Disclaimer thingie: Marvel owns the X-Men and all of their relatives. BBC/Lionheart own Doctor Who and Ms. Sam-Jones. Highlander is, iirc, owned by Rysher Entertainment. Buffy is owned by Joss Whedon (all hail the Master) and Fox/WB. X-Files is owned by Chris Carter, Gargoyles by Disney. (I think that covers--oh.) And, Anita Blake and Edward belong to Laurell K. Hamilton. Well, not my versions, but...
Marya, OTOH, belongs to me. And, in the words of Jim Smith, "If I discover any of you jabronis using Marya, I will take your little fanfic, spellcheck it real nice, save it in .txt format, turn that sumbitch sideways, and stick it STRAIGHT UP YOUR CANDY-ASS!"
PG13/R for swearing and some nastiness.
Dedication: To Lynxie, because she's half-co-plotter, or something. And because she wouldn't let me stop writing -.- To Acetal for betaing this monster, it ain't over yet, bub. To KayJay and Mitai and Alicia for the origin of the crazy idea. And to Tapestry for helping Lynxie kick me and get it finished. Well, as finished as it ever is. I refuse to write 500 chapters.
The Rise and Fall of the House of DeZorga
Chapter Nine: All This Time Spent Waiting
by Suzy DeZorga
The phone rang again before anyone could ask another question. It was Giles, who had not only just gotten up, but also had no info for me.
I refrained from swearing, remembering that he had a bunch of musty books to go through, while Willow had the 'Net. "Giles, Willow's on her way over. Please, could you pull up anything you know on Ohmara, Legend of?"
"I can, yes. The Ring should be all I'll find, but--"
"Thanks. Call you in two hours." I hung up before he could ask more. I knew I was asking a lot with the late hour for him, but we needed information and we needed it yesterday.
"Suzy, this is the little Slayer we met the other night, isn't it?" Logan was chomping on an unlit cigar, since the house rules were that there be no smoking inside.
I nodded. "You got it. She called to invite me patrolling last night, but..." I looked away, then. I felt incredibly guilty. Buffy had been kidnapped, and I hadn't been there to stop it. I shook my head, trying to ignore the feeling so I could think clearly.
The phone rang again. And, while it was nice to get a good response from my information-gatherers, this was getting to be really, really annoying. I contemplated getting rid of the phone as I answered, "DeZorga."
"'Rya, I'm--" Elisa Maza stopped and yawned. "Sorry. Anyway, I'm heading home from my shift. I got a meeting with one of the friends I was telling you about. Can you meet him at my place, about five this evening?"
Nine hours away. By then, I might have found Buffy. "Sure. 'Lisa, go to sleep, silly woman."
"Yeah." She yawned again and hung up.
"Dammit." I glared at the dial-toning phone.
"Marya?" Storm was looking at me, apparently unsure as to whether I was sane or not. I raised an eyebrow at her. "You called us here to ask our help in finding your friend. Why don't we get on with that?"
Much as I hated to admit it, the Weather Goddess had a point. "Yeah. Do you guys mind being used as a search and rescue squad--several, since I'd like to field four to five teams, if I could...That is, if you'd all not mind...Helping." I stopped fighting for words and looked at them.
Someone snickered. Tabitha, I'd bet. Or, one of Emma's kids. Gods, the lot of them were young. "And, while you are all deciding on that, I'm off to get dressed." I grimaced at the robe I was still wrapped in. "I need my boots," I muttered.
---
Nervously pacing a very tiny room is not good for my health. Nervously pacing when no one is talking to you is even worse. Especially when you know what you need to hear. And, "Sorry, we can't," isn't it. Especially when I was being REALLY good and not even 'pathing with Nate.
During the pacing, the phone rang again. It was Alex, this time. "Finally. Alex, what the hell are the government doing?"
"Trying to fry your ass for nearly exposing their top secret sentinel factory." He snorted. "Like you didn't know that. Edward called me. Did you have to drag Mulder into it?"
"Yes," I laughed. "Stupid ass, I crack warehouses all the time, ya know? Not." I sighed, feeling a bit of hysteria ripple through me. "A friend of mine has been kidnapped. Sorry."
