Truth is Overrated: I was a late bloomer. An old man swooped in and then dropped me into the crazy world of his School for Mutants my senior year of high school. To the surprise of everyone else, I turned out all right. It's been a long time since I called the Institute home, but now I'm back and I think I might be here to stay. Sequel to Normalcy is Overrated.
Disclaimer: The X-Men, SHIELD, the Avengers, the Brotherhood of Mutants, and any other familiar characters are not my property. I claim no ownership of them. They are the creation and property of their creators and the rich assholes that control their every movement. I simply like to toy with them.
Author's Note: Beware the short little scene between our favorite gal and her grumpy Sabes. The action, pun intended, kicks into high gear next chapter!
"The truth is overrated." – Paul Westerberg
~Chapter Twenty-Six~
"She looks beautiful, doesn't she?"
"Yes." I eyed the bride thoughtfully as Ororo adjusted her pearl-lined headpiece delicately. She looked stunning, of course, but I'd expected nothing less from Jean Grey, soon to be Jean Grey-Summers. "You look amazing, Jean."
She stared at her own reflection for several moments and I noticed the tears that gathered in her lashes, but was silently pleased when she refused to let them fall. The last two days had been extremely stressful, but she'd maintained her calm and cool exterior with an ease that made me jealous.
"I'm going to check in on the rest of the group." I eyed Ororo for a moment before she nodded her head the slightest bit – which simply meant that she'd stay close to Jean until I returned. "I'll bring back another bottle of the bubbly stuff," I promised as I slipped out of the crowded room.
The beach bungalow had been converted by a small staff of decorators and caterers and florists for the occasion. The wedding itself would occur on the expanse of private white sand beach that would be littered with flower petals. Between the Grey's contribution, Scott and Jean's own deep pockets, and the graciousness of Charles Xavier, no expense had been spared.
I slipped through a gathered mass of servers and members of the catering staff as they continued to prepare for the reception. A smiling florist slipped past me as she continued to decorate the interior of the bungalow with bright flashes of flora, even though the main portion of the reception was to occur outside near the pool.
The groom's party was clear across the bungalow in an oversized guest room that served its purpose well. I knocked on the door and it was immediately opened. Laughter and male camaraderie filled the room with a heavy veil of testosterone that was nearly palpable.
Logan looked down at me with a grin on his face as I stepped into the room, brown eyes sweeping the room thoughtfully. Everyone was, thankfully, already fully clothed and prepared for the ceremony. The AC was on full blast and everyone seemed to be enjoying cigars and beer and chatting amiably.
Scott looked up briefly from where he sat surrounded by Alex and Warren and Jean's father, but quickly looked away and was once again engaged in conversation. Other than the stiffness in his shoulders, he looked very relaxed and rather debonair in his dark tuxedo and ruby-red glasses.
The man that I'd been seeking was nowhere to be found. I felt a hand come down on my shoulder and looked up at Logan in surprise as he nodded toward the door that led out onto a terrace. "Went to take a quick patrol, kid. How's Red doin'?"
"Great," I answered immediately, shoulders sagging as he stared at me with knowing hazel eyes. "She's nervous, but the wedding day nerves are more prominent than the "holy fuck someone is trying to get to me" nerves." She had some spine, Jean Grey, and it surprised me more and more. "You look sharp, Logan."
He grinned knowingly and didn't even stiffen awkwardly when I slipped into his arms for a rough hug. The man smelled like beer, rain, and cigars – but I didn't mind whatsoever. His hazel eyes peered down at me thoughtfully as I stepped back and smoothed down the dress I wore. "You look good, kid. Look like a real lady in that dress."
I grinned in response and didn't bother to mention that I had an adamantium knife strapped to one thigh and a pistol strapped to the other. The dress was frilly and loose-fitting enough around my legs that it wouldn't draw any attention to the hidden weapons, which was the point. That was, of course, unless the wind kicked up and caused the hem of the dress to lift more than a couple of inches. It hit me mid-thigh, which allowed only a couple of inches of safety between the hidden weapons and viewable skin.
