Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made from this work.
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Having passed by the place more times than she could remember, Marie never expected to find herself passing through the doors of the most infamous photography studio Westchester had to offer. From the mannequins out front always dressed for the holidays, to the tame photographs of satisfied clients, it didn't need to advertise that it specialized in the sort of boudoir photography meant to keep things interesting in a relationship.
"How the heck do you got a coupon for this place?" Marie asked of the gal who often answered to 'the usual suspect'.
"I know a guy who knows the owner. Long story short, she needed a model for some portfolio work, like, serious photography. So, tits for tats, I got paid under the table with a few IOUs," replied Jubilee with nary a hint of embarrassment.
"Is that how you got the one you gave Jean?" Enquired Clarice, if just a little too eagerly.
"Wait a minute, Jean said ya gave her cash?" Having been present at the wedding shower of the then future Missus Summers, Marie fixed Jubilee with a straight up, no bullshit dose of you got some explaining to do that she usually saved for her own students.
"She lied, one of the rare times I was intentionally projecting. 'Sides, I figured Doc Grey would want herself some photos that you won't go finding in her wedding album, you know what I'm sayin'?"
Biting her bottom lip, Marie all too easily knew just what Jubilee was saying, or rather everything she wasn't. From the gown to the garter, there was a whole lot of undressing to be done before the newlyweds could consummate their marriage, and god damn if she couldn't stop imagining Jean posing as a shy and blushing bride for the camera.
So lost to these thoughts that she didn't notice that she, nor her friends, were no longer alone, Marie let loose an embarrassed hiccup of a yelp as she stood transfixed by the eyes that captured her in theirs. Dressed in worn jeans and a loose sweater that dangled about her lithe frame, a women leaned against the counter with a smile set upon her lips.
This woman's hair, like her own, was streaked white against a reddish brown, though Marie did think that dye was at play, and that the silvery white was her natural colour. To see her smile was to know all her laugh lines had been well earned over the years, and that they were proudly worn.
"Like the ripples from a skipped stone, one beauty leads to the next. When you called to see if I had room for you to cash in one of those IOUs, I never thought you'd be bringing me such captivating friends. I should thank Piotr again for introducing us."
"Gawd, Reese! Way to keep that on the down low," snapped Jubilee, complete with a forehead smacking slap that ended with her hiding her face behind her hands, "Well I guess you guys know who that friend of a friend is now. Guys, Reese. Reese, guys."
"Marie."
"Clarice."
Introductions, and one mystery, now out of the way, Marie found she wasn't alone in silently grilling Jubilee for some certain details she had left out, like just what her and Pitor had been getting up. But that was to be an interrogation for later, as Reese announced herself anew with the slamming of a hinged slab of counter falling against the other in a loud and abrupt invitation.
"If one of you would be so nice to flip the sign to closed, I'll go get my camera."
"For flip sake, what the heck did ya get us into this time, Lee?!"
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Stripping bare another rib to toss to his namesake, Logan chased it with a beer pulled from the icy bath of the nearby cooler. Beneath him, Wolvie chewed and gnawed his way to the marrow looking a pup in heaven if he'd ever seen one. Hauling his arse up out of the beat up old Adirondack chair he'd been enjoying, there were still a couple of steaks on that needed checking, three fingers thick of the choicest cuts the butcher had to offer, with just salt and pepper to season.
And off at the end of the dock, James and Bishop stood nursing their brews for a bit of a heart to heart. The two of them had gone for a walk that had been long enough to see a rack of ribs cooked slow, having themselves a third wheel in Wolvie who kept bringing back the very sticks they absently tossed for a little game of fetch.
"Steaks up!" shouted Logan, getting himself one interested pup looking up from his bone.
Ambling back without much of a word between them, James and Bishop alike grabbed their plates of the white speckled camping kit borrowed for a barbeque down at the half sunk boathouse. Leaving the boys to enjoy a bite in some peace and quiet, he threw on another rack of ribs, pre-seasoned with a rub of spices not even his sharp nose nor tongue could make heads or tails of, just another trade secret of the best butcher Westchester had to offer.
Three bites in though, Proudstar put down his fork and knife to have a long and slow sip of his beer. It wasn't the steak that had his mouth twisted into a frown, instead it was the secret that had been let out of the bag like a mangey ol' tomcat. Giving Wolvie a petting as James figured out what he was gonna say, Logan didn't shy away from the confused gaze staring back at him.
"It's true what he said, all of it?"
Twice now Bishop had to trust his gut and fess up a hard truth, and to think of the first time, Logan didn't doubt the kid's bravery, not when he he'd gone and confessed to someone he couldn't recall from the madness of that nightmare. Raising a hand to silence him from having to go for a third round, Logan let loose a ragged breath that stole his strength for what he had to go and admit.
"I wouldn't believe it myself if I hadn't gone and lived it. Fuck, if I didn't have Chuck and Hank to tell me otherwise? Well, I might think I'd finally gone off the deep end after too damn long a life lived. And while I don't know exactly all of what Bishop here told you, I trust him enough to know whatever he told ya was something he felt ya needed to know."
It was a long while until James picked up his knife and fork again, having himself another bite of steak to be washed down with a sip of beer.
"He told me things he couldn't know about me, and how he knew." Shaking his head at the sheer craziness of it, James fixed the men who had lived that life with the respect he felt they were due, thankful to not have to find out how he'd react in their stead.
