By Saturnian Blonde
Standard Questionably Useful Disclaimer: Marvel owns all rights to characters, names, etc. No profit is being made from use of anything. Yet.
Rating: PG-13
Comments: Does anyone want to be a Beta reader?
So, I've had a couple questions about who it is…. (YAY! People care!) and I promise you, you'll learn most of it later on, I think after this chapter. I hope that the character is believable, not a Mary-Sue, yadi yadi yada. I'm actually taking an actual person in the X-Men universe and adding to her story, because she doesn't really have one. (They killed her off so early!) I doubt that anyone will be able to guess who it could be, not until much later in the story. It's really obscure.
Anyways, so about her powers… without actually giving it away, I'll give you a hint: Think Mystique.
Chapter TWOFUUUUCCCKKK.
I swear on mother's grave that I saw him, the guy from the mansion with the claws. Considering that he lives in New York, and this isn't New York, there's no coincidence in him being here. I looked back to Lena, who was apparently asking me something.
"Um… yeah, sorry. I guess I'm just tired." I looked back over to where I saw him; he was gone. "You know what, I'm headin' home. Wanna come with?" I asked with suggestive eyebrows. She only laughed, as did I. "Stay here, enjoy yourself. I'll see you tomorrow, then." She leaned in and kissed me again, touching my cheek lightly.
"Love you." She whispered into my ear, and I smiled. Only she could make me forget all these damn problems. I said my goodbyes to the bartender, Jake, and went to grab my coat.
I couldn't see that guy anywhere, which was starting to worry me. Had I really seen him, or am I just feeling guilty? I rubbed my head as I picked up my long coat, and walked out into the cold night. I shivered as I pulled up the hood and walked down the street to the subway. I regretted not driving tonight, but I hated finding parking. I didn't have cash on me for a taxi, only the check for working. I shifted my powers again, to make me invisible at my command. I knew something was going to happen. I looked over my shoulder and saw two people tailing me.
I was doomed.
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Remy and Bobby followed her, while the others followed them in the car. Kurt was following her from ahead, transporting and pretending to just be another person on the street.
She seemed much smaller than before, her long coat hiding her. She had her hood pulled over her hair, and she managed to blend in rather well, if not for the fact that they had three eyes on her, they may have lost her already. She turned a corner, and they sped up a little, uneasy to find her out of their sight. When the looked past the corner, she had almost disappeared, now running down the street, her coat flapping in the wind as she abruptly ducked down an alley.
When they finally caught up, Kurt had managed to grab her and pull her into the alley, but she still fought his grasp. Remy grabbed her shoulder.
"Chère, stop fighting! We jus' want t' talk!" She narrowed her eyes, and brought her foot up to kick him in the stomach. Managing to twist Kurt's arm off of her, she pushed him away, and turned invisible.
"Just want to talk?! God damn it, Remy LeBeau, if you just wanted to talk, why the hell couldn't you just pick up the fuckin' phone, like normal people!" A voice called from the shadows. It was a dead end, and the three guys made it almost impossible to slip past them.
"Ve just vant to ask you a couple qvestions!" Kurt called out to her.
"Was that before or after you decided to follow me, at night, might I add, scare the living shit out of me, and then jump me in a dark alley?" The voice, now sounding a little panicked, had moved again. It seemed closer. Remy's arm snaked out, and in a moment, he held a struggling girl against his chest.
"Damn it, chère, stop dis. We just want t' know who you workin' for. Dem files can't get into certain hands."
"I ain't workin' for no one! Let me go…" She said. Something in her voice, in her eyes, had changed, and she quit fighting against him so vehemently. She finally saw the others, Jean and Logan, standing at the mouth of the alley, and when her eyes met Logan's she absolutely froze.
"Who are you working for?" He growled, advancing on her.
"No one!" She cried, shaking now. Logan was about to pop his claws, but Jean stopped him.
"Logan, don't! She's telling the truth." She spoke up. Annika, or rather, London, stood there limply, still being held by Remy. She looked absolutely terrified, and something else as well. Jean tried getting some surface impressions from her, but couldn't seem to find her. When London looked at her, and must have realized what was going on, Jean seemed to get everything. Her mind seemed so open, with relatively no shields. The sheer amount of data, though, flooded her mind to the point where she couldn't think straight, and she pulled away just as quickly.
"If we let you go, will you talk to us?" She asked her. London hesitated for a moment, almost saying no. Logan took another step towards her, and she withdrew even more.
"F-fine." She said in a small voice, defeated. Remy let her go, and she backed away from them, her arms wrapped around herself.
"Is there somewhere we can go to talk?" Bobby provided, and most of them either looked to London or to Jean or Logan.
"I-……. I have an… apartment," She offered. Most of them looked stunned that she had spoken, never the less offered a place to go. That it was her apartment even more. Bobby glanced at her; she looked… he couldn't tell, either ashamed or reluctant, like she was trapped either way. Her expression made her seem so small, innocent, that he had to remind himself that this was the girl who had broken into the mansion.
"That would be wonderful." Jean smiled. London almost smiled back, but didn't. She walked past them, back out to the alley, leading them to her home.
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She unlocked the door, entering the dark room and turning on the lights. She had a rather large apartment in the middle of downtown Toronto, something that in itself indicated that she had money, or at least had ways of getting it. It was a large apartment, with ceiling to floor windows that opened out to a small balcony and looked out past the CN Tower. Most of the apartment was open, the kitchen and living room together and separated by a counter and glass cabinets. Off to the left was a bathroom and her room. The room was modest; perhaps because she liked it like that, or maybe that she didn't normally live here much.
