by Drucilla
Disclaimer: None of Mutant X belongs to me. If Adam and Mason belonged to me I'd bash their heads together. Please review! Reviews are happy, and from this point on I only have the faintest idea of where this story's going, so input is appreciated.
The horses were restless. They had always been able to sense her moods, and though today had gone well enough in the ring the confrontation between her, Mason, and Adam had left a very bad taste in her mouth. Angelique bid her horses farewell, leaving them a last treat, and started out of the stables.
It was just far enough to her hotel room that she had to drive there. Far enough for maybe three or four songs on the car's CD player. Really, she could have taken closer quarters, but all things considered she preferred the isolation, the solitude. It made her much less edgy. She put on something soothing to try and settle her down, even if she did still want to go hit something. Men. Why did men have to be so stupid sometimes? No wonder she preferred the company of horses. They were much less stupid in much less complex and annoying ways.
Angelique had always preferred the company of animals to humans. In part that was why she had ended up becoming a researcher; no one questioned why a researcher chose to spend her time around her animals. She'd thought Mason had shared that trait, and become attracted to him as she never thought she would. After a while, after a few years, though, she'd realized he was just unpleasant and generally petty. She left him alone, then, though it always nagged at her right up until she left the company, why was he so sullen and withdrawn?
Get a grip, she told herself. Can't heal the world. She repeated it to herself now. Can't heal the world. Can't save it from itself. All you can do is try to fix things, one person at a time. Angelique smiled slightly to herself. It had been that same philosophy which had driven her to start her second change program. Every young girl loved horses, and every young boy loved young girls. It was a way to boost their self esteem, get them off the drugs, get them to believe in their own power, in healthier power. Thinking about the program made her smile again.
She walked into her hotel room a great deal more cheerful than she had left the car, flipped on the lights and flopped onto the bed. There wasn't much on the television late at night, but she could stand watching old reruns of ER till she fell asleep. A blinking light told her she had a message.
"Angel, it's Adam. Don't hang up in the middle, I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone off like that. Not without … well. I shouldn't have gone off like that."
"No, you shouldn't," she grumbled at the machine, her head starting to ache again. The message continued.
"I sent you some files, to the business address on your web page. I didn't know how else to reach you. Read them if you want, then come talk to me. If you don't… well, I guess I understand." A pause. "See you later."
"Not if I see you first." She sighed. At least he'd left it up to her, and hadn't been so damn pushy about it this time. That, she thought, was what had been annoying about it. He'd been so pushy, so insistent that he was right. He hadn't used to be quite that… demanding.
Angelique frowned. Adam never did anything without a reason, and if he was acting this upset… She sat up, fired up her laptop, connected it to the hotel and downloaded her e-mail from her business account.
Her eyes grew wide as she read the files Adam had sent her. Angry, hot tears began to tickle her cheeks. She knew things had gotten out of hand, but this… this was beyond comprehension. This was beyond even the stupidity she normally ascribed to humanity. About three quarters of the way through she shut down the computer and went out to stand on the small porch, staring up at the moon. Or rather, lack of one: it was a new moon. A dark moon, they used to call it. It figured. Dark moon for dark tidings.
Adam wandered around atop the roof… or what passed for it… of the complex in which he and his
protégés lived and worked. It was two a.m. and he still couldn't sleep. The conversation… be fair,
he told himself, it was more of a confrontation than a conversation. And if he'd started out the
first conversation with "I'm worried about Mason" or "How've you been?" it probably would
have gone so much better. He sighed. Sometimes he forgot that, just because old friends had worked
for GenomeX as well, they hadn't gone through what he had towards the last few months at GenomeX.
Working there didn't automatically convey understanding of Eckhart's character. Not that he thought
Angelique mistook him. But she had no idea what was really going on.
It looked like she had done well for herself, at least. He only had the vaguest knowledge of horse breeding, dressage, and riding, but her horses parading in second and first place more often than not had to be good. And she was well off, financially, if set back in a remote corner of the state. But then, she'd always liked it best alone.
She hadn't married. He wasn't sure whether to think that was odd or figure that it was her solitudinous habits. Even Eckhart had married, though he couldn't think why or how he'd convinced some woman to marry him. He had three children, though you'd never think it to know the man.
Adam sighed, heading back down into the main complex. It wasn't doing him any good to dwell on things. He'd sent her the files, including the e-mail as a last little … he didn't know what. Nudge, maybe, or a plea for her attention. At least she could now make an informed decision. She'd read them, he knew. Her curiosity would get the better of her, and she could never stay mad for long when the object of her anger refused to continue the idiotic behavior.
