DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters from 'Mutant X'. They're not
my property. They belong to Tribune Entertainment.
***
*********
Sitting on the bench with her left hand shoved into the yellow paper bag, Emma crossed her legs and observed the duration of the day in front of her. This month had finally given the sun a chance to shine in all its glory: no clouds, no fog, nothing. Pulling out a flowery shaped chocolate cookie, she put it in her mouth and as the taste of what did not seem like artificial flavoring was being picked up inside, Emma smiled.
She saw a small girl with braided black hair, nearly hanging by her mother's dress with her tiny fingers as she begged. "Please, mummy! Please, please, pleaseeeee!"
"For the last time, Simone, I said: no." The mother, a tall woman with a big belly, no doubt pregnant, was trying to remove her daughter's hands from the pink dress. "You'll be getting a little brother in four months and I don't want a dog around the house during that time."
"But I want one! Please!!" the little girl was obviously thinking of tricking her mother with a winning formula of attempted hysteria in the middle of the park.
Getting another cookie, Emma let out a quiet giggle to this girl's little game. She received the idea of helping to persuade the mother's mind but she soon shook that proposal off. "She has enough problems as it is, Simone will have to wait a little longer," Emma told herself. Picking up the tiny daughter, the pregnant woman walked away from the Psionic's view, leaving a plain and funny memory behind.
Taking in a deep breath, she then stood up and began walking. It had been an enjoyable Saturday morning, two weeks after the day when it had rained with such aggressiveness that one would think the sky was pouring down some of its anger on the ground.
Her feet then slowed down their pace, until she finally stopped. Her senses received a long disappearing presence which she missed and it suddenly hit them like a flash or bolt of lightning. Being disabled from taking in air for three short seconds, Emma's mouth slightly opened, letting the wet skin on her lips to be dried hurriedly by the gentle Sunday breeze.
She gazed over at the old tree to her right and noticed a tall figure passing by it, their head covered by the brown branches with flattering green leaves. Emma was unexpectedly rooted to the gray pavement; the startling feeling which overcame her was keeping her firmly in place, not letting her make a single movement. It had been so long; more than just one year since she had felt that presence and it pinched her heart to hurry its thumping inside her chest; for the pulse rate to intensify and allow the feeling of the blood pumping inside her body to become more noticeable, to signal a change caused by her mind. Emma hoped he would stop, she didn't have the ability to run over to him, and her body was ignorant to her will.
He stopped precisely at that spot before his face was to be revealed behind the last branch rich with leaves. The swift thought of perhaps sensing her wish had come to mind but that could not have been the reason as Emma had done no such thing. Or had she?
Turning around, the man started walking towards the small trash bin to throw a can inside. When his face was revealed, Emma felt the moment running through her body like water, due to the rising excitement she felt; this time her feet had summoned up the courage to obey the orders from her brain as she slowly but steadily begun walking towards him.
When he threw the can inside the bin, Brennan barely made a 90-degrees-turn when his eyes noticed the small redhead walking towards him, trying desperately to hide her wide smile. "God..... Emma....." he spoke quietly and with fast steps approached her.
They both stopped with a two feet distance between them. "I didn't know you were here," he said, the sudden discovery flaring from his eyes.
"I could say the same about you," she could not conceal her smile - proof of the emotion that was absorbing her with the knowledge of his occurrence in this small town.
"I came to see a friend who I thought lived here but he'd moved out....." the importance of the unsuccessful visit was receiving an uninterested treatment from him as he was standing in front of his dearest friend after such a long time. "You live here?" he asked her.
"Yes, a nice change..... its not home but at least its hospitable," she replied and nodded once.
"No explosions or anything?" he joked.
"Nope, sound as a whistle..... well, at night anyway," she somehow joked back.
Brennan chuckled and as if on signal, both mutants stepped forward closer and embraced each other tightly. The memory of their last farewell vanishing with their warm arms around their bodies, gripping them powerfully; the last time these two people spoke was not surrounded with sobbing hugs and endless conversations..... it was short and one might even say bitter. Perhaps now that was being replaced by the fondness discovered from their sightings; with so much distance created by time and painful memories, keeping them apart, letting their minds accept the forgiving feelings and dispatch the resentful ones.