Hitting the grill to tend to his ribs, the creak and groan of weathered wood announced a James heading off for a walk, one that had a pup happy to tag along by the beckoning whistle that called Wolvie to join him. Left alone with another survivor from the war, Logan welcomed the peace and quiet as much as Bishop. Yet the remembered pain in his knuckles remained, the pain of dishing out a beating Proudstar didn't deserve, a steak dinner a sorry way to apologize.
"You're still waiting for the other boot to drop, ain't ya?"
"I just want to be ready if it does."
Clocking hours in the Danger Room that put ol' Slim Summers to shame, Bishop was a man driven by the madness that had chased him for the weeks and months it'd taken him to find his way. Cutting the kid some slack, Bishop didn't have Chuck waiting to set the record straight, not like him. The fat lot of good it did...
"While I'll drink to that, something tells me ya need a hobby. One that don't involve keepin' Hank busy putting a polish back on the Danger Room when yer finished with it."
"A hobby?" Bishop asked, with a snort of laughter that was good to hear.
"Why don't ya sleep on it."
Plating his rack of ribs, Logan snagged a couple of fresh beers and filled the empty seat James had left behind. Tossing one to Bishop, a barbeque with the boys was just another reminder of they'd been fighting for, "Cheers, bub."
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Wandering the streets of Westchester for a girls night out, any worries Marie had about walking into a boudoir photography studio had long since been forgotten. Joined by Jean, Ororo, and the Oxford bound girl of the hour herself, Kitty Pryde, it was a send off to all the special moments captured that they never be forgotten.
Lingering alongside Reese, she tried to act casual as two of her friends got up to a little monkey business with a street lamp lit up for the night.
"Jubes, you're gonna get us arrested!" snapped Kitty, even as she herself did her best Gene Kelly sans an umbrella.
"Puh-lease! You just jealous you don't have the legs for this!" Dangling upside down from on high for a risque pose, Jubilee tugged at her shirt to keep it from falling down over her head.
Snapping a few of the girls, Reese let her camera dangle as she waved them off from the light pole. Handing the lady back her cup of coffee, Marie enjoyed a sip of her chai tea with a smirk as Jubilee and Kitty kept arguing ahead of them.
"I'm still trying to figure out just which one you are."
"Huh?" Laughing at the odd remark, Marie couldn't help but notice the watchfulness Reese had for her, all saved up in the corner of her eye as they walked along.
"Well, Clarice strikes me as the quiet and shy one when left to herself, but she opens up when she's with her friends. As for Kitty? I think she's the responsible one, or at least she tries to be. Deep down I think she's a bit of a worrier, mostly because something scared her really good once."
Sucking a sharp breath at her own surprise, Marie stared after Reese in a moment of uneasy wonder. People asking questions usually lead to them asking the ones she didn't want to answer, questions like why a girl as pretty as her dressed up so much on a hot summer day. It was enough to make her wonder just what Reese knew, or what she thought she knew. But still, with the lady being a friend of Pete's, that said a lot even as it begged a question...
"So, just how do ya know Pete?"
"Piotr? He's my casual part-timer," replied Reese.
Feeling her cheeks burn as she imagined Pete working at Westchester's infamous studio, Marie didn't even notice the camera staring back at her until it was too late, the flutter of the shutter revealing Reese smiling back at her, sweet and sublime.
"Casual part-timer?"
Whatever that meant, though, it would have to wait. Walking past a store selling gemstone jewellery, Reese had her camera out again to capture a scene playing out inside, that of Ororo searching a rack of earrings for a pair to compliment the elfin beauty that was Clarice. Noticed at last, she didn't need to ask Reese just which of all the photos taken would be her favourite, it was the one undoubtedly the one which caught Ororo and Clarice waving back at them.
That would be the one to make it into the album meant to keep Kitty company through all the lonely nights she had ahead of her. Thinking back to just what Reese had been asking in her round about way, Marie let her eyes wander the shop as she wondered herself just which one she was, finding an answer in the familiar.
"I can be a bit o' the bossy one, ya know, the one trying to keep some folk I know from getting into too much trouble. Even if I don't mind me some trouble myself."
Not waiting for the older woman's impression, Marie wandered into the shop to go have a better look at something that had caught her eye, two feathers cast of silver hanging from a delicate chain. Resting a hand to her neck that fell to the very cleft of her breast, never in all of her life had she felt like that something was missing until she saw it, except for the day Logan had shown in that beat up old camper of his to give her a ride as far north as he was heading.
Clasping her hand tight against the impossible longing that drew her forward, the little white tag had her suddenly regretting her earlier shopping trip with Clarice and Jubes. Tracing a fingertip against the edge of one feather, the presence of someone behind her had Marie go stiff. Though as arms reached about to pull her into a hug, she knew without asking just who it was, Jean.
With her fret and worry melting away, now familiar hands reached for the very necklace she'd been admiring only to drape it about her neck with but a soft brush of the silver chain.
"There, just as beautiful as I thought it would look."
"Just a bit too rich for my blood at the moment, well, after a lil shopping trip with Jubes and Clarice anyways." Gently twisting the chain between her fingers, though, it was hard to imagine ever taking it off again with how right it felt.
"Sorry, no, I'm not accepting that. You never know in a shop like this when it could be the last one they have," tutted Jean, "So! What we're going to do is go up to that nice lady at the register, and you can just pay me back later."
"And here I told Reese that I was the bossy one."
Laughing at the curiosity her remark piqued in Jean, Marie surrendered to a heartfelt hug that saw her walked up to the register. Letting her misty eyes retreat to the window to search for Reese, there she stood with her camera in hand in a secret promise that she had caught that moment too. With a wave of her own, Piotr's part-time employer headed off to chase after the errant girls who had carried on ahead of them.
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