The Wolverine was not happy. Not for the first time in his life, he felt like he'd come back from the dead, waking up on a cold hard floor with no one to maim to make himself feel better. It was definitely time to have a few words with his new employer. Wolverine was certain the indigo terrorist had deliberately kept her daughter's ability a secret and Wolverine did not like it when people kept secrets. Not from him, and definitely not when it resulted in him losing consciousness. Someone was going to pay for the headache he was experiencing.
He swore to himself as he pushed his back up against a drawer. If he hadn't been in Madripoor when he'd gotten word of Mystique's offer, he would have checked the two women out personally. Then that little hellcat never would have taken him by surprise. Sighing, he rested his head against the drawer behind him. He shouldn't be feeling this bad. He almost felt like he had a hangover. At least, this is what he imagined a hangover would feel like to someone without a healing factor.
He was still trying to figure out what the girl had done to him when the door opened and Mystique walked in. Glared up at her, watching her take in the scene. Her eyes landed on him sitting on the floor with his back to one of the cabinets and she frowned. Despite the unhappy expression, Wolverine couldn't help but notice the glint of pride in her eyes.
"Mr. Jackman, if you want to be prepared for tomorrow, I suggest you sleep somewhere other than the floor. I'm sure we can provide a room for you should you desire one."
"What the hell did that broad do to me?" he demanded through gritted teeth.
Mystique regarded him frostily. "That broad is my daughter. And it just so happens that Rogue has the unique ability to drain people of powers, memories, and strength through skin to skin contact."
Wolverine stood up and glared at her.
"Anything else I should know about her?" he asked sarcastically.
Mystique smirked. "Yes. She has a bit of an impulse control problem."
Wolverine stormed towards the door. Before he walked out, Mystique put a hand on his arm.
"You're over a hundred years old, yes?" she asked suddenly.
Wolverine raised an eyebrow at her. "Something like that. Why?"
"Yet your body is only thirty-something at most. How would you react if someone was condescending to you because they perceived you to be younger than you were?"
"What's your point?" Wolverine asked, exasperated.
"Rogue has absorbed many people, Wolverine. Not all of them pleasant or young. And she carries part of them with her in her mind, sometimes even gets confused as to which memories are hers and which aren't. Her body may be twenty, but she's much older than that." She removed her hand. "Think about it."
With that, Mystique turned and left the room once again, leaving an agitated Wolverine behind. Growling in frustration, he left to find a place to sleep. No way was he staying here. Who knows? The blue bitch may have more children . . .
Rogue glanced up as Wolverine entered the weapons room the next day, tensing as images assaulted her mind. Last night she'd had a new nightmare. Now all of a sudden, Wolverine seemed like a whole new person. One she didn't want in her head. She gripped her new plasma gun a little closer. Wolverine noticed and narrowed his eyes.
"Well? Your mother told me you were the one to see about equipment."
Rogue nodded and picked up an energy rifle. Before she handed it to him, she hesitated, searching his face.
"You're not by any chance still upset with me are you?" she asked carefully.
Wolverine gave her his most discomforting smile.
"Upset with you? About what?" he asked innocently.
Rogue slowly handed him the energy rifle. She may not trust him, but she knew from what she'd gotten from absorbing him that he wouldn't kill her. At least until the mission was over. Still.
Wolverine watched her hesitation with interest. If he didn't know any better, he'd say he was making her nervous. Slyly, he stepped a little closer to her. Instinctively, Rogue to a to step back into the table behind her.
"Strange time to get shy, isn't it?" he asked casually. "After you were so . . . forward, yesterday." He took satisfaction in the way he could hear her heart beat quicker at his nearness. Leaning in a little further, he lowered his voice. "Maybe next time, you'll leave me awake to enjoy it?"
Rogue's eyes widened and for a second she looked like she was going to cry. She was standing inches away from an undeniably masculine co-worker who was deliberately being sexy and trying to instigate something she desperately wanted to do. That asshole.
Sensing the change in her body language, Wolverine leaned back a little to look at her. When he noticed her eyes shining with unshed tears, he frowned in confusion. He'd meant to make her uncomfortable, maybe blush, but not cry. Before he had a chance to ponder it any further, Rogue's fist came rocketing towards his face. He dropped the energy rifle and blocked her swing easily. Grabbing her gloved hand in his, he reached for her other one to prevent her from swinging again.
"Hey -- what—" he sputtered.
"You asshole," Rogue hissed through clenched teeth. Jerking her leg upwards, she waited for him to move to protect his groin and then she brought her heel down hard on the instep of his foot. Grunting in pain and surprise, Wolverine loosened his grip on her hands and she twisted away. Running out of the room, Wolverine heard her footsteps pounding up the stairs before a door slammed shut.
"What the hell is wrong with her?" he said out loud.
"She has no control over her powers," a voice said from the doorway. Wolverine turned to see Mystique standing there watching him.
"Why is it you always seem to come in just when something's happening?" Wolverine grumbled.
Mystique raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think I'm not watching you in the first place?"
That sucked. Wolverine sighed and ran a hand over his face.
"What do you mean she has no control?" he asked finally.
"She cannot turn off her powers." Mystique paused for a moment, before adding, "I hope you were not looking forward to another kiss."