Or perhaps not......
*********
She kicked the punching bag hard with her left leg. She did not want to sweat today, but her need of exercise had been stronger, forming a will to stand up and give her body the movement it needed and resume her active life for some time. Shalimar missed the dojo; it had given her so many possibilities to train: try new movements, improve them, and bring back old ones. Now, she had only this big cylinder-shaped black punching bag with some yellow letters, being nearly erased from the extensive usage. Another high leg kick and two fists flew angrily into the hard bag as it soundlessly swung some inches from its original position as a response, accepting her blows. The Feral kept that tempo for ten more minutes until her body had signaled her that she needed rest; two hours of this created arid thirst inside her. She obeyed this and stopped, giving herself a longer time to rest against the wall.
Going into the kitchen, she took out a bottle of cold ice tea. Touching her sweaty forehead with the icy surface of the glass bottle, she nearly wiped off the sweat, feeling the icy effects clashing with her burning body heat. Shalimar then opened the bottle and steadily began to drink the liquid and felt it going on its course through her body, gradually cooling it off. When she was finished, she put the bottle on the counter, not letting go of it while her other hand, forming a fist, rested on that curve above her left hip.
She thought about last night when she and Brennan began discussing the traveling plan to Washington only for her to later discover that he had wanted to go on his own and maybe to some other destination. Perhaps she didn't know Dimitri but that was not a good reason for her to stay behind. Shalimar even questioned herself whether there had been another motive hidden behind that visit, but she quickly shouted inside her to get rid of such thoughts in her head. Brennan would never go with another woman like that behind her back; sure he was a 'ladies' man' but not the kind who would commit acts of adultery, all those years spent back at Sanctuary with him did teach her that.
Shalimar remembered the level to which his voice was raised. She wasn't completely indignant of such confrontations as Emma had been but she was not a fan of them. This had been one of the many quarrels she and Brennan shared ever since their romance had 'blossomed'. But no relationship is immune to them, it's inescapable for them to appear sooner or later, with some more frequently while with others rarely.
They were both impulsive; she would remember how they could end up in a huge heated discussion about some things quite easily, but they always dealt with it in the end with descending calmness. Each side wanting to be right and it did not help when the stubbornness would kick in. Shalimar sometimes commended Emma for having the ability to restrain the anger and keep her calm exterior much longer than the Feral, despite their similar meditating exercises. It was of little wonder that Brennan would choose to talk his frustrations out with the Psionic instead of her most of the time. But then again, Emma and Brennan did have accesses to a small place of familiarity for them, something only those two understood and were willing to share.
This reminded Shalimar of Jesse; she hadn't heard from him in 10 months and if she were honest to herself she missed him, she missed her little brother. She missed her teasing and comforting which, to her delight, only she could offer to him. It felt good to feel special to someone, so much appreciated by one person when the others, despite their willing attempts, had been far from successful. It hadn't been very different from Brennan; he did give her this feeling of feminine uniqueness most of the time and she loved it, but there had been moments when the delicate voice and simply the listening with the heart were memories which she wanted to relieve. Shalimar did try to contact him four days ago through her ring, hoping for a response but there had been none; she had tried several times through different ways but she was met with failure.
She then swallowed something rough inside her throat. Unwillingly she had begun to notice the unsettling growth of conflicting feelings inside Brennan, the regular appearance of distance, iciness.
It is only a phase - a feeling of comfort would sweep through her worried mind as a broom, removing dust.
In March, she and Brennan even returned for a brief visit to Sanctuary, hoping to see Jesse and Emma but they met no one familiar except the few individuals that worked secretly on the reconstructions of the place. The visit resulted to a silent ride to their apartment, not only due to the failure of seeing their friends but also some of the other memories this damned place had brought.
She knew Brennan had missed Emma as much as she had missed Jesse and she did not blame him; it was difficult to be separated from that someone who knew your worst and good sides to such perfection it could easily make you sick in the stomach. She didn't mind, it was nice for someone to understand you..... an understanding grown from years of closeness. Shalimar could know that it had been this, among other things that kept Brennan and Emma to a closer link than the others. He too had been at times irritated even though not as much as Shalimar, to the lack of communication with the Psionic.
