Chapter Twelve
An Inch Taller
---
Rogue rubbed her weary eyes and shook her head in attempt to chase off the sleep that threatened to overcome her. Her eyes were on the road ahead of her, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as she drove north. After several hours of driving, sleep seemed to be unavoidable, but she managed to make a stand against it with a ridiculous amount of coffee. Steaming hot coffee.
She licked her lips and took another zip from the scolding hot mug. As the caffeine started to kick in, the bleariness at the edges of her mind faded and her head started to clear again. As she put down the mug in its holder, there was a quick flash of brown in the periphery of her vision.
At the other seat in the car, the brown, leather portfolio that encased the papers about her solo mission, laid in a disorganized heap along with several piles of paper. A small surge of excitement coursed through her at the flashing reminder of her mission. It had been only a few hours since she had been standing in the Professors office and received her first solo mission, yet so much had happened in that small amount of time.
Logan had given her all the details of the mission; the objective, suitable methods, in-case-of-emergency strategy etc, etc. If Rogue hadn't been so excited and nervous, she probably would have fallen asleep after ten minutes. Since it was their first mission alone, there had been a ridiculous amount of security measures taken. Rogue understood that the Professor was very anxious in letting them depart on this risky journey on their own, but with all these added security, they had passed the border of what was superfluous by far.
And did it really matter? If something happened and she phoned the institute for help, she would still be far away and it wouldn't be likely that whatever threatened her would wait nicely until the cavalry arrived.
No, she was on her own. No matter what lengths of measure were taken, the risks would still be tangible and inevitable if it would appear. If something would happen… If something unexpected and dangerous would occur, then she had to solely rely on her own strength. That was the true test, how well she would manage the situation whatever fate threw in her path.
Rogue nibbled her lower lip and glanced at the portfolio, pensively.
After Logan had informed her of her mission, she had spent the rest of the day to prepare for it. Evan, Kurt and Kitty had done the same and there had been little time to chat with them, but Kitty had briefly told Rogue that she had been given a recruit mission, though it was left unexplained who the candidate was. Kitty had seemed overly excited and jittery about her mission, and Rogue couldn't help but wonder if there was something more to it than an ordinary recruit operation. Could she possibly know the person?
The next morning they had all gotten up early and left the mansion before the sun had risen above the horizon. Kurt had gotten a lift with the Blackbird, leaving the others to get by with means of their own. Rogue had chosen a car to get to reach her destination, though after several hours of driving, she regretted she hadn't taken Velocity. Helicopters may not be so subtle, but they are certainly much faster than cars. Maybe it would be worth the trouble?
A small smile tugged the corner of her mouth, and she pressed down the accelerator to speed the car up a notch. The golden inscription on the portfolio flashed teasingly in the periphery of her vision. Solo Mission, Rogue.
Her mission. How had Logan phrased it? "A quick survey after things that go bump in the night."
In a town far north of New York, there had been a lot of suspicious fires. So far there have been no explanation for the random conflagrations, but it was likely caused by a pyromaniac. Rogue's job was to check if the fires had been caused by a mutant and if so, she should call the team immediately. If wasn't caused by a mutant, she'd help the local police to catch the culprit. Anonymously, of course. If necessary, she'd go under cover.
The mission was nothing too dangerous, but there were risks. If it was a mutant, Rogue could be in trouble if there would be a confrontation. Logan had told her that she had been gotten the most risky missions they handed out, but he also said that he had faith in her and believed she could handle it, in his own roundabout manner.
It felt good that he thought so high of her, and trusted her to deal with the mission on her own. It was a significant step into the world of adults, a marking point that showed of much she had grown the past years. She was ready to become a senior, she just had to do this one little thing to prove herself.
It also gave her a grand opportunity to get away from Angel and his persistent pursuit. A chance to let the dust settle and let the sharp contrast between black and white, between pain and sorrow blur in her memories. Less sharp, maybe it wouldn't sting her every time she was reminded.
But even through the cloudy greys of her memories, there was always that flash of red pricking her awareness, and a smug grin that annoyed her to no end.
Gambit truly was a man of many surprises. When they had med they had only been enemies and they fought. It had been a fight she had in fact enjoyed, but nonetheless it had been a simple meeting between two people from opposite sides. Nothing complicated. But when they had met a second time, at the mall, their acquaintance had slightly changed into something… else. He had shown her that he wasn't afraid of her powers and even demonstrated a will to get on a friendlier foot with her.
Rogue snorted. Well, that is at least what he had made an appearance of. At the time, she had thought it had been just another ploy to get through the X-men, and she had made her best to show him she wasn't that gullible as he might have believed. The intriguing thing though, was that he had searched her out yet again, despite her refusal to play his games. Her earlier show at the mall should have made him switch targets to someone to someone easier to fool, or at least change his strategy.
That is, if her assumption of him working after a hidden agenda was correct.
So what had their last meeting between them meant? That he was really interested of her, as a person and not as a means to an end?
Another snort. Not likely. But his intentions were probably less malevolent than she had initially believed, whatever that meant in reality.
But regardless of his intentions, he had helped her that night at the club. Maybe he didn't know it but he had helped her to loosen up and to things she normally couldn't do, in order to distance herself from her breakdown after the revelation about Angel.
Though… Some of the things they had done.
A blush coloured her cheeks red, and she gripped the steering wheel more firmly.
Some of the things she had done with him had been outrageous. The kiss? The intimate dance? She didn't remember all the details from her inebriated night or what had caused her to do that. Clearly, she had been out of her mind. Those experiences were better left forgotten.
Though she felt some gratitude towards him. After all, in a way he had set her free from her misery, and for that she was grateful. But it wasn't like she would ever tell him that. His ego was big enough as it was, no reason to make him topple over his own head. No, he was better left in the dark, she thought, amused of the irony.