His voice sharpened. "One of those that helped--never mind, I can guess the answer. Look, I'll--"
"Not by the government."
For almost two minutes there was complete silence. Then he sighed. "I hate you."
"Sorry."
"I'll see what supernatural contacts there are in New York and get back to you--is there anyone else I can contact, maybe in some official capacity?"
"Yeah. Elisa Maza. She's a Detective for the NYPD." My back twinged, impatient to be out searching. "She's got the night shift, so you'll have to catch her at home."
I gave him Elisa's number, then the one for the X-Mansion--can never be too careful about how many numbers you give out. The more they have, the easier they can find you.
"Thanks, Alex. I owe you."
"Yes, you bloody well do." He hung up.
Alex Krycek was a member of one of those super-secret government conspiracy type organisations. He hated it and tended to abuse his contacts as much as possible--especially when it helped me.
It suddenly occurred to me that I ought to call Buffy's father. The man had been over-worried when I'd talked to him.
The front desk of the hotel gave me his room. He answered midway through the first ring. "Summers."
"Mr Summers, it's Marya DeZorga."
"Have you heard anything from my daughter? The police won't help--she hasn't been gone for twenty-four hours. And--"
I cut off his babbling. "Mr. Summers, I'm about to organise a group of friends and do some searching. Buffy will be fine. I promise." And then I hung up before he could ask more questions.
Considering the promise I had just made, I cursed at the NYPD. In twenty-four hours, Buffy Summers would be dead. I was going to have to find her, and fast.
I hated breaking a promise.
---
I decided to finally ditch my robe and get dressed (especially since that had been my excuse for running away from the kitchen discussion). The t-shirt I dug out had, "My body is a temple. Get on your knees and worship," printed in white across the front. It was, of course, black. Black fake leather pants slipped on my legs. Fake leather doesn't do nasty things like stick and chafe--especially when you're doing a lot of fighting. Aside from which, these were velvet-lined, so I wasn't going to freeze my ass off.
#Mare, you finally done primping?#
Raven, via Maddie. #Yeah.#
#Get your ass down here.#
#Yes, ma'am.#
As I walked back down the halls to the kitchen, I tried to divide the group up. Emma needed to stay at the mansion. As would Moira, I was sure. Lorna was out for the count. I wondered, suddenly, if Alex Summers would be up to helping us.
Dom stepped around the corner in front of me and snorted. "Dez, you realise the enormity of this search, right? New York city is a huge place."
"I know," I replied grimly. "I also know that if I don't find her by midnight, the world is going to end." I gestured towards the kitchen. "Is it safe?"
"Yeah." She caught my arm as I started to go by. "I hope you know a lot of us just put a lot of trust on the line in there."
I looked at her and sighed. "I know. I'm sorry."
"You're an unknown to nearly all of them. And those of us that do know you aren't exactly sterling examples ourselves."
"Yes." I grinned. "But you're all pure gold when needed."
She groaned at the pun and let me go. "Get in there. And may you get what you deserve."
"Yes, ma'am."
"And it isn't Scott," she hissed, as I opened the door.
I shot a glance over my shoulder, to catch her laughing eyes. "That remains to be seen."
Ever since Dom and I had drunk GW under the table, we'd been good friends. As I stepped into the suddenly silent kitchen, I reflected how good friends were. And how much Buffy meant to me. She wasn't just the Slayer--I'd known others through the years. She was special. She was... Buffy.
The kitchen was less full than it had been, I estimated about half the people had left. Didn't want to be involved, I guessed sardonically. Automatically, my arms crossed over my chest and I leaned a hip against the nearest counter. "Well?"
"We have decided," Storm said. The Weather Goddess looked relaxed and serene, as if she wouldn't be rattled even if a tree came crashing through the window and upended her mug of tea.
"Yes, I'd gotten that part." I replied, "But what did you decide? Buffy isn't getting found any faster you know."
The white-haired woman looked at me, and for an instant there was impatience in her gaze. "We have decided to help you."