She had felt baffled about their strange farewell one year and 14 days ago, quite opposite of what she and Jesse had expected. She questioned Brennan about that oddness but he'd only replied that it had been a moment of infamous idiocy from his side, a miserable failure of situation handling, and way before their departure, which if he only trusted his instincts, could have been easily avoided.
Her thoughts did venture over to Emma as well. Shalimar had missed their girly chats, their long stays in the night, even casual confiding to one another. She was a good friend, Shalimar thought to herself and she missed her. If she only knew where Emma had been staying and Jesse for that matter, it would have made the fixing of the engagement of so many needed conversations easier.
Yes, Shalimar did talk occasionally to Susanna, a friendly woman from Italy with a few extra pounds who lived just at the other side of the street; and then there was Eli, the always so talkative neighbor, forever worried about loosing her contact lenses, who never seemed to displace Shalimar's astonishment at the ability of this woman to be almost never empty with words. The Feral had talked with these women she had grown to consider as friends but it hadn't been the same as with Emma or Jesse. Good thing for Brennan..... he was still here at least. She still had him to lean on. It was because of him that Shalimar did not go with Jesse, despite the Molecular's wish to remain by himself. She loved Brennan, she knew that..... but to which extended did she experience that feeling?
There was a sigh, as Shalimar took another sip of the tea and then returned the bottle back in the refrigerator. She should push herself to enter into a jogging routine for the next few hours. She did not need relaxing, easy exercises right now, they would drive her insane.
When she began running on the surprisingly empty sidewalk with only a few pedestrians, thoughts of last night started reappearing again. It had been an argument very distant from enjoyable. They had gone at it for what seemed like 20 or so minutes until finally Shalimar and Brennan got tired of it and settled it in their own physical way - in the bedroom. And it had been an enormously enjoyable experience afterwards. Which brought a sad fact of truth over to her realization: their sexual experience was always more spiced up and closer to greatness when they would bring the anger from before into it. Not to let the gentle nights of love making be missed but these first ones had somehow been more deeply written into the mutants' memory. Shaking her head, the Feral picked up her pace and started running faster; she needed to sweat more.
*********
***
*********
Sitting on the bench with her left hand shoved into the yellow paper bag, Emma crossed her legs and observed the duration of the day in front of her. This month had finally given the sun a chance to shine in all its glory: no clouds, no fog, nothing. Pulling out a flowery shaped chocolate cookie, she put it in her mouth and as the taste of what did not seem like artificial flavoring was being picked up inside, Emma smiled.
She saw a small girl with braided black hair, nearly hanging by her mother's dress with her tiny fingers as she begged. "Please, mummy! Please, please, pleaseeeee!"
"For the last time, Simone, I said: no." The mother, a tall woman with a big belly, no doubt pregnant, was trying to remove her daughter's hands from the pink dress. "You'll be getting a little brother in four months and I don't want a dog around the house during that time."
"But I want one! Please!!" the little girl was obviously thinking of tricking her mother with a winning formula of attempted hysteria in the middle of the park.
Getting another cookie, Emma let out a quiet giggle to this girl's little game. She received the idea of helping to persuade the mother's mind but she soon shook that proposal off. "She has enough problems as it is, Simone will have to wait a little longer," Emma told herself. Picking up the tiny daughter, the pregnant woman walked away from the Psionic's view, leaving a plain and funny memory behind.
Taking in a deep breath, she then stood up and began walking. It had been an enjoyable Saturday morning, two weeks after the day when it had rained with such aggressiveness that one would think the sky was pouring down some of its anger on the ground.
Her feet then slowed down their pace, until she finally stopped. Her senses received a long disappearing presence which she missed and it suddenly hit them like a flash or bolt of lightning. Being disabled from taking in air for three short seconds, Emma's mouth slightly opened, letting the wet skin on her lips to be dried hurriedly by the gentle Sunday breeze.
She gazed over at the old tree to her right and noticed a tall figure passing by it, their head covered by the brown branches with flattering green leaves. Emma was unexpectedly rooted to the gray pavement; the startling feeling which overcame her was keeping her firmly in place, not letting her make a single movement. It had been so long; more than just one year since she had felt that presence and it pinched her heart to hurry its thumping inside her chest; for the pulse rate to intensify and allow the feeling of the blood pumping inside her body to become more noticeable, to signal a change caused by her mind. Emma hoped he would stop, she didn't have the ability to run over to him, and her body was ignorant to her will.