Silently, she wondered for a moment where he was. What could he be doing right now? She didn't know, and though it was pointless to wonder about it, the thought was still there. But with a shrug, she shook the question off her mind. She would see him again, no doubt. After all, he was a man of many surprises.
The corner of her mouth curled up in a half smile.
Long after the sun had dived beyond the horizon and the shadows taken over the world, Rogue arrived at her goal. It was a small town where all the inhabitants knew their next-door neighbours. She had to tread carefully to not arouse any suspicion. Vigilante mutants are, for some reason, not welcomed in many parts of the country. In fact, any mutant would probably be frowned upon, good or bad.
Rogue pulled up against the sidewalk and peered under the roof of the car, through the window. A bright neon sign marked the only hotel of the town, the one she was staying in. She parked the car, unloaded her baggage and checked in to the hotel.
Jangling her room keys, she walked up a few stairs to her assigned room and opened the door. The room was a far cry from a five-star, but it was pretty descent. As long as the room, the bed sheets and the bathroom were clean, Rogue was satisfied.
With a tired sigh, she dumped her baggage on the floor and crashed on the bed, exhausted.
She could start recon tomorrow.
*
*
*
*
*
The morning after, Rogue re-entered her hotel room with a hot cup of coffee in her hand, moving in a sluggish pace with her features set in a tired, temperamental look. Shutting the door behind her with a foot, she made her way to her bed and dumped herself on it, making the springs of the bed protest loudly. She downed the coffee in one sweep, and closed her eyes to wait for the coffee buzz to erase the grogginess in her head.
Waking up in a strange room, in an unknown bed, smelling a weird, stale scent of old furniture could really mess up with Rogue's sensitive morning mood. This day was no exception, and when Rogue fumes, innocent bystanders could get seriously hurt. The only medicine to her temperament is coffee, so she had sneaked out in the early morning hours to the hotel's kitchen to get some. Though she had met some people on the way, she managed the ordeal without as much as snap at someone. Maybe it was the black storm cloud above her head that warned everyone to not approach her? Shemonster on the way; beware!
When Rogue felt a little better, she spread out all the papers she had on her mission over her bed. Sitting Indian style, she sorted them to get a better overview of what she already knew. Mission papers, description, articles, printouts etc.
Okay, what did she already know? A lot of inexplicable fires occurred in a restricted area.
Accidental fires? Hell no, there's no way that so many fires in the same area could be accidental, it was too deliberate.
Any signs of a culprit? None what she knew of.
Motive? No idea. Did pyromaniacs need a reason to burn everything at sight?
Anything else? No, Logan had been very sparing with the information. Rogue frowned, her elbow digging into her leg as she rested her chin on top of her hand, wondering if the lack of information was intentional or if he just didn't know. Whatever the reason was, it was clear that she needed more data.
Exactly where had the fires occurred, any witnesses, sights of the pyromaniac?
She needed to visit the crime scene to investigate, wherever that was. But when Rogue's stomach rumbled loudly, she decided it was best to have some breakfast before she started her work.
She got dressed and went out to the town's small centre, where she found a small café after some dedicated searching. The inside of the café seemed very dark and cramp, so she decided to sit out in the outdoor section, under the sun.
A tired looking waitress strode out of the café and asked Rogue what she wanted to order with a lethargic voice. Rogue politely asked for a latte and a piece of whatever pie they had, with a small smile tugging her lips. The waitress wrote down the order, her gaze sliding over to Rogue's gloved hands for the barest second, before she went back inside.
Rogue blew out a breath and rolled her shoulders. It was difficult to not look suspicious when you were completely covered from tip to toe, including gloves, in the middle of the warm summer. She had tried to ease the oddness of her look by wearing a white tank top with a semi-transparent white top over, gloves also white. It didn't look as warm as her usual attire, and white had a strange way of making her look very innocent. Hopefully, if people still found it weird, they would dismiss it as a skin condition, which really wasn't so far from the truth.
She took a newspaper that was left abandoned on a neighbouring table, and flicked through the pages. While she searched for anything new about the fires, the waitress from before came and served her the latte and pie. Absently, Rogue took a sip from the coffee and almost spit it out as soon as the lukewarm liquid touched her tongue. It was foul! The taste was so bitter and stale it made her toes curl in agony. What in god's name had they done with the coffee to make it taste so bad? Brewed it with old socks?
She took a bit of the pie in attempt to erase the bitter taste on her tongue. The pie wasn't so bad, a little dry around the edges, but definitely better than the coffee.
Her focus returned to the newspaper.
Unfortunately, there was nothing about the fires. It was a local paper, and if any more suspicious fires had occurred, it would be on the front page as there was not much else to report in this dismal place. But she scanned the papers again, just to be sure.
As she sat and turned the papers inside out to find even the smallest mentioning that could help her mission, the rest of the town had started to wake. The streets slowly filled with people and soon, the café as well. The buzzing sound of people chattering filled the air, making a slight scowl appear on Rogue's features as she tried to block out the noise. She stared at the papers very intently, but the sound of two old ladies chattering very loudly a few tables away made her focus slip, and after a few minutes she realised she had read the same sentence fifteen times already. With a frustrated sigh, she muttered curses under her breath and tried again. Newspaper. Look for article. Fire.
»You know, you really shouldn't do that.« A psyche in her head advised, his words barely a low whisper in her mind, as was usual for unattended and weak psyches.
»Do what?« Rogue asked impatiently.
»Ignore them. You should listen.«
»Are yah talking about the people in the café or are yah talking about you psyches?«
The psyche sighed heavily and projected a mental equivalent of an eye roll.