"How generous of you. When can we leave?"
"I've sent the kids off to get dressed, and get Artie and Leech ready to go ice skating," Emma replied coolly. She was making another pot of coffee. With all the coffee drinkers in the house, I wondered how long the large can in the cupboard would last. A day? Two?
"Ice skating?"
"Yes, so we have an excuse," Dom said dryly from behind me.
"Indeed." The blue-furred Henry McCoy looked up from his breakfast. "An excuse will be needed to facilitate our leaving this abode for the city."
I blinked. He looked more awake than the last time I'd seen him. "Good morning, sir. I do hope you're feeling well."
"I am, thank you." He grinned toothily at me. "I must also thank you for the rescue. It was well-timed."
"It was needed." I shrugged. "Besides, I got to blow something up. I'm happy." I turned to accept the cup Maddie was handing me. "Thanks."
"Ms. DeZorga, I also wanted to let you know--I do remember meeting you."
My lips smiled, I think my eyes probably still looked terribly worried. "Thank you."
The door swung open to reveal two of Emma's kids. A blonde girl and a dark-haired young man. Both looked sort of rebellious. "Ms Frost?" the girl asked.
"Yes, Paige?"
"Jono and I are staying here."
Emma looked at her and nodded slightly. "I thought you might."
Paige looked slightly crestfallen, as if she'd expected Emma to argue. "Okay."
It suddenly occurred to me that having a large amount of teams in field required something extra. "Y'know, once I finish breakfast, I'd like to get all the telepaths in circle."
"A circle?" Paige looked at me. "And who are you, anyway?"
"Marya DeZorga," I replied absently, putting a large amount of sugar in my coffee. I liked my coffee black, but sugar was essential. Breakfast would be good, too.
"Paige Guthrie and Jonothon Starsmore."
"Nice to meet you."
#'Allo.#
I cocked my head and stared at the young man, finally realising there was something odd about him. From his nose to about the middle of his chest, he was swathed in black wrappings. Behind the wrappings, I could suddenly sense a vast amount of psionic energy. #Hallo.#
"So, are the bandages a fad that I'm not aware of, or is there a use for them?" I turned away to pull out a plate. It was time to rummage in the fridge again.
"The bandages are camouflage to keep most people from noticing."
"Noticing what?" I looked up, inspecting the boy critically, "That he's a vast store of psionic energy? That, apparently, his face is gone? Really, Emma, it's not as if I've never seen worse."
#It's me power.#
"Caught that part." The fridge was fairly sparse, but it also contained a pizza box. Mmm. Pizza. "Anyway," I pulled the box out and set it on the counter, "a circle is just a way of establishing a mental link to one, or more, telepaths. Useful when sending a bunch into the field."
The pizza had no mushrooms, luckily. I couldn't stand the things. It was consumed in short order, washed down with half a pot of coffee.
People had begun trickling back as I munched my way through the second slice. Chatter went on around me as everyone joked and got prepared to go play in New York. It was Christmas, and except for a few people, all was right with the world.
I wondered if I should feel guilty for dragging all of them into this mess. I decided not.
Maddie wandered over as I finished the last piece. "A circle?"
She'd changed into a body suit of some sort, black and a hint of green here and there. It looked nice.
"Yeah. It'll give the telepaths more stability." I downed the last of my coffee and straightened. "Right. If all the telepaths could sort of gather 'round me?"
A purple head bobbed up in the crowd and Betsy made her way over to us. Emma followed her, bringing along a dark-skinned young woman. I glanced at Nate to see him sighing imperceptibly and joining us. Which left the redheaded Rachel Summers. She looked at us and shrugged, then stepped up to stand next to Nate.
For an instant, I sensed a kinship between them and blinked. Nathan Summers, Rachel Summers...And Scott was both their father. Maddie was Nate's mum. I wondered, suddenly, who Rachel's mother was.
"This is going to be a very simple, very light connection between us." I held out my hands and loosened my shields slightly. "Just a light, continuous touch. Okay?"