Like the other bridesmaids, I was dressed in the golden yellow dress that Jean had picked out. While Rogue looked like a fairy tale princess in hers, I felt less than perfect in mine and wished that I hadn't let them talk me into wearing my hair up. The small hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and I felt overwhelmed by the sensation of different men throughout the room glancing at me speculatively.
Jean's family probably wonders why Logan hugged me, I realized with a slight frown. "I'm going to check on Victor and then head back up. Make sure Scott doesn't get drunk and he makes it there in one piece, Logan."
The feral mutant grinned knowingly as I slipped out of the terrace doors and breathed in the salty scent of the ocean. The heels I wore were momentarily forgotten as I stepped out of them and picked them up with my left hand. I searched the quiet garden below and saw no one but a wandering florist that seemed occupied with talking on her cell phone.
Quickly, I hopped up onto the railing and shot into the air in a streak of yellow gold, flying low and slow as I searched for a familiar figure. I spotted him quickly, on the far side of the perimeter camouflaged by trees and foliage. He didn't look up as I landed on the sandy shore next to him, but his shoulders lifted slightly.
"Anything?"
"Couple strange scents, but nothin' I can place." He grunted as he turned slightly, his amber eyes narrowing when they met mine. "All dolled up, are we?"
My brown eyes raked over his form and I wondered, however briefly, where he had left his light jacket. Like the others, he was garbed in a tuxedo that included dark pants, a crisp white linen shirt, and a tie. But, his tie was loose around his neck and the top three buttons of his shirt were undone, exposing a tantalizing glimpse of his chest and dark hair.
"You don't look half-bad yourself, Creed."
He smirked down at me as his eyes roamed downward to settle at the cleavage that the strapless gown provided. Those eyes trailed lower and the tanned skin of my legs tingled with anticipation; it was if I could already feel the callused palms of his hands pushing my legs apart while he...
I shook my head and his eyes darkened as though he'd been privy to my particular train of thought. "If this was an op, I'd either have a ridiculous amount of backup or it would be canceled. I don't like it."
"Me neither," he admitted gruffly. "I like that dress, though. Hair's a little messed up."
"It's going to be even more messed up if you don't keep your hands to yourself," I warned him as he stared down at me hungrily. "Have you been to a lot of weddings?"
He had started reaching for me, but my question seemed to throw him off. Abruptly, his eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared and his mood shifted from hungry to annoyed. "All the interesting things you got goin' on in front of you, and you wanna ask how many weddings I been to? You shittin' me?"
"Just curious, is all."
"And I'm curious to see if ya got anything on under that dress," he purred, eyes darkening. I could have discouraged him from sliding his arms around me and tugging my chest towards his, but I didn't want to. The truth of the matter was that I longed to find myself in his arms, even though we'd spent the night and the morning tangled around each other. "Can't be much, given that the dress ain't much."
"And I bet you're thinking that you're going to get a chance just because we're a ways from the house and it's unlikely that anyone is going to wander by, huh?" I teased as I let the shoes in my grasp fall to the ground, mostly forgotten. His hair felt silky against my skin as I dragged my fingers through it thoughtfully. "As expensive as this dress is, I'm pretty sure that Jean would notice if it got rumpled, Victor."
"Could take it off and hang it from a branch," he suggested lowly as he lowered his head to nip at my exposed shoulder. I shivered in response, already working the time schedule over in my head. If we were quick, I could make it back in time to adjust my hair and makeup and nobody would, hopefully, be any wiser. "Just lookin' at ya has got me all hot and bothered."
"I thought the wedding hookups were supposed to happen after the ceremony when everyone's drunk. You're always a little ahead of the competition, aren't you?"
"Better not be any competition," he warned me with a growl as he kissed my neck greedily. "I'll fuckin' gut someone, and ya damn well know it, Danielle."
There was something about the way that the man said my name that made me forget all manner of decorum. It became a heated rush to get the dress off, which required a much more delicate hand than either of us had on average. But, he was able to carefully attack the zipper down my back and peel the dress off of me. To his word, he hung the dress from a branch before he let his amber eyes rake over my form.
