A hushed whisper of silk and cotton, and her opponent was no longer there, her sword slicing though nothing but air. Inwardly, she swore with a vehemence.
"Tell me." A little more insistant this time. No real sense of urgency, but she was familiar with the tone, and knew that if she didn't answer soon, she would likely wound up introduced to Mr. Ground.
"Don't give me that intimidation BS, Mu--"
She was quieted by her opponent's sudden reappearance only inches behind her. It was a silent entrance, even to well-trained ears. Were it not for the blade held hovering over her throat, she probably wouldn't have noticed.
"Tell me."
Glaring ahead at the empty room before her, she chanced a curt nod. "Fine, have it your way." The knife lowered, the presence backed away. As soon as she was sure that it was outside striking distance, she whirled around, sheathing her katana at her back. "Spoiled," she muttered darkly, earning herself a quicksilver smile from what were normally immobile features.
"Make yourself presentable, Katherine."
She responded at first with an exasperated sigh, more for show than anything. Brushing back the few dark curls that had escaped her ponytail, she settled her other hand on a hip. "I thought you wanted me to 'tell you'."
"There is hot water, clean linen and clothing more suited to the occasion in--"
"I know. Awfully presumptuous of you."
"I can afford to be patient now that you plan on sharing your information." And off she floated, leaving Katherine Pryde to the mercies of an unnervingly empty room. Watching her "friend's" departure, she found it impossible to not curse Ororo Munroe and her damned shady tactics. Goddess or not, the woman was insufferable.
She took her time in cleaning up, perfectly content to make the Windrider wait a bit. Her obsession with old fashioned rituals and courtesy could afford to be tested every so often, Katherine reasoned. In the world they lived in, the occasional test of "character" was mandatory in order to survive. Besides, it wasn't very often she was treated to hot water and clean clothes, and she had no qualms whatsoever over reveling in the luxury. It was undoubtedly one of the bigger perks of being in Munroe's favor, aside from the work occasionally supplied.
Making herself comfortable in the porcelain tub, she allowed water which almost boiled to wash away the sweat that covered layers of dirt and, in some cases, dried blood. Katherine would have happily stayed there for hours, pleased to experiment with varieties of soap that she'd only dreamed of, but one did not make the Windrider wait any longer than necessary. As it was, Katherine was one of the elite when it came to Munroe -- she could speak sharply to the elder woman without losing her tongue. That did not mean she enjoyed being put off, however.
With an all suffering sigh, Katherine climbed to her feet and stepped out of what was becoming tepid and filthy water. She consoled herself with the pile of cream colored towels which were folded atop an ebony stand. They were huge, made of Turkish cotton, and smelled vaguely of sandalwood. She considered taking one or two with her for the trip back, but the idea was shot down soon as it reared its head. Munroe wouldn't appreciate the petty theft, and more importantly, they would only succeed in getting ruined as soon as Katherine stepped back into the city.
When she had finished drying herself, she found a small pile of clothes and accompanying accessories sitting folded on a dark wicker chair. Pawing through them, Katherine made a face upon holding up a fine linen dress. She hated dresses; they inhibited her movement, twisted around her legs until she stumbled and could barely walk, nonetheless fight. Casting a forlorn look back at her own patched and generally worn attire, Katherine muttered a few epithets, tugging the dress over her head. The remaining objects Munroe had left for her were just appearance enhancers. She didn't much appreciate the not-so-subtle hint, but that was Munroe for you.
Ignoring them, Katherine just continued to revel in the feel of cool tile against her bare feet, and busied herself with twisting her hair into an upswept knot. It was one of her few vanities, though she had to admit that the loose curls irritated the hell out of her at moments.
Once assured that she was presentable -- if she weren't, Katherine held no doubts that she'd be sent back to try again -- she left to meet with Munroe and her collection of the empowered. Padding down the halls of the goddess' home, she gave herself a short moment to pretend that maybe one day she would be able to have something so extravagant. There were countless rituals held in the palace of the goddess. Everyone had their own, and Katherine's was the allowance to dream a little dream. She could be realistic later.
She was scant yards short of Munroe's throne room, as she inwardly called it, when the guards stopped her.
"Halt!"
"Who goes there?"
Katherine was hard pressed to resist smiling. She opted for a glare instead. "Get out of my way, Madrox."