Maddie gently took my left hand and reached out herself to me. For an instant, there was resistance as our shields fought, then with an almost audible snap, the link was forged. #H'lo.#
#*snort*#
On my other side, Emma reached out a hand and quickly the link popped into place. Her mind was quite cool and composed, as opposed to Maddie's which had movement and passion. Emma's passion was cold and controlled. For an instant, the three-way link wavered, then it stabilised as Nate reached out and joined it. Since we'd been in close contact previously, Nate, Maddie and I meshed well. Emma coolly wove into our nets.
"Next, please?" I asked, a little breathless at the oddly heady rush having three telepaths tapped into my brain gave me.
Next was Emma's protege, Monet St. Croix. Her mind slipped in, coolly contemptuous, while at the same time vulnerable. We were five. And then Betsy joined, her mind already familiar to me.
Finally, Rachel reached out and caught Nate's hand. She didn't so much slip in as ram in, nearly upsetting the balance. #Control, child!# Emma snapped.
#Sor-ry.# The power dimmed down and the links were perfect.
#Oh, hush. Emma, you're definitely not one to talk.# Not that Emma wanted to remember the first time we'd ever linked minds. She'd tried to absorb me, almost. We'd ended up unconscious, my defenses fighting her back. I opened my eyes, surprised to realise I'd closed them, and looked around at the others. Our hands were joined, symbolic of our joined minds. Or some shit like that.
#Well, now at least we can all yell at each other over distances.# I grinned and spoke out loud. "Lovely people, just lovely. Emma," I turned to her as we all dropped hands, some feeling slightly embarrassed. "I know you're lovely at being sneaky, but be extra-sneaky, okay?"
She snorted at me. "I'm not hip enough to say duh, Susanna."
"But you're thinking it," I replied, with a grin, then turned to everyone. "All right, people. Let's get this road on the show."
And that was that. Everyone exited the Mansion and piled into Blackbirds and Midnight Runners and we all happily flew to New York. I wish.
As it was, Leech nearly shattered the circle, Artie forgot his gloves, Jubilee accidentally set fire to Bobby's coat... And so on and so on. We got to New York city, only by a great act of Goddess--me, mainly.
Rachel and I were the only two telepaths unaffected by Leech. Which meant I went with Excalibur in the Midnight Runner. Thank Gods. I heard Hanson in the background on the Blackbird. Pete wasn't stupid, he popped in an old Pet Shop Boys cd for me.
We hit New York as Neil was describing his sinful schoolboy days. "They didn't quite succeed!" I sang along with him. "For everything I've learned to do--"
The radio interrupted us as Storm called over from the Blackbird. "We're landing in Central Park, full cloaking on."
"Roger that," Kitty Pryde responded. It suddenly occurred to me that I liked Ms Pryde. A lot. I'd watched her with Pete, noticed the way they almost seemed two parts of a whole. They were good for each other. I nodded to myself decisively and slipped over to sit next to Pete who was going through maps of downtown.
"Hey."
"Bugger off." Pete was obviously feeling the loss of his cigs as the No Smoking sign that governed the Midnight Runner precluded his destroying his lungs more.
"One thing. I like Kitty. You fuck this up, Wisdom, and I will kick your ass from here to Hell, back, and then out to Mars. Got it?"
He blinked up at me, maps momentarily forgotten. "Fuck off."
"None of my bloody business, is it?" I smiled sweetly. "Doesn't matter." I patted his head as condescendingly as I could, then turned back to my seat on the other side of the cabin.
Rachel Summers stood in my way, her eyes sort of laughing at me. I decided it was time to ask that all-important question. "So tell me, who does your hair?"
"What?" She blinked at me, then snickered. "The Phoenix Force used to. Now I do it myself."
The Phoenix Force. My nominal daughter. My only living Childe. I blinked. "The Phoenix was your mother, wasn't it."
"Sort of. My mother and father were from a different timeline. Scott Summers and the Phoenix embodied in Jean Grey. So, yeah, mom was the Phoenix."
"Cool." Wow. I had a grandchild. The mind boggled.
"We're landed." Kitty called. "Everyone up and prepare to disembark."