»The people in the café, of course. Seriously.«
»And why would Ah listen to them? Ah ain't exactly interested in small town gossip.«
»Yes, you are. You want to know about the fires? This is probably a major topic in a small community like this, considering not much happens around places like these. Just listen and maybe you'll get lucky.«
»Huh« Rogue glanced around, considering. Maybe the psyche had a point.
It couldn't hurt to give it a try.
»By all means, no need to thank me.« The psyche commented dryly. Rogue didn't answer, her focus had already shifted to the world on the outside. Snippets of conversation reached her ears. A couple walking by, talking about their holiday plans. A man talking on his phone, discussing something about his work. A young girl complaining to her middle-aged mother who sat and tried to drink her coffee in peace.
It took several minutes before she finally heard what she had been looking for.
It was the two old ladies, a few tables away, which Rogue had been very annoyed at before, that touched the subject. Their voices though, were inconveniently drowned by other people who'd occupied the rest of the tables. Rogue could only hear "…about the fires… very peculiar… no, I said…" but it caught her attention immediately. She tapped Logan's powers, and with his heightened senses she could eavesdrop on the conversation, while pretending to read the newspaper.
"…so he told me a house had been caught in the fire but been saved before it was severely damaged, and when I asked, he told me it was Maddock's house." One of them said in a grosgrain voice.
"Maddock? Lisa Maddock?" The other one asked, surprised.
"Who else?"
"But she is-"
"Crazy, I know. And that's what I told him. After her husband died so many years ago, she hasn't been quite lucid, that's what I told him. I wouldn't be surprised if she claimed someone did this to her. Probably Trevor, after what he did last year, but it was most likely just her doing all along."
"Would she really set her own house on fire?"
"Wouldn't surprise me. Last month she destroyed her water pipes, just so she could talk about her miserable life with the plumber. She would do anything to get attention."
"How very odd."
"It is, isn't it?"
"But there have been fires at other places as well. You think she might have caused them too?"
"Well, all the fires have occurred on the eastern part of the town, where she lives. It can't be just a coincidence, can it?"
"Hmm, I agree. It does seem very odd, I must say."
"And did the police investigate this possibility? No. They should have asked me and I could have told them how it really was. The same thing happened to my cousin when he…"
Rogue stopped listening to the conversation as soon as it turned to other topics. She finished her pie, threw a few money bills on the table and then left.
»Where to now?«
»To Lisa Maddock's house to investigate.« Rogue answered the voice in her head evenly.
»Is there really any point? I mean, it probably was that crazy old lady who tried to get attention that did it, not a mutant. You have no idea how far people can go just to have someone to talk to.«
»Don't know that for sure. There's still a chance that it was a mutant, and Ah'm not leaving until Ah'm hundred percent sure. Ah need to go and investigate.«
»How?« Another psyche suddenly asked. Rogue frowned a little, wondering why all the psyches in her head felt so outspoken all of a sudden.
»How can you investigate when you don't know where this Maddock lives?«
»Eastern part of the town, wasn't it? Can't be too difficult. They said that the house had been caught in the fire, but hadn't burnt down, which must mean it has a very nice black burn mark somewhere. It won't be hard to find that, in this small town.«
*
*
*
*
*
But unlucky as Rogue was, it turned out that the eastern part of the town was a whole network of houses and streets, so big at almost made a whole new community by itself.
Rogue looked at it in despair.
All houses looked exactly the same, except for a few colour differences here and there. Villas with a drive-in, a small garden at the backside, a fruit tree at the front. There was no house of what she could see that had any scourge marks, blackened spots or any other signs of conflagration. If she would have to look at every house, one by one, doing a three hundred and sixty check-up at every single one of them, she would be stranded here for ages. Years. Decades.
»What now?« One of her younger psyches asked, with a still childlike voice. »Do you have to look at every house to find what you're looking for?«
»Not if Ah can help it. Ah plan to get home before next Christmas.« Rogue replied and chewed her lower lip as she tried to come up with a plan.
The streets were empty and desolate, and the only signs that cars had ever set a wheel in that dismal place, were the bright spots of asphalt on the drive-ins where the cars had been standing. The majority of the inhabitants seemed to be at work or elsewhere, but Rogue saw one or two faces through the windows as she walked down the streets.
She pondered on what her next move would be, ignoring the shout outs and the suggestions from the psyches in her mind as she walked aimlessly.
How do you find someone without the address?
Well, the yellow pages, of course. But she didn't have access to that, neither the digital nor the catalogue. She had to go by with other means.
After a few minutes of thinking, Rogue came up with a plan, which would hopefully work. The only things she needed were a small notebook and a pen, which she luckily had brought with her, in case she needed to take a peek on her mission notes again.
She ripped off a piece of paper, scribbled something on it and headed towards the closest house with a car parked outside of it.
Tentatively, she knocked on the hard oak door and waited for a response. The muffled noise of something rustling came from the inside, the sound of footsteps, before a middle-aged woman with deep wrinkles in her face opened the door a little and peered at her suspiciously.
"Who are you?" The woman asked briskly. Rogue smiled politely, though somewhat hesitantly as if she was nervous.
"Hello, mah name is Alice Smith. Ah work at the Wilkesby local newspaper." Rogue said and paused as if she waited for a nod of recognisance from the woman, which she of course didn't get. The woman waited in silence, almost glaring at Rogue. With an awkward cough and a forced blush, she continued. "Ah'm a journalist, just graduated from college and Ah uh -" the woman kept staring and Rogue continued hastily. "- and Ah'm here to interviews about the fires that occurred in this town lately. Ah've got this address-" She held up the piece of paper in her hand. "-to a Lisa Maddock who could apparently help meh. Are you her?"
