Fallen Angels, Issue #3
Typical Day at the Mall
Paige chewed on her lip, hard, and thought about the science of what it was she wanted to do. Usually, that was how it worked. She had to think it through first, and then she just did it. If she thought about it while she was husking, it never helped her. It was a distraction. She had to feel it.
It wasn't exactly natural for her. But she was getting better and better.
There were some problems with living in this house. Not enough space, Jubilee's obnoxious music, Jean-Paul's fascist rule over the television, Bobby's moping. The way Kitty Pryde was acting like she was second-in-command all of a sudden. She'd only been around for a day, and already she was constantly with Kurt while he made his phone calls to various government agencies, or bothering Jean-Paul about what she needed to build some kind of insane computer system she insisted that they needed...
Who did she think she was, anyhow? It wasn't as if she hadn't designed the state of the art computer system at the Massachusetts Academy. And she'd wanted to be involved in the rest…
But, when it came right down to it... it was better than the mansion, any day. Less pressure, more action. She hadn't tried to improve on her husking in months, at Xavier's, just because there had always been something else to think about. But since she'd come to Chicago, she'd been working on it little by little. Every day, she got closer to what she knew she could do with her powers. At the moment, she was working on partial husking, and if she could just get the new form to somehow become seamless with her pre-existing epidermis, she would feel confident using it in a combat situation.
She knew she should probably tell someone what she was doing. It was dangerous; as Dr. McCoy had taught them in Biology, metamorphs were prone to shock in mid-transitional shapes if those states were disrupted. But it wasn't exactly a disruption, after all. It was an intentional partial transmogrification.
A knock at the door interrupted her efforts, however, and she looked down at the pile of skin she'd left on the floor, trying to figure out what to do with it if someone wanted to talk to her. "Who is it?" she asked finally.
"Your favorite roommate!"
She sighed, and unlocked the door to the room she shared with Jubilee, then opened it. "What?"
Jubilee arched an eyebrow at her and planted her hands on her hips. "Hello to you too. Let's go to the mall."
Paige could feel her brow furrow. "I'm busy."
"What are you doing in here?" Jubilee pushed past her with her usual lack of tact, and threw herself onto the bed they were sharing these days. She picked up the book that Paige had left there, and looked at the cover, then up at Paige. This time, with both eyebrows raised. "Born Normal?"
Refusing to allow the flush she felt entering her ears make her act foolish, Paige simply closed the door behind her, just in case, and leaned on it. "It's good to know about your teammates, Jubilee."
Her roommate looked unconvinced as she flipped through the book quickly. "I didn't even know JP wrote a book. Man, is he full of himself... what, he's like not even thirty yet and he has an autobiography?"
"He'll be thirty soon," Paige huffed at her, before she could stop herself.
Again, Jubilee looked up at her. And smirked. "Interesting reading?"
She shrugged, and tried to act casual. To be honest, she had found it to be fascinating reading. Jean-Paul Beaubier had been through some seriously damaging situations in his short life, and having read about them, she could actually understand what it was that made him such a complete asshole all the time. He wasn't really, after all, it was just the way he dealt with things. After their little "chat" over CNN, she'd gotten curious, found a copy of the book in the study, and brought it back to read... and finished it in one sitting. But his twice-orphaned beginnings, the story of his delinquent youth and his rescue from the streets by Belmonde, his time with the FLQ, his rise to fame as an Olympic skiier, discovering his powers, his sister, their ups and downs with Alpha Flight...
It honestly was interesting. His life had been hell, really. And he just seemed so... lonely.
But all she said was, "Yes, it's good. You should read it."
Jubilee rolled her eyes and put the book down unceremoniously. "No thanks. Think you can tear yourself away from the fascinating life of your, might I remind you, very gay teammate for long enough to go shopping? Logan sent me some money!"
"I wasn't reading. I was practicing," she said as she turned away to hide the flush that was coming into her cheeks now, and started hunting in the tiny closet for something she could wear out of the house. She didn't necessarily feel like going to the mall, but she would've done anything to get Jubilee off the subject at the moment.
It wasn't that she had a thing for Jean-Paul. He was insufferable, after all. Conservative and tight assed and... yeah. Gay.
She just thought she should get to know her teammates, was all.
"Practicing what?"
"Husking," she admitted, but quickly threw in, "Nothing big, just going through the motions."
"Oh yeah, so I see. Better clean up that pile, or Johnny will have kittens."
_______________________________________________________
Kurt sighed as he hung up the phone, his thick fingers lingering on the receiver.
"No luck?" Kitty asked him sympathetically.
"Nein. Things were simpler in England – we had only to approach WHO and everything fell into place," he complained, looking over at her. She was sitting at his side, pulling up information on various government agencies they needed to have sanction their activities, with emphasis on their metahuman policies, other teams they had sanctioned in the past and their complements, and their contact information – far more than he could have possibly pulled out of the computer by himself, not even taking into account the difficulty he had operating a keyboard. He had originally planned to ask Paige, but felt more comfortable with Kitty. Besides, it was keeping her here. And the longer she stayed, the more likely it was that she would stay.
Bad enough that, at least temporarily, she had to go back to her own apartment at night. But in all honesty, there wasn't enough room here.
Which reminded him…
"What time is the architect coming?" he asked suddenly, glancing at his wristwatch.
