
"I came to introduce myself. Considering we were never actually introduced," the young man said. "The name's Pyro."
"Gees, I wonder what your abilities are." Brenna rolled her eyes. "I'm Brenna."
"You're new," St. John said casually, "so, I think you deserve a fair warning. The life that Magneto's promised you? It's not all that its cracked up to be. He'll turn you out the minute you have no usefulness to him. He's a snake charmer."
"And I suppose you're telling me this to save an innocent girl from being hurt?" She said, taking her towel and wrapping it over her shoulders.
Pyro laughed harshly, "we're none of us innocent, or else Magneto would have no interest in you. It's Magneto's idea of his mensch, to believe in the dream that Magneto holds, you gotta be the type that will fight for it, by any means necessary."
"Wanna know something, hun?" Brenna said, coming up behind beside him and whispering, "I taught him that."
Wary, Pyro looked over the woman again. Then he laughed bitterly and turned to go. "You both can go to hell together."
Brenna grabbed him and pulled him toward her.
"You wanna come with? I hear it can be a blast." Brenna pulled him closer and kissed him.
Pyro threaded a hand in her hand and pulled her back, the smirk on his face dark and angry, "it's too late, I've already been. Haven't you heard?" Then he pulled Brenna back to him for another savage kiss, until gasping for breath they parted.
"I love men who are young and dangerous." Brenna smirked, clawing lightly down Pyro's back.
"Aren't all men young and dangerous to you?" Pyro shot back, only wanting to hurt and destroy.
Brenna tilted her head back, laughing, enjoying his youthful anger, "young, yes, but dangerous... rarely."
"More kissing, less with the talking."
"Mmmm, forceful one aren't you?" Brenna said in between kisses.
"I can be a lot of things," Pyro growled into her mouth, slipping the towel off her shoulders harshly.
"I'm sure you can be." Brenna growled back, stripping off his shirt. Brenna ripped St. John's belt straight off his pants, giggling as she did it.
St. John looked at her for a moment in shock, then went after her halter top. He eased a bit of a flame and singed her halter just enough for him to rip it off.
Brenna pulled Pyro to the ground, then began slowly kissing down his neck.
He eagerly rose to meet her lips, their tongues dueling for supremacy. She moaned appreciatively into his mouth, then began to trail her kisses down his chest, marking a swath of a harsh encounter on his torso, when suddenly they felt the pain of high impact blows from sharp, boney feet. The woman who tripped over them groaned as she pulled her bone projections out of the ground, finally snapping a few of them in her frustration. Brenna and St. John sat up, seeing the girl covered in blood and ragged clothing.
Brenna huffed and sat up to see who the intruder was. "Who the hell are you?" She growled, wrapping the towel around her chest awkwardly. "Oh my God," Brenna invoked, "what happened to you?"
Marrow snarled and staggered to her feet, as the surprised duo grabbed clothing to hide the evidence of their tryst.
Marrow stumbled, and St. John, only dressed in pants leapt to catch her before she fell once again. He yelped as a bone protrusion gashed his arm. Marrow stumbled away, leaning against a tree.
"Upworlder," she rasped, "it's too late."
"What's too late?" Brenna demanded. This woman interrupted her angry sex, she better have a good reason for it! "Damnit woman," Brenna seethed "Don't wait for the second coming of Christ before speaking!"
A rough savage laugh spilled from Marrow's lips, "he said... he said that it was gonna kill me. Kill everyone who ain't pure."
Johnny looked to Brenna before asking Marrow to clarify what the hell she was talking about.
"Who said what about killing?" Brenna asked, confused. "And what kind of pure?"
"The man... he ain't upworlder, but he ain't Morlock either," Marrow said, feeling her limbs trembling and tried to still them, snarling at herself. "I don't know who he is. Except he calls himself doctor. It's his legacy, what he gave me. I can feel it, killing me. It's gonna be slow. The others died horribly."
Brenna looked at Marrow with an indescribable look on her face. Then she stood up. She grabbed her knife from the tree and looked at Marrow with an apologetic look on her face.
"Please forgive me for what I'm about to do." Brenna whispered to her. Marrow seemed to have understood and nodded, a smile slowly showing itself on her lips. Brenna raised her knife and plunged it into Marrow's heart.
"Thank you..." Marrow whispered, relief and peace settling on the young woman's countenance.
Brenna laid the mutant woman down to the ground, "I hope you find in death what you could not in life."
Pyro stood dumbfounded by what he had just seen. Brenna however, just cleaned her knife with her towel. She turned to him, looking him up and down, and snorted. She headed back inside the complex.
"Afraid of me yet?" Brenna shouted back towards him.
"No, I'm not afraid of you," Johnny said, reaching out to Brenna.
"You should be," was all Brenna would say.
Meanwhile, on the X-Jet…
Ororo and Logan had dropped the children and Warren off at the mansion, having determined en route that Hank McCoy returned from D.C. and was available to offer his services as a doctor, though he hadn't practiced emergency medicine in some years. Then Ororo had logged in a flight plan while Logan reluctantly strapped himself back in the co-pilots chair.
"Where are we goin' 'Ro?"
Storm smiled at him, "Scotland."
"Charles' in Scotland?"
"As is Moira, Rahne, and Excalibur."
"Excalibur?"
"A team, much like ours in New York."
"So, what's with the name? Someone pull a sword outta stone?"
"Actually, that's a misconception," Storm smiled, warming to her topic; she was the school's history teacher, "Disney had it wrong. Excalibur was the sword given to Arthur by the Lady of the Lake after the sword he had pulled from the stone broke in battle."
Logan just nodded, like he had actually heard it before and only realized it now. He frequently experienced this feeling of déjà vu. It would be annoying if he weren't used to it.
"So, no," Ororo concluded, "no one pulled a sword out of a stone. At any rate, we probably won't be meeting anyone on Excalibur, except, perhaps Rahne. Rather, we are simply going to meet Charles and Moira at headquarters."
"Not a social call. Got it," Logan chuckled. He preferred 'Ro in the pilot's seat, rather than Scooter–his stomach took the ride better. They rode in silence for about ten minutes before Logan finally couldn't keep it in any more. "How in the seven hells did Chuck survive? We saw him, 'Ro. We saw him get..."
"It will be explained," Ororo said, "I don't know how he survived it, but," a tear slipped down Ororo's usually calm, serene face. Clouds gathered in the sky until she got a hold of herself and they dissipated. "I'm glad."
"Me too, Romy," Logan rumbled.
