author: Lucinda
story 5 in Crimson Arc
rating: pg 13.
main character: Betsy
disclaimer: Nobody from Marvel is mine.
distribution: please ask first.
Having informed Hank that Warren would need some medical attention, Betsy left the medlab. It was so sterile and lifeless in there, not to mention uncomfortably bright. She really wasn't certain why Warren had collapsed, but his pulse and breathing had been steady, so he should be just fine, especially since they had such high quality medical facilities here.
Yes, Warren would be just fine. She ignored the little voice inside of her that tried to worry over her lover. He had to recover; there was no other possibility acceptable. She also ignored the little voice that was trying to determine how things had gone from an intense and passionate interlude to Warren shuddering, and collapsing into unconsciousness. Had she actually broke him? A decidedly wicked smile curved over her lips, and she contemplated how to greet his return to health, again ignoring the small part that was concerned for his safety, that was afraid that she had somehow caused Warrens collapse.
She looked at her closet, considering the various things inside. Darker colors, silks and linens, light weight fabrics in elegant and sometimes daring cuts. But none of it seemed quite what she was looking for.
There was only one solution to that. She would have to go shopping. That same little corner was trying to catch her notice, whispering in a scream that after your lover collapses, you don't just go off shopping. That corner, so concerned with the feelings and health of others felt as if it were far away...
Betsy headed towards her door, stepping into the shadow and out into the garage, full of dark shadows and sleek cars, as well as a couple motorcycles. Remy's was missing, telling her that the Cajun had gone away somewhere. Pity, he seemed to be such an interesting morsel... err it would be interesting to have his opinions on what would look good on her. But he'd been avoiding her lately, as if he didn't want to talk to her for some reason.
Shrugging away the concern, she sat down in her car, a sleek jaguar in dark blue. The motor purred to life, and she left he mansion, intending to have a day away from people looking at her funny, a day around people that had no idea that she had ever met Sabertooth, let alone been nearly killed by him on several occasions. She was better now, why were they all still acting so worried? Her wounds were healed, not even a scar remained, and she felt powerful, strong.
Parking her car in the shopping center's parking tower, she slowly stalked her way into the buildings, unaware that her movements were almost predatory, only noticing the confidence that she was feeling. She had arrived, and she would shop. Victoria's Secret, that interesting perfume place, and then, she would look for the right clothing. She would know it when she saw it, of that she was certain. It would be something sleek, something that would appeal, and something that would look dangerous. Maybe leather...
She found the store, devoted to all sorts of leather apparel, and wandered inside. Leather, some turned into soft suede, as supple and pleasant to touch as velvet. There was also leather, some that gleamed as if coated with water, others softer, a more dull finish, but more supple. Leather pants, leather skirts, leather jackets and coats and belts and vests and halters and oh, the list went on and on. Leather in all sorts of colors, from natural browns and tans to greys and blacks, blues, green, reds... She had found what she was looking for.
Bags of purchases later, she deposited them neatly into the trunk of her car, and went back to look for a few shoes and boots that would go with her new outfits. After all, sometimes the proper accessories could make or break an outfit. So, back for shoes, and possibly a few things for her hair. She wasn't certain why she hadn't treated herself to this sort of trip before. It felt satisfying to spend her money on herself, and she wondered when she'd gotten out of the habit. Hadn't she indulged in shopping trips quite often back in Britain?
And there were so many people, all going about their days, the feeling of their minds this warm buzzing feeling, like inhaling the scents of a candy factory. She could hear the mental buzz and murmur of thoughts, concerns about how people looked, worries about debts and boyfriends/husbands/lovers. Petty worries about school work or peers or jobs and office rivals filled their minds. It was like sliding through candy, all the petty and amusing thoughts. She was feeling almost giddy from it all, smiling as she meandered through shops.
"What's a lovely lady like yourself doing here all alone?"
She glanced over, trying to determine what sort of man had spoken, beyond a confident tenor voice. He was fairly attractive, a bout six foot, dark blond hair and hazel eyes. He had this air of confidence about him, and was dressed quite well. She had never met him before in her life.
"Well, I was shopping. That is the traditional thing to do in a mall." She was trying to figure out what his plan was. Why was he talking to her, what did he want? Had he been sent by one of the X-Men's many enemies? Perhaps she'd better learn a bit more...
