Disclaimer: Trent is mine, everything else is owned by people much richer and more creative than I. Don't sue, it's bad karma.
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Chapter 4
It takes a lot to scare a woman who has the power of flight, super-strength, is nearly invulnerable, drains any person who even tries to touch her, and who's been raised by terrorists--especially if that woman is from Mississippi and happens to be a superhero. Nevertheless, as Rogue watched Trent jerk her shoulder away from Rogue's helping hand, the Mississippi river rat felt a tremor of fear run down her spine. Trent's eyes were glowing an eery silver-blue color, and her mouth was bared in a snarl, showing an impressive pair of fangs; she was covered in blood, and the hand not clutching her bleeding shoulder was clawed and seemed to be ready to strike out at any moment. She looked for all the world like a desperate, dangerous wounded animal.
Okay, then, Rogue said softly, backing up from Trent while trying to seem like she wasn't really backing away.
Trent snarled. I'm fine, she snapped. Just... drop me off somewhere outside Reno, okay?
Storm overheard and shook her head. I don't think so, miss. I don't know who you are, but you helped us fight and you saved Wolverine's life--probably Nightcrawler's life as well-
Who the hell is Nightcrawler?
And she didn't save my life! growled Wolverine. I would have been just fine!
Storm said dryly. Look, ma'am-
The name is Trent.
Trent. My point is, you helped us out, and we're not going to just leave you here, no matter how unpleasant you try to be. We want to help you. You have a serious wound on your shoulder--will you at least let Rogue bandage it?
Trent met Storm's blue eyes, then looked away, growling a bit. Rogue, huh?
Rogue gulped and nodded. Yup. That'd be me.
Trent bared her teeth, and it was hard to tell whether she was grinning or grimacing. Then lead the way to wherever the hell it is you wanna take care of my
Trent studied Rogue as the woman carefully removed Trent's shirt (which was pretty much shredded, anyway) to better take care of her shoulder. Trent brushed Rogue's mind with her own, scanning the surface of the mutant's mind. She was beautiful, but didn't seem to know it--Trent could tell that from the way she carried herself and the look in her eyes, even if she hadn't been a mindreader. As it was, the girl's thoughts were mixed up and confused--she was curious about Trent, but scared, too, and not a little suspicious. There was a deep sadness underneath her thoughts of the previous battle and the job at hand. She'd loved someone deeply and lost them, and the memory was so intense and pain-filled that Trent hastily stopped scanning the girl's mind, a bit embarrassed to have stumbled over something so personal.
Rogue looked up sharply from bandaging Trent's shoulder, almost as if she'd realized what Trent was doing. Green eyes met blue, and Rogue was startled and the intensity and chill in her eyes--it was like looking into chips of Antarctic ice. Eyes like that made you want to just lie back and let her take over, let her do anything she wanted with you--eyes like that could freeze you and hold you and never let you go.
Rogue swallowed and tore her gaze from Trent's. she said, fighting to keep her voice casual. What was Kurt doing in your apartment? I assume that was your apartment, right?
Trent nodded. Yeah-oh fuck, I forgot! Where the hell is Kurt?! She struggled to get up, but Rogue placed one gentle, but iron-strong arm on her shoulder, forcing her to sit back down. Kurt's fine, sugah, she said. Jeannie's tendin' to
I forgot to tell you! Kurt's- A vomiting sound was heard from another room, followed by a scream from Jean.
Rogue's expression was caught between horror, amusement, and disgust. Apparently! Ah sure hope Jean brought a backup outfit.
Trent nodded. Uh-huh. Well, c'mon let's get back out to the rest of your li'l crew--I'm sure they're all dyin' to know about the bitchy newbie.
Oh no! With a wound like that you shouldn't move around too much, and besides, I saw you fighting--surely you have more wounds, I saw Wolvie tear into ya-
Do ya see any wounds, She was right: there was some traces of blood on her stomach, and traces of sweat on her hair and face, but other than her bandaged shoulder there wasn't a thing to suggest she'd just been fighting--not even a scratch.
That's odd, Rogue thought as she followed Trent out. Usually people who get speared through the gut by Wolvie have a little more to show for it.
Cyclops had recovered, with only a band-aid on his neck and a rather pale face to show for his encounter with a vampire. He was lounging in the bridge with Storm and Wolverine, who was still fuming about the fact that a broad had rescued him, and that his claws had had no effect on the creatures they'd been fighting. What the hell were those things, anyway? he growled, his claws *snikt*ing in and out of his hands in agitation. And why the flamin' hell didn't they stay dead?!