"No, I'm not." The woman answered curtly. Rogue made wide eyes and looked down at the scrap of paper in her hand, flustered, her gaze turned to search for the number of the house with a fervency of someone who had just made an embarrassing mistake.
"Uh – Ah- yah're not?" Rogue asked in a slightly panicking voice. "Ah've got this address and it says-" The woman snatched the piece of paper from her hand and glanced at it. With a snort she said,
"It's my address but Lisa Maddock doesn't live here." She handed back the paper to Rogue, who took it cautiously and licked her lips.
"You – uh- don't happen to know where she lives, ma'm?" Rogue asked with ill-suppressed hope in her tone. The woman simply glared at her for several moments, making her almost sweat for real, but then pointed at a road, far away, which lead into a big forest ahead.
"Up that road. When it splits, turn left and you'll find her house."
Before Rogue had the chance to sputter an incomprehensible thank you, the door slammed on her face.
"Rude." Muttered Rogue, now with the look of a fresh-at-work journalist completely washed out from her features.
Shrugging it off, she headed towards the forest.
*
*
*
*
*
Maddock's house was one of the most weird-looking things Rogue had ever seen. It was all angles and lopsided roofs. The walls were painted in a dirty yellow, the roofs crowned with strange-looking ornaments, and the windows were asymmetrical. Aside from that, the abandoned belongings that were scattered on the ground, the broken glass, and the cracked and dried wooden planks made the house look like no one had maintained it for years.
Rogue raised an eyebrow at the sight of it.
Even though the place looked deserted, she still checked if there was a car parked nearby or if the lights were out in the house. When she felt asserted that no one was home, she dared to approach the house to investigate.
It was the backside of the house that had sustained damage from the fires, Rogue discovered. A black scourge mark adorned the wall, not severe enough to make a hole, but enough to make chips of coal fall off when she scratched the surface. The ground was also marked by the fire, clearly defined by a rim of fallen leaves that hadn't caught fire, circling around the patch. Some of the trees were blackened, almost to the top, giving a clear measure of how far up the fire had reached.
The damaged area wasn't so large, apparently the fire had been doused long before it had made any serious impact, but it certainly was a sight to be seen.
Rogue traced the marks with her gloved hands, coal dust blackening the white satin material. Accessing Logan's heightened senses once again, she smelled her fingers but couldn't detect any suspicious scent.
What could have caused the fire? There were nothing nearby that could accidently have caused it, like gas pipes or similar.
The lack of smells from different flammable substances, gases or liquids was certainly fishy. The traces of it could have been erased by the wind or other forces of the nature, or someone had hid their tracks very well… or it could be a mutant.
Rogue crouched and inspected the ground. Everything organic had transformed into ash and coal, making the mix of white and black turn the ground grey. She searched the ground and the nearby area after any clues of the culprit, anything that could have been dropped or left behind. The police could often be sloppy in examining the crime scenes, especially if it was local, so it was a good chance that Rogue could find something they had missed.
It took a few minutes before Rogue realised she was being watched.
Turning around, she saw an old white-haired lady, hanging out of one of the windows, looking at her curiously.
Rogue blushed, suddenly realising that this must be Lisa Maddock, who was at home and not absent as she thought she had been. Here. Looking at Rogue who had just trespassed upon her private land.
"Uhm…" Rogue began uncertainly, resuming her role of a clumsy and awkward journalist, standing up to fully face the old lady. She had the unnerving feeling of being caught red-handed. Lisa glanced at her with open curiosity, seemingly unconcerned of Rogue's uninvited presence.
"Are yah Lisa Maddock?" She asked the old lady, trying to look as embarrassed as possible, which wasn't so hard considering that Rogue shared the feeling somewhat with her fake character, Alice Smith. Lisa smiled.
"Are you a journalist?" She asked without answering Rogue's question. Rogue looked startled, and wriggled in her uncertainty.
"Uh, yes. From Wilkesby local newspaper. Ah'm Alice Smith." Though Rogue made a great show of a flustering young journalist, looking awkward and wide-eyed, she secretly processed Lisa's reactions and posture. There was no hostility in the old lady's face. Behind the wrinkles around the eyes, there was a spark of amusement and something less easily defined.
"Here to write an article about the strange fires, I presume." Lisa mused, smiling kindly at Rogue, like a mother to a child.
"Yeah." Rogue said tentatively, wondering if the water was safe enough to proceed, even though she had technically intruded on private land. When Lisa's open demeanour didn't change, she decided it was safe enough to take a leap and adopted the appropriate appearance of someone who'd just ask for a favour she wasn't certain she had the right to ask. "Ah'd hoped yah could do a small interview for meh. Nothing big, just need the general overview, that's all." Rogue added quickly, and looked at Lisa hopefully.
"Feel free to ask anything, my dear." Lisa granted and took up a cup of tea from a table that was out of Rogue's line of sight. Rogue beamed and hastily took out her pen and notebook and turned to a blank page.
"Okay." She wrote something in the notebook and then turned to Lisa. "Could yah tell meh your story of what happened here?"
"Well," Lisa started and leaned against the window frame, as if she was making herself comfortable for a long story. "I was sitting one Saturday evening in my living room, watching an old show of Oprah. I have a friend that likes the show and told me about the strangest things and I just had to see for myself if it really was true. The show was later than I'm usually…" And then she to ramble on about irrelevant details, telling her story in the most roundabout and lengthening way possible.
Rogue blinked and smiled politely, looking very interested on the outside, though she couldn't feel more frustrated on the inside. It didn't look like she could make the old lady speed up her story without being impolite, and she definitely couldn't cross that line when she had trespassed upon her land already, so she had to endure.
»Dieu, kill m' now.« A psyche in her head suddenly said.