He stopped precisely at that spot before his face was to be revealed behind the last branch rich with leaves. The swift thought of perhaps sensing her wish had come to mind but that could not have been the reason as Emma had done no such thing. Or had she?
Turning around, the man started walking towards the small trash bin to throw a can inside. When his face was revealed, Emma felt the moment running through her body like water, due to the rising excitement she felt; this time her feet had summoned up the courage to obey the orders from her brain as she slowly but steadily begun walking towards him.
When he threw the can inside the bin, Brennan barely made a 90-degrees-turn when his eyes noticed the small redhead walking towards him, trying desperately to hide her wide smile. "God..... Emma....." he spoke quietly and with fast steps approached her.
They both stopped with a two feet distance between them. "I didn't know you were here," he said, the sudden discovery flaring from his eyes.
"I could say the same about you," she could not conceal her smile - proof of the emotion that was absorbing her with the knowledge of his occurrence in this small town.
"I came to see a friend who I thought lived here but he'd moved out....." the importance of the unsuccessful visit was receiving an uninterested treatment from him as he was standing in front of his dearest friend after such a long time. "You live here?" he asked her.
"Yes, a nice change..... its not home but at least its hospitable," she replied and nodded once.
"No explosions or anything?" he joked.
"Nope, sound as a whistle..... well, at night anyway," she somehow joked back.
Brennan chuckled and as if on signal, both mutants stepped forward closer and embraced each other tightly. The memory of their last farewell vanishing with their warm arms around their bodies, gripping them powerfully; the last time these two people spoke was not surrounded with sobbing hugs and endless conversations..... it was short and one might even say bitter. Perhaps now that was being replaced by the fondness discovered from their sightings; with so much distance created by time and painful memories, keeping them apart, letting their minds accept the forgiving feelings and dispatch the resentful ones.
Or perhaps not......
*********
She kicked the punching bag hard with her left leg. She did not want to sweat today, but her need of exercise had been stronger, forming a will to stand up and give her body the movement it needed and resume her active life for some time. Shalimar missed the dojo; it had given her so many possibilities to train: try new movements, improve them, and bring back old ones. Now, she had only this big cylinder-shaped black punching bag with some yellow letters, being nearly erased from the extensive usage. Another high leg kick and two fists flew angrily into the hard bag as it soundlessly swung some inches from its original position as a response, accepting her blows. The Feral kept that tempo for ten more minutes until her body had signaled her that she needed rest; two hours of this created arid thirst inside her. She obeyed this and stopped, giving herself a longer time to rest against the wall.
Going into the kitchen, she took out a bottle of cold ice tea. Touching her sweaty forehead with the icy surface of the glass bottle, she nearly wiped off the sweat, feeling the icy effects clashing with her burning body heat. Shalimar then opened the bottle and steadily began to drink the liquid and felt it going on its course through her body, gradually cooling it off. When she was finished, she put the bottle on the counter, not letting go of it while her other hand, forming a fist, rested on that curve above her left hip.
She thought about last night when she and Brennan began discussing the traveling plan to Washington only for her to later discover that he had wanted to go on his own and maybe to some other destination. Perhaps she didn't know Dimitri but that was not a good reason for her to stay behind. Shalimar even questioned herself whether there had been another motive hidden behind that visit, but she quickly shouted inside her to get rid of such thoughts in her head. Brennan would never go with another woman like that behind her back; sure he was a 'ladies' man' but not the kind who would commit acts of adultery, all those years spent back at Sanctuary with him did teach her that.
Shalimar remembered the level to which his voice was raised. She wasn't completely indignant of such confrontations as Emma had been but she was not a fan of them. This had been one of the many quarrels she and Brennan shared ever since their romance had 'blossomed'. But no relationship is immune to them, it's inescapable for them to appear sooner or later, with some more frequently while with others rarely.