The next morning, Wolverine waited silently for Rogue to arrive. He was standing at the designated meeting place, the northwest corner of electrified fence surrounding Pharm-Tech. As he waited for his partner in crime to get there, Wolverine mentally ran over all the things he knew about Rogue. He was absolutely determined not to end up unconscious, in pain, or feeling like a jerk. There had to be a way to go back to being businesslike with this woman. He rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. Yeah. Just be businesslike.
"Hey, old man, stop poppin' your bones and get your ass over the damn fence."
Wolverine frowned and turned around. Rogue was standing two feet away from him beside the fence watching him. She was dressed from head to toe in a black catsuit that fit her like a second skin. Wolverine was torn between feeling turned on and feeling sad for the young woman that couldn't do anything about it, even if he told her. He shook it off. Business, he reminded himself.
"You're late," he said.
Rogue shook her head. "Last minute decision. Before Ah left, Mama had me absorb Toad. Ah jumped here as fast as Ah could."
Wolverine stared at her. "I've joined a fuckin' circus," he mumbled despairingly.
Resigning himself to his fate, Wolverine approached the electric fence quietly. Rogue followed behind him, her ever-present plasma gun strapped to her back and a flashlight held at ready. Wolverine laced his hands together and knelt down.
"Step up, Rogue, and I'll give you a hand over the fence."
Rogue shook her head. Before Wolverine could ask her how else she planned on getting over the electrified fence without getting shocked, she grabbed him and jumped. They both landed on the ground hard, but unharmed. Wolverine rolled into a crouch and growled in irritation.
"Don't ever do that—"
Rogue cut him off. "Come on, the main door is this way."
Wolverine suppressed the urge to throttle her and followed her towards the building. When they got to the door, Wolverine seized the opportunity to release some of his frustration. Popping one of his claws, he viciously jabbed it into the lock on the front door. It sizzled and snapped as the electric circuit was severed, preventing the alarm from sounding. Quickly, they made their way through the halls, each of them knowing every twist and turn from repeated studying of the floor plans Mystique had provided. As they reached a fork in the passage, they each went a separate way. Wolverine followed his nose down to the lower levels, where the mutant test subjects were being kept. Rogue went on to find the main computer, slipping her gloves off and into her pocket.
Wolverine crept through the sterilized passageway, on the alert for any human employees. None were to be found and Wolverine shook his head. The stupid Doctor seemed to believe in almost totally automated control. There wasn't a single human guard down this far. Wolverine figured everyone was too scared of their big bad mutant prisoners to agree to stay the night with them. He snorted. Cowardly bastards.
As he neared the main containment area, Wolverine caught the scent of the captives. Following his sense of smell as well as his memory of the passages, he made his way to the containment area.
Finally, he reached the door. Disabling the lock he took a deep breath and opened the door. As he walked in, Wolverine's stomach churned and he had to fight to keep his mind from flashing back to his own time in a laboratory. Shaking off his own nightmarish memories, Wolverine concentrated on the task at hand. There were at least twenty mutants around the room in various cages. Around each of their necks was an inhibitor collar. Some of them watched him as he walked across the floor. Others remained immobile on the floors of their cages. Wolverine knew they were unconscious without checking. You didn't sleep in a place like this. Determinedly, Wolverine made his way to the cage with his objective.
Inside sat a woman with shoulder length brown hair. At Wolverine's approach, she turned her head to face him. Black gray eyes watched him as he knelt by her cage.
"Wolverine. So nice to see you again," she said softly.
"Hello, Martinique."
"Please, call me Mastermind. I have not been Martinique since my father died." Her French accent seemed strangely out of place in her harsh surroundings.
Wolverine nodded and leaned in to look at the lock on her cage. Then he paused, giving her a serious look. "You owe me for London."
Mastermind bowed her head. "Oui, Wolverine. I have not forgotten."
Wolverine didn't respond. Kneeling down, he reached into the cage and slid one of his claws out. Slicing through the collar, he freed Mastermind to use her powers. Quietly he brought Mastermind up to date.
Rogue kept to the side of the hallway as she approached the door to the main computer room. Pressing her hand against the door, she eased it open and looked around the room. Just as Mystique had said, there were only two men seated at the computer terminal. These two men were, for the most part, the only human personnel within the complex.
Rogue took a deep breath and slipped quietly into the room, creeping along the wall, she made her way over to where they were sitting. Crouching down, she snuck up behind them. Taking a marble out of the little bag around her waist, she slowly rose up. Reaching a bare hand forward she made contact with one man's face while simultaneously throwing the marble across the room. The man she grabbed jerked briefly before slouching over, while the other one's head jerked around to face the sound the marble had made against the far wall. Before he could turn back around, Rogue was beside him, bare hand on his cheek. With both of the technicians down for the count, Rogue took them both over and efficiently tied them up in the corner with an extension cord, making sure they wouldn't come to and ruin the plan. Going back to the computer, armed with the knowledge she had absorbed from the two workers, she tapped into the computer's main database.
After she was in, she accessed the company's bank records and quickly transferred the funds into another account. Then, taking a blank disk out of her little bag, she quickly copied the essential information onto it. Putting that one back, she took out another disk. Inserting it into the computer, she uploaded the file that would insert the virus into the system. Checking to make sure the timer was set correctly, she finished her work and logged out.
Going over to her captives she untied them and sat them back up in their chairs. Her job done, she rushed to meet Wolverine.