Rogue's eyes widened and she almost gasped loudly at the sound of Gambit's voice echoing in her mind. Astonished, she stood frozen for several moments before she realised that she was looking a bit strange, freezing all of a sudden for no apparent reason.
She glanced worriedly at Lisa, who, luckily, hadn't noticed anything as she continued rambling with her story, and exhaled in relief.
Annoyed, she turned her focus inside to her mind, while trying to listen to Lisa's story, searching for Gambit's psyche.
»Don't do that!« She snapped angrily at him, consciously keeping her hands from balling into fists.
She could feel a wave of amusement radiating from the depths of her mind, teasing and annoying her to no end. It was an effort to not growl out loud.
»Chère,« He purred, thoroughly enjoying her reaction. »Thought y' liked de sound of my voice.«
»Yah thought wrong then! Now stay quiet, so Ah can focus« She hissed, turning her attention back to Lisa and her ramblings while pointedly ignoring him.
"…and it couldn't have been more surprising than the time when Maddy, one of my friends, came around for tea and brought with her a very strange-looking umbrella…"
How much more off topic could a person get?
Rogue sighed softly while trying to keep up the appearance of being interested. Her cheeks started to hurt by smiling for too long, and soon she dropped the smile, working her jaw to free herself from the stiffness. It didn't seem to matter how interested Rogue looked; the old lady would chatter on in any case. All she needed to do was to wait until she had covered everything irrelevant and reached the important parts of the story.
»You'd think her jaw would fall off soon by all de talkin',« Gambit said in a slightly bored tone and projected the mental equivalent of a languid stretch.
»Shut up, Cajun.« Rogue thought reflexively.
»C'mon, chère. Y're just as bored as I am.« He cajoled, his tone filled with mirth. »How 'bout we do somet'ing fun t' pass de time, neh?« She could practically feel him smirking.
She gritted her teeth, trying to remain calm.
»You are just a psyche in mah head, and a very weak one Ah might add since Ah've only absorbed yah once. And Ah can tell yah that Ah will never, ever indulge your perverse fantasies in mah head as long as Ah live. And for clarification; that's a no!«
»Chérie,« He hummed. »I was t'inking somet'ing completely different… But now when y' put the thought in m' head, why won't we-«
Bamh!
That was the mental wall Rogue slammed up, locking him in. It was more of a reflexive manoeuvre than a well thought out procedure, but it worked all the same. She was very sure she didn't want to hear the rest of that sentence.
Probably something utterly perverse, filled with… filled with…
Lisa was staring at her incredulously, her head slightly tilted and her expression expectant, as if she just had asked a question.
Shit!
That damn swamp rat had distracted her enough for Rogue to forget about why she was here, and now she had probably missed the important parts of the story. Like, how the hell did it happen?
The white-haired lady kept staring at her and Rogue felt compelled to give an answer to the question she hadn't really heard.
"Uhu." She uttered, non-committal enough to give leeway to both a yes and a no. Lisa nodded contently. Apparently it was enough.
Rogue exhaled and her shoulders dropped when the tension loosened from her muscles. Close call.
Why had the swamp rat's psyche surfaced all of a sudden? She had only absorbed him once, meaning that his psyche was fragile and weak. It was very rare that weak psyches could surface like that and hold a conversation with her. Most of the time, stronger psyches she had interacted with more butted in, jostling the weaker ones away.
How in the world had Gambit managed to surface then?
"…but I went back to my chair to continue to watch the show, and it was then I heard a strange noise. It sounded like hundreds of mice, eating my house, so I had to go up again and investigate. It was then I saw the fire through my window, and I immediately called nine-one-one. The firefighters came a moment later and saved my house, bless them, though I have this nice black mark on my house. It's very decorative, don't you think?"
"Right." Rogue agreed, inwardly thankful that the old lady had finished her rambling. "Did yah see anyone before the fire? Someone outside or a suspicious noise perhaps?"
" Yes, I've told you. I saw a shadow moving through the kitchen windows, but I didn't think much of it then."
"Oh. Did yah see a face? Or any distinguishing features, something easily remembered?" She pressed, hoping to get more clues. Maddock took a zip of her tea, peering at Rogue through lidded eyes with the look of someone who knew a secret, but wasn't sure if she was going to tell or taunt with it.
After a lengthened pause, she whispered with her old, hoarse voice,
"I know who it was."
Rogue blinked, surprised. Lisa grinned knowingly, the wrinkles around her mouth stretching into thin lines.
"Huh?" Rogue asked stupidly, but soon recovered from the small shock. "Ah mean, who? Who was it?"
"Trevor."
"Who?" She asked again, still confused.
"Trevor. My ex-gardener, who destroyed my rosebushes last year because I lowered his salary. He was a very bad at his job, and so it was only fair he should get less money for it. Though, he didn't agree and took revenge by mutilating my roses. Very rude, I must say, and I fired him for it. And now he's back to haunt me again!"
Rogue stared at the old lady, flabbergasted. She thought it was her gardener she sacked last year, who'd for some reason come back, after a year, and take revenge! Again!? Had she gone a little gaga in the head?
»I don't understand. She says she knows it was this Trevor, but she just told us she only saw a shadow when she looked out of her window. That seems a bit weird…«
"Yah said yah only saw a shadow when yah looked out through the window. How did yah realize it was… Trevor if yah couldn't see him?" Rogue asked the old lady.
"Well, it must have been him! I can't imagine why anyone else would try and burn my house!" She sputtered vindictively.
"Uhm, right." Can't imagine… "Okay, so if yah don't have anything else to add…?"
"No, no, I think that was about it."
»Thank god!« A psyche in her head exclaimed loudly.
"Okay. Thank you for your time, it'll be a good article, Ah'm sure." Rogue smiled, and said a few more words of goodbye before she departed, relieved to be out of hearing range from the old chatty lady.