She let them enter, and locked the door behind them. Jean and Bobby sat down on the couch, Logan took a chair by the window, and Kurt and Remy sat on stools by the counter. Sprawled over most of the surface were dozens of pages with notes on them, thick textbooks on Genetics and Anatomy, and her laptop was open with some document on the screen.
She stood there, unsure of what to say. "Would you like something to drink?"
"That would be lovely." London went to the kitchen, making tea for Jean and Kurt, a glass of water for Bobby. Logan watched her carefully. She took her coat off and hung it up in the closet, and Logan finally got to see her in the light, fully, without darkness or strobe lights or bulky combat clothing. She was small, not chubby but not thin. She didn't look older than 16, but he knew she had to be closer to 20. Those strange tattoos down her neck actually went around her face and forehead before going down her neck and underneath her shirt. Now that he saw it, they actually ran down the sides of her legs as well. Instead of lines and circles, though, they were veins.
He looked instead to her actions, noticing how she bit her lip as she opened the fridge, how she went about taking glasses from the cupboards, how she discretely found a bottle of vodka and took another shot when she thought no one was looking.
She returned with a tray, and set it on the coffee table.
(You look like you're going to attack her, Logan.) a voice in his head spoke.
(Jean, get out of my head.)
He blinked and looked up, seeing London, or Annika, or whatever her name is, offering him a beer.
"Peace offering?" She asked as he took it. He could practically smell her fear, how nervous she was around him. Well, it wasn't his fault she broke in and stole something.
"Thanks." He said half heartedly, taking the cold bottle from her hand. She visibly recoiled away from him, and he thought he heard a telepathic sigh in his head, but let it go.
"So, what's your name?" Kurt asked. Logan could have slapped himself.
"Jessie Langford."
"Yo' real name," Remy added, grinning charmingly. She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms as she leaned against a wall.
"London. London Sikorba. "
"How old are you?" He pressed further.
"19," she said, questioning eyes shining back to him.
"Where were you on the night of Thursday, March 23?" She choked, looking at Kurt as if he had grapes growing out of his ears. She laughed lightly.
"Well, I'm Jean Grey, and this is Bobby Drake, Logan, and Kurt Wagner." She said, indicating to each person in turn. "I assume you already know Remy."
"Unfortunately." She said. He looked hurt for a moment before he grinned, and she stuck her tongue out at him.
"Chère, you haven't changed."
"You used to be a good hacker, too. I can't believe you screwed up on a simple command like that…"
"You knew?"
"'Course! I only designed that whole program, of course I know whenever anyone accesses it… you really botched it up. I thought I taught you better. 'Spike, then send.', did I not drill that into your head enough? "
"What 'bout you, chère? Setting dat silent alarm on your way out o' de mansion? Smooth…"At that she blushed lightly, and hung her head. Her arm absently dropped to hover over her hip, where Logan knew he had caught her with his claws.
"So get to the point of why you're here." She said defensively, and looked to Remy pointedly. Jean spoke up instead.
"We were just hoping to get the information returned. The info, as you must know, is of a very delicate nature, and we must ensure that you don't have ulterior motives."
"It never left your computer."
"Pardon?"
"Just as I said. I didn't take the information out of the computer. It's still there. hidden and encrypted."
"Still at de mansion?"
"I may have taught you everything you know, LeBeau, but I haven't taught you everything I know."
"You have no copies?" Jean asked, and she shook her head.
"I looked for what I needed, I learned it, I left." She scoffed. "Honestly, I'm not stupid. How was I to know you wouldn't just come and kill me when you found out I did it? I didn't, so I made sure you still needed me alive," she glared poignantly at Logan, "If it came to that."
"But you did copy everything from Muir Island." Jean said. London looked at her, face blank. She nodded.
"She was doing research on recombinant DNA and mutancy. I needed access to that information, and it was more than I would have been able to store just by looking at it."
"Why would you need info on that?" Jean asked, curiosity piqued.
"I won't answer that." London turned her gaze away from her, turning instead to stare at the carpet. Jean tried to pry again, and could only sense a growing urgency for the information, not a desire to give it away. Well, she's telling the truth…
"Will you come back to New York with us? We need you to unlock those files, as soon as possible."
"What, now?" She snapped up, her eyes flashing with something.
"Can you see a better time?" London looked at her watch, mind furiously trying to come up with an excuse, but drawing blanks.
"Oh….. fine. But I can go right after? I'm not going to be jumped again? I'll never see you again?" She looked at each person, who after a nod from jean, all agreed. London sighed, leaving back against the wall. "Fine." She mumbled.
Kurt, Bobby and Remy left to get the BlackBird while London rummaged around the counter arranging the scattered papers and books. Packing her laptop away in a messengerbag, she grabbed a few personal items out of her room, and something else off of the balcony.
Just as they were about to leave the phone rang. London picked it up, and winced. Looking to the door, she turned away, and spoke in Russian. Logan watched in the doorway. She seemed to be trying to explain something. Probably where she's disappearing to at 3 in the morning. Her voice turned pleading before he guessed the person hung up on her, for she stared at the phone for a second, confused and pained. She set the phone back on the cradle, and looked at it for a moment, before remembering where she was going. She picked up her coat and her purse, and along with her small bag, she locked the door and left.
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I'm evil… so there's your first view into London. (man, I love that name!) Tell me what you think…