Surprise lit in his eyes as he took in the sight of the gun and the knife, but he seemed to accept them as his eyes traced my form up. He licked his lips at the white lace panties and white strapless bra I wore, and I wondered if he would at least make sure the panties remained in one piece.
There was no need for foreplay or gentle coaxing. I was shaking with desire by the time he lowered his pants and his erection sprang free. His eyes captured mine hungrily and he slid my panties down and lifted me into the air with an ease that belied his animal nature. He braced my back against a tree, his hands cupping my ass, and teased me with his dick until I wanted to strip every piece of clothing off of him and skip the wedding altogether.
The pain faded immediately as he thrust up into me, filling me with hot and wet heat. Bark from the tree dug into my back, but I was careful to rest my chin on his shoulder to avoid messing up my hair. My fingers dug into his back as he ground into me, fucking me as his lips suckled and licked at my neck and shoulder greedily.
Sounds from the rest of the wedding party went mostly unnoticed as we lost ourselves in one another. The sounds of our lovemaking were mostly quiet save for soft murmurs and whispers and our flesh meeting. Sweat slipped down my back in a thin rivulet, but I ignored everything except for the glorious sensation of being filled, the way that every bit of friction made my swollen clit quiver in anticipation.
Minutes passed by before he grunted and dug his fingers ever-more-sharply into my ass. I bit down on my lip to keep from screaming as my body clutched around his, milking and milking as he shuddered and spilled himself inside of me.
My muscles, tensed from our brief interlude, relaxed after my climax. Slowly, he pulled himself out of me and lowered my feet to the ground. To my surprise, he offered me a handkerchief from his pocket and motioned for me to clean myself up.
It didn't do the job, but nothing would do the job like a shower. Still, I was able to clean myself up enough that I looked almost presentable. No one would even notice, except for the mutants with enhanced senses and the telepaths. And I had it on good authority that none of the telepaths would dare bring up the topic in front of me.
Jean might, I admitted to myself as I fixed my panties and tossed the soiled handkerchief at him. To my surprise, he sniffed the scrap of cloth audibly before he tucked it into the pocket of his pants. He adjusted his pants and buttoned them before he smoothed down his hair and fixed his shirt.
We remained quiet, thoughtful, as he helped me back into the dress and zipped it up. "I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to control myself around you," I admitted more to myself than to him. "And that bothers me."
"I was damn sure I'd get you out of my system and I'd move on," he replied quietly, his eyes searching mine as I picked up my heels. His words made me think of the conversation we'd had in my bedroom the night after we'd first slept together, and I wasn't sure what to think of them. "Don't know how I'm ever gonna get tired of you, and that pisses me off."
Oddly complimented, I stared up at him with a faint smile as I tried to fix a few stray strands of brown hair that had fallen over my forehead. "You sure now how to make a girl feel special, Creed."
"Used to fuckin' 'em and leavin' them."
"No one is stopping you," I reminded him gruffly, a brow lifted in challenge. "Nothing is holding you here, least of all me. I wouldn't want to keep you from doing whatever is it that you think is best. Do I enjoy sleeping with you? Sure. Damn fucking straight."
"And it ain't no more than that?"
The question hung in the air for several moments before I forced myself to shrug my shoulders. It was a question I'd pondered for some time and I wasn't entirely sure how to respond. Part of me had grown far too accustomed to his presence, and whenever we weren't rolling around in the sack we got along pretty well. We even had a lot of the same differences and could tolerate each other better than I would have ever thought possible.
But was it more than sex?
I quirked my head to the side and blinked, lips curled into a faint frown. "I don't know. There's definitely something simmering under the surface, but I think that we're both too scared, too hesitant, to let it bubble all the way up. Maybe it's safer that way," I admitted grudgingly. "There are some things in this world I'm not sure some of us are meant to have. The kind of life we tend to lead... It doesn't necessarily bode well for long term arrangements, Creed."
"I didn't say that I was necessarily talking long term."
"Then what were you saying?"
He stared down at me in challenge and I wanted to reach up and tangle my fingers in the man's hair. The energy between us was more challenging than anything I'd ever experienced, and it was as exhilarating and terrifying as fighting the Hulk. "We ought to get back. Folks are gonna know without a doubt what we been up to if you show up with that glow in your cheeks."
