Authors note: Okay here it is. The story's coming up in instalments, so
hopefully I'll have some more up soon. Watch this space.
Thanks to everybody who reviewed. I really appreciated your comments, and I hope that you like the next few chapters. Anyway, enjoy!
Disclaimer: I own nothing absolutely zilch.
Rogue stood before the mirror and looked critically at her reflection.
She had changed clothes the moment she had gotten in from school that afternoon, the sticky heat of the summer necessitating a shower and a change. Luckily, the weather seemed to have cooled down with the onset of dusk. Even so, she hoped that the cinema would be air-conditioned.
She frowned and ran her hand through her thick hair, dissatisfied with her appearance. She didn't normally fuss over what she wore, but as stupid as it sounded, going to the movies with Kurt was a big thing for her. She wanted to look nice for him.
It had been his idea to go out to watch a movie tonight. She knew that she probably shouldn't be going - she have a ton of homework to do - but there was something about Kurt that made him impossible to refuse. Kurt Wagner. Her best friend. Truthfully, aside from Risty, he was the only real friend that she had.
Oh sure, if she was feeling down Jean would come over and sit beside her, encourage her to talk about her feelings. Scott was always there, with his friendly pats on the back and lectures on teamwork. The rest were all amiable in a distant kind of way, but it had all seemed hollow somehow.
But that was why she felt so close to Kurt. When he talked to her, it was because he wanted to - not out of some misguided sense of pity or duty. He was the one that always went out of his way to make her feel included. He was the one that went to talk to her. He was the one that could make her laugh.
Laughing was something that Rogue had thought that she might never do again.
And that was why tonight was so important for her. She wanted to forget about being a mutant. Just for tonight, she was going to be an ordinary girl going to the movies with a friend.
Maybe that's why she had accepted Kurt's invitation to the movies. He treated like any other normal girl. He didn't shy away when she reached out her hand, or avoid her eyes when they were talking. She put people into comas, and yet somehow it didn't faze him out.
And she loved him for that.
She took a step back from the mirror and smoothed out her slitted skirt. Dressed in her customary gothic attire, she really was stunning, not that she would have noticed. She pulled the dark gloves over her slender white forearms - the finishing touch.
A knock on the door made the girl turn her head.
"Who is it?" She asked. Nobody could get into her room unless she knew who it was - she kept the door locked. It was a habit that she had picked up while living with the Brotherhood. The thought of Toad walking in on her getting changed was enough to make her install a padlock on her bedroom door.
"Kurt Wagner, remember me? I'm the good looking one."
Rogue smiled to herself. "Okay, I'm almost ready."
There was a short pause from behind the door. "Can I come in?"
"Huh? Oh, hang on a sec, just let me get the door," the girl looked about her, searching for the key. "I know I left it around here somewhere." she muttered.
There was a flash of light as Kurt teleported into the room. A wisp of smoke curled up to the ceiling, testimony to the young boys mutanagenic gift. The trademark scent of Brimstone filled the air.
He flashed her a grin. "I don't use doors."
Rogue scowled and rested her hands on her hips, feigning annoyance. "Hey hairball! Did I let you in? I might have been naked for Gad's sake!"
Kurt's raven eyebrows rose heavenward. "Yeah, I wish!"
She gave an exasperated groan, picking up her hairbrush from the desk and throwing it in his direction. He gave a startled cry but dodged it easily. She hadn't aimed to hit - she knew that he had only been joking. Suppressing a giggle, she shook her head and turned back to the mirror, draping a lavender coloured scarf over her bare shoulders.
"Hey! You look great!" Kurt told her enthusiastically, regaining his composure from the hairbrush attack, "Really good!"
Despite herself, Rogue felt her cheeks darken self-consciously. She shrugged. "Thanks. I bought it from the mall the other day but I hadn't had a chance to try it on yet."
"It suits you," he told her earnestly, seating himself on the edge of her bed. He looked about him curiously, dark eyes roving the room. "I see you've made your presence felt," he commented, pointing to the posters on the walls, "I bet Kitty was just loves them."
The gothic beauty snorted. "Its an ongoing battle."
Kurt looked doubtfully over to Kitty's side of the room. "Are you two getting along any better yet?"
"Just dandy," she grimaced
The dark haired boy sighed and shook his head. "Stupid me for asking."