The identical men looked at her, then one another. "Should we?"
"I dunno, she looks like bad news to me..."
"Everything looks like bad news to you."
"That's beside the point!"
Rolling her eyes heavenward, Katherine sighed. "Madrox..."
Their response was to simultaneously snap their attention back to her and ask "huh?"
"Move."
"Did I mention how lovely you look today, Kat?"
"You know she doesn't like being called Kat, you dope."
"Well, I figured it was better then Puss--"
"James."
Both Madroxes' eyes widened at the soft tone of Munroe's voice. It was holy hell for Katherine to keep a straight face, and she was forced to look away for fear of incurring the goddess's wrath herself.
"Let her pass, James. We have business to attend to, as do you. I expect you to have a chat with Victor about your behavior, and your overall performance on the job."
It was too much. Katherine finally gave in and grinned wolfishly at the other woman. She didn't need to say what she was thinking -- Katherine knew that Munroe was a closet pervert, though she'd die before admitting to it. Catching her associate's eye, Monroe raised one sculpted silver brow in acknowledgement. "Katherine, for shame."
"Look who's talking. You must've thought it too, considering I didn't say anything." Katherine cast a saccharine smile Munroe's way and sashayed past not only the Madroxes, but the goddess herself in a quiet whisper of linen. She'd probably pay for that later, but damned if it wasn't worth it.
Stepping into the throne room, Katherine was met by an array of familiar faces. The brightest was Braddock's, who smiled that manicured little British smile of hers. She knew what had happened outside, the damned pesky psi. Katherine also noted Frost, St. Croix, de la Rocha, DaCosta and Grey. She was a little surprised when Beatrice and Logan cast warm looks her way from the far end of the table. Apparently the nobility were desperate enough nowadays to lower themselves with the presence of various rebels and mercenaries. It pleased her, in a bitterly sardonic sort of way.
From behind, Munroe began to speak. "I am afraid that Miss Lee, Mister Espinosa and Miss Dane declined the invitations I sent out..." Katherine snorted, padding her way past one half of the table. She scowled when de la Rocha gave her an appreciative, if not oily leer, and resisted the urge to leap over the table in order to remove his head from his body.
"That's probably due to the fact that they want nothing to do with your business, 'Ro." Logan looked placidly at Munroe, whose eyes flashed silver-white for a moment before returning to their usual vivid blue.
"That is their loss."
Logan shrugged, leaving it at that, and Beatrice smiled tersely when Katherine sat nearby.
"So now you have us here, Munroe. We're representing half of the underground community, which I have to say is more than I expected to show, and I'm pretty sure that Lee, Espinosa and Dane aren't the only ones with better things to do. What do you want, aside from my report on what's going down with the other half of the country?"
Braddock maintained her smile, pleased with Katherine's bluntness. She'd always liked the girl, just as she'd always gotten on well enough with the animalistic Logan and the sharp-tongued Beatrice. It was Ororo who had the habit of making things difficult. The woman didn't seem to comprehend the idea of democracy, nonetheless diplomacy.
"Respect would be a fantastic place to start," Frost said, directing a thin lipped smile their way.
Beatrice readied to shoot back with what the woman could do with her respect, and exactly where she ought to shove it, but was cut off by a warning tone from Grey. "Adrienne," the redhead scowled, prompting a return expression. Katherine was pleasantly surprised when Frost shut up, properly cowed. It irritated her to no end that when the Inner Circle was gathered, she despised them all. She knew that Braddock and Grey were on her side, that Munroe wasn't quite so terrible away from the people she kept up appearances for. Her life was hell, Katherine readily admitted to that, but at least it was a simple one without masks. That was one luxury the Hellfire Club seemed without.
" 'What I want' is very simple. The Inner Circle has noted that business in the United Kingdom has slipped. New factions of rebels have sprung up, causing not only loss of profit, but of control. This is an unacceptable turn of developments." Seated just short of the head of the table, Munroe was the epitome of composure. There wasn't a wrinkle in her attire; her hair was perfectly coiffed, makeup unsmudged, and expression cool. Hands clasped demurely, the White Queen studied those across the room from her.
"Simply put," Braddock interjected, "we are aware of your own global connections, and feel that you three, Lee, Dane and Espinosa would be of great assistance in handling the latest factions."