"And I'm sure the look of satisfaction on your face won't give you away at all."
"Got to dip my wick, course I'm satisfied," he responded easily, a man comfortable with the topic of sex. "You look damn pleased yourself, darling."
"Well, you are a half-decent fuck, I guess," I offered casually, glancing down at my nails for added insult. "If the reception gets too boring, maybe I'll hunt you down and we can have a quick romp on the beach."
"Been there," he chuckled, the sound smooth as silk. "Done fucked like that."
"Oh, as creative as you are, I'm sure we'll never get bored." I adjusted my dress one last time and looked toward the bungalow and released a soft sigh. I'd been away for far too long and I felt the tiniest bit of guilt for leaving Jean's side for so long. "I better get back. I'll see you in a bit."
To my surprise, he grabbed my wrist and tugged me toward him. His lips roamed over mine gently and only the faintest bit of heat and need seeped through him. Confused, I blinked up at him after he pulled away, torn between pleasure and frustration. When I realized that it was his way of bidding me farewell, I turned on my heel and shot into the air like a blur.
I tried to remind myself that it was the wedding, that all of the gooey-eyed and bubbly people had rubbed off of me in the strangest of ways. But, I wasn't sure if I could believe my own advice.
I landed on different veranda and grimaced when a member of the catering staff nearly swallowed the cigarette he'd been sneaking. His eyes widened and he stared at me with a mixture of terror and fascination upon his face as I slipped on my shoes.
"Pretty day for a wedding, isn't it?"
"Uh, yeah. It's beautiful out," he agreed. The terror in his eyes lessened and I felt his gaze drag over my form a few times as I carefully tucked a few strands of hair into place. "Beautiful."
I slipped past him and into the air conditioned building with a sigh of relief. People tottered to and fro in every direction, all busy with their own tasks and worrying over ensuring that the couple's day was as perfect as possible. One of Jean's family members blinked at me in confusion as I slipped into a bathroom long enough to fix my hair and adjust my appearance. By the time I made it back to the bridal suite, I felt confident enough that I looked only slightly rumpled.
"It's time for pictures!" Elaine announced and clapped her hands together happily. "They should be finishing with the bridegroom's pictures soon. Let's get in position."
A photographer had hovered in the bridal suite all through the grand preparation, but Elaine wanted formal photos of the bridal party on the veranda. I stepped out first and scanned the area quickly before I verified that we were reasonably well out of sight from the rest of the wedding party. The veranda itself overlooked a small courtyard that was completely empty. With a faint sigh, I turned on my heel and remained in the background while Elaine and the photographer ordered the other women into place.
Despite the stress of the day, Jean was the most beautiful bride I had ever seen. I silently wondered why more realistic women like Jean weren't used on the bridal magazines that littered every street vendor in New York City. Her skin was just barely sun-kissed and her eyes were alight with love and warmth and so much happiness that it was contagious.
"Bridesmaids!" the photographer demanded, glancing over her shoulder at me. I hesitated near the French doors before stalking forward to stand austerely next to Marie. "No, no. You're supposed to be happy!"
I didn't know Jean's cousin well, but she smiled at me nervously and I slipped an arm around her waist. Marie slipped her arm around mine and Kitty followed suit as she posed between Marie and Ororo. Several photos were taken before Jean's cousin stepped aside and the women from the Institute had the spotlight to themselves.
Elaine hovered near Jean and adjusted her dress multiple times, all while murmuring instructions to the photographer. Marie nudged me and I smirked at her whispered idea. Though Jean gasped in surprise, she quickly burst into genuine laughter when I swept her into my arms bridal style. She posed bouquet in hand and extended over her head as the other women from the Institute jumped into the picture and several photos were taken.
When Marie jumped into the air, I simply held Jean aloft with one hand and held Marie up in the air at my side. A moment later, Lorie jumped into her mom's arms and we all posed with funny expressions upon our faces.