"In about fifteen minutes," she assured him, and he relaxed. Until he remembered that he had yet to go over the final floor plans with Jean-Paul.
"Has Jean-Paul –" he began, but Kitty interrupted him.
"When I last had the misfortune to bump into him, he told me, and I quote, "As long as you're playing messenger girl, please tell Kurt that he should just get on with it", Kitty said irritably. "What is it with that man? For all intents, he just met me yesterday, why does he hate me already?"
Kurt decided that the answer to that question was best left in the category of "things we are not going to talk about," and changed the subject instead.
"Well, have you talked to him about the system requirements?" he asked, paging through his notes as if looking for the info.
"Kind of. He's not sure he wants the – oh shit! How'd that happen?" she asked as he accidentally dumped the papers off the desk and onto the floor. "Here, I'll get that," she said, phasing through the desk and gathering up the papers.
Kurt grinned. Subject changed.
His grin faded as he realized that the papers he'd dumped were the ones he'd painstakingly arranged for his meeting with the architect.
Kitty resurfaced, plopping the papers in front of him on the desk, and sat back down to resume her computer search. As he began reordering the sheets, he could see her casting glances in his direction out of the corner of his eye, and hoped that the architect would show up before the inevitable confrontation commenced.
"Hey Kurt?" she said with forced casualness, and Kurt silently cursed the unforgivable tardiness of professionals when it came to keeping their appointments.
"Yes, Katzchen?" he asked innocently, still not looking up.
"Why'd you think you had to hide Bobby's being here from me?" she asked. Kurt was amazed. This calm question was the last thing he expected – until he looked up and saw the look in her eyes, saw that she was forcing herself to stay calm, casual, to act as if it didn't really matter.
He shrugged his shoulders, "I wanted you to come, and I wasn't sure if you would if you knew he was here," he admitted. There was more to it than that, of course. He honestly believed that the two of them would feel much better about things if they could become friends once again. They hadn't spoken since Genosha, as far as he knew, and they really needed the opportunity to work things out, if only to put their issues to rest.
"Damn sneaky of you, don't you think?" she countered. "Besides, it's ancient history, right? Why would I care? Bobby doesn't, anymore – he hardly had two words to say to me beyond 'Nice to see you'. We're adults, we're mature…"
Kurt nearly laughed, wondering if Kitty was truly that oblivious to the puppy-dog eyes Bobby was following her with, but knew that she probably was. Kitty never had realized just how much she meant to other people; himself included, though only as a friend. He suddenly realized he may have done an injustice here; not to Kit, but to Bobby. Herr Drake obviously had enough problems, and Kurt had unwittingly added another to the pile…
"Some would say that the words 'Bobby' and 'mature' should never be used in the same sentence," he joked instead, thinking that the word didn't exactly apply to Kitty's behavior over the whole situation, either.
"That's not fair," she argued. "Bobby's not half as immature as people think. If it hadn't been for him –"
"Things would have turned out far differently in Genosha, yes?" Kurt said, deciding that perhaps it was the time to push the issue, after all. Obviously, neither of the parties involved was going to be good for much until they'd resolved this. He'd known that since he and Kitty had walked into the house and he's seen the looks on their faces. It was part of the reason he'd hoped she would stay with them-- it would be a theraputic experience all around. And the problem lay with Kitty, not Bobby… "That's what you said at the time."
"It wasn't his fault," she objected. "It was mine – if I had concentrated on what I was doing, if I'd just remembered he was pretty much invulnerable in his ice form…" She paused, and Kurt lay his hand on her shoulder.
"There was no way you could have stopped it, Katzchen. And I don't think anyone could sit by and watch someone they care about be crushed…least of all you. But what happened to those people wasn't your fault."
"Easy for you to say, fuzzy elf. You weren't there. But whenever I get involved with someone, somebody gets hurt. In Genosha a lot of innocent people paid the price."
Though he disagreed as to the cause, he had to admit that a lot of innocent people had paid the price in Genosha. Including Iceman and Shadowcat.
_____________________________________________________
Jubilee nearly skipped toward the door, happy to for the opportunity to get out of the cramped house. Not that it was really all that small. You could go all day and not see anyone else, if you really wanted to. Just that when everyone was moving around, trying to get things done for the architect, to bother Jean-Paul with financial problems, to arrange meetings and clearances and all that official crap... well first off, it put every one in a hell of a bad mood. And second, it had absolutely nothing to do with her, so it just made her feel like she was in the way.
She figured that Paige would be pissed about not having anything "official" to do, so why not drag the hayseed to the mall and try to lighten her up for a bit? After all, what were friends for...
But she heard Paige's voice behind her, still in the living room, as she was about to open the front door. She turned around, irritated. God. She was probably back arguing with JP about the new rooms or with Kurt about the mayor's office, trying to stick her nose in where they obviously didn't want it. She was never going to get that girl out the door this way. She turned around and marched back into the living room, and saw that her hunch had been at least partially right. Paige was looking at old Johnny expectantly. And Johnny, in turn, was sitting on the couch with one eyebrow arched in his usual Spock impression, considering something.
"No, I think not," he said, after a minute. "Thank you though. And don't be too late, Jubilee and Bobby are cooking tonight, and I don't want him alone in my kitchen."
Paige smiled at him, then turned around and walked right past Jubilee, toward the front door. For a moment, Jubilee just stared, confused. That was not the kind of interaction she'd expected to find. Or the kind of interaction Jean-Paul had expected, judging from his Spock impression.
