A/N

I wasn't talking about you Jinx, but welcome to the fold, and if the shoe fits.

During the week, I'm only managing one chapter, mostly because these are longer (I'm writing most of these on my lunch break at work on a Blackberry, so please excuse typos and the wonders of autocorrect.) I will be out of town this weekend, but I will try to get two updates up at least. So apologizing in advance for those used to the fast updates, but I'll do what I can, and not get texting thumb.

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Victor growled low as she scurried down the hallway, he heard the lock on her door and felt his claws scraping the granite of the counter top.

How could he have been so stupid, so fucking frail. He had to get better control than this. A simple conversation over pizza, and he'd had her against the damned fridge ready to...what?

That had been what stopped him, he had her where he wanted her, her scent thick with arousal, ready for him, and he'd frozen. He didn't know what to do next. He'd tasted her lip, the fine sheen of sweat on his tongue as arousing as the overpowering musk scent coming from her. She'd started to touch him, and that's when the confusion hit.

She wanted to touch him, he'd never let a frail touch him freely, only by force, and only in certain places where he could control the contact. Her fingers had just brushed his cheek before he'd thrown her across the room. No frail touched his face, hell no male either, unless it was in a fight. He had too many memories of Mrs. Howlett, brushing her fingers over his cheek, thinking he was asleep, as she left his father's bed. Of his father hitting him in the face over and over in a drunken rage. Of James wiping frail tears of pain, after finding him after one very severe beating. After they'd left, he'd never let anyone touch his face, never.

He was still trembling, and he knew a cold shower wasn't going to ease the ache in his groin, and he didn't have many other options. With her locked away, and him responsible for June tonight, he couldn't even call one of the few prostitutes that could handle his rage, his need to rape and rend.

And that was when it hit him. He wasn't enraged, the thought of rape turned him off, and he was confused, aroused, and frustrated, but not enraged. The thought of another frail touching him turned his stomach. He didn't even think he'd be able to handle scent, especially the scents he normally inspired. Fear, anger, pain, none of those were on his top list of scents at the moment. Karen wasn't afraid, a little pissed off, and very aroused, but no pain, even after he threw her against the wall.

He jumped at a knock on the door. He let out a low growl, took a scent, and groaned, then went to answer it. He knew the scent, but when he opened the door, she was in normal skin and long blonde hair.

"Mystique, come in."

"You look a little out of sorts toni...what the hell is a high chair doing in your kitchen?" As soon as the door closed her skin flowed back to its normal blue scales, her hair to its normal red. The change paused halfway through as she spotted the high chair, then she composed herself and stood naked in front of him.

"Long story, short version is my daughter, June." He really didn't want to try to explain to his former...not even lover, but she'd born a child with his genetics, something neither of them were that proud of.

"Oh, I have to hear that long story now." She dropped onto the couch with a liquid grace. He just sat down in one of the chairs. She wasn't going to make this easy. Not after the way he'd reacted to her telling him about Graydon.

"You remember April?" He said finally. Better to get it over with, let her try to kill him, then get on with business after he'd ripped a few scales off.

"The coward normal you bought for convenience?" She asked. "The one you actually fucked for two years, while working for that piece of shit, Stryker?"

"Yeah, June's mine by her." He hoped she'd take that.

"Wait a minute, we had Graydon and you refused to have anything to do with, as you said, the abominable cub, and now some convenience fuck dies and your left with one, oh that's rich?" She started to laugh.

"Not exactly, she's still alive." That stopped the laughter and he could smell the anger. "She joined a convent and couldn't raise the baby."

The anger seethed, but she at least gave him a depreciatory smirk. "A nun? She chose to become a nun instead of being fucked by you or raising your kid? That is a good one."

He just shrugged.

"And you let her?" Her eyes were actually glowing with her rage.

He shrugged again.

"Damn Creed, you're getting soft." This time the laughter brought a snarl to his lips. He'd put up with a little bit of humor, for old times sake, but if she didn't quit, he was going to gut the bitch. He wasn't going to argue with her, not after what happened in the kitchen earlier.