Smiling at her, his next words were almost no surprise. "Maybe you shouldn't be out alone. If you'd like, there's this great little Italian place I know..."
She almost laughed. His efforts were so obvious, so predictable. First the compliment, then the offer of company and dinner somewhere... If this was a set up by one of their enemies, she almost felt like telling this man's manipulator to pick someone more discrete. But she was feeling hungry, and she might as well try to learn who would be trying to get a link into the X-Men this time.
"Italian? I think I can manage an Italian dinner. Did you drive here? I can follow you in my car." She forced her expression into a smile, hoping that it looked as if she found the man interesting, or at least not as hopelessly predictable as he truly seemed to be.
So, she found herself having dinner with Kevin. He kept flirting with her, almost reminding her of Remy in some ways. Very aware of his good looks, certain of his charm, and flirting shamelessly. But unlike Remy, there was something behind Kevin's flirting, some sort of purpose that she could feel. She didn't know what it was, that would require probing his mind, and he would probably notice if she did that. Pity, it was about the only thing interesting about him.
Finally, the dinner concluded, and Kevin insisted on paying the bill. As they were walking out to the parking lot, he suddenly grabbed her arms, and pushed her up against a car, his lips demandingly crushing hers. His mind was full of violent, lustful thoughts. Betsy saw the truth. That he intended to have her tonight, to spend himself into her body, regardless of her will.
This realization angered her, a dark rage burning inside of her. Her eyes glowed red, and the rest of her body momentarily flickered dark as shadow, and she licked at his lips, tasting not his flesh, but the essence of his mind, his inner being. She touched that essence, and she drank it down, pulling until he collapsed onto the ground, weak gasping noises coming from him, almost reminiscent of a fish flopping on the shore.
"Let that be a lesson to you. You can't always have things your way."
She walked away from him, attempting to remember where she had left her car. She felt all warm inside, almost tingly and giddy. She wasn't hungry anymore, and she felt good. She had far to much energy now to simply go home, there had to be something that she could do. Where was that club that Remy had mentioned last month? The one with great music and dancing?
There was nothing keeping her here anymore. Why not go have a bit of fun?
End Crimson Hunger.
story 5 in Crimson Arc
rating: pg 13.
main character: Betsy
disclaimer: Nobody from Marvel is mine.
distribution: please ask first.
Having informed Hank that Warren would need some medical attention, Betsy left the medlab. It was so sterile and lifeless in there, not to mention uncomfortably bright. She really wasn't certain why Warren had collapsed, but his pulse and breathing had been steady, so he should be just fine, especially since they had such high quality medical facilities here.
Yes, Warren would be just fine. She ignored the little voice inside of her that tried to worry over her lover. He had to recover; there was no other possibility acceptable. She also ignored the little voice that was trying to determine how things had gone from an intense and passionate interlude to Warren shuddering, and collapsing into unconsciousness. Had she actually broke him? A decidedly wicked smile curved over her lips, and she contemplated how to greet his return to health, again ignoring the small part that was concerned for his safety, that was afraid that she had somehow caused Warrens collapse.
She looked at her closet, considering the various things inside. Darker colors, silks and linens, light weight fabrics in elegant and sometimes daring cuts. But none of it seemed quite what she was looking for.
There was only one solution to that. She would have to go shopping. That same little corner was trying to catch her notice, whispering in a scream that after your lover collapses, you don't just go off shopping. That corner, so concerned with the feelings and health of others felt as if it were far away...
Betsy headed towards her door, stepping into the shadow and out into the garage, full of dark shadows and sleek cars, as well as a couple motorcycles. Remy's was missing, telling her that the Cajun had gone away somewhere. Pity, he seemed to be such an interesting morsel... err it would be interesting to have his opinions on what would look good on her. But he'd been avoiding her lately, as if he didn't want to talk to her for some reason.
Shrugging away the concern, she sat down in her car, a sleek jaguar in dark blue. The motor purred to life, and she left he mansion, intending to have a day away from people looking at her funny, a day around people that had no idea that she had ever met Sabertooth, let alone been nearly killed by him on several occasions. She was better now, why were they all still acting so worried? Her wounds were healed, not even a scar remained, and she felt powerful, strong.