Though Elaine looked torn between amusement and horror, she stepped up to me and made me lean down so that she could pat a bit of powder onto my cheeks. "My girl likes you," she murmured. The photographer had Jean pose near the marble railing of the veranda with the sunlight kissing her back. I met Elaine's gaze and held it as she smoothed lip stain over my lips. "I overheard some of the girls talking about you earlier today, Danielle." And, boy, did it sound weird to hear her say my name. "She looks at you like family, so I want you to know that I do, too."
Stunned, I accepted her hug uneasily and stared over her shoulder at the smiling bride. I wondered if she had shared the secret news with her mother, but dismissed the thought. Given the uncertain circumstances, I could only assume that Jean would be overly cautious and wouldn't want her mother to worry any more than absolutely necessary.
"Aunt Dani!" Elaine stepped away and a familiar figure lept into my arms. She grinned brightly and revealed another missing tooth. "Mama said I get to throw the flower petals soon."
"You do? I thought I got to do that?" With a pout, I tugged on the silk satchel she clutched in her fist and pretended I planned to steal it from her. While I wouldn't admit it to anyone aloud, I thought Lorie looked absolutely darling in her dress. She was the epitome of cute in a yellow frilly dress. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do then!"
She giggled in a sneaky tone and leaned closer, and I enjoyed the way that she felt against my hip and side. "Mama said you get to walk down the aisle and make Mr. Creed want to marry ya."
My stomach clenched at her words, but I hid the confusion with a smile. "I bet it would be cooler if I did cartwheels down the aisle and then flew Jean in on my back, don't you think?" Her eyes lit up in wonder as she pictured the scene, and she quickly bobbed her head in agreement. "One of these days, you're going to get to be the flower girl at your Mama and Daddy's wedding. We're going to get the ball rolling, you and me."
"We can have it at the School outside!"
She giggled when I tickled her sides and gently sat her down on the floor. "I want you to be on your best behavior and be sure to stick close to your Mama." I was careful to ensure that nobody outside of the X-Men was alerted to the possibly dangerous situation, but I wanted the girl to be on her best behavior. "I mean it, Lorie. Listen to your Mama and keep an eye on your Aunt Dani, ok?"
With a quick nod, the girl ran to the opposite side of the room to stand near her Mama, who dragged her hand over the girl's hair while she conversed with Kitty. I watched the scene for a short moment before I sighed and walked over to a clutch purse that sat on a table in the corner of the room. My back to the rest of the group, I opened the purse and retrieved a tiny and nondescript piece of rubber and plastic and tucked it into my ear.
"Is everyone online?" I asked as I stared down at my purse. "Where are we?"
"Groom's waitin' outside and the party's settling down. Expecting bride any moment." Logan grunted and muttered a rude comment about his uncomfortable outfit. "What's the ETA?"
"Is Jean ok, Dani?"
"She's fine, Scott. You worry about you right now. I'll take care of your bride."
The four of us – Scott, Logan, Victor, and me – were outfitted with small communicators so that we could remain in contact throughout the course of the wedding. We had discussed strategy the night before and had finally come to the agreement that the telepathic network that Jean or Xavier could construct simply wasn't reliable. Contingency plans were in place and we were as prepared as possible.
"It's time!" Elaine shouted, which caused the noisy room to fall silent. "Oh, Jean... You're really getting married."
I turned on my heel and watched, as emotionally removed as any agent on protective detail, as Elaine and Jean embraced. Lights flashed as people, including the photographer, took pictures of the heartwarming moment. A smile fixed in place, I picked up the small bouquet I was expected to carry and walked toward the bride easily.
I'm getting married, Danielle.
You look so perfect. It was the truth, and she nodded in reply as she adjusted her hair and dress one last time. Women not part of the actual bridal party filed out of the room and headed down toward where the ceremony would take place. I hope you know you've got that pregnancy glow going on.
She faltered but managed to not trip over her own feet, but Jean sent an unhappy murmur of telepathic energy in my direction. Be careful. When this is all over, I could make you spend the rest of your life believing that you're a six year old girl.
I grinned as I met up with Marie and preceded the bridal party out of the room. Only if you promise to braid my hair!
"Let's make sure this is perfect," I murmured to myself. But, I knew that the men heard me loud and clear, especially Logan and Victor. "Here we come."