What the hell was up with her today? Jubilee shrugged, resolving to get to the bottom of the issue, and followed Paige out the door.
"So what's with JP playing dad?" She asked, once they got into the car that had been sanctioned for "every day use" in JP's garage-- which, incidentally, was almost as big as the house.
Paige pulled an expression of pure confusion. "Playing dad?"
"Yeah, telling us not to be late and stuff. What were you talking about?"
The blonde girl shrugged, and hit the garage door button, then started up the car. "Just asking him if he wanted anything while we were out. He's really busy right now, so I thought we could try and help out a little."
Jubilee just eyed her sideways for a moment, then rolled her eyes. Here she goes again. Always running after the unattainable.
______________________________________________________________
Four hours and countless shopping bags later, Paige sat, feet aching, in the pizzeria next to the Gap. Thanking God for spinach stromboli. Jubilee was a marathon shopper. Paige could do some damage, honestly, but the way her friend tore through a store like a hurricane was second to none. And, as a result, she was starving.
It was nice to get out of the house though, she had to admit. She hadn't realized just how stressful a week of being cooped up with each other, working hard at their efforts to make things click for the new team, could be. And now things seemed even more tense with that Kitty Pryde hanging around. Of course, Paige had heard nothing but good things about Shadowcat's capabilities. She knew, logically, that the older girl would make an excellent addition to the team, and would prove to be a great asset to them. There was no question in her mind about that.
But that didn't make her any less irritating. Paige had come here with these people, her teammates, because she wanted to make a difference. And now she was relegated to the role of second string team member once again, because Kitty had turned up and taken away her shot at second-in-command. Just because she was friends with Kurt from their Excalibur days. She wasn't even that much older, really. It was just entirely unfair, considering that Paige was a founding member, and really, it had been her idea to stick together and form a team in the first place...
"Yo, earth to Paige," Jubilee said around a mouthful of pizza. "You still in there?"
Paige blinked across the table at her friend, and nodded. "Just thinking."
"If you say you're thinking about Jean-Paul--"
"Oh stop," the blonde girl rolled her eyes. Jubilee had been dropping not-so-subtle hints all afternoon that she thought Paige had suddenly developed a "thing" for the arrogant Canuck. And she hadn't. Not at all. He was just... interesting. Irritating, but interesting. Was it a crime to think he was fascinating? "I was thinking about Kitty, actually."
"I mean, you argue with the guy for a week straight, and then all the sudden you're reading his book and asking him if he needs anything from the mall? Seriously--,"
"Seriously," she interrupted, "stop. He just said something interesting to me the other day, that's all. So I checked it out, found out that he's been through a lot, and decided that he's worthy of a little more respect than I've been giving him, ok?"
"Did you just admit to being wrong about something?" Jubes raised one eyebrow, and stopped chewing entirely, one cheek puffed out comically because it was stuffed full of pizza.
Paige sighed, and flipped her hair over her shoulder. She loved Jubilee, she really did. They'd been through hell and high water, and they'd go through a lot more for each other. But god, she was insufferable sometimes. Couldn't she just let it drop? "What about this Kitty Pryde?" She asked, in a not-so-covert attempt to change the subject.
To her surprise, Jubilee let her get away with it.
"Kitty-Kat? She's ok, Paige – I mean, we had issues when we first met," Jubilee said as she swallowed her mouthful of pizza. "She was jealous, I guess, because Wolvie was hanging with me instead of her. But she got over it."
Personally, Paige thought it probably had a lot more to do with Jubilee being jealous of Kitty, rather than the reverse, but refrained from saying so. It just wasn't worth an hour worth of listening to Jubilee complain, just to make a point. "So you two know each other, then?"
"Not all that well," Jubilee admitted. "We talked a lot when the pimple died; I guess we were both pretty broke up about it. But we've only run into each other a couple of times since. She and Kurt are real thick, though."
"Yeah, I noticed," Paige said irritably, picking at the last of her salad. "She waltzes in and everyone is all over her, "Kitty, what do you think of this? What should we do about that?" I mean, hell, she can't be that much older than me, what makes her so special?" Looking past Jubilee, she saw a guy at the table next to them staring at her, and realized her voice must've gotten louder. She felt a blush creep across her face as she took a deep breath, willing herself to calm down.
"Sounds like you're jealous," Jubilee observed. Paige glared at her, and the younger girl laughed. "You so are, aren't you? Come on, ya know Kurt thinks you know what you're doing, what's the big deal?"
"No he doesn't," Paige complained, trying to keep her voice low. The guy at the other table was now talking animatedly with his friends, so it would appear she was succeeding. "You didn't hear the dressing down he gave me about my going into the bunker by myself."
"Well, that was pretty dumb. What'd'ya think he was gonna do, give you a commendation? As if!"
"It worked, didn't it?" Paige argued defensively, suddenly wondering if they should have stayed on the subject of Jean-Paul after all. This one didn't seem to be an improvement. "Anyway," she said, glancing at her watch, "We should get back. We don't want J-P to have kittens about you being late to cook supper, do we?"
Jubilee rolled her eyes but began collecting her myriad of shopping bags. "Too true," she said. "But hey, Paige, I wouldn't worry about Kitty. Besides, not everyone's hung up on her. Bobby hasn't hardly said two words to her, and Johnny wouldn't so much as give her the time of day if he had a choice in the matter. Wonder what's up with that, anyway? He can't hardly know her."
