Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men, alright?! Sheesh.
A/N: OMG. Three. Pages. Thanks so much for all the reviews!! I'd probably have floundered in this fic the way I have many others without them! This is one of my favorite BTW, in case anyone was wondering (probably not . . .), my fav line in my story is "And Scott Summers turned his back on Jean Grey, leaving only the sound of the door closing behind him." I just detest evoJean, and don't like any of her comic/tv/movie selves. Scott's only a little better, but better nonetheless!
A/NII: I'm also hoping everyone was as freaked-out by Day of Reckoning as I was. They introduced Gambit, Colossus and Pyro, never said their names, and they CAN'T DRAW GAMBIT!! His face is ANGULAR, dammit, angular! And where was his great long hair? Personally, I LIKE the name fic authors have been giving him. Bad Hair Brad. It fits. Although I did like the two scenes that acknowledged comic couples Kitty/Piotr and Remy/Rogue. Them being evil is going to seriously screw up their love lives! Dedication: Neva, for her astounding "Keep an Open Mind", and it's new sequel "Peace of Mind"
Onward, Ho!
Chapter XII
Amanda's mind was racing as the two larger guys maneuvered her into Duncan's car. Graydon reminded her of Mordred; although not deformed as the legendary Mordred, Graydon had the same smooth, conniving temperament, and the same intelligence. The significantly slower football player was silent most of the ride, aside from reassuring toothpaste-commercial smiles. Graydon acted as though she hadn't protested to getting in the car; as if this whole thing was in fact her idea. Cramped in the back seat, she irritably flicked a strand of dark brown hair over her shoulder. Kurt had better be following me, she thought, glancing back to see if she could catch a glimpse of anything blue trailing her, following the idea of 'better the devil you know than the devil you don't know'.
Duncan pulled into a driveway just as Amanda was getting the idea that they were nearer the Institute. The garage opened, and Amanda's jaw dropped at the amount of space in the garage. It looked like a simple two-car garage, but it really must have taken up a good deal of the first floor of the house. Ten different cars were parked in there, with space to spare. There was also evidence strewn about of people who'd walked in, such as shoes left outside the door, and half a dozen bikes leaning against a wall. "Where -- where are we? Wasn't this someone's house?"
Duncan grinned. "It sure looks that way, doesn't it?"
Graydon favored him with a look that clearly said you don't know the half of it. "This is the main headquarters of the Interior Department of the Friends of Humanity. You did say you were looking to move up in this organization, right?"
The chocolate-skinned girl looked up at Graydon uncertainly. "Um . . . Sure," she agreed cautiously, stalling for time. Come on, guys, what's taking you so long? Did Scott get lost or something!?
"Well then, follow me," Graydon opened the car door for her (which reminded Amanda of Kurt and his unending gallantry), and proceeded to lead her into the pseudo-house, Duncan a step behind and to the left.
When the senior opened the door that lead to the rest of the house, Amanda prepared herself for something much more interesting than what she saw. There was carpet. Several large, fluffy couches, a tv, a large shelf of movies, and walls painted that strange shade of off white that's in every hotel room in the world.
In other, slightly simpler words, it was a regular house.
Amanda giggled shyly. "After the impressive garage, I was expecting something more."
"You were?" Graydon's eyebrows rose, and he satisfied himself with a slightly knowing grin. "Well . . ." he walked down the hallway, Duncan and Amanda behind him, and stood in front of a simple wooden door, which he then opened to reveal an elevator door. Gesturing in, he preceded Amanda and Duncan. Pushing a seemingly random one of the unlabeled buttons, the three waited only a moment before the quick descent of the elevator halted. As the doors opened, Graydon grinned at the astonished expression on Amanda's face. "We live but to serve."
*
Kurt muttered a dozen curses in a mix of German, English, Romani and half-forgotten Latin as he waited for Duncan to turn the car off. Apparently, Duncan was having trouble finding parking.
When the car finally stopped rumbling, Nightcrawler waited until he heard Graydon, Amanda and Duncan get out and walk away, into -- wherever they were. He hadn't been able to see anything from his spot in the trunk, he had been too busy trying to keep the lid from closing and locking him in. And wishing this was Amanda's Oldsmobile -- it had a trunk big enough to fit Beast into!
When he was finally sure the three were gone, he carefully un-bungied the trunk and removed the golf club, holding the lid down with his tail. Lifting his tail slowly, he watched the widening gap between trunk and lid.
Leaping out when he was sure he'd fit through, Nightcrawler scurried under the car and slammed the trunk shut with his tail. The loud, metallic clang echoed through what he now realized was a large garage.
Then the footsteps started.
Verdammt . . . Nightcrawler shut his eyes, hoping desperately that that his indigo fur had melded his shape with the shadows.
A pair of distinctly feminine black boots paused next to the car. Nightcrawler held his breathing, willing her to move away.
No such luck. The boots bent, and the young mutant prepared for a blind 'port.
Then a pair of glowing yellow eyes appeared, eyes that his own mimicked to a 'T'.
"Mother," he spat the title at Mystique like an insult. "What are you doing here?"
