Author's Note: I love reviews! And reviewers! I got on someone's favorites list! Me! I did! Ha! Take that, Mom!
Another Author's Note: My mom says I shouldn't post fan fiction because the show writers could come on the web site and steal it. Little does she know that the show writers are too busy trying to smash Brennan and Shalimar together to even consider my ideas...
Disclaimer Mock IV: This grows tiresome. Why must we write these things? If I actually owned the show, would I be writing fan fiction about it? NO! I would be busy creating Mutant X Season 1 on DVD! But I don't and I'm not.
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I yowled my rage and threw myself at Jesse with my claws extended, impacting with the force of a bullet against a steel wall and bouncing back with the same force. Combat training was not going well, mostly because I was having trouble focusing in the shielded dojo. The energy walls sent flashes of light straight into my eyes, and I had somehow convinced myself that it was doing it on purpose.
I flew back the way I had come, and hit the evil walls of energy, which shocked me enough to snap me out of my animal frenzy. I curled up away from the wall, favoring the right side that had been hit, and watched my claws fold back into my fingertips. When my canine teeth disappeared I pushed myself up and smiled apologetically at Jesse, who was being remarkably patient with me.
"You okay? You hit pretty hard that last time."
I shook myself off, checking for damages. I was okay.
"What's the problem?" Adam's voice came through the walls.
I rubbed my eyes and tried to see where he was. Jesse had no problem seeing through, and pointed helpfully for me. Adressing his general direction, I replied. "It's these walls," I told him, squeezing the bridge of my nose to ward off my approaching headache. "The light keeps bouncing back into my eyes and messing up my concentration. And it smells awful."
Jesse sniffed. "I don't smell anything."
"You're not a feral," Adam said, sounding as though he understood the problem. He turned off the shield and contemplated me for a moment.
"What about a safe house?" Emma suggested, having walked in in time to hear the tail end of the conversation. She smiled lovingly at Jesse, though I don't think she meant to. "I can take her. If she gets out of control, I can snap her out of it pretty fast."
Adam thought about it, while I crossed my fingers behind my back. Finally he looked at my feet. "She'll need shoes," he looked at my pajama-like clothing, "And some street clothes."
I was dismayed, the mere thought of shoes making my feet hurt. Emma glanced at me, amused, but smiled at Adam. "No problem. I'll just steal some of Shal's stuff."
Adam held up a hand in caution. "We don't want her to get all territorial on Danny." I shuddered at the thought of the fierce blond turning her temper on me, having witnessed her chewing out Brennan for freezing a steak that she had apparently been keeping raw in the crisper drawer. Brennan was currently hiding in his room, under the pretenses of reading poetry.
I cleared my throat. "I'll find clothes." I glanced at Jesse, who was about my height, in the leg, at least. I grinned at Adam. "Shal's too short, anyways." I dashed away before they could say anything, and stole a pair of Jesse's baggy jeans, which would be more comfortable than anything Shalimar wore. They were slightly too big to fit exactly on my waist, but didn't slip past my pelvic bones, even when I shook my hips like a belly dancer, and even better, they exposed the tiny silhouette of a lioness rampant tattooed beside and just below my belly button, which I had given myself as a graduation present. My white tank top would be fine: It covered more of my torso than Emma's shirt did, even if I did have a three-inch gap of pale skin in between it and my- Jesse's- pants.
Satisfied with my appearance, I strolled back to the dojo. Jesse recognized his jeans but didn't say anything, and Emma nodded approval, though Adam eyed me critically. "Can you move in those?"
I demonstrated by doing a perfect butterfly kick* that skimmed the hair on the top of his head, landing lightly on the balls of my feet. Adam frowned. "Where'd you learn to do that? Jesse didn't teach you that."
I grinned sheepishly. "I'm a third degree black belt in taekwondo."
"I knew I'd heard your name somewhere," Jesse said, thumping his forehead with his hand. He looked at me with a new respect in his eyes. "You placed at Nationals, a few years ago."
"That was a long time ago," I said ruefully. "After I went to college, I never had time to practice."
"Why didn't you say something before?" Adam sounded aggrieved.
I sighed. "There's a saying: You need not unsay what you did not say in the first place. Besides, I figured you ran a background check the minute you got my full name."
Adam snapped his fingers and walked quickly to the computer console, bringing up a window. Instantly my most recent mug shot filled the screen, and I winced, it not being a very flattering picture, a bruise on my cheekbone puffing up my face. "Bar fight," I muttered to Emma, who had made a questioning noise. "You should've seen the other guy." She looked amused- what was so funny about me?
"Aidan Cheyenne Foster," Adam read. "Born November 12, 1981** in Boone, North Carolina, graduated from high school 1998, already with an impressive criminal record. Three counts reckless driving, four counts drunk and disorderly-"
"I was not drunk," I interrupted. "I was... being feral. They didn't know what to call it, so they labeled it D+D and sent me to rehab, the assholes." I made a face. "I hate rehab."
"Me too," Emma commented softly, and I wondered what had sent the quiet brunette to rehab.
"What about the reckless driving?" Jesse asked.
I grinned mischeiviously. "Oh, well, those are, at least, founded in truth. I like cars." Then I clarified. "I like fast cars, and I like winning money by racing fast cars."
Emma snorted. "So does Brennan, only with his powers," she flexed her fingers to demonstrate, "He could also boost the cars fast as the blink of an eye."
My mind rolled with the possibilities. "I had a Shelby Mustang, back in high school. A '72, GT-500." I groaned in remembrance. "Man, she could fly. They took her away after the third time I got caught racing. I miss that car."
Emma smiled slyly. "We have quite the collection of cars here at Sanctuary, including a couple Mustangs if you-"
"No racing," Adam interrupted. "Absolutely no racing and no taking the cars out without another person with you. Is that clear?"
I made a face. "Yes, Daddy."
He pointed a finger at me, his stern expression softening. "None of that, now. I'm just Adam."
I smiled and followed Emma down to the garage, where she wouldn't let me drive, even though I did my puppy-dog eyes face at her.
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Emma parked outside a bookstore and I followed her in, wondering what we were doing there. Then I caught a whiff of Adam's scent floating around the musty old bookstore and realized this must lead to what Emma had called a safe house, so I relaxed and looked around.
It was a great old bookstore, the kind filled from floor to ceiling with wonderful old books waiting for you to read them. The close confines of the shelves made Emma look slightly claustrophobic, and a part of me agreed with her, but most of me loved it: you could get lost for days in a place like this, it seemed. But now was not the time to get lost, and I kept Emma in my sight as she wound her way through the shelves.
Finally, she seemed to find what she was looking for. "Dammit, Ruby. You need signs in this place." I looked over the man she spoke to, inhaling his scent for clues about him. He smelled like the bookstore, like a pastrami sandwich with banana peppers, and like a New Mutant, but there was something about him I didn't like.
He had started to say something to Emma but stopped and stared at me, prompting me to raise an eyebrow as though to say, "What?" I crossed my arms defensively over my chest and stared back at him, just to see how long he would hold it, but Emma had to break the tension.
"Ruby, this is Danny. Danny, this is Ruby. He owns the bookstore." I didn't respond. "Say hello, Danny."
"Hello, Danny," I dutifully repeated, still glaring at this weak person.
Emma turned to Ruby. "Ruby, Danny's a feral, and we need to use your safe house for training."
The man smiled at Emma, obviously trying to maintain is composure. I wondered mildly if he would pee in his pants. "Go ahead. You know you're always welcome at my store. But, Emma-" He glanced at me sidelong. "-I'd be careful. She might bite your head off."
I lunged forward with a snarl, pinning him to the bookshelf behind him. "I would never bite Emma's head off," I whispered dangerously, smelling him sweat in fear and pushing aside my disgust. "Emma has strength and integrity written all over her. I respect her. You-" I sniffed him exaggeratedly as he squinted his eyes up and squirmed. "-have a backbone made of popsicle sticks and scotch tape. I could snap you in two with my bare hands."
He finally lost it and an awful smell reached my nose. Disgusted, I dropped him and turned to Emma, who looked shocked. "Where is this safe house?" She pointed and I stalked in that direction.
Emma caught up with me. "That wasn't very nice," she remarked.
I shrugged. "I don't like him."
"Why not?"
I thought about it, and when I got down to it, there was only one reason. "He let me do that."
Emma looked confused, so I explained. "He probably could have stopped me, if he'd tried. But he didn't." I paused. "He'd be easy to torture."
We reached a dead-end corner and Emma pulled a book partway out. The wall rotated halfway around and Emma slid through the gap. I followed.
"You're right," Emma said thoughtfully. "He gave Adam away once, to a guy named Eckhart. I guess you're a pretty good judge of character."
I shrugged off the compliment and looked around at the room. In comparison to the messy bookstore, this place was neat and polished, high-tech looking in it's metallic sheen. It was a pretty cool place.
When I finished my scrutiny of the room, I turned to find Emma regarding me speculatively. "What?" I asked.
"What you told Ruby about me- did you mean that?"
"Mhmm." I straddled a chair nearby, propping my arms up on the back.
"What have I done to earn your respect?" She seemed honestly confused and I realized that not many people saw past her quiet calm to her inner strength, least of all herself.
I thought about her question. "You're stronger than anyone thinks you are, but you don't tell them that. And you're a helluvalot more patient than I could ever be." I stopped and looked at her again. "And I don't think Jesse would get involved with just anybody."
She started. "How did you-"
I laughed. "I'm not blind, you know. And my sense of smell is a lot keener than most."
She blushed. "This is embarassing," she muttered, sitting down in another chair.
Now it was my turn to be confused. "Why? Why should something you think is right embarass you? Because I know? Why should my opinion matter?" I sat up and studied her for a minute. "And in any case, I approve."
She smiled slightly when I said that. "You do?"
"Yeah. I mean, you two are obviously happy. Why wouldn't I want you to be happy?"
She looked down. "Because you're not happy."
I reached over and put a hand on her shoulder so she'd look at me. "I'm getting there," I said quietly, meaning it.
Regreting my moment of openness, I pushed backwards out of my chair. "Now. Lets get to the part where I kick your ass." She grinned and, without warning, took a swing at me. I ducked and retaliated with a round kick to her head, which she barely blocked. We continued sparring easily, enjoying the workout. And I did not lose my temper once the entire time.
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* A butterfly kick is a 360 inverted jump spin cresent kick. You pick up your back knee and spin around 180 degrees, then jump off the other leg + wack your opponent with the inside of that foot, usually on their head. It is quite an impressive kick when done correctly.
**I don't know what year Mutant X is set in, so I'm saying it's 2003. So Aidan is twenty-two, for those of you with no math skills. (I had to use a calculator, hehehe.)
Note: There will be more Emma/Jesse stuff in the next chapter, if you review and ask nicely.
Another Author's Note: My mom says I shouldn't post fan fiction because the show writers could come on the web site and steal it. Little does she know that the show writers are too busy trying to smash Brennan and Shalimar together to even consider my ideas...
Disclaimer Mock IV: This grows tiresome. Why must we write these things? If I actually owned the show, would I be writing fan fiction about it? NO! I would be busy creating Mutant X Season 1 on DVD! But I don't and I'm not.
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I yowled my rage and threw myself at Jesse with my claws extended, impacting with the force of a bullet against a steel wall and bouncing back with the same force. Combat training was not going well, mostly because I was having trouble focusing in the shielded dojo. The energy walls sent flashes of light straight into my eyes, and I had somehow convinced myself that it was doing it on purpose.
I flew back the way I had come, and hit the evil walls of energy, which shocked me enough to snap me out of my animal frenzy. I curled up away from the wall, favoring the right side that had been hit, and watched my claws fold back into my fingertips. When my canine teeth disappeared I pushed myself up and smiled apologetically at Jesse, who was being remarkably patient with me.
"You okay? You hit pretty hard that last time."
I shook myself off, checking for damages. I was okay.
"What's the problem?" Adam's voice came through the walls.
I rubbed my eyes and tried to see where he was. Jesse had no problem seeing through, and pointed helpfully for me. Adressing his general direction, I replied. "It's these walls," I told him, squeezing the bridge of my nose to ward off my approaching headache. "The light keeps bouncing back into my eyes and messing up my concentration. And it smells awful."
Jesse sniffed. "I don't smell anything."
"You're not a feral," Adam said, sounding as though he understood the problem. He turned off the shield and contemplated me for a moment.
"What about a safe house?" Emma suggested, having walked in in time to hear the tail end of the conversation. She smiled lovingly at Jesse, though I don't think she meant to. "I can take her. If she gets out of control, I can snap her out of it pretty fast."
Adam thought about it, while I crossed my fingers behind my back. Finally he looked at my feet. "She'll need shoes," he looked at my pajama-like clothing, "And some street clothes."
I was dismayed, the mere thought of shoes making my feet hurt. Emma glanced at me, amused, but smiled at Adam. "No problem. I'll just steal some of Shal's stuff."
Adam held up a hand in caution. "We don't want her to get all territorial on Danny." I shuddered at the thought of the fierce blond turning her temper on me, having witnessed her chewing out Brennan for freezing a steak that she had apparently been keeping raw in the crisper drawer. Brennan was currently hiding in his room, under the pretenses of reading poetry.
I cleared my throat. "I'll find clothes." I glanced at Jesse, who was about my height, in the leg, at least. I grinned at Adam. "Shal's too short, anyways." I dashed away before they could say anything, and stole a pair of Jesse's baggy jeans, which would be more comfortable than anything Shalimar wore. They were slightly too big to fit exactly on my waist, but didn't slip past my pelvic bones, even when I shook my hips like a belly dancer, and even better, they exposed the tiny silhouette of a lioness rampant tattooed beside and just below my belly button, which I had given myself as a graduation present. My white tank top would be fine: It covered more of my torso than Emma's shirt did, even if I did have a three-inch gap of pale skin in between it and my- Jesse's- pants.
Satisfied with my appearance, I strolled back to the dojo. Jesse recognized his jeans but didn't say anything, and Emma nodded approval, though Adam eyed me critically. "Can you move in those?"
I demonstrated by doing a perfect butterfly kick* that skimmed the hair on the top of his head, landing lightly on the balls of my feet. Adam frowned. "Where'd you learn to do that? Jesse didn't teach you that."
I grinned sheepishly. "I'm a third degree black belt in taekwondo."
"I knew I'd heard your name somewhere," Jesse said, thumping his forehead with his hand. He looked at me with a new respect in his eyes. "You placed at Nationals, a few years ago."
"That was a long time ago," I said ruefully. "After I went to college, I never had time to practice."
"Why didn't you say something before?" Adam sounded aggrieved.
I sighed. "There's a saying: You need not unsay what you did not say in the first place. Besides, I figured you ran a background check the minute you got my full name."
Adam snapped his fingers and walked quickly to the computer console, bringing up a window. Instantly my most recent mug shot filled the screen, and I winced, it not being a very flattering picture, a bruise on my cheekbone puffing up my face. "Bar fight," I muttered to Emma, who had made a questioning noise. "You should've seen the other guy." She looked amused- what was so funny about me?
"Aidan Cheyenne Foster," Adam read. "Born November 12, 1981** in Boone, North Carolina, graduated from high school 1998, already with an impressive criminal record. Three counts reckless driving, four counts drunk and disorderly-"
"I was not drunk," I interrupted. "I was... being feral. They didn't know what to call it, so they labeled it D+D and sent me to rehab, the assholes." I made a face. "I hate rehab."
"Me too," Emma commented softly, and I wondered what had sent the quiet brunette to rehab.
"What about the reckless driving?" Jesse asked.
I grinned mischeiviously. "Oh, well, those are, at least, founded in truth. I like cars." Then I clarified. "I like fast cars, and I like winning money by racing fast cars."
Emma snorted. "So does Brennan, only with his powers," she flexed her fingers to demonstrate, "He could also boost the cars fast as the blink of an eye."
My mind rolled with the possibilities. "I had a Shelby Mustang, back in high school. A '72, GT-500." I groaned in remembrance. "Man, she could fly. They took her away after the third time I got caught racing. I miss that car."
Emma smiled slyly. "We have quite the collection of cars here at Sanctuary, including a couple Mustangs if you-"
"No racing," Adam interrupted. "Absolutely no racing and no taking the cars out without another person with you. Is that clear?"
I made a face. "Yes, Daddy."
He pointed a finger at me, his stern expression softening. "None of that, now. I'm just Adam."
I smiled and followed Emma down to the garage, where she wouldn't let me drive, even though I did my puppy-dog eyes face at her.
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Emma parked outside a bookstore and I followed her in, wondering what we were doing there. Then I caught a whiff of Adam's scent floating around the musty old bookstore and realized this must lead to what Emma had called a safe house, so I relaxed and looked around.
It was a great old bookstore, the kind filled from floor to ceiling with wonderful old books waiting for you to read them. The close confines of the shelves made Emma look slightly claustrophobic, and a part of me agreed with her, but most of me loved it: you could get lost for days in a place like this, it seemed. But now was not the time to get lost, and I kept Emma in my sight as she wound her way through the shelves.
Finally, she seemed to find what she was looking for. "Dammit, Ruby. You need signs in this place." I looked over the man she spoke to, inhaling his scent for clues about him. He smelled like the bookstore, like a pastrami sandwich with banana peppers, and like a New Mutant, but there was something about him I didn't like.
He had started to say something to Emma but stopped and stared at me, prompting me to raise an eyebrow as though to say, "What?" I crossed my arms defensively over my chest and stared back at him, just to see how long he would hold it, but Emma had to break the tension.
"Ruby, this is Danny. Danny, this is Ruby. He owns the bookstore." I didn't respond. "Say hello, Danny."
"Hello, Danny," I dutifully repeated, still glaring at this weak person.
Emma turned to Ruby. "Ruby, Danny's a feral, and we need to use your safe house for training."
The man smiled at Emma, obviously trying to maintain is composure. I wondered mildly if he would pee in his pants. "Go ahead. You know you're always welcome at my store. But, Emma-" He glanced at me sidelong. "-I'd be careful. She might bite your head off."
I lunged forward with a snarl, pinning him to the bookshelf behind him. "I would never bite Emma's head off," I whispered dangerously, smelling him sweat in fear and pushing aside my disgust. "Emma has strength and integrity written all over her. I respect her. You-" I sniffed him exaggeratedly as he squinted his eyes up and squirmed. "-have a backbone made of popsicle sticks and scotch tape. I could snap you in two with my bare hands."
He finally lost it and an awful smell reached my nose. Disgusted, I dropped him and turned to Emma, who looked shocked. "Where is this safe house?" She pointed and I stalked in that direction.
Emma caught up with me. "That wasn't very nice," she remarked.
I shrugged. "I don't like him."
"Why not?"
I thought about it, and when I got down to it, there was only one reason. "He let me do that."
Emma looked confused, so I explained. "He probably could have stopped me, if he'd tried. But he didn't." I paused. "He'd be easy to torture."
We reached a dead-end corner and Emma pulled a book partway out. The wall rotated halfway around and Emma slid through the gap. I followed.
"You're right," Emma said thoughtfully. "He gave Adam away once, to a guy named Eckhart. I guess you're a pretty good judge of character."
I shrugged off the compliment and looked around at the room. In comparison to the messy bookstore, this place was neat and polished, high-tech looking in it's metallic sheen. It was a pretty cool place.
When I finished my scrutiny of the room, I turned to find Emma regarding me speculatively. "What?" I asked.
"What you told Ruby about me- did you mean that?"
"Mhmm." I straddled a chair nearby, propping my arms up on the back.
"What have I done to earn your respect?" She seemed honestly confused and I realized that not many people saw past her quiet calm to her inner strength, least of all herself.
I thought about her question. "You're stronger than anyone thinks you are, but you don't tell them that. And you're a helluvalot more patient than I could ever be." I stopped and looked at her again. "And I don't think Jesse would get involved with just anybody."
She started. "How did you-"
I laughed. "I'm not blind, you know. And my sense of smell is a lot keener than most."
She blushed. "This is embarassing," she muttered, sitting down in another chair.
Now it was my turn to be confused. "Why? Why should something you think is right embarass you? Because I know? Why should my opinion matter?" I sat up and studied her for a minute. "And in any case, I approve."
She smiled slightly when I said that. "You do?"
"Yeah. I mean, you two are obviously happy. Why wouldn't I want you to be happy?"
She looked down. "Because you're not happy."
I reached over and put a hand on her shoulder so she'd look at me. "I'm getting there," I said quietly, meaning it.
Regreting my moment of openness, I pushed backwards out of my chair. "Now. Lets get to the part where I kick your ass." She grinned and, without warning, took a swing at me. I ducked and retaliated with a round kick to her head, which she barely blocked. We continued sparring easily, enjoying the workout. And I did not lose my temper once the entire time.
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* A butterfly kick is a 360 inverted jump spin cresent kick. You pick up your back knee and spin around 180 degrees, then jump off the other leg + wack your opponent with the inside of that foot, usually on their head. It is quite an impressive kick when done correctly.
**I don't know what year Mutant X is set in, so I'm saying it's 2003. So Aidan is twenty-two, for those of you with no math skills. (I had to use a calculator, hehehe.)
Note: There will be more Emma/Jesse stuff in the next chapter, if you review and ask nicely.