"True enough," Paige admitted as she stood up and grabbed her own paraphernalia. It just reaffirmed her previous opinions; the man deserved far more respect than she'd initially thought.
____________________________________________________
When Jean-Paul emerged from his office later in the day, he was immediately confronted by the one person he'd been trying his damnedest to avoid all day; Kitty Pryde.
"Jean-Paul, we need to talk," she began, grabbing the sleeve of his shirt as he tried to brush past her.
He turned toward her, pointedly looking at her hand on his sleeve, then switching his gaze up to her face and raising his eyebrows. She dropped her hand immediately, but to his surprise she otherwise stood her ground. "What could we possibly need to talk about?" he asked dryly once he realized she wasn't going to move. "As I told you before, write me up a list of equipment you feel we need and a justification as to why you feel we need it, and I'll review it and get back to you."
"Which is rather insulting, since to my knowledge you know virtually
nothing about computers," she said indignantly, "but not what I want to talk to
you about. I just saw the
blueprints the architect drew up; the power he's planning on running in is
going to be totally inadequate for our purposes."
"And you're telling me this why?" he asked. "Kurt met with the architect, not I."
"Kurt suggested I discuss it with you before calling the architect," she replied, shrugging, and Jean-Paul silently cursed Kurt Wagner. For approximately the tenth time in as many hours. Of all people, he would expect that Kurt would understand why he really had no desire to talk with Katherine Pryde about anything, and yet Kurt seemed to positively delight in forcing them together. At least, so far as he could tell, Kitty was enjoying it even less than he was.
And thus, through a simple desire to rid himself of her constant Wagner-induced interruptions, he abruptly made a decision. After all, any concerns he may have had about her technical abilities had dissolved after their initial discussion earlier in the day; she was correct in her analysis that she knew far more about it than he did. "Do whatever you think is best," he said coolly, and saw her raise her eyebrows.
"About the power?" she asked leadingly.
"About all of it," he replied, turning away from her. "After all, you're our new technical expert. Decide what needs to be done and do it." And walked away, enjoying the startled expression on her face.
Until he saw Bobby watching the exchange, with those damned puppy-dog eyes locked on her, just as they had been since she'd shown up on the doorstep. He heard Kitty's footsteps retreating back down the hall-- stalking back down the hall, more like, and watched Bobby watch her go. After a moment, when he couldn't take it anymore, he cleared his throat. Loudly.
Bobby looked up at him, wide eyed, as if only then realizing that he was even present.
"What's the matter with you, Drake?"
As if he didn't know. As if Kurt hadn't made it perfectly clear. As if the look on his face right now, like someone had just pulled out his frozen little heart and stomped all over it, didn't drive home the painful fact that he still had something for Kitty Pryde. It was like getting punched in the gut by the Hulk, really, every time he saw it. And he'd been seeing it all day.
"Kit," Bobby muttered, stuffing his hands into the pockets of well-worn jeans, listlessly. "Hasn't said two words to me."
Jean-Paul sighed quietly. He wanted to be angry. He really did. Wanted to tell him that he was acting like a lovesick teenager. Wanted to ask him if he needed to eat a gallon of ice cream and sit in front of the Lifetime channel with a box of tissues for a week. Wanted to walk up to him, punch him in the face, and wake him the fuck up.
But all he could do was sigh. What did you expect, Jean-Paul? Keep falling for straight men, this will be the story of your life. You would think that he would've learned the first time... "You love her?"
Bobby's eyes widened, and he looked around sharply, as if to see if anyone had heard that. "What are you talking about?" he hissed, now advancing on Jean-Paul and pushing him back into the office, then closing the door behind them, quickly.
Jean-Paul simply stared, for a moment, as the other man began pacing in his unacceptably cluttered office. Stacks of papers and books everywhere, mainly thanks to Kurt's digging through his every posession in search of blueprints and phone numbers and the like. Bobby stepped over things like he didn't even notice what he was doing, and started walking a circle in front of the desk.
Irritating. The man was just irritating. "Sit down."
To his surprise, Bobby did. On the desk. With is back to Jean-Paul. But he still didn't say anything.
Suppressing another sigh, despite the fact that he felt one would be well-deserved right about then, he walked around to the front of the desk, and sat in the chair in front of his distraught teammate. Waiting. He didn't want to, of course. He wanted to kick him out, tell him not to come back until he was straightened out, and go find some muggers to beat the shit out of. But he couldn't do it. Only yesterday, his heart had been broken at the sight of Bobby in tears in the kitchen, shirt stained with blood from the secondary mutation he couldn't control...
Two years ago, he would've been able to do it, he told himself. He was getting soft in his old age, that was the problem.
"We're friends, right?" Bobby asked, and Jean-Paul could hear the desperation in his voice, the need to talk to someone that clouded his eyes. "I mean, we didn't get off on the right foot, when you came to Xavier's, and I keep making an idiot of myself around you, but we're friends?"
Jean-Paul swallowed. "Oui, I should hope so. After all this."
Bobby nodded, and raked a hand through his already unruly hair. "Ok. So I can talk to you right?"
No. No, you cannot talk to me. I don't want you to talk to me. I don't want to know you, I don't want to see you, I don't want to give a fuck about you, Bobby Drake.
"Yes, of course."