They were both impulsive; she would remember how they could end up in a huge heated discussion about some things quite easily, but they always dealt with it in the end with descending calmness. Each side wanting to be right and it did not help when the stubbornness would kick in. Shalimar sometimes commended Emma for having the ability to restrain the anger and keep her calm exterior much longer than the Feral, despite their similar meditating exercises. It was of little wonder that Brennan would choose to talk his frustrations out with the Psionic instead of her most of the time. But then again, Emma and Brennan did have accesses to a small place of familiarity for them, something only those two understood and were willing to share.
This reminded Shalimar of Jesse; she hadn't heard from him in 10 months and if she were honest to herself she missed him, she missed her little brother. She missed her teasing and comforting which, to her delight, only she could offer to him. It felt good to feel special to someone, so much appreciated by one person when the others, despite their willing attempts, had been far from successful. It hadn't been very different from Brennan; he did give her this feeling of feminine uniqueness most of the time and she loved it, but there had been moments when the delicate voice and simply the listening with the heart were memories which she wanted to relieve. Shalimar did try to contact him four days ago through her ring, hoping for a response but there had been none; she had tried several times through different ways but she was met with failure.
She then swallowed something rough inside her throat. Unwillingly she had begun to notice the unsettling growth of conflicting feelings inside Brennan, the regular appearance of distance, iciness.
It is only a phase - a feeling of comfort would sweep through her worried mind as a broom, removing dust.
In March, she and Brennan even returned for a brief visit to Sanctuary, hoping to see Jesse and Emma but they met no one familiar except the few individuals that worked secretly on the reconstructions of the place. The visit resulted to a silent ride to their apartment, not only due to the failure of seeing their friends but also some of the other memories this damned place had brought.
She knew Brennan had missed Emma as much as she had missed Jesse and she did not blame him; it was difficult to be separated from that someone who knew your worst and good sides to such perfection it could easily make you sick in the stomach. She didn't mind, it was nice for someone to understand you..... an understanding grown from years of closeness. Shalimar could know that it had been this, among other things that kept Brennan and Emma to a closer link than the others. He too had been at times irritated even though not as much as Shalimar, to the lack of communication with the Psionic.
She had felt baffled about their strange farewell one year and 14 days ago, quite opposite of what she and Jesse had expected. She questioned Brennan about that oddness but he'd only replied that it had been a moment of infamous idiocy from his side, a miserable failure of situation handling, and way before their departure, which if he only trusted his instincts, could have been easily avoided.
Her thoughts did venture over to Emma as well. Shalimar had missed their girly chats, their long stays in the night, even casual confiding to one another. She was a good friend, Shalimar thought to herself and she missed her. If she only knew where Emma had been staying and Jesse for that matter, it would have made the fixing of the engagement of so many needed conversations easier.
Yes, Shalimar did talk occasionally to Susanna, a friendly woman from Italy with a few extra pounds who lived just at the other side of the street; and then there was Eli, the always so talkative neighbor, forever worried about loosing her contact lenses, who never seemed to displace Shalimar's astonishment at the ability of this woman to be almost never empty with words. The Feral had talked with these women she had grown to consider as friends but it hadn't been the same as with Emma or Jesse. Good thing for Brennan..... he was still here at least. She still had him to lean on. It was because of him that Shalimar did not go with Jesse, despite the Molecular's wish to remain by himself. She loved Brennan, she knew that..... but to which extended did she experience that feeling?
There was a sigh, as Shalimar took another sip of the tea and then returned the bottle back in the refrigerator. She should push herself to enter into a jogging routine for the next few hours. She did not need relaxing, easy exercises right now, they would drive her insane.
When she began running on the surprisingly empty sidewalk with only a few pedestrians, thoughts of last night started reappearing again. It had been an argument very distant from enjoyable. They had gone at it for what seemed like 20 or so minutes until finally Shalimar and Brennan got tired of it and settled it in their own physical way - in the bedroom. And it had been an enormously enjoyable experience afterwards. Which brought a sad fact of truth over to her realization: their sexual experience was always more spiced up and closer to greatness when they would bring the anger from before into it. Not to let the gentle nights of love making be missed but these first ones had somehow been more deeply written into the mutants' memory. Shaking her head, the Feral picked up her pace and started running faster; she needed to sweat more.
*********