At the Black Queen's elaboration, her King decided to follow suit. DaCosta's voice was as smooth as that of Munroe's, with the same air of superiority to it. "Naturally, you would receive compensation in return for your services."
"Naturally," Katherine muttered. Logan remained silent, motionless except for a sidelong glance when Beatrice sat forward.
"Define 'compensation'. And tell us why the almighty Hellfire Club can't take down a few more rebels. You've done a decent enough job with us." Bitter disgust permeated Beatrice's every word, lined her expression and stood out in her body language. It only intensified when she caught the White King studying her musingly.
"Don't even think it, de la Rocha," she growled. Beatrice was far too familiar with the young man's abilities. Previous experiences had led to a mutual hatred.
Once more, it was Grey who interjected. She seemed to radiate calm and reassurance. Though her words were for the White King and Beatrice, her gaze was locked with Logan's. "This is a request, not a command. I realize that for the most part, our respective 'clans' are anything but allies, but we're not declaring a war unto you. There's no need for any of us to be at one another's throats, not in a time like this. Please, just consider the Inner Circle's offer."
"You have two days in which to make your decisions. We cannot afford to waste any more time." The entire room's focus shifted then, leaving Grey's compassionate words to turn instead back towards Munroe. She had a knack for bringing whatever work Grey might have accomplished in regard to diplomacy back to square one. Katherine liked to think that it was the African woman's hidden mutant power.
"Two days? Well hell, Miz Generosity, I can give you my peoples' answers right now." Beatrice stood quickly, just as graceful as Munroe would ever be, though far less controlled. She glowered at the collected aristocrats, hands clenched into tight fists. Katherine had another difficult moment of restraint, this time in not grinning when the elder woman carefully enunciated her words to sound exactly like Munroe's.
"Our answer is 'fuck you very much.' Now, if you'll excuse me, some of us have real responsibilities to tend to." Brushing past her comrades, Beatrice swept past Stavros and Frost, pausing when de la Rocha slid his chair back. He stopped short when the albino woman bared her teeth. Logan decided to assist by growling out a warning, standing to follow her shortly thereafter.
When Beatrice had left, the others turned their attention back to Munroe and Braddock. The delicately built Englishwoman was watching the door Beatrice and Logan had used to escape with a distant thoughtfulness. Munroe, however, seemed fixated on Katherine, who was no longer fighting the winsome smile that continued to plague her. Her voice, when she spoke, was just as precise as theirs had been, but with the same hard edge Beatrice and Logan used.
"We'll contact you within the alloted time, ladies." She made no effort to acknowledge either of the present Kings, and ignored both de la Rocha's scowl and DaCosta's smirk. "If the compensation's right, Dane, Lee and Espinosa might also. Try to keep that in mind. And maybe I'll even hand over my report sometime."
Her piece said, Katherine made a silent exit. She didn't stop to chit chat with the sentries, as she would have ordinarily done, instead maintaining a heavy silence as she went to retrieve her belongings. There was nothing more frustrating than an audience with the Hellfire Club, she thought, bile rising in her throat. Gathered together, the Inner Circle was equally despicable, even Braddock, Grey and St. Croix, who tried their damnedest to help the outside world when the opportunity arose.
There had once been a point in her existence where Katherine would have never gone so far as to even contemplate working for them. It felt like a lifetime ago, back when she was young, naive, and full of morality. "Things change," Ramsey liked to say. Normally his attempts at optimism drove her crazy, but now, taking Doug's phrase in a more negative sense, she felt a sense of calm understanding. Innocence and morals could only last so long.
This time when Katherine entered the room Munroe had so graciously provided, she stripped and donned her normal attire in short minutes. Her business done now, she had no desire to spend anymore time than necessary in the Hellfire Club's stretch of domain. She just wanted to be home, away from this corrupt and unhappy extravagance. Her first inclination was to turn intangible and run right through several walls to the nearest exit, but she'd be damned if she'd allow any of the Inner Circle to see her so much as twitch.
Once she was satisfied that all her weapons were strapped down and in place, Katherine raised her head, threw back her shoulders and left through the main hall. All three telepaths of the Inner Circle were watching, she knew, relaying what they saw and felt to the rest of their comrades. Despite such an intrusion, Katherine felt as much ease as she could -- Braddock, Grey and St. Croix were all good people, and on her side, for the most part. They projected support to her, and dismay at how the meeting had gone. Silently, behind her own rickety but serviceable mental shields, Katherine wondered if the rest of the Inner Circle realized both how lucky and damned they were, with three such women in places of power.