"We had a thing, awhile ago. Me and Kitty. Doesn't matter what happened, I guess, but it was all going really well. We went with Hank on a mission, to Genosha, and something bad happened... we went through some serious shit, lost some people we were trying to save, and after it was all over she just went cold, lost interest in me altogether. I hadn't seen her since, until the other night."
Jean-Paul shook his head, wishing he could be anywhere else in the world, but unable to move. "I don't know what to tell you, mon ami. But it looks like you'll have to get over it, for the time being. I would hazard a guess that there are other things you need to be thinking about, far more important than a failed romance."
At first, Iceman simply narrowed his big brown eyes. As if he were going to have a sharp comeback. Some kind of quick retort that would put Jean-Paul in his place.
But he didn't. He simply slumped his shoulders. "I know."
Jean-Paul stood up, finally, unable to stand it anymore. He wanted to help, he wanted to run. Wanted to touch him, more than anything else. "Let's find you something to do, hm? Something that requires you pay complete attention to it."
Bobby looked up at him now, clearly disappointed. He'd wanted to sit here and talk, mope about Kitty and his mutation and everything else in the world that had suddenly turned against him. But he stood up anyhow, and followed Jean-Paul out the door.
My heart bleeds for you, cher. But we all need to survive this. And if I get too close to you, I will not. This is a game I can only lose.
__________________________________________________
"Christ, Paige, could you have parked any further from the mall?" Jubilee was rolling her eyes at Paige, an activity she'd been happily engaging in all day long, and hiked her bags up on her shoulders, readjusted her grip on the ones in her hands.
She'd made out like a bandit-- lots of sales today, and even got asked for her number by the cute clerk at Hot Topic. Course, she gave him a fake one, but still, what an ego boost! Yes, she definitely felt a little better for getting out and about for awhile, no question about it.
Paige didn't look like she'd had such a bad time of it either, despite the present scowl on her pretty face, thanks to Jubilee's comment about her parking spot.
"Could you whine a little more about it? The place was packed when we came in, Jubes, there was nothing I could do," she defended herself as they walked through one of the small alleyways in search of the far off parking garage. Night was coming on, even though it was still only six o'clock or so (and damn were they gonna hear about it from the guys if she wasn't back to cook tonight!) Chicago was famous for its wind, and Jubilee now realized why, as a breeze much colder than it should have been whipped around her, grabbing her coat, her hair, and a few of her bags and stirring them up. So that she had to readjust again.
"Goddamn wind," she muttered, "If I didn't have like eighty bags, it'd blow me over."
Paige laughed, for a moment. But once she got quiet, she suddenly stopped walking, in the middle of the brick alley they were halfway through. The car was in the garage just on the other side...
"Yo, hayseed, almost there, don't crap out on me now."
Paige was looking around, however, suspiciously, green eyes darting up, then down. She held up one finger, and Jubilee instantly quieted, sensing the other girl's sudden worry and tension. After a moment of Paige looking around, she hissed, "What is it?"
"Hear that?" Paige asked, barely audible, turning around to face behind them, into the now-nearly-empty parking lot they'd just come through.
Jubilee followed her gaze, saw nothing, and listened a little harder. She was about to say that no, she didn't hear a damn thing, when she suddenly noticed that the mechanical whirring sound she'd been hearing since they'd come outside, that she'd assumed was coming from the adjacent building's air conditioning unit, was getting louder. And was accompanied by a metallic clanking sound, as if something large, heavy, and made of metal was walking through the parking lot, towards them. The picture it brought to mind was sickeningly familiar.
"Oh fuck," she swore aloud, as the thought entered her mind. "We're in trouble, aren't we?"
Paige, still wide-eyed, looked over at her and nodded. Wide-eyed, but not scared. Jubilee could already see her friend's body tensing up, into cat-like readiness, even in her civvies. Don't need that tight kevlar uniform to be able to see when someone's ready for a fight. Paige definitely thought that something very bad was about to happen. "Maybe. I have a bad feeling about this..."
Jubilee nonsensically wondered if she had meant to use the infamous Star Wars quote or not, and if she knew just what that meant for them. And then, she clicked into full X-Men mode. "Let's go see what it is. Might be nothing."
_________________________________________________________
Unfortunately, it was something.
Paige dodged another swat from the ridiculous looking robot, still in her usual form, and swore aloud. She needed a moment to think, if she was going to take this thing out with the partial-husking she'd been working on. She'd pretty much mastered one form, that of a long, not quite pronged metal form for her forearm, that she was sure could be used to get inside this thing and short it out, or at least cripple some of its systems. She and Jubilee could handle it, she knew they could handle it. As much as she hated to admit it, Jubes had grown up fighting Sentinels, and despite its smaller than usual size, and the fact that it looked as if it had been made out of scrap metal, she assumed that was what it was. She reminded herself that she was no slouch when it came to winning such battles either, and tried to simply focus on the task at hand. Think through what she needed to do.
"Where the hell did he come from?!" Jubilee shot off a round of *pafs* and flipped nimbly out of the way of some of the nasty beams the thing was sending her way now. She'd been flipping all over the parking lot, trying to distract it, as if she could wear the thing out. "What's a..." flip, *paf* "goddamn Sentinel..." *paf*, jump, dodge, "doing at the mall..." flip *paf* *paf*, "in Chicago?! I thought these damn things self destructed after Genosha or something!"
