Note: I read your question about why was Victor stalking Ororo. I was going to answer it, but it just didn't
fit in this part. It's not like it is along answer. I just rather answer it in the fic just in case someone else
reads it and wonders about that also.

Ororo threw the covers off of herself, and quickly jumped out of bed.
She vaguely remembered fainting on the street, while deciding whether to follow *him*.
Remembering the scene she'd made at the bar she looked at her palms, which were bandaged and no
longer aching so badly.
She kept calm, and examined the room she was in. It was small with little furniture. The room had one
window, and judging by the light that was coming in through it; the time was early evening.
There were two doors.
She opened the one closest to her, opposite the window. It lead out into the rest of what she now knew was
an apartment. Behind the other door was a bathroom with another door on the other side. After splashing
her face with water she opened it. It too led out into the apartment. She exited the bathroom stepping into
the den.
There was a dirty brown couch, a small television, and a counter that separated the den from the kitchen.
Ororo was alone in the apartment. If *he* had intended to hurt her wouldn't he have done it already? Not
fearing for her safety, she let her thoughts turn to her stomach. Goddess she was hungry, and was that
food she smelled? She followed her nose into the kitchen.
Her eyes landed on the bucket of chicken sitting on the stove. Only taking the time to smell it first, a habit
she picked up when she was at home back in Cairo, she jumped up on the counter, legs folded Indian style
with the bucket in her lap.
When Victor approached the apartment door he heard the moving around inside. It was about
time. She had been sleep for under twenty hours. He had spent most of that time waiting for the tenant to
come home.
He'd just come from disposing of the body and almost all evidence that the man had lived there, including
his dog. One thing he did keep was the guy's car. He needed that to ensure that he dumped the body parts
and got back before the girl woke up.
When Victor turned the door knob, and entered the apartment, he was surprised to see her staring at him
from her seat on the counter top, eating the chicken that the man had brought home with him.
He tossed the keys on the couch, and went into the bathroom. He rinsed the blood from his hands, flushing
the toilet for good measure. When he came out her eyes fixed on him again. Victor ignored her, walking
past her and looking in the refrigerator to see what the poor guy left him. 'What the hell kinda guy drinks
Zima? What the hell kinda person drinks that shit?' he thought, shifting them so that he could see what
else there was. There was nothing that he was interested in at the moment. He turned around to see that
Ororo had shifted herself so that she could watch Victor some more. She cocked an eyebrow at him and
held out the bucket to him.
He took it from her. She observed as he took a bite and swallowed it without chewing. He leaned on the
refrigerator staring back at her.
"Who are you?" She asked. He could hear her accent clearly for the first time.
"My name is Victor."
They ate in silence for a while before she asked her next question, "So are you a mutant or what?"
He nodded.
"You were in the military?" She gestured to his dog tags.
"CIA."
"What's your name?" He asked, although he already knew.
"I am Ororo." She scooted off of the counter, and stretched. "Do you mind if I take a shower?"
He gestured toward the bathroom.
She nodded, unbraiding her hair and letting it fall down her back.
Seconds later he heard the shower come on.
It gave Ororo the creeps that she kept running into the guy when they were at the beach, and now
she'd literally ran into him again. What were the chances? He seemed nice enough though. He'd saved
her from those hicks. Who knows what they would have done. She'd leave in the morning.
~~
Ororo had changed into a pair of grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt. Feeling thirsty, she went to the
refrigerator and got a Zima.
She looked at the label as she sat across the couch from Victor. She shrugged, and tried to open it. The
cuts on her hands opened up again, and she flinched. She handed it to Victor and he opened it for her.
"Thank you." she pressed her palms against the cold glass and after taking a sniff she took a drink.
"Mm!" She covered her mouth with one hand, and gulped. Her eyes were open wide, and her eyebrows
were raised to her hairline.
"That. Is. Terrible."
Victor laughed loudly, making the chair shake.
Ororo looked at Victor in indignation. Her eyes whited over and in the time it took Victor to sober up, a
rain cloud appeared over his head. It started to drizzle.
A look of surprise crossed Victor's face than disappeared quickly, "That's all you got?"
Ororo tried her hardest to make it pour on his smug head, but the drizzling was turning into drips, and the
cloud was starting to shrink.
She pouted, and Victor cackled at her again.
"Since you find my lack of control over my powers so amusing, perhaps I should compensate with control
over the television." She snatched the remote from him, turning from a channel somewhere in the
mid-nineties to a news program.
"...late twenties found dead, a half mile outside of Annapolis. Time of death was estimated at 5:20
yesterday. A grisly combination of teeth, claw, and knife wounds, cover the victim's upper arms, face,
torso, and thighs. Sources say the mutilation technique matches that of over fifteen others from
Connecticut to Virginia..."
"And they call us freaks. I'll bet they find a way to blame this on 'homo superior'."
Victor grunted, leaning forward and changing the tv back to the Playboy channel.

TBC

Victor gone soft? Don't count on it.