Such thoughts were banished the moment she stepped outside, when another of the Club's lackies approached her in what felt to be the umpteenth time that day.
John Proudstar looked as though he wished to cast a cursory glance about him and search for any watching eyes. Instead, he kept his gaze riveted on Katherine. She hated speaking with the Proudstars; both brothers were more than a foot taller than her, and the huge height difference made her feel as if she were more difficult to respect. Or in John's case, fear.
"Dane didn't show..."
"No, she didn't."
John sighed, nodding uncomfortably. "If you see her..?"
"I'll consider asking her to tell James that you send your regards." There was no way she was going to make this easy on him. Deep down he was just as good a person as the Inner Circle's telepaths, she knew that, but anyone who worked with such a lot of domineering bastards received no sympathy from her.
John seemed to understand. He nodded once more, looking away in an obvious show of nerves. When Katherine continued to study him with a total lack of interest, the Apache man stepped backward and hurriedly lumbered off. From his vantage point several dozen yards away, Victor Creed bared his teeth in a feral grin, waving at her. Katherine waved back, not at all perturbed by the brilliant crimson stains of arterial blood on his hands, nor the corpse of one of the Madrox boys at his feet. Creed wasn't the most stable of people, but he made a good ally. It didn't hurt that he didn't just remind her of Logan, but a little of Rasputin. Illyana could be just as crazy sometimes.
Keeping her distance from the rest of the guards, one hand resting on the high powered plasma rifle Beatrice had had Forge build for her, the other on the To dagger at her belt, Katherine phased through the various gates and security devices created to keep the city far away from the Hellfire Club. It was a good fifteen minutes before she made it to the field which separated the two worlds from one another. She was hardly surprised when she saw Cheney waiting for her.
Waving enthusiastically, the former rock star dropped her makeshift cigarette to the ground and stubbed it out with the toe of one leather boot. Katherine felt her stomach lurch when she saw that they'd been painted a color which merrily danced along the dividing line of fuschia and hot pink. It constantly amazed her that Logan had so readily accepted Lila Cheney into not only his life, but onto his team. She was a walking risk.
"All ready to go? I already took Logan and Bea home. You really have to get your pet witch to start picking you up, Shadowkitty. Some of us have places to be."
Inwardly, Katherine contemplated over which would be more theraputic: screaming at the older woman, or phasing her head into the nearest object. She settled on neither, and waited for Lila to initiate the teleportation that would take her first to the far end of the galaxy, and then home.
Cheney decided to chatter the entire way, asking countless questions about the interior of the Hellfire Club's home, their attire, how the meeting had gone, whether or not she planned on going to Europe... After a certain point, Katherine tuned the punker woman out. When they arrived at Pier 4, she rattled off a quick thanks and leapt for escape. Behind her, there was a sudden flare of light, signaling that Lila Cheney had left the premises.
She was just beginning to input her security clearance codes for the building when the first of many doors flew open, causing Katherine to stumble backwards. Reflexively, she became intangible, and when Drake dashed out of what had once been Four Freedoms Plaza, she didn't feel the draft of chill air which accompanied him.
"Is she gone?!"
"Cheney?"
"Yes! Doug said the cameras picked her up when she brought you back from the Inquisition..." He groaned when it became apparent that Lila was long gone, and turned a mournful look on the Cheney Tours '91 t-shirt he held. "I needed to complete my autograph collection of mutant pop stars..!" Drake wailed. Apparently he was in full overdone drama mode.
Katherine tried to feel for him, but gave up after a second's worth of fruitless soul searching. "Where is everyone?"
Drake responded with a pout. "You've got no sympathy, Pryde."
"Nope."
Drake heaved a tortured sigh, waiting for her back to be turned before he made an array of faces. "Everyone's inside waiting for you. Like you even needed to ask," he tacked on the last in a quiet mutter, trailing along the dimly lit coridors of their home. Katherine fell silent, and as if on cue, so did Drake, who was sobering up to his normal self with astonishing speed. It wasn't very often that he let his more childish side come up, and the mood was always fleeting. There was very little to find humor in nowadays.