»One more second and we would have died in here. Do you like to torture us?«
Rogue didn't reply, walking with long firm steps, pinching her mouth shut.
»Dear oh dear, she's giving us the silent treatment.«
»Oh look! Someone's trapped behind a mind wall here. Shall we free him?«
»Don't yah dare!« Rogue snapped angrily, and sent out a mental glare.
The psyches grinned mischievously.
*
*
*
*
*
The question was; did a mutant cause all the fires?
It could be Trevor, the vindictive gardener, coming back after a year for no reason whatsoever but to mess with his old weird, ex-employer's life.
Or it could be the strange old lady herself, setting her own house on fire for the attention.
It didn't have to be a mutant. But what if it was?
Rogue sighed. She needed a detective, or at least someone who could just figure it out. Rogue was a fighter, an X-man… woman, and she wasn't used to this kind of work.
»As an X-man, you have to be prepared for anything and be able to manage even when the unexpected or unplanned gets in the way.«
»Oh, be quiet Scott.« Rogue exasperated, rolling her eyes at him.
Though he was right. This was the test, her solo mission which she was entrusted to finish. Logan believed in her, he trusted her to be able to manage anything that came in her way. Even weird old ladies who maybe ran out in the night and set the forest on fire, and her house.
Okay, she needed to think. Clues? There were no clues, only a black scourge mark. No sign of any material used for ignition or fuel. It could mean that there were none, or the tracks had been hidden well.
She needed go and investigate the place again, at late night when no one could interrupt her search. Maybe she even could get lucky and catch the pyromaniac red-handed, burning down some other innocent trees or whatever.
It was a few hours left before it was dark Rogue could safely venture out in the woods without worrying about spying neighbours, so she decided to sit and kill some time at a local bar.
She found one, the only bar in town. It was moderately full, people coming in late after work to take a cold drink in the summer heat, sitting in the murky shadows of the bar. They all drank bears, and the few conversations that were heard were low-toned, only leaving a sound of indistinct murmurs. The furniture was all in oak wood, making a nice musty scent fill the room. The whole atmosphere was pleasant and kind of cosy.
Rogue sat down in one of the bar chairs, and smiled at the bartender to get his attention.
"What can I get you, darling?" He asked and wiped his hands on a dirty piece of cloth that hung from his belt. Rogue leaned on the bar counter, making herself more comfortable on the chair.
"Just a beer, thank you."
He nodded, quickly poured one and gave it to her.
She lazily twirled the glass in her hand, not really interested in drinking since she wasn't so fond of beer, but just for the sake of having something in her hands.
Though as always, some of the psyches in her head were really craving for beer and they drooled at the very sight of the full glass, pleading her to take a deep swig of it. She could refuse to meet all their needs, just pretend that she couldn't feel their cravings make her legs tingle and her mouth water, and just try and live a normal life. She could. But it would mean that they would piss and moan and make her life even more miserable than it already was. So, with a defeated sigh and half-hearted snort, she took a mouthful of the damn beer.
"You're not from around here, are you?" The bartender asked curiously, though it sounded more like a statement than a question. Rogue smiled and shook her head.
"Nah, from Mississippi originally. Moved out a couple of years ago and now Ah work at a newspaper bureau in a small town south of here." She lied easily, without slipping on the words.
"Oh, so you must be that journalist that just arrived. Allie, or was it Amy?"
"Alice, Alice Smith." She introduced herself and then gave a laconic laugh. "Boy, words do really get around here quickly." The bartender grinned.
"It certainly does. It's a small town and when outsiders arrive, it gets noticed." He glanced at her. "But you must know all about that if you also live in a small community. What was the name of the town again?"
"Wilkesby." She supplied without missing a beat.
"Never heard of."
"Ah'm not surprised." She hid her grin behind the glass and took a mouthful of the beer, trying not to grimace at the stale taste.
She exchanged a few more pleasantries with him before he excused himself to go and help newly-arrived customers and left Rogue alone.
She sat a few minutes alone, nursing her beer while inwardly watching the youngest of her psyches play around in her mind, though her gaze was fixed on the glass in her hand. It was kind of bizarre having one's own head as a playground, but the break from the most loud and annoying psyches made her tolerate it, even appreciate it.
Suddenly, the door opened and a short, stocky old man walked in. He was very squat, at least a head shorter than Rogue, and he was dressed in a black coat and a hat that obscured the sight of his face. With a limping gait he walked up the counter and sat down on the chair beside her. She glanced at him sideways, now able to distinguish his face under the hat. He was pockmarked, his nose broad and flat, his grey hair hanging out in tufts from beneath the hat and his eyes had a dull shade of grey, though she could decipher something more in them. A glint of intelligence, well hidden behind a mask of insignificance.
Rogue hid her face in the glass, her eyes lidded.
"A beer for me and a refill for the lady here." The man called out to the bartender with a rumbling voice, who acknowledged it with a nod. She peered at him from the side, apprehensively. What now?
The bartender served them the drinks and gave Rogue a playful wink before he disappeared again.
"Thank you." Rogue said to the man beside her, still not looking him full in the face.
"You're welcome." The man gulped down the beer and then sighed contently. "Ah, nothing better than a cold beer after a long summer day." He seemed to be in a talking mood.
"Are yah from around here?" She asked, obliging his indirect request for a conversation. What could it hurt?
"No, I'm an outsider just like you." He answered with a rumbling voice.
Rogue froze for a split second, before she forced herself to relax. She smiled, though a bit stiffly.
"Just like meh? What do yah know?" She asked with a feigned light-hearted tone, looking at him from the side. There was a tension between her shoulder blades, but she ignored it, trying to persuade herself that her cover hadn't been blown.