Rogue laughed fondly. "Stupid you."
There was a momentary silence as they smiled warmly at each other, a look of understanding passing between them.
Kurt was the first to speak, rising from the bed as he did so. "So are you ready to get going? The movie starts at half past."
She nodded and, retrieving the key from her dresser, went to unlock the door. Kurt's eyes rested on her naked shoulders, a slight frown furrowing his brow. He tilted his head enquiringly. "Aren't you going to bring a jacket?" He held his own coat folded over his arm. "It's going to get cold later."
Rogue shrugged. She was wearing a tight black vest top that flattered her slender figure. Rogue was by no means vain, but she was well aware of how the affect would be ruined if she donned a jacket. "Nah, I'll be fine like this."
The boy's mouth opened as if he were going to press the point, but he seemed to think better of it. Running his hands through his raven hair, he followed his friend as they walked out of the door, a set of car keys jangling in his trousers pocket.
"Okay, but I'm driving."
Hidden to the main road by the thick tangle of trees, the car purred to a halt in the narrow dirt path. The ignition died, and the side door opened, the driver stepping cautiously out onto the grass. She looked about her to ensure that she was alone. Satisfied that this was the case, she closed the car door behind her, and walked to the side of the path. There was a gap in the dense foliage that looked out onto a nearby beach, the ocean sparkling gold in the sunset. She approached it slowly, almost hesitantly, batting a low-lying branch out of her way with a manicured hand.
Had she been a romantic, she might have perhaps stopped for a moment to enjoy the scenery. It was a beautiful summer evening. The vaulted sky was stained a rainbow wash of pastel hues, the western horizon glowing coral pink with the setting sun. The oppressive heat of the day had given way to the fresh cool of dusk and a warm breeze was blowing in from the ocean. It really was awe-inspiring.
However, time and experience had hardened her to such sentiments, and her dark eyes found no pleasure in the beauty around her. Instead, her gaze fixed itself on the nearby building. It was set just beyond the bay, built on the land above a cliff face.
The Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters.
A whisper of a breeze ran through her fiery red hair. She stared at the building for a long time, lost in thought, her expression impossible to read. She had come to this place often in the past. To think. To plan. To be alone with her grief.
She had much to grieve over.
But that was not her purpose in coming here tonight. There was something that she needed to do, but a part of her doubted if she had the courage. A cold stab of fear gripped her stomach. She would have ever admitted it to anybody, but she was afraid. Terrified. She had everything to lose.
But she couldn't live with her sorrow anymore, the pain of knowing that she had lost them both forever. She had lived in agony for over sixteen years now.she couldn't bear it any longer.
She closed her eyes and sighed heavily. A single tear, hot and unashamed, slid silently down her sapphire cheek.
It was time to tell the truth.
Noiselessly, she turned and walked to her car.
Charles Xavier sat at his desk in the security of the book-lined office. The evening newspaper lay open in front of him, but he paid it no attention. His fingers were steeple under his chin, and his eyes were closed. Somewhere in the room, a clock ticked ominously, like a mechanical heartbeat.
His brown eyes slid open suddenly and he seemed to waken from his trance. He sat motionless for a moment, his forehead creased in a frown of deep meditation.
~Mystique? What are you doing here? ~
He reached out with his thoughts. Even with his formidable telepathic powers, Mystique remained something of a mystery. Her mind was closed to him. On the very rare occasions that he had been able to probe her memories, it had lasted only momentarily before she was able to regain control. He sensed her guarded presence now.
~Let me in, Charles. There are matters that we need to discuss. ~
He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
~You know that I can't do that. I will not endanger the lives of the students here. ~
He felt a growing sense of anger and frustration.and something else. She hid her emotions well, but he could swear that he sensed a feeling of desperation.
~I have not come here to fight, with you, or your X Men. I have come to talk.about the boy. ~
Professor Xavier's frown deepened. This was an unprecedented move . There was very little doubt in his mind that Mystique was the mother of Nightcrawler. The memories Rogue had absorbed proved that. But Mystique had allegiance with Magneto -or at least she had formally had - and demonstrated no interest in perusing a relationship with Kurt.
Why was she here? And why now?
Leaning forward, he pressed a button on the side of his desk. Outside the mansion, the security gates opened.