Passing through a roughly arched doorway, Katherine immediately picked up on the chattering of machinery at work. Doug was here, then. And from the low tones of bickering further on, so were Danielle and Rasputin. She sped up her pace, leaving Drake behind, and when she entered the main room of her team's base, the others glanced up, unspoken questions in their eyes.
Or everyone's but Rasputin's, at any rate.
"So?"
She would not roll her eyes. That was a juvenile action and would only further provoke the blonde girl sitting aside Danielle. There were moments when Katherine was sorry that the others had talked her into taking the Russian in. It weren't as if her brother couldn't take a little responsibility; Mikhail Rasputin was one of the most respected members of the Hellfire Club, just barely outside the Inner Circle. Comrade Mikey, as he was called sometimes by Drake, sometimes by his own sister, was an immoral bastard, but certainly wealthy enough to take care of an eighteen year-old girl.
"So, you were supposed to act as a ride. Cheney had to make the trip for me." The distaste on Katherine's face was more than obvious. She'd always been a bigger fan of the Dazzler's music, anyway. Or at least until she, too, had allied with the Hellfire Club.
Oblivious to Katherine's irritable thoughts, Rasputin tossed her hair and grinned lecherously. "I was busy giving someone else a ride," she quipped, patting Danielle's thigh. Sensing that now was not the time to either support or encourage her young lover, Danielle wisely remained silent, watching Katherine impassively.
It was Doug that broke the silence, Katherine busily giving in to temptation and glowering at Rasputin. "How badly did it go, Pryde?"
She allowed herself a quicksilver show of exhaustion and sighed, rubbing at the bridge of her nose. "Beatrice walked out on them."
The look on Drake's face was enough to cause the rest of them to avoid eye contact. He'd been involved with Beatrice on more than one occasion, and their on again/off again relationship was a source of constant grief for him. Katherine continued on hurriedly, unwilling to have to sit through an angst session. Nowadays, it seemed as though Danielle and Rasputin were the only happy ones.
"They want the entire alliance to beat down on Europe and see what's been happening out there. Logan took off after Beatrice. Lee, Espinosa and Dane didn't even show..." She shrugged helplessly, grabbing a free seat near Doug. "Normally I'd say that the Inner Circle could go rot, but they're hard up here. It could be to our advantage."
"You've got to be kidding, Pryde... Are you seriously thinking of working for these people? Think about what they did to the previous tenants of this place!" Doug was seething, and his reference to the Richards family did nothing to cool his temper. Katherine watched him as impassively as she could, intent on remaining calm. Too many people were snapping, and the timing couldn't be any worse.
"We got the boy out," she said quietly. "And he's safe now." That much was true, at least. Franklin Richards would never do much more than breathe on his own ever again, but Espinosa and his pet wolf Sinclair took exceptionally good care of him.
Doug said nothing in response, not verbally, although his eyes clearly communicated how angry he was.
"She's got a point, Doug." Katherine blinked rapidly in surprise. She hadn't expected support from the others, especially Drake, but it pleased her that perhaps this was a battle she might win before having to confront today's missing members of the alliance. "Franklin is alive, and you know that there was nothing any of us could do about the massacre here. We had our own problems, remember?" When Katherine looked back at the sandy-haired man, the one whose life she'd saved on more than one occasion, she smiled to herself. Maybe she'd preach his virtues to Beatrice later.
Looking back, it was obvious that Doug's anger was waning. Drake was hitting all his buttons like the observant little manipulator he could be. No wonder he was such an asset to the team, Katherine thought, then reminded herself to keep an eye on him just in case -- she herself did not much enjoy experiencing his manipulative nature firsthand.
"Anyway," he continued, "we could sap the Inner Circle for supplies, which you know we're in desperate need of, because all of us are. After that..." Drake shrugged, smiling faintly. "Who says we have to wipe out these new rebels? Maybe we could convince them to fall back some and join the cause, huh?"
"It would help us," Danielle piped up suddenly, drawing attention to herself in an unusual, unexpected action. "If not in the war against the humans, than at least in the one against the Hellfire Club. Perhaps even Yukio."