The sudden cry from June's room made him jump to his feet. Her mocking laughter followed him as he picked up his daughter and changed her. He quickly changed her into another onesie, and actually holding her seemed to calm him as he carried her out to the kitchen and grabbed one of the bottles Karen left in the fridge.

"Damn, you're a pro." Her voice was mocking, but he heard a twinge of something else, regret maybe.

"Do you want the job or not?" He just glared at her around the door of the fridge.

She glared, but nodded.

"You'll meet us at the airport, Mort's piloting. You'll board the plane as me with June, Karen and Mort. I'll meet up with the plane in DC. You will deplane there, act like you have a meeting, then disappear, I'll come back to the plane and board."

"Two questions." Mystique said. "Why the elaborate switch? Who's Karen?"

"I have something last minute to take care of here, and Karen is..."

"Me." Shit, he was getting soft, she'd managed to sneak up on them while he was distracted. Her scent was still so strong in the kitchen that he'd not noticed it become fresh.

"You? You're not even high enough on the evolutionary ladder to be something I'd worry about stepping in." Mystique snapped, standing and walking over to where Karen stood, circling her, flicking her light brown hair over her shoulder. He sent a warning growl as she touched what belonged to him.

"Don't judge a book by its cover, her healing factor's at least as strong as mine." Victor said, toning down the growl so it didn't disturb June.

Mystique glared at both of them but nodded her head. "Healer, huh. Easy to hide and appear normal. At least this frail's not human." She walked back to the couch.

"Damn it Victor, you have to let her get a breath, I swear, you'd have killed her by now if I hadn't come along." He watched Mystique glower as Karen skillfully removed June from his arms and sat down in the chair to finish feeding her.

"I thought I told you to go to bed and lock your door." He growled back. June must have gotten used to it by now, she just kept sucking on the bottle, just rolled her eyes at him and smiled around the bottle nipple.

"Fuck you, Victor." Karen glared at him. He bit back a groan, she was really angry now. He hoped she'd understand, hoped she'd accept things, now he had an angry frail, and one he couldn't afford to kill, or lose.

"This is just too cute, Sabretooth playing house. Magneto will die when he hears this." The false sweetness in Mystique's voice was like fingernails on a chalk board.

"Shut up, bluebutt." Victor growled. "Are you in or not?"

"I'm in, I just hope I don't throw up from all the cuteness." She stood up, without a glance at his cub and mat...he stopped himself. He wasn't going to ever allow himself to think that word, he watched her morph back into the blonde as she walked to the door.

"Thursday, ten a.m." She said from the door, "I'll be there.

He closed his eyes. Karen seemed to have gotten a grip on whatever it was that hit her in the kitchen and he was trying to calm down. Her anger was still strong, but the musk was settled to a bearable level.

He looked over and watched Karen with June while she was looking down, and felt that strange warmth again. He needed to find out what it was, and why it was creeping into his chest. He'd never felt anything like it before, the closest he could come was pride, but it was more than that.

He was feeling something else, something he'd rarely felt, and he hated himself for feeling so damned frail and weak, guilt.

"I'm sorry." He wanted to kick himself but the words tumbled out anyway. He never apologized. It was fucking frail.

"For what?" She honestly looked and smelled puzzled.

"The kitchen...I was out of line."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." She didn't look at him, she was looking at June. He wasn't going to let this go.

"Bullshit. You're here for June, not for me, and I was out of line." He felt the blood drain from his face as she looked up at him. He'd thought her reaction in the kitchen had made his blood boil, this froze it in place. The waves of pain rolling off her along with the coldness of her eyes made him realize he'd made a huge mistake.

"Fine, as I said I don't know what you're talking about. It never happened." She stood up and carried a now sleepy June toward the back of the penthouse. He wanted to follow her, but he couldn't think of a damned thing that wouldn't make this worse. He didn't know what he wanted, and he sure as hell wasn't going to try to interpret what a frail wanted.

He heard her door close, and this time when the lock clicked, it was like a knife in the gut. Tomorrow was going to be hell.