~Alright, Mystique. You may enter. ~
Thanks to everybody who reviewed. I really appreciated your comments, and I hope that you like the next few chapters. Anyway, enjoy!
Disclaimer: I own nothing absolutely zilch.
Rogue stood before the mirror and looked critically at her reflection.
She had changed clothes the moment she had gotten in from school that afternoon, the sticky heat of the summer necessitating a shower and a change. Luckily, the weather seemed to have cooled down with the onset of dusk. Even so, she hoped that the cinema would be air-conditioned.
She frowned and ran her hand through her thick hair, dissatisfied with her appearance. She didn't normally fuss over what she wore, but as stupid as it sounded, going to the movies with Kurt was a big thing for her. She wanted to look nice for him.
It had been his idea to go out to watch a movie tonight. She knew that she probably shouldn't be going - she have a ton of homework to do - but there was something about Kurt that made him impossible to refuse. Kurt Wagner. Her best friend. Truthfully, aside from Risty, he was the only real friend that she had.
Oh sure, if she was feeling down Jean would come over and sit beside her, encourage her to talk about her feelings. Scott was always there, with his friendly pats on the back and lectures on teamwork. The rest were all amiable in a distant kind of way, but it had all seemed hollow somehow.
But that was why she felt so close to Kurt. When he talked to her, it was because he wanted to - not out of some misguided sense of pity or duty. He was the one that always went out of his way to make her feel included. He was the one that went to talk to her. He was the one that could make her laugh.
Laughing was something that Rogue had thought that she might never do again.
And that was why tonight was so important for her. She wanted to forget about being a mutant. Just for tonight, she was going to be an ordinary girl going to the movies with a friend.
Maybe that's why she had accepted Kurt's invitation to the movies. He treated like any other normal girl. He didn't shy away when she reached out her hand, or avoid her eyes when they were talking. She put people into comas, and yet somehow it didn't faze him out.
And she loved him for that.
She took a step back from the mirror and smoothed out her slitted skirt. Dressed in her customary gothic attire, she really was stunning, not that she would have noticed. She pulled the dark gloves over her slender white forearms - the finishing touch.
A knock on the door made the girl turn her head.
"Who is it?" She asked. Nobody could get into her room unless she knew who it was - she kept the door locked. It was a habit that she had picked up while living with the Brotherhood. The thought of Toad walking in on her getting changed was enough to make her install a padlock on her bedroom door.
"Kurt Wagner, remember me? I'm the good looking one."
Rogue smiled to herself. "Okay, I'm almost ready."
There was a short pause from behind the door. "Can I come in?"
"Huh? Oh, hang on a sec, just let me get the door," the girl looked about her, searching for the key. "I know I left it around here somewhere." she muttered.
There was a flash of light as Kurt teleported into the room. A wisp of smoke curled up to the ceiling, testimony to the young boys mutanagenic gift. The trademark scent of Brimstone filled the air.
He flashed her a grin. "I don't use doors."
Rogue scowled and rested her hands on her hips, feigning annoyance. "Hey hairball! Did I let you in? I might have been naked for Gad's sake!"
Kurt's raven eyebrows rose heavenward. "Yeah, I wish!"
She gave an exasperated groan, picking up her hairbrush from the desk and throwing it in his direction. He gave a startled cry but dodged it easily. She hadn't aimed to hit - she knew that he had only been joking. Suppressing a giggle, she shook her head and turned back to the mirror, draping a lavender coloured scarf over her bare shoulders.
"Hey! You look great!" Kurt told her enthusiastically, regaining his composure from the hairbrush attack, "Really good!"
Despite herself, Rogue felt her cheeks darken self-consciously. She shrugged. "Thanks. I bought it from the mall the other day but I hadn't had a chance to try it on yet."
"It suits you," he told her earnestly, seating himself on the edge of her bed. He looked about him curiously, dark eyes roving the room. "I see you've made your presence felt," he commented, pointing to the posters on the walls, "I bet Kitty was just loves them."
The gothic beauty snorted. "Its an ongoing battle."
Kurt looked doubtfully over to Kitty's side of the room. "Are you two getting along any better yet?"
"Just dandy," she grimaced
The dark haired boy sighed and shook his head. "Stupid me for asking."