Katherine scowled at the mention of the Japanese warlord, who Logan had told her was once a ronin. A lone fighter with loyalties only to herself. A rebel, just like them. And then she'd conquered a country, only to expand her power until she was just short of a deity in her own home, and was well allied with the Inner Circle itself.
"Why can't Yukio handle the problem herself?" Doug muttered, although they all saw his typical logic. "Why call on the Inner Circle? Why ask for our help? It's suspicious."
"It's no secret that the Inner Circle has a tentative relationship with our alliance, Doug," Danielle said. "Yukio has to know that we use one another as we see fit. Perhaps..." She sighed. Katherine could see that she was running out of steam, ready to withdraw and become reclusive again.
"Maybe these factions in the UK pack more of a punch than we think they do," Katherine continued for her teammate, easily understanding what the Cheyenne woman was trying to convey. "Yukio herself wouldn't come to us for help and get her hands dirty, and of course the Inner Circle wouldn't directly come to her aid. But asking us? A bunch of filthy rebels whose lives are all about fighting? Doesn't that make sense?"
"You don't know any of that for sure, Pryde. It's all assumption on our part."
She wanted to throttle Doug, but fought the temptation. When he temporarily ran out of optimism he was a bitch to live with, but he was eternally useful to them, too. "So I'll ask the others. I'll go back to the Inner Circle, if I have to. Hell, I have to anyway, so there isn't much of a loss. This is something that we could capitalize on, Doug, can't you realize that?"
"We'll see," he said morosely before turning back to his computers. Illyana rolled her eyes and made dramatic noises.
"Bored now!" the teen declared, rising from her perch on a makeshift bench and taking Danielle's hand. "We're going to find better things to do. Call us when dinner's ready." Danielle shot the others an apologetic look and was quickly dragged from the room by the slight blonde. A crushing silence fell over Katherine and Drake, who met gazes.
Katherine rubbed the bridge of her nose again, her own gaze fluttering shut. "Come on," she muttered, "let's go track the others down and get this over with already."
"Can we get a move on yet?" Lila Cheney pleaded, unable to repress a violent shudder. Logan had insisted that they camp right on the outskirts of the New York wastelands. She remembered what Manhattan had looked like, how it once gleamed with neon lights, exciting and wild. There was no comparision to its current incarnation, a vast field of destruction, rusting chrome and crumbling buildings. Just looking at it gave her the willies, but settling down for a few days?
"Nuh-uh. Logan, baby, please! I can't stand it here any longer!"
He glanced up from the rations he had been cooking when he sensed that she was on the verge of tears. A quick flare of the nostrils confirmed that these ones weren't false -- Lila had worked herself up into a state of real fear, an act he'd only seen a few times since rescuing her from Yukio's reach in London. Normally her control, despite the act she put on, was absolute. The strain on all of them was getting worse, he thought, and stood to comfort the one person he knew could escape this strife with no trouble whatsoever.
"Hush, darlin'," Logan murmured, holding the former rock star close. He started to wonder why Lila didn't just leave, take off for the stars like she dreamed of doing, and abruptly cut his own thoughts off. He already knew why, and that was the problem. She wouldn't leave him, not when she'd long ago convinced herself that she loved him. As if life could get any more complicated.
"We left Gail and Joey behind," she sobbed, eyes shut tight against the sight of the wastelands. It was a futile attempt to remind him of their responsibilities in Wyoming, of the neverending battle that went on in their claimed territory, their home.
Logan again thought that Lila didn't belong on this world. Not in Wyoming, not with him, not without millions of people adoring her every move.
"Cassidy's there watchin' 'em," he reminded her, and stroked her hair more out of reflex than anything. "They'll be safe."
Safer than us, he didn't say.
"But--"
"There ain't any gettin' out of this, Lila, not 'til I talk with the kids."
The kids. His kids, was how he knew Lila had always interpreted it, and although he'd never said anything, she was right. He'd found both Beatrice and Katherine when they were little more than pups. Their will to survive was undeniable, the fire in their eyes all but infernos. He'd taught them both, and the girls -- women now, he supposed, but old habits died hard -- were more his children than the actual ones he knew he'd helped begot.
Sighing in resignation, Lila clung to him, head buried against his shoulder as her tears tapered off to the occasional sniffle. There was no arguing when Logan had that note of finality in his voice; she wasn't as stupid as she appeared to be, after all.