Thinking about that would distract Paige, however, so she simply shouted, "I don't know!" And continued with the process she'd been refining all week. She'd worked it out at Xavier's but she really thought she could do it now, now that she'd had days to do nothing but practice... concentrate on the solidity of the form, feel it coming together, feel it strengthening, the weight of it, stretching it out...
"What the hell...," kick, squeal, *paf*, "are you doing?!" Jubilee shouted, back flipping away from another blast generated from the center of the Sentinel's face which blew a hole in the cement right in front of her feet. "I could use some help here, Husk!"
Paige struggled to keep her concentration. It was a critical stage, just another couple of seconds would do it – there! Gritting her teeth, she grabbed hold of the skin on her forearm and ripped it off to reveal the long, pointed, and most importantly, nonconductive construct that was now her right arm. She suppressed an urge to let out a whoop, and instead rushed up behind the Sentinel, its attention still focused on Jubilee's acrobatic antics, and plunged her arm into its back, sensing rather than actually feeling it emerge through its chest. And twisted. Sparks flew, singing her jacket but luckily not igniting it, as she pulled her arm back out.
"'Bout time! Husk, we are soooo going to have a talk about this," she heard Jubilee yell even as she saw the other girl brace herself and let fly a particularly large "paf," whih hit the sentinel in the chest with explosive results. Shrapnel flew, hitting Paige in the arms that she quickly threw over her face, clanging against the one she'd transformed even as one piece ricocheted to strike her in the temple, drawing blood. She ran her other arm across her forehead before it could drip into her eyes, and turned her attention back to the pile of scrap metal lying on the ground, its appendages still straining toward her as if they had lives of their own. The light in its optical sensors was still glowing, however, but as she raked her arm heavily through its head, they went out. Permanently.
Jubilee came forward, then, panting heavily, and looked down at the fading lights. "We sooo rock!" she said, grinning as she raised her head to look at Paige. "You had me going there for a while, I thought you froze up or something. But –" she stopped speaking suddenly, peering at Paige's face through the streetlight lit darkness. "What the hell, didn't you husk? Then how…"
Bracing herself for her roommate's probable reaction, she nonetheless grinned as she held up her arm for Jubilee to see. Because, no matter how much she was going to hear about this later, she'd done it right. And it felt damned good.
"I've been practicing."
__________________________________________
Bobby heard the door open, and heard Jubilee saying, "I still don't care what you say, Paige, that was an awfully risky thing to do…"
"Talk about risky, where the hell have you been?" he quipped as he came out of the kitchen, still holding a dish towel. "You're dead, Jubes! Jean-Paul actually made me cook. By myself, from an actual recipe. You're just lucky you didn't get back in time to eat – damn, what the hell happened to the two of you? Must've been one hell of a sale…" he said, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of his two teammates, both of whose clothes were dirty and bore traces of burn marks. Of the two, Jubilee looked far worse at first glance, her hair and face covered with something that looked like grayish dust, but he knew from prior experience that it was entirely possible that Paige had husked off her outer layer of skin. Looking closer, he saw that while her left arm was laden with shopping bags, she wasn't carrying anything with her right; in fact, she seemed to be holding it against her body. Taking a deep breath, and wincing only slightly as it caused more pain than he'd expected, he asked again, "What happened?"
"Nothing much," Jubilee answered, smirking. "Hit the mall, did a ton of shopping, had some lunch…pretty much an average day, hey Paige?"
"Pretty much," Paige replied, shrugging. "Got a good deal on those capris I wanted, that was cool."
"Oh yeah, forgot about that," Jubilee replied, snapping her fingers.
Bobby looked from one to the other, his eyes narrowing, and asked, "What else?"
"Well, there was that Sentinel," Jubilee said casually, "but it was no big, we totally took it out. How'd supper go?"
"Terrible," Bobby admitted, his brain still processing Jubilee's latest remark. "I burned the potatoes, and J-P says – hey, what Sentinels?" he proclaimed as the information finally sank in.
"Sentinels?" he heard from behind him as Kurt entered the foyer.
Bobby watched, trapped between amusement at the sudden deer-in-headlights expressions on the faces of the two girls, and an odd brotherly sort of protectiveness. What the hell were the girls talking about Sentinels for... weren't all those things fried? And they'd seen one, today, in Chicago, alone?
Paige recovered first, naturally, and shrugged at their fuzzy blue leader, "Apparently someone is on to us, Kurt. We were attacked in the parking lot--,"
"The furthest possible parking lot from the mall!" Jubilee threw in, with an indignant glare at the blonde girl at her side.
Paige rolled her eyes and continued, "By a Sentinel."
"Just one?"
Jubilee nodded, enthusiastically. "Just the one."
"Nothing else happened?"
"Nothing else!" The darker girl told him.
Kurt stopped now, and brought one three-fingered hand up to scratch at his chin ponderously, "Well, you seem dirty, but none the worse for wear. You're alright?"
"We kicked its ass," Paige said, flippantly, grinning at her friend.
"Still, it was risky taking it on by yourself."
Jubilee rolled her eyes, "Like we had a choice. And you don't know the half, because country girl here decided to pull out all the stops and partial husk." Having said that, she glared at her partner in crime accusingly.
Paige's green eyes narrowed dangerously at the other girl, and she snarled through her teeth, "Jubilee..."
"What, you weren't going to show them?"