"Smooth landing." I smiled. "Very smooth."
End Chapter Nine
=====
'I stood at the kitchen sink, my radio playing songs like "Tainted Love" and "Love is Strange"...'
__________________________________________________
© 2000 Suzy DeZorga
Marya, OTOH, belongs to me. And, in the words of Jim Smith, "If I discover any of you jabronis using Marya, I will take your little fanfic, spellcheck it real nice, save it in .txt format, turn that sumbitch sideways, and stick it STRAIGHT UP YOUR CANDY-ASS!"
PG13/R for swearing and some nastiness.
Dedication: To Lynxie, because she's half-co-plotter, or something. And because she wouldn't let me stop writing -.- To Acetal for betaing this monster, it ain't over yet, bub. To KayJay and Mitai and Alicia for the origin of the crazy idea. And to Tapestry for helping Lynxie kick me and get it finished. Well, as finished as it ever is. I refuse to write 500 chapters.
The Rise and Fall of the House of DeZorga
Chapter Nine: All This Time Spent Waiting
by Suzy DeZorga
The phone rang again before anyone could ask another question. It was Giles, who had not only just gotten up, but also had no info for me.
I refrained from swearing, remembering that he had a bunch of musty books to go through, while Willow had the 'Net. "Giles, Willow's on her way over. Please, could you pull up anything you know on Ohmara, Legend of?"
"I can, yes. The Ring should be all I'll find, but--"
"Thanks. Call you in two hours." I hung up before he could ask more. I knew I was asking a lot with the late hour for him, but we needed information and we needed it yesterday.
"Suzy, this is the little Slayer we met the other night, isn't it?" Logan was chomping on an unlit cigar, since the house rules were that there be no smoking inside.
I nodded. "You got it. She called to invite me patrolling last night, but..." I looked away, then. I felt incredibly guilty. Buffy had been kidnapped, and I hadn't been there to stop it. I shook my head, trying to ignore the feeling so I could think clearly.
The phone rang again. And, while it was nice to get a good response from my information-gatherers, this was getting to be really, really annoying. I contemplated getting rid of the phone as I answered, "DeZorga."
"'Rya, I'm--" Elisa Maza stopped and yawned. "Sorry. Anyway, I'm heading home from my shift. I got a meeting with one of the friends I was telling you about. Can you meet him at my place, about five this evening?"
Nine hours away. By then, I might have found Buffy. "Sure. 'Lisa, go to sleep, silly woman."
"Yeah." She yawned again and hung up.
"Dammit." I glared at the dial-toning phone.
"Marya?" Storm was looking at me, apparently unsure as to whether I was sane or not. I raised an eyebrow at her. "You called us here to ask our help in finding your friend. Why don't we get on with that?"
Much as I hated to admit it, the Weather Goddess had a point. "Yeah. Do you guys mind being used as a search and rescue squad--several, since I'd like to field four to five teams, if I could...That is, if you'd all not mind...Helping." I stopped fighting for words and looked at them.
Someone snickered. Tabitha, I'd bet. Or, one of Emma's kids. Gods, the lot of them were young. "And, while you are all deciding on that, I'm off to get dressed." I grimaced at the robe I was still wrapped in. "I need my boots," I muttered.
---
Nervously pacing a very tiny room is not good for my health. Nervously pacing when no one is talking to you is even worse. Especially when you know what you need to hear. And, "Sorry, we can't," isn't it. Especially when I was being REALLY good and not even 'pathing with Nate.
During the pacing, the phone rang again. It was Alex, this time. "Finally. Alex, what the hell are the government doing?"
"Trying to fry your ass for nearly exposing their top secret sentinel factory." He snorted. "Like you didn't know that. Edward called me. Did you have to drag Mulder into it?"
"Yes," I laughed. "Stupid ass, I crack warehouses all the time, ya know? Not." I sighed, feeling a bit of hysteria ripple through me. "A friend of mine has been kidnapped. Sorry."
His voice sharpened. "One of those that helped--never mind, I can guess the answer. Look, I'll--"
"Not by the government."