They stayed that way for some time, until Lila could smell that night's dinner starting to char, and hurriedly let her lover go that he might try and salvage it. Food was getting harder and harder to come by, and though she was upset and still wanting comfort, she was also hungry. While Logan tended to dinner, she sat several yards away, melancholy and frustrated. She didn't hear the quiet crunch of footsteps across the rubble, and when Pryde and Drake appeared across the campfire Logan had started several hours earlier, she was frightened enough to leap to her feet. The squeal of surprise that rose up in her throat was, however, thankfully surpressed.
"Lila." Drake smiled in greeting, whereas Katherine just nodded in her general vicinity and approached Logan.
Forcing herself to sit as nonchalantly as possible, she smiled back. "Hi, Bobby."
"Rob," he corrected gently, and when he did, Lila could clearly see her error. Bobby was a childish nickname, a boy's title. Whatever boy might have been left in Robert Drake was either badly wounded, or very well hidden.
Lila smiled apologetically, and patted a spot nearby. "Sorry about that. Come to gossip with me?"
On the other side of the fire, Logan and Katherine watched Drake sit nearby Lila. They could both tell that he wasn't too interested in the developing conversation, but kept it going anyway for the sake of the visibly upset woman. After several minutes of watching Logan working to save his rations, Katherine sighed and sat cross-legged on the ground, making herself as comfortable as possible, considering the environment.
"Beatrice is on her way. I'm going to send word to the others tomorrow so we can talk this out."
"But?" Logan asked calmly, not bothering to look up at his protege.
Katherine hesitated for only a moment. There was no skirting issues with him. "But no matter what everyone else decides, I think I'm going to go through with this."
Logan nodded. "What do your people say?"
"We're mostly in favor for it. Ramsey's the only one who needs to be convinced, and Rasputin doesn't care one way or another. As always," she muttered, drawing her legs up to her chest and watching the fire. Behind her, the sun was finishing its slow descent on the horizon.
"I realize that Yukio and the Inner Circle are probably just hoping that we'll kill each other off for them, no muss, no fuss... And I don't really want to start anything with Yukio one way or the other, but if there's any chance of building on to our alliance... The rest of the world's been lost to us for too long, Logan."
He took the dented metal container off the flames before sitting back to light up the cigar he'd been chewing on for several hours. Next to him, Katherine continued to stare at the setting sun, ignoring his study of her. She was just as worn as any of them, Logan could see. The strain of leadership was progressively building.
"Listen, Punkin," he started quietly, only to cut himself off when the young woman abruptly dropped her head, curling tendrils of hair falling in her face. It was the nickname, the reminder of years long gone when she had still been a child. An innocent. Happy.
As Katherine quickly recovered her composure (though not quick enough, he thought, once more scenting the salt of unshed tears), Logan gave her a moment of privacy when he brought Lila that night's meager supper. His lover smiled adoringly up at him, but Logan had turned to head back towards Katherine before he could notice.
Drake didn't miss any of it. Not the smile, nor the way Lila's face fell before she could help herself. He made a mental notation, as he did with everything he noticed, and continued talking to distract her. Drake knew what it was like to be in a one-sided relationship.
Across the campfire, Logan settled back down next to one of his favorite students, steely gaze riveted on her strong profile. "Like I was sayin', kid. If you're sure about what you're doing, then my people'll be happy to back you up. I can already tell you that Cassidy and the twins'll be gung ho about this. Lila's the only person that's gonna complain."
"What about you?" she asked without looking at him.
"I want all this mess to end. Anything it takes, kid, remember?"
Katherine nodded, and picked at her cuticles without really noticing she was doing so. "You'll convince Lila? If we're going to get anywhere without being blown out of the sky by humes, we'll need teleporters. And more than just Rasputin and Sefton, if we can even convince Dane and her team in the first place..."
"The only person on Dane's side that'll start complainin' is Summers, kid, and he's a pushover if you know which buttons to press," Logan pointed out, nostrils flaring as he sucked in smoke from the stogie he held. "We'll be fine. The only convincin' you need to worry about is with Lee and Espinosa, and that's only 'cause of the Inner Circle."
He looked on in amusement when Katherine's head swiveled quickly to look at him. She was scowling, and Logan recognized the wary glint to her eyes. "Wait a minute here, mister!" she said, reverting back to the slang of her teen years and not even realizing it. "Since when am I in charge of this operation?"