He slid out from under the car, noting absently that it was a bright red 2000 Camero, and stood before the woman who birthed him with an enigmatic expression written across his already enigmatic face. A very altered Mystique stared calmly back, her blood-red hair swept behind her head and a form-fitting black two-piece complementing her blue skin, a shade lighter than his fur. Slit pupils narrowed at his question.
"I'd have thought that the first thing out of your mouth would be 'where are we', but Xavier apparently has you trained that enough that where you are really doesn't matter. And as to what I'm doing here, I followed you."
"You -- what? Why?" he didn't even question how. Mystique could be anyone she wanted; the ability tended to result in being able to get anywhere.
The blue woman rolled her eyes. "Because I have been tailing this 'Amanda' since I discovered she was both human and in on our little secret. I noticed that none of you were watching to make certain she wasn't some kind of enemy plant," she scoffed.
Kurt scowled. "Jean was. Which still doesn't lend itself to why we're having this conversation, instead of you letting me go in there to get her out."
"If you take one step in the place, you will be blown to bits. Not even with your image inducer could you sneak into that place."
"And how else do you propose I get in?"
Mystique smiled a conniving smile, one that made Kurt want to back up a step. "Evil human masterminds never learn. You can't make the ventilation systems big enough for people to fit in. I can't, not unless I shift into something smaller and therefore heavier than myself, which would make me clumsy and far more likely to be caught. You, however, my dear slim boy . . ."
"How do you know this?!" Nightcrawler demanded, incredulous.
Mystique shrugged. "I shifted into Graydon and photocopied the blueprints for the ventilation, electrical, and piping systems."
He shook his head as she produced the aforementioned blueprints from a pocket and handed them to him. Then something occurred to him. "How do you know Graydon?"
She stalled. "I --"
"You'll need a better answer than that."
"Why are you even asking me?! I'm helping you, aren't I?" she demanded.
Folding his arms in a gesture of defiance, Nightcrawler answered. "Because he's Sabretooth's son."
"I know. How could I not?" Mystique paused, then continued as if she'd rather not be having this conversation. "You're not an only child, Kurt. The only legitimate child, yes, but you're not an only child."
Nightcrawler thought about this for a moment.
"Mother!" he shrieked. "Graydon -- you and Sabretooth -- oh, I do not need to think about that!!"
The blue woman smirked a little at her sons reaction, and made to leave.
"Wait!" Nightcrawler implored. "Why are you helping me?"
"As much as I don't like humans, the one in there is pro-mutant and put her life on the line for you, Rogue, and mutants in general. Besides, as long as you get her out before they kill her, the X-Calvery will arrive and terminate this little operation, ensuring the safety of the Brotherhood and myself," she flashed a satisfied grin. "Call it enlightened self-interest."
With that, she shifted into Graydon and was gone.
*
She made this sound soooo much easier than it really is, Nightcrawler thought to himself as he squirmed through yet another small duct. His fur muffled the sound he made traveling through the vents, but he still felt he was making too much noise. Pausing at an intersection, Nightcrawler pulled the blueprints up in front of him, wincing as they made a rasping sound against the metal.
Left, right, then -- he nearly groaned aloud. To get into the bowels of the place he was going to have to go straight down for nearly three stories. Not that I couldn't, he amended to himself as he set off again. I just don't particularly want to.
Glowing yellow eyes stared down into the darkness that loomed up from the air shaft, and out of curiosity Kurt put his hand in front of him. Even with his increased night vision, he couldn't see it. This is going to be difficult . . .
Bracing his two-fingered hands against the far side, Nightcrawler curled his body into a rather pretzel-esque shape, thanking God that he hadn't dropped doing the exercises the contortionists had set him, as well as for his unique flexibility. With his hands firmly stuck to the side, he slowly stretched out and lowed first his legs, then the rest of him down into the pitch black shaft. Using his tail to 'see' below him, Nightcrawler painstakingly made his way silently down the duct.
He arrived breathless, arms shaking slightly from exertion. Falling into a crouch with the shaft over his head, Nightcrawler took a quick respite.
". . . do you mean? I -- I'm afraid I don't understand . . ." Kurt's head darted up as pointed ears located where Amanda's voice was coming from. Scurrying over to a vent, still careful not to make any noise, Kurt watched as Amanda came into view from around a corner. "Graydon, what's going on?!"
Unfortunately, the vent was at the top of a staircase, and Kurt was unable to follow them as their voices faded away. Nightcrawler slowly sat back to plan his next move. He couldn't count on help from the X-Men; the others had no idea where he was. And Graydon was obviously about to make his grab for Amanda. Alright, Nightcrawler. Think logically about this. They obviously have to hold her somewhere, and they have to get air in the room somehow, so go over the plans and locate the places where FOH might keep a hostage.
His eyes bugged out when he realized that they had at least three places to keep a hostage, on each of four sublevels. Twelve places to check. So. Plan: shadow Amanda as best as I can, and when I loose her search the rooms in order of whichever is closest to where I last saw her.
With his idea firmly in mind, Nightcrawler made his way deeper into the ducts, trying to locate how to get down to the floor Graydon had led Amanda to.