For almost two minutes there was complete silence. Then he sighed. "I hate you."
"Sorry."
"I'll see what supernatural contacts there are in New York and get back to you--is there anyone else I can contact, maybe in some official capacity?"
"Yeah. Elisa Maza. She's a Detective for the NYPD." My back twinged, impatient to be out searching. "She's got the night shift, so you'll have to catch her at home."
I gave him Elisa's number, then the one for the X-Mansion--can never be too careful about how many numbers you give out. The more they have, the easier they can find you.
"Thanks, Alex. I owe you."
"Yes, you bloody well do." He hung up.
Alex Krycek was a member of one of those super-secret government conspiracy type organisations. He hated it and tended to abuse his contacts as much as possible--especially when it helped me.
It suddenly occurred to me that I ought to call Buffy's father. The man had been over-worried when I'd talked to him.
The front desk of the hotel gave me his room. He answered midway through the first ring. "Summers."
"Mr Summers, it's Marya DeZorga."
"Have you heard anything from my daughter? The police won't help--she hasn't been gone for twenty-four hours. And--"
I cut off his babbling. "Mr. Summers, I'm about to organise a group of friends and do some searching. Buffy will be fine. I promise." And then I hung up before he could ask more questions.
Considering the promise I had just made, I cursed at the NYPD. In twenty-four hours, Buffy Summers would be dead. I was going to have to find her, and fast.
I hated breaking a promise.
---
I decided to finally ditch my robe and get dressed (especially since that had been my excuse for running away from the kitchen discussion). The t-shirt I dug out had, "My body is a temple. Get on your knees and worship," printed in white across the front. It was, of course, black. Black fake leather pants slipped on my legs. Fake leather doesn't do nasty things like stick and chafe--especially when you're doing a lot of fighting. Aside from which, these were velvet-lined, so I wasn't going to freeze my ass off.
#Mare, you finally done primping?#
Raven, via Maddie. #Yeah.#
#Get your ass down here.#
#Yes, ma'am.#
As I walked back down the halls to the kitchen, I tried to divide the group up. Emma needed to stay at the mansion. As would Moira, I was sure. Lorna was out for the count. I wondered, suddenly, if Alex Summers would be up to helping us.
Dom stepped around the corner in front of me and snorted. "Dez, you realise the enormity of this search, right? New York city is a huge place."
"I know," I replied grimly. "I also know that if I don't find her by midnight, the world is going to end." I gestured towards the kitchen. "Is it safe?"
"Yeah." She caught my arm as I started to go by. "I hope you know a lot of us just put a lot of trust on the line in there."
I looked at her and sighed. "I know. I'm sorry."
"You're an unknown to nearly all of them. And those of us that do know you aren't exactly sterling examples ourselves."
"Yes." I grinned. "But you're all pure gold when needed."
She groaned at the pun and let me go. "Get in there. And may you get what you deserve."
"Yes, ma'am."
"And it isn't Scott," she hissed, as I opened the door.
I shot a glance over my shoulder, to catch her laughing eyes. "That remains to be seen."
Ever since Dom and I had drunk GW under the table, we'd been good friends. As I stepped into the suddenly silent kitchen, I reflected how good friends were. And how much Buffy meant to me. She wasn't just the Slayer--I'd known others through the years. She was special. She was... Buffy.
The kitchen was less full than it had been, I estimated about half the people had left. Didn't want to be involved, I guessed sardonically. Automatically, my arms crossed over my chest and I leaned a hip against the nearest counter. "Well?"
"We have decided," Storm said. The Weather Goddess looked relaxed and serene, as if she wouldn't be rattled even if a tree came crashing through the window and upended her mug of tea.
"Yes, I'd gotten that part." I replied, "But what did you decide? Buffy isn't getting found any faster you know."
The white-haired woman looked at me, and for an instant there was impatience in her gaze. "We have decided to help you."
"How generous of you. When can we leave?"
"I've sent the kids off to get dressed, and get Artie and Leech ready to go ice skating," Emma replied coolly. She was making another pot of coffee. With all the coffee drinkers in the house, I wondered how long the large can in the cupboard would last. A day? Two?