They were vampires, said Trent as she walked in, causing all three X-men to jump. Rogue followed her, leaning back against the wall to watch her teammates reaction to this... interesting woman.
Trent smirked at their obvious discomfort around her. Boo! she thought in her mind, giggling to herself. And to answer your second question, they didn't stay dead' because those lovely claws o' yours are about as hurtful to em as a fly landing on their shoulder--the only thing that can hurt them is wood. She bared her teeth at him, her eyes dancing in vicious laughter. One would think that an experienced, manly warrior like yourself would have figured that out.
Logan clenched his teeth and forced himself not to rise to her goading. Instead, his eyes were drawn to her stomach, pale and bare beneath her black sports bra. There was a faint sheen of sweat covering well-defined muscles, as well as a few traces of blood, but--nothing else. No wounds, no scrapes even, nothing to suggest that he'd speared her through--several times.
Trent noticed where his eyes were and smirked. Checkin' me out, Wolvie?' she said in his head, and laughed when he jumped. He glared murder at her baring his teeth in a threatening growl, but Trent only flipped her hair and batted her eyes flirtatiously, that annoying smirk still on her face. Logan wanted to claw it off.
Scott cleared his throat, regaining his leader' role. So, miss Raven--
He was interrupted by his fiancé, who walked into the room looking as if she wanted to murder anything that moved. The four X-men and Rogue stared at her, completely dumbfounded. Her hair was mussed and tangled, her eyes were wild, and she was covered, from neck down, in a sort of light blue, chunky fluid that smelled very much like semi-digested-and-then-expelled food.
Jean forced herself to breathe, counting to ten inside her mind to keep from screaming. Does anyone happen to have a spare costume, she said through gritted teeth, trying not to move and spread the vomit around any more.
A moment of silence passed, and then the X-men couldn't help themselves: they all burst out laughing, even Scott, though he tried (and failed) to keep it to a discreet chuckling. Sorry, sugah, said Rogue in between hoots of laughter, But ya shoulda thought o' that before we took off from Westchester, shouldn't ya?
If looks could kill, the X-men and Trent would have been no more. Jean whirled around and stomped off, muttering evil things about a certain furry elf. I think ya might wanna go calm down your girlie there, Cyke, sniggered Logan. As much as he--ahem--admired Jean, that was an image that would make him burst out laughing whenever he thought of it for months.
Scott grimaced and stood up, chasing after his wife before she did anything rash like throwing Kurt out of the Blackbird. Trent smirked and took a seat, followed by Rogue. She casually scanned the minds of the others in the room, learning their names, their team and their destination and little else--these two had strong mental shields, and if she went any further they would be aware of her presence, which wasn't something she wanted happening.
She leaned back in her chair, yawning and stretching her arms above her head, looking for all the world like a lazy cat. she said, scratching her neck languidly. Y'all are the X-men?
Storm blinked. She was certain they hadn't told her their team name--or had they? Suddenly she was unsure. Um, yes, she said. How did you know who we are?
Trent shrugged. I'm a fast learner, she said evasively, before changing the subject. So you're Storm, right? And this is Rogue, the chick covered in barf is Jean, the guy that followed her is Cyclops, and this charming gent is-- her voice dropped dramatically, her hands flourished in a presenting gesture-- the mighty Wolverine.
Logan glared, again resisting the urge to pop his claws and shish-kebob her. Ain't you a delightful person, he retorted. All of a sudden I can see why all those vampires' were so eager to rip yer head off.
Trent smiled, shrugging her shoulders as if to say What can I do?' What can I say, I was born charming.
In whose world are you charming,' darlin'?
Now, is that any way to speak to the dashing heroine who saved your life earlier?
You little--
Hold on a second. Logan's retort was interrupted by Storm. How did you know mine and Cyclops' name?
Trent blinked. You told me, she said as if speaking to the very dumb.
No I didn't!
Uh, yeah, ya did. You might wanna check that memory of yours, babe--or is amnesia your mutant power? Before Storm could answer that, Trent stood up, yawning again. Well, I'm off to check on that cute fuzzy guy that somehow ended up in my bedroom three days ago. Catch ya later! She left the X-men fuming, confused and wondering what she meant by ended up in her bedroom.' Could Kurt have-?
Nah. Not Kurt. He wouldn't!
...right?