"I know that you arrived here yesterday, late evening." He said while fingering his glass, looking very relaxed. "I know that you've been around the neighbourhood all day, under the cover of being a journalist and I know that you have been asking Lisa Maddock a lot of questions about the fires."
Shit, that's not good.
Rogue kept smiling, trying to keep up her poker face.
"Are yah saying that Ah'm not a journalist?"
"I'm saying that you're more than what you pretend." He glanced pointedly at Rogue's gloved hands that were neatly entwined upon the counter. Rogue reflexively balled them to fists and put them in her lap, out of sight.
He knew she was a mutant.
The skin on the back of her neck prickled, sending chills down her spine. Her mind started to race, replaying the past hours to try and remember if there had been any signs of being followed. How, how, how? She hadn't noticed anything. Then how did he know what she had done all day? How did he know she was a mutant? How did he know that she was under cover?
She looked at his profile squarely. He hardly seemed to notice her discomfort, his focus was on the glass in his hands.
Okay deep breath. He's blown your cover, but it's not like he could hurt yah or anything. You're an X-man, you can take down anyone.
Having said that in her mind, the tension rolled off her like water and her mind cleared. The corner of her lips curled up in a small smile.
"What was your name again?" She asked, her chin resting on her gloved hand, elbow on the counter. The man grunted.
"Harold, Harold Quinn, at your service."
"Nice to meet yah, Harold." She grinned. "Ah suppose it's a pointless to introduce mahself as Alice Smith now." She peered at him underneath her lashes. "So how come yah know so much about meh?"
"'Cause I'm here for the same reasons as you." For the first time since they met, he met her gaze, levelly. Rogue cocked an eyebrow, suddenly very interested.
"Which is?"
"To stop the mutant who's been causing all the fires."
Rogue's stomach made flipflops, and she could practically feel the surge of adrenaline in her blood, heating her from the inside. So it was a mutant who was guilty.
"Yah sure it's a mutant?"
"Yes, I am." He confirmed, his tone sure and unwavering. Excitement coursed through her, but she remained attached on her seat.
"So what are yah gonna do now?" She asked curiously, her voice traced with the pleasant thrill of revelation. Now she knew. Her mind reeled and she knew what she was going to do next, how her plan would be carried out and how it would end. And yet she remained still, chattering with the old man, hoping she would be able to drag out just a little more information that could be helpful.
"I'm an old fellow, my days of action are long pass. But my boss is very keen to eliminate all the threats to mutant's reputation, so he sends me to deal with this rogue mutant." Rogue winced a little at his choice of words, but he didn't notice. "I'm the best to handle predicaments like this, though I might not do the actual job itself, I always delegate the dirty work to someone else. I've got contacts. I know there is a crazy pyromaniac prowling these woods, burning everything at sight and it's just a matter of time before there's another conflagration and the police discover who's behind it. It would be defile the perception of mutants even more if this would become public. My boss is not so keen on that idea, so here I sit with a person who might be able to stop this renegade, before any accidents happen."
Rogue blinked, staring at him with a surprised look on her face.
"Are yah hiring meh?"
"Do you want money?" He countered.
"Ah don't need money." Rogue declared and met his gaze levelly. "Ah'm here because of mah work and Ah'll stop this mutant even if yah don't offer meh anything in return."
"Very well then." He drank up his beer and then turned to fully face her. "The mutant has been seen wandering in the northern parts of the woods. I'd search there if I were you."
Rogue nodded in acknowledgement, and he stood up to leave, but hesitated for a moment. Peering at her sideways he said, "When you have dealt with the mutant… Come and see me. I'd like to know when it's done."
"Why sho'."
"Thanks, I owe you one."
And with that, he left.
*
*
*
*
*
»So we're going out to kick some ass then?« A psyche in her head asked eagerly. Rogue scowled and zipped up her combat suit.
»Correction; Ah'm going out, 'cause Ah'll kick some ass.«
»Details, details.«
Rogue snorted.
It was past midnight, the darkness was so dense it was almost impossible to even see your own hand in front of your face. The sky must have been cloudy, she figured, because there was no sight of the moon or the stars.
Rogue walked in the woods, listening intently for any sounds out of the ordinary. It was impossible to see anything, the world was completely devoid of light, so she had to carefully feel her way through to avoid stumbling over roots and stones.
It was a slow and arduous process, taking its share amount of time.
»Rogue, why won't you like, use Dazzler's powers to light the way? It'll be much easier and faster that way.« Kitty's psyche suggested, while Rogue almost stumbled into a tree.
»No, it'll give away my position not only to the mutant Ah'm chasing, but also to the whole neighbourhood. The forest isn't so dense it'll hide a bright light like Dazzler's.« Rogue argued and continued to make her way through the vegetation.
She could almost feel the psyche's mull over the predicament and whisper to each other, trying to find a solution.
It took a while before one of them came up with an idea.
»Why won't you use Gambit's powers? He can see in the dark and that won't give you away to anyone.« Someone suggested.
»Don't even think about it!« She snapped heatedly. »Ah am not going to let that swamp rat loose in mah head again.« There was a small pause, uncertainty practically radiated from the psyches.
»Uhm, he's already out.« One of them said slowly, afraid of becoming target of Rogue's anger.
»WHAT?« She exclaimed loudly, her focus shifting entirely to the plains of her mind. »Where is he?«
»He broke out a while ago, when you weren't paying attention.« Another supplied hastily.