Parking her car in the shopping center's parking tower, she slowly stalked her way into the buildings, unaware that her movements were almost predatory, only noticing the confidence that she was feeling. She had arrived, and she would shop. Victoria's Secret, that interesting perfume place, and then, she would look for the right clothing. She would know it when she saw it, of that she was certain. It would be something sleek, something that would appeal, and something that would look dangerous. Maybe leather...
She found the store, devoted to all sorts of leather apparel, and wandered inside. Leather, some turned into soft suede, as supple and pleasant to touch as velvet. There was also leather, some that gleamed as if coated with water, others softer, a more dull finish, but more supple. Leather pants, leather skirts, leather jackets and coats and belts and vests and halters and oh, the list went on and on. Leather in all sorts of colors, from natural browns and tans to greys and blacks, blues, green, reds... She had found what she was looking for.
Bags of purchases later, she deposited them neatly into the trunk of her car, and went back to look for a few shoes and boots that would go with her new outfits. After all, sometimes the proper accessories could make or break an outfit. So, back for shoes, and possibly a few things for her hair. She wasn't certain why she hadn't treated herself to this sort of trip before. It felt satisfying to spend her money on herself, and she wondered when she'd gotten out of the habit. Hadn't she indulged in shopping trips quite often back in Britain?
And there were so many people, all going about their days, the feeling of their minds this warm buzzing feeling, like inhaling the scents of a candy factory. She could hear the mental buzz and murmur of thoughts, concerns about how people looked, worries about debts and boyfriends/husbands/lovers. Petty worries about school work or peers or jobs and office rivals filled their minds. It was like sliding through candy, all the petty and amusing thoughts. She was feeling almost giddy from it all, smiling as she meandered through shops.
"What's a lovely lady like yourself doing here all alone?"
She glanced over, trying to determine what sort of man had spoken, beyond a confident tenor voice. He was fairly attractive, a bout six foot, dark blond hair and hazel eyes. He had this air of confidence about him, and was dressed quite well. She had never met him before in her life.
"Well, I was shopping. That is the traditional thing to do in a mall." She was trying to figure out what his plan was. Why was he talking to her, what did he want? Had he been sent by one of the X-Men's many enemies? Perhaps she'd better learn a bit more...
Smiling at her, his next words were almost no surprise. "Maybe you shouldn't be out alone. If you'd like, there's this great little Italian place I know..."
She almost laughed. His efforts were so obvious, so predictable. First the compliment, then the offer of company and dinner somewhere... If this was a set up by one of their enemies, she almost felt like telling this man's manipulator to pick someone more discrete. But she was feeling hungry, and she might as well try to learn who would be trying to get a link into the X-Men this time.
"Italian? I think I can manage an Italian dinner. Did you drive here? I can follow you in my car." She forced her expression into a smile, hoping that it looked as if she found the man interesting, or at least not as hopelessly predictable as he truly seemed to be.
So, she found herself having dinner with Kevin. He kept flirting with her, almost reminding her of Remy in some ways. Very aware of his good looks, certain of his charm, and flirting shamelessly. But unlike Remy, there was something behind Kevin's flirting, some sort of purpose that she could feel. She didn't know what it was, that would require probing his mind, and he would probably notice if she did that. Pity, it was about the only thing interesting about him.
Finally, the dinner concluded, and Kevin insisted on paying the bill. As they were walking out to the parking lot, he suddenly grabbed her arms, and pushed her up against a car, his lips demandingly crushing hers. His mind was full of violent, lustful thoughts. Betsy saw the truth. That he intended to have her tonight, to spend himself into her body, regardless of her will.
This realization angered her, a dark rage burning inside of her. Her eyes glowed red, and the rest of her body momentarily flickered dark as shadow, and she licked at his lips, tasting not his flesh, but the essence of his mind, his inner being. She touched that essence, and she drank it down, pulling until he collapsed onto the ground, weak gasping noises coming from him, almost reminiscent of a fish flopping on the shore.
"Let that be a lesson to you. You can't always have things your way."
She walked away from him, attempting to remember where she had left her car. She felt all warm inside, almost tingly and giddy. She wasn't hungry anymore, and she felt good. She had far to much energy now to simply go home, there had to be something that she could do. Where was that club that Remy had mentioned last month? The one with great music and dancing?
There was nothing keeping her here anymore. Why not go have a bit of fun?
End Crimson Hunger.