Bobby thought about this. Partial husking. Wasn't that the thing where only part of her skin came off and... hey. Hey wait, she wasn't supposed to do that! "Paige, isn't that the thing that can send you into shock?"
She stood a little straighter, and looked at him defiantly. "It can, yes. But I know what I'm doing."
"I'm not convinced that you do, Husk," Kurt's voice had changed from interested father to team leader Nightcrawler in an instant. And Bobby found himself staring, wide-eyed, at the irritated blue elf, straight-backed and listening as if his life depended on it. Because when Kurt Wagner spoke in that tone of voice, he realized, everyone in the room listened.
And that was why they needed him.
"I've been practicing, Kurt," she defended herself instantly, chin raising just a little. She looked even younger when she did it, but her eyes flashed green fire that spoke otherwise-- she honestly thought that what she'd done was ok...
Well, it was... kinda. But she could've at least told them... or... something.
"You should not have done something so dangerous without informing us," Kurt echoed his thoughts, and Bobby considered that he must finally be getting good at this superhero team thing. "Or without us being there."
"Jubes was there."
"And she thought it was rash of you as well, if I'm not mistaken. Husk," the use of her code name was pointed, Bobby noticed. This was not about Paige Guthrie, not a personal attack-- this was about Husk, their teammate, a crucial part of their operation whom they could not risk. Wow, Kurt really knew what he was doing... "you have to think through the consequences of your actions before you--"
"Honestly, Nightcrawler," Came a sour voice from behind Bobby. He turned to look at Jean-Paul as he came into the room now, obviously not understanding that this was Kurt in boss mode talking and he wasn't supposed to interrupt. "She's not a child. She's taken the initiative, is learning to control her powers, and has obviously found a way to use them effectively. She's not dead, she's not in shock, and they won. Next time, we'll know, and I'm sure she'll keep us informed of her progress and when to watch out for her. Lesson learned, non?"
Bobby just stared as Jean-Paul opened the front closet, obviously in search of a jacket and planning to go out somewhere. Casually walking through the middle of a dressing down, like he owned the place.
Well, he did own the place... but still...
"That is hardly the point, Northstar. She could have been seriously injured," Kurt said, sounding like his patience was coming to an end, and rapidly.
JP sighed, and turned to look at the four of them again, having found his jacket. "You're alright, Paige?"
She nodded, slowly, obviously just as shocked as the rest of them that Jean-Paul, of all people, had come to her defense.
"She's fine," he looked back to Kurt. "We can discuss this later, if you want my reasons, but trust me, if we want solidarity, we need to support each other on these kinds of things."
Bobby was flabbergasted. "Ok, seriously, who are you and what have you done with Northstar?"
Jean-Paul flipped him off, and turned to go. "I'm going to the hospital. If anyone needs me, tant pis." He blurred, jacket in hand, and was quite abruptly gone.
Kurt raked his hands through his unruly mop of hair and sighed. "Don't do it again without us. Please. I only say this because I--,"
"I know," Paige admitted, still looking stunned. "I should've told you guys. I just... well I figured you'd..."
"Do exactly what I did, yes."
"What the hell is up with Northstar?" Jubilee finally blurted. "And what does tant pis mean?"
"Too bad," Paige answered her second question, sounding like she wanted to laugh.
_____________________________________________________
He was not in the habit of defending little girls.
Well, that wasn't entirely accurate. Perhaps it wasn't a habit, but he had been known to defend his share of children. His students at the Institute wouldn't have believed it, of course. But it was true. He did have a heart after all. Just that it had been broken often enough that he had to be careful where he went throwing it around. Broken over a little girl, once, even.
But Paige was no little girl. In fact, she was close to the age he had been when he'd first joined Alpha. A little younger, perhaps, but only months. The age he'd been when he'd been found by James Hudson. The age Jeanne-Marie had been when they'd met.
Jeanne-Marie. In a way, he almost wished he'd met her when he was either younger, or older. At 20 he'd been so angry. Fresh out of the FLQ, straight from the disappointment of a skiing career that held no challenge for him, so young and pissed off at the world. Not that he loved it so much now, life was a bitch, and there was no denying that. But now... maybe things would've been different.
He hadn't been so understanding with her, was the thing. All their stupid, petty fights. Over her dating habits, over his, over men, over costumes, over any stupid little thing that never mattered. Over accusations and assumptions, every time. All because he never bothered to try and understand. All because he...
Well, he had been right. Her dating habits were atrocious, she slept with nearly half the men who'd ever been in Alpha Flight.
But oh, there he went again. He couldn't help himself. The very thing that held him to her, the fact that he loved her more than he'd ever thought it possible to love another being, the fact that she was everything to him, was the thing that tore them apart most often. How could he keep silent, when he saw her doing something stupid? How could he not feel hurt, when he thought she used herself so poorly? How could he not let her know, talk to her, hope that she would listen, change...
But it was no good. And standing there, watching Kurt dress Paige down... he saw something flash in the girl's eyes. And it was so defiant, almost threatening. It reminded him of Aurora.
He didn't love Paige, of course. Which made it easier to keep his mouth shut and support her choice. Honestly, he was impressed that she'd managed such a feat. He'd caught most of the conversation, standing behind Bobby in the doorway. He hadn't even known that partial husking had been part of her capabilities. As disgusting as her mutant power was, he had to admit, it was damn useful at times. As long as he wasn't watching when she did it, of course. But he knew that he'd been lucky-- skiing had helped him to develop and control his capabilities on his own, and he'd known the limitations of his powers from a very early age, compared to most mutants. Look at Drake, whose power was so out of control it was hurting him every day, all day.