»But Ah didn't feel a thing!«
»Well, he is a thief after all. Suppose it's his job to get through defence mechanisms undetected.«
»Where is he now?«
»Resting. It was strenuous for him to break free when he's such a weak psyche, but he did it anyway. Crazy man. I'd never do it.«
Rogue cursed under her breath, halted mid-step and straightened herself. She could barely distinguish the shapes of the trees in the dark, no matter how much she tried to focus her eyes; the shadows were too thick. It was painfully obvious that she needed help to get through the wall of darkness without stumble herself to death, but no matter how much she racked her brain to find someone else than Gambit to help her, she couldn't find anyone.
She took her sweet time to curse and grumble over the injustice of it all, before she sighed, bit her lips and called out in her mind.
»Gambit?«
Only silence met her.
»Gambit, where are yah?« She tried again with a note of annoyance creeping up in her voice.
Still nothing. Rogue hissed in frustration.
»Gambit!« She yelled finally, her patience out of the window. Something shifted in her mind and she could feel his presence at the edges of her awareness.
»Chère, I love to hear y' scream m' name.« He hummed jovially, though his voice was hollow and thin of the strain. Rogue pressed her lips to a thin line, trying not to get riled up by his lewd comments.
»Ah need your powers.« She confessed evenly and flexed her fingers to get rid of the urge to ball them into fists. »Can yah manage for a few minutes?«
»Bien sûr, anyt'ing f' de ladies.« He smirked, she could feel it. But she ignored his comments and reached out to tap his powers.
It became immediately clear that she only had a few minutes before his powers would give out, he was too exhausted and spent to go on longer than that, but it would help as long as it lasted.
She opened her eyes and could finally discern her surroundings, even colours though they were a bit duller than in daylight.
Eagerly, she set out in a fast sprint, her steps not louder than the whisper of a wind against the soft, leaf-padded ground. Lithe like a cat, she jumped over obstacles, dodged branches and ghosted her way through the forest.
Even at her speed, she could see every detail of the forest; the leaves, the ribbed bark, the textured flecks of rock that showed beneath the thick layer of moss. It was all clear and sharp in her vision; nothing escaped her notice.
After a few moments of a fast pace, she reached the northern parts of the woods. Here, she slowed down to scrutinize her surroundings more thoroughly.
All of a sudden, something silvery flashed in the periphery of her vision and she turned around to see something metallic on the ground, dimly reflecting the almost nonexistent light from the clearing sky.
Intrigued, she bent down to examine the object that had caught her attention. It was a small plastic device, partly made of metal, with three buttons on the side and with a small display. Rogue twisted and turned it, trying to figure out what it was. Could it some kind of search device? Like a pager or some kind of GPS? It had a similar look of one.
She was just about to figure out the functions of the buttons, when she suddenly heard the faint echo of a voice.
It was distant, coming from a few hundred yards to the left of her and had an eerie, melodious rhythm.
Rogue sharpened her senses, trying to discern the muffled words. It took her a few seconds for her to realise it was somebody singing.
"Bah-da bah-da-da… Bah-da bah-da-da…"
The sound slowly became clearer as the origin of it came exceedingly closer to her.
"Monday, Monday, so good to me…"
Rogue stood up, her muscles tensing and her fingers tingling as she waited.
"Monday mornin', it was all I hoped it would be…"
The person singing came even closer, so close she could hear the rustling sound of leaves getting trampled.
"Oh Monday mornin'…"
The voice was loud and clear now, the person singing just behind a row of trees. Rogue slowly moved without making a sound, crouching a little to hide from direct eyesight. She readied herself in a battle position, her breathing slow and even.
"Monday mornin' couldn't guarantee…"
Rogue tried to catch the sight of the person, but shrubbery and trees blocked her view effectively.
"That Monday evenin'…"
She could hear the voice a few paces away, almost passing her hide-out.
"You would still be here with me…"
Tentatively, she edged closer.
"Every other day, every other day…"
She could see a shadow of a person move in front of her, but the person was still obscured from vision.
"Every other day of the week is fine…"
Suddenly, a loud crackling noise came from behind her, and Rogue caught her breath and swirled around.
It took only a fraction of a second before she realised it was a decoy, but a kick had already connected with her back, and she was sent flying. She hit the ground hard and rolled, winded and bruised.
She coughed, air rushing back into her lungs, and she braised herself against the ground. The hit had caused her to lose focus, and as Gambit's powers slipped from her grasp, her vision darkened.
"And the thing is… I didn't even eat the cheese…"
She hoisted herself up on one elbow, and turned around, back on the ground, to find the person singing, towering over her. Flames had erupted around them when she hadn't looked, and the backlight made the person only look like a tall shadow.
"Monday, sometimes it just turns out that way…" The mutant finished, the last notes of the song swallowed by the crackling of the fires.
The mutant looked down at Rogue with a glint in the eyes, a slow smile spreading.
Rogue swallowed hard and braced herself.
*
*
*
*
*
A/n; Hello everyone, I'm back!
Wow, this chapter… how I have struggled with it. The reason it took so long to write was because at first, something was just off. I can't describe it, but every time I thought back at it, I just knew something was wrong with it but I couldn't figure out what exactly. I mulled over it for days until I finally discovered where I had made the mistake, and then I quickly fixed it.
So now we're here. You could say that as of this chapter we're getting into part two of the story. Part one was kind of slow, just so I could have the chance to warm up the writing and adjust to all of this, which is still very new to me. Next part though, will have a higher pace and the Romy will start for real. Feel excited, 'cause it'll be fun and delicious.
I can also mention that this chapter is very, very important since it's the foundation of the upcoming chapters. Just so you know.
Next chapter;
Chapter 13; Scent in the Wind.
Rogue makes a huge discovery, and you'll find out what my Romy surprise is! Dun-dun-du-DUHN!
Oh, and let's have a little contest shall we?
The one who can figure out who the mysterious enemy is from this chapter will get a golden star and a quick update!
So, keep guessing. ^^
Hugs,
Fahne.