"I'm figurin' since the moment you stayed behind with the Inner Circle after Beatrice and I took off."
"Besides," a throaty, but unarguably feminine voice said from behind them. "I sure as hell don't want the job."
Katherine and Logan looked behind them to see Beatrice, one of her people -- it looked like Alex Summers -- standing behind her and keeping to the shadows. The albino woman's friendly grin faded when she glanced across the fire, only to spot Lila and Drake, the latter of which who stared at her with a fixed expression. The tension between the two was palpable.
Lila looked as if television had returned to them, so enraptured was the woman with this real life soap opera.
When Logan gave Katherine a look, she realized that he really was laying all the responsibility on her; it was her job this time to break up Drake and Beatrice before they got started.
"So you're gonna stick it with me?" she protested loudly, earning herself a look of mild interest from the younger Summers. "What did I do to get you two so pissed off?"
The others finally turned to look at her, and though the parted lovers looked irritated -- as if she'd interrupted something important between them, which she severely doubted -- the others only seemed curious. Katherine felt a sudden need to go to sleep and not wake up. Then she thought of one of Lee's people, and how Tabitha Smith had done just the same thing. Any desire for extended rest soon left Katherine's mind.
"Look," she went on once the others were watching. "I'm responsible for my people. Not yours, not anyone else's. This is way too big for me."
"We don't have anyone else who's friends with a member of the Inner Circle, Pryde. That's a valuable--"
"So Munroe thinks I'm her best rebel friend! What about Logan and Grey, Bea?" Katherine interrupted. She instantly regretted it when she noticed how her mentor turned away, and couldn't bring herself to look in Lila's direction. Much like Beatrice and Drake, the longtime flirtation between Logan and the Black Bishop was legendary.
Fuck, she thought.
And thus began the argument for heading to England.
Doug glanced up, twisting in his seat to look behind him when he heard the heavy door to his sanctuary slam open. Someone wasn't happy, that was for damned sure. The knowledge made his own mood brighten a little; misery loved company, and Doug was undeniably miserable.
The sudden chill that wound its way toward him confirmed that it had been Rob who'd come in, and after a moment, Doug spotted him standing in the shadows of the dimly-lit room.
"We're going," he said, and Doug noticed that the cold had seeped into Rob's voice. So something really heavy must have gone down...
" 'We'?" the blond responded, swiveling his chair around. He absolutely didn't support this. Working with the Inner Circle was heinous enough, but adding Yukio to the mix was like asking for death, and over the years, Doug had found that he was rather partial to living.
"We," Rob confirmed. He knew how Doug thought, but right now didn't care how he received the news one way or the other. "The head honchos made their decisions. If you want a say in things, I wouldn't suggest going near her to debate until she's had some time to cool down."
That said, Rob turned and left before Doug could even open his mouth. Under ordinary circumstances, he would have at least stayed to give Doug a general idea of what had happened.
"Jesus," he muttered. "It really was heavy."
While Drake gave Doug their sentence, Katherine had long ago phased into the Plaza, and since then had given a blatant disregard for walls and doors. The five of them -- it had been Alex Summers with Beatrice, and as usual, he didn't say much -- had argued over what to do about the England factions for a solid three hours. Logan had been forced to make Lila comply, and when Katherine had left the camp with Drake, the teleporter was still sobbing.
Not seeming to care about what she wanted, Logan and Beatrice had left her in charge. Needless to say, Katherine was not in the best of moods.
Stalking down one of the dilapidated hallways, she ignored the sounds of ragged breathing and low moans that came from Danielle's room -- the room Rasputin had commandeered -- and phased through the locked door. Neither of the two women noticed, and Katherine wasn't interested in waiting for them.
Regaining her tangibility for a moment, she grabbed Rasputin's hair, then phased the young woman away from Danielle. Illyana screeched in shocked dismay, perhaps even rage, but when she pulled away from Katherine and whirled to face her, any curses stopped dead on her lips.
"Get dressed," she instructed, paying no attention to Danielle as she sat up. "We're going to visit Dane, Lee and Espinosa."
It was very clear that what Katherine was really saying was "don't argue with me unless you'd prefer getting a personal view of what the insides of these walls look like."
Rasputin did not argue.