"Ice skating?"
"Yes, so we have an excuse," Dom said dryly from behind me.
"Indeed." The blue-furred Henry McCoy looked up from his breakfast. "An excuse will be needed to facilitate our leaving this abode for the city."
I blinked. He looked more awake than the last time I'd seen him. "Good morning, sir. I do hope you're feeling well."
"I am, thank you." He grinned toothily at me. "I must also thank you for the rescue. It was well-timed."
"It was needed." I shrugged. "Besides, I got to blow something up. I'm happy." I turned to accept the cup Maddie was handing me. "Thanks."
"Ms. DeZorga, I also wanted to let you know--I do remember meeting you."
My lips smiled, I think my eyes probably still looked terribly worried. "Thank you."
The door swung open to reveal two of Emma's kids. A blonde girl and a dark-haired young man. Both looked sort of rebellious. "Ms Frost?" the girl asked.
"Yes, Paige?"
"Jono and I are staying here."
Emma looked at her and nodded slightly. "I thought you might."
Paige looked slightly crestfallen, as if she'd expected Emma to argue. "Okay."
It suddenly occurred to me that having a large amount of teams in field required something extra. "Y'know, once I finish breakfast, I'd like to get all the telepaths in circle."
"A circle?" Paige looked at me. "And who are you, anyway?"
"Marya DeZorga," I replied absently, putting a large amount of sugar in my coffee. I liked my coffee black, but sugar was essential. Breakfast would be good, too.
"Paige Guthrie and Jonothon Starsmore."
"Nice to meet you."
#'Allo.#
I cocked my head and stared at the young man, finally realising there was something odd about him. From his nose to about the middle of his chest, he was swathed in black wrappings. Behind the wrappings, I could suddenly sense a vast amount of psionic energy. #Hallo.#
"So, are the bandages a fad that I'm not aware of, or is there a use for them?" I turned away to pull out a plate. It was time to rummage in the fridge again.
"The bandages are camouflage to keep most people from noticing."
"Noticing what?" I looked up, inspecting the boy critically, "That he's a vast store of psionic energy? That, apparently, his face is gone? Really, Emma, it's not as if I've never seen worse."
#It's me power.#
"Caught that part." The fridge was fairly sparse, but it also contained a pizza box. Mmm. Pizza. "Anyway," I pulled the box out and set it on the counter, "a circle is just a way of establishing a mental link to one, or more, telepaths. Useful when sending a bunch into the field."
The pizza had no mushrooms, luckily. I couldn't stand the things. It was consumed in short order, washed down with half a pot of coffee.
People had begun trickling back as I munched my way through the second slice. Chatter went on around me as everyone joked and got prepared to go play in New York. It was Christmas, and except for a few people, all was right with the world.
I wondered if I should feel guilty for dragging all of them into this mess. I decided not.
Maddie wandered over as I finished the last piece. "A circle?"
She'd changed into a body suit of some sort, black and a hint of green here and there. It looked nice.
"Yeah. It'll give the telepaths more stability." I downed the last of my coffee and straightened. "Right. If all the telepaths could sort of gather 'round me?"
A purple head bobbed up in the crowd and Betsy made her way over to us. Emma followed her, bringing along a dark-skinned young woman. I glanced at Nate to see him sighing imperceptibly and joining us. Which left the redheaded Rachel Summers. She looked at us and shrugged, then stepped up to stand next to Nate.
For an instant, I sensed a kinship between them and blinked. Nathan Summers, Rachel Summers...And Scott was both their father. Maddie was Nate's mum. I wondered, suddenly, who Rachel's mother was.
"This is going to be a very simple, very light connection between us." I held out my hands and loosened my shields slightly. "Just a light, continuous touch. Okay?"
Maddie gently took my left hand and reached out herself to me. For an instant, there was resistance as our shields fought, then with an almost audible snap, the link was forged. #H'lo.#
#*snort*#
On my other side, Emma reached out a hand and quickly the link popped into place. Her mind was quite cool and composed, as opposed to Maddie's which had movement and passion. Emma's passion was cold and controlled. For an instant, the three-way link wavered, then it stabilised as Nate reached out and joined it. Since we'd been in close contact previously, Nate, Maddie and I meshed well. Emma coolly wove into our nets.