Or better yet, don't look at Drake. He'd done quite enough looking at Drake in the past week or so. Better not to look.
But something about Paige, at that moment. Her chin raised defiantly, eyes flashing. So young. Just like Jeanne-Marie had been.
He parked his SUV in the hospital's parking lot, slowly making his way to the front door, past the numerous security guards, and checkpoints, and detection systems, so as not to alarm anyone. The last thing he felt like dealing with at this point was having someone try to deny him access to Jeanne-Marie. Not that they could, of course. But he really wasn't in the mood for a confrontation, either.
Perhaps if there had been fewer confrontations. Perhaps –
"Excuse me, are you Jean-Paul Beaubier?" someone asked, breaking him out of his reflections, and he turned around to see a dark haired, golden skinned man wearing a physician's white coat.
"I am," he replied in a measured tone, trying to evaluate the man's reason for addressing him. Unlike the nurses who routinely turned him out, or tried to, when visiting hours were over, this man looked almost…friendly?
"I'm Dr. Rai," he said, stretching out his hand, which Jean-Paul took and shook. "I've been assigned to your sister's case. I've been hoping to bump into you."
"Is there something I should know about Jeanne-Marie?" he asked quickly, darting a glance toward her room.
"No, there's been little change," the doctor reassured him. "She's been a bit more active today; she was doing some sort of aerobic exercise with the television earlier, but nothing exceptional."
"Then why?"
"Actually," the doctor said, grinning lopsidedly, "I admit that I'm something of a fan. I read your book, 'Born Normal', and wanted to congratulate you on having the courage to write something so controversial."
"About homosexuality?" Jean-Paul questioned, trying to read the other man's body language, determine whether or not this was leading to a proposition of some kind. Usually, he could tell. Usually.
"Oh, no!" Dr. Rai protested, chuckling. "Well yes, that too of course, but I meant about being a mutant. I don't know that I'd be able to announce it to the world, myself. You must be a very brave man."
"Perhaps it is also because, at least in Canada, it was public knowledge?" he answered, raising his eyebrows. Truth be told, he was somewhat relieved; though the man was certainly good looking, he wasn't really his type. And the last thing he really needed now was someone he wasn't interested in becoming interested in him, although he had to admit there would be a certain irony to the situation. "I lost the safety of my "secret identity" only years after joining Alpha."
"Still, it took courage," Dr. Rai insisted. "I've told only a few people, myself, and only when necessary so that they would believe what they thought a questionable diagnosis."
"You're a mutant, then," Jean-Paul said, as the pieces clicked into place. The other man nodded.
"Nothing exceptional, but it's useful in my profession. I have microscopic vision," Dr. Rai explained.
"Fascinating. Now, if you would excuse me, I would like to spend some time with my sister," Jean-Paul said shortly. Realizing belatedly that it was not, perhaps, the best policy to brush off one of the doctors responsible for Jeanne-Marie's care, he added, "Perhaps we could discuss it at another time? I'm afraid I'm a bit rushed, tonight."
"Oh, certainly," the doctor replied, and Jean-Paul nodded, then walked over to the door to Jeanne-Marie's room. As he raised his hand to knock, he thought once again about the mistakes he had made at age twenty, the ones that might have ruined his relationship with his sister forever. Perhaps, if he was now able to accept and appreciate Paige's independence, her drive, he was also ready to do so for his sister.
It might've been asking for a miracle. But...
"Perhaps," he thought, and knocked on the door.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Letters Page!!!
Thanks to everyone who was kind enough to read and/or review our last two issues! We have big plans for our favorites, as you may have noticed. Great reaction to Kitty as our techie, some people love her, some dislike her, but are willing to see where things go. But what about that pesky Sentinel? Where did it come from. Well, we're not giving up the goods just yet, but in the NEXT ISSUE there is plenty to look forward to (er, we hope!) Mutations go awry, panic ensues, old "friends" come for a visit, and one Chicago hospital may never be the same. Oooh, check out our next story arc, Iceman No More, Part 1 of 2, coming soon!
Didi, TheScribe3, Erin-Starlight, and cyberpilate: Ahh yes, the Bobby/Kitty past. This issue probably gave you a little more background on that, and all will be revealed in the near future. It's not canon, per se, but it fits nicely into that convenient six-month gap in the comics, where it has been hinted in canon that something "bad" happened with Kit in Genosha. We figure Claremont was going to get around to explaining that eventually... but why wait when we could do it ourselves? As you can see, we're into tying up loose ends.
WishfulThinking2 and Caliente: Yes, Bobby and Hank on the outs is something no one likes to see. And perhaps Bobby should have been listening when Hank called with results... but more on that next time!
Harry: Yes, right about now we're all just waiting for Lockheed to roast Jean-Paul's favorite pair of shoes. Or his hand.
Joey1: We're not done with the Mekanix crew just yet! Don't go away disheartened ;)
WishfulThinking2: Jean-Paul's past with the FLQ, specifically with the violent splinter group Cell Combattre is, indeed canon. He was pardoned by the Canadian government for his involvement, however, since he didn't realize the violent nature of their activities