He wondered how she would react to the e-mail. He wondered if she would believe it, or if he was in for another rant about how could he believe that about someone they worked with for so long. He wondered if she would just dismiss it entirely and not reply, if he would never hear from her again. It wasn't likely, but it was possible. Frankly, after fourteen years he was in no position to predict what she might do or not do.
He looked over at the main lounge where Brennan and Emma were arguing about something and making hot chocolate. Adam shook his head, smiling, as Emma socked Brennan playfully on the arm and the other man pretended to wince. Angelique would like them, he thought absently. They were very like the teenagers she dealt with, only with the problems of most people twice their age. She would like them, he decided abruptly, if he could only get her to join Mutant X…
Emma looked up at him suddenly. Brennan didn't notice, it was a brief glance, but it made Adam take a step back. It was an admonishing glance almost, and a cautioning one, as if she had caught him thinking or feeling things that could be dangerous for them all. It was also the last thing he'd expected, especially from her. Still, if she was worried about his views on Angelique…
Adam frowned. His children were growing up fast, nearly faster than he could keep up with. He'd have to talk with Emma later. This was turning out to be something none of them could deal with alone, and he didn't know why. It made him uneasy, and a little bit afraid. He walked back up, outside, feeling a sudden need for fresh air and stars. It wasn't a clear night, however. Nothing to see in the sky but dark clouds.
Adam shivered, hoping it wasn't a portent of things to come.
Ekhart stormed into the computer lab like an angry wind, scattering scientists and technicians in
his wake. He cleared the room with a furious shout, locked the door behind the last fleeing person.
He stared murderously at the blank wallscreen, as though it was responsible for his problems. His
hands shook with rage. Slowly, after several deep breaths, he punched in a string of command codes
and brought up the file now more than ten years out of date on Angelique Delacroix.
He forced himself to calm down as the computer took its time pulling up the files from the ancient archives. Video footage, audio recordings, photographs and pages and pages of text. He pulled it all up, downloaded it into a folder to go through later, and started opening things at random. After a while he sat down; this was going to be a long night if for no other reason than he was too charged up to go home.
Eckhart stared at the pictures, flipping through them slowly, reading the cold and technical captions underneath. He thought wryly that the captions didn't do her justice – she had been one of the most vibrant people he'd known. Still was, for that matter, he thought, and then he pushed the thought out of his mind. "Dr. Delacroix and subject X271." "Dr. Delacroix and subject X365, post treatment." "Dr. Delacroix, Dr. Eckhart, Dr…" That had been that hideous conference. He skipped by it, scowling.
Text files began to appear. Psychological profiles of her, some of them concerned and some of them glowing with pride. She was the ideal researcher, perfectly willing to put in 20 hour work-days in the labs and in the pens if it needed to happen. She was also reclusive, quiet when she wasn't working, withdrawn, and held some decidedly socially and politically inappropriate views. They couldn't decide whether she was a sociopath or a quiet saint. Probably the most confusing parts of both, he decided.
Her psych file was larger than his. His eyebrows arched with wry amusement and moderate startlement. He'd been called cold, machine-like, sociopathic often enough that he generally expected to be evaluated to death whenever the management or the board of directors took it into their heads to do so. He hadn't thought they'd been as concerned about her. Briefly he wondered if Adam had a similar file. Probably not. Adam was a boy scout, born and bred.
Another surprising thing: her file contained video as well as audio and photo. They weren't marked with any sort of descriptive file label, just the date and in some cases a letter where presumably the footage had been taken on the same day. The files looked like security videos. What the hell had everyone been up to? He pulled up a file at random, frowning, curious. And then he pulled up another. And another. Unable to believe what it was he was seeing, or perhaps just unwilling to accept it, he watched screen after screen of footage anywhere from five to fifteen minutes in length.
He watched as tiny Angelique walked in, microwaved a pot of something, and placed it firmly in front of tiny Ekhart, who was asleep with his head on the kitchen counter. He watched tiny Angelique run her fingers softly through tiny Ekhart's hair, staring. He'd never even suspected this footage existed, though he'd remembered her waking him up numerous times and nearly forcing him to eat. Looking at it now, he supposed this was why it was in her psych profile file. She'd never done anything like this where anyone could see, he was sure. He wondered what else she'd done when no one could see…
The intercom beeped. "Sir. Sir, security wishes to know how long you're going to be." Eckhart glanced at the clock. 5:45 am. He didn't even know how long he'd been sitting there, staring at the woman on the screen.
"I'm just leaving," he said after a short while, and he started to shut down the computers. "I won't be in until later today."
"I gathered that, sir," the front desk muttered in tones that Eckhart was sure he wasn't supposed to overhear. And he let it go; he was feeling too drained to deal with it tonight. Tomorrow. Everything could happen tomorrow. He had time, he could wait. But he was going to find out what it was all about. There had been too many revelations to leave it alone, and too many unanswered questions.