"Next, please?" I asked, a little breathless at the oddly heady rush having three telepaths tapped into my brain gave me.
Next was Emma's protege, Monet St. Croix. Her mind slipped in, coolly contemptuous, while at the same time vulnerable. We were five. And then Betsy joined, her mind already familiar to me.
Finally, Rachel reached out and caught Nate's hand. She didn't so much slip in as ram in, nearly upsetting the balance. #Control, child!# Emma snapped.
#Sor-ry.# The power dimmed down and the links were perfect.
#Oh, hush. Emma, you're definitely not one to talk.# Not that Emma wanted to remember the first time we'd ever linked minds. She'd tried to absorb me, almost. We'd ended up unconscious, my defenses fighting her back. I opened my eyes, surprised to realise I'd closed them, and looked around at the others. Our hands were joined, symbolic of our joined minds. Or some shit like that.
#Well, now at least we can all yell at each other over distances.# I grinned and spoke out loud. "Lovely people, just lovely. Emma," I turned to her as we all dropped hands, some feeling slightly embarrassed. "I know you're lovely at being sneaky, but be extra-sneaky, okay?"
She snorted at me. "I'm not hip enough to say duh, Susanna."
"But you're thinking it," I replied, with a grin, then turned to everyone. "All right, people. Let's get this road on the show."
And that was that. Everyone exited the Mansion and piled into Blackbirds and Midnight Runners and we all happily flew to New York. I wish.
As it was, Leech nearly shattered the circle, Artie forgot his gloves, Jubilee accidentally set fire to Bobby's coat... And so on and so on. We got to New York city, only by a great act of Goddess--me, mainly.
Rachel and I were the only two telepaths unaffected by Leech. Which meant I went with Excalibur in the Midnight Runner. Thank Gods. I heard Hanson in the background on the Blackbird. Pete wasn't stupid, he popped in an old Pet Shop Boys cd for me.
We hit New York as Neil was describing his sinful schoolboy days. "They didn't quite succeed!" I sang along with him. "For everything I've learned to do--"
The radio interrupted us as Storm called over from the Blackbird. "We're landing in Central Park, full cloaking on."
"Roger that," Kitty Pryde responded. It suddenly occurred to me that I liked Ms Pryde. A lot. I'd watched her with Pete, noticed the way they almost seemed two parts of a whole. They were good for each other. I nodded to myself decisively and slipped over to sit next to Pete who was going through maps of downtown.
"Hey."
"Bugger off." Pete was obviously feeling the loss of his cigs as the No Smoking sign that governed the Midnight Runner precluded his destroying his lungs more.
"One thing. I like Kitty. You fuck this up, Wisdom, and I will kick your ass from here to Hell, back, and then out to Mars. Got it?"
He blinked up at me, maps momentarily forgotten. "Fuck off."
"None of my bloody business, is it?" I smiled sweetly. "Doesn't matter." I patted his head as condescendingly as I could, then turned back to my seat on the other side of the cabin.
Rachel Summers stood in my way, her eyes sort of laughing at me. I decided it was time to ask that all-important question. "So tell me, who does your hair?"
"What?" She blinked at me, then snickered. "The Phoenix Force used to. Now I do it myself."
The Phoenix Force. My nominal daughter. My only living Childe. I blinked. "The Phoenix was your mother, wasn't it."
"Sort of. My mother and father were from a different timeline. Scott Summers and the Phoenix embodied in Jean Grey. So, yeah, mom was the Phoenix."
"Cool." Wow. I had a grandchild. The mind boggled.
"We're landed." Kitty called. "Everyone up and prepare to disembark."
"Smooth landing." I smiled. "Very smooth."
End Chapter Nine
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'I stood at the kitchen sink, my radio playing songs like "Tainted Love" and "Love is Strange"...'
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© 2000 Suzy DeZorga