Rogue laughed fondly. "Stupid you."
There was a momentary silence as they smiled warmly at each other, a look of understanding passing between them.
Kurt was the first to speak, rising from the bed as he did so. "So are you ready to get going? The movie starts at half past."
She nodded and, retrieving the key from her dresser, went to unlock the door. Kurt's eyes rested on her naked shoulders, a slight frown furrowing his brow. He tilted his head enquiringly. "Aren't you going to bring a jacket?" He held his own coat folded over his arm. "It's going to get cold later."
Rogue shrugged. She was wearing a tight black vest top that flattered her slender figure. Rogue was by no means vain, but she was well aware of how the affect would be ruined if she donned a jacket. "Nah, I'll be fine like this."
The boy's mouth opened as if he were going to press the point, but he seemed to think better of it. Running his hands through his raven hair, he followed his friend as they walked out of the door, a set of car keys jangling in his trousers pocket.
"Okay, but I'm driving."
Hidden to the main road by the thick tangle of trees, the car purred to a halt in the narrow dirt path. The ignition died, and the side door opened, the driver stepping cautiously out onto the grass. She looked about her to ensure that she was alone. Satisfied that this was the case, she closed the car door behind her, and walked to the side of the path. There was a gap in the dense foliage that looked out onto a nearby beach, the ocean sparkling gold in the sunset. She approached it slowly, almost hesitantly, batting a low-lying branch out of her way with a manicured hand.
Had she been a romantic, she might have perhaps stopped for a moment to enjoy the scenery. It was a beautiful summer evening. The vaulted sky was stained a rainbow wash of pastel hues, the western horizon glowing coral pink with the setting sun. The oppressive heat of the day had given way to the fresh cool of dusk and a warm breeze was blowing in from the ocean. It really was awe-inspiring.
However, time and experience had hardened her to such sentiments, and her dark eyes found no pleasure in the beauty around her. Instead, her gaze fixed itself on the nearby building. It was set just beyond the bay, built on the land above a cliff face.
The Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters.
A whisper of a breeze ran through her fiery red hair. She stared at the building for a long time, lost in thought, her expression impossible to read. She had come to this place often in the past. To think. To plan. To be alone with her grief.
She had much to grieve over.
But that was not her purpose in coming here tonight. There was something that she needed to do, but a part of her doubted if she had the courage. A cold stab of fear gripped her stomach. She would have ever admitted it to anybody, but she was afraid. Terrified. She had everything to lose.
But she couldn't live with her sorrow anymore, the pain of knowing that she had lost them both forever. She had lived in agony for over sixteen years now.she couldn't bear it any longer.
She closed her eyes and sighed heavily. A single tear, hot and unashamed, slid silently down her sapphire cheek.
It was time to tell the truth.
Noiselessly, she turned and walked to her car.
Charles Xavier sat at his desk in the security of the book-lined office. The evening newspaper lay open in front of him, but he paid it no attention. His fingers were steeple under his chin, and his eyes were closed. Somewhere in the room, a clock ticked ominously, like a mechanical heartbeat.
His brown eyes slid open suddenly and he seemed to waken from his trance. He sat motionless for a moment, his forehead creased in a frown of deep meditation.
~Mystique? What are you doing here? ~
He reached out with his thoughts. Even with his formidable telepathic powers, Mystique remained something of a mystery. Her mind was closed to him. On the very rare occasions that he had been able to probe her memories, it had lasted only momentarily before she was able to regain control. He sensed her guarded presence now.
~Let me in, Charles. There are matters that we need to discuss. ~
He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
~You know that I can't do that. I will not endanger the lives of the students here. ~
He felt a growing sense of anger and frustration.and something else. She hid her emotions well, but he could swear that he sensed a feeling of desperation.
~I have not come here to fight, with you, or your X Men. I have come to talk.about the boy. ~
Professor Xavier's frown deepened. This was an unprecedented move . There was very little doubt in his mind that Mystique was the mother of Nightcrawler. The memories Rogue had absorbed proved that. But Mystique had allegiance with Magneto -or at least she had formally had - and demonstrated no interest in perusing a relationship with Kurt.
Why was she here? And why now?
Leaning forward, he pressed a button on the side of his desk. Outside the mansion, the security gates opened.
~Alright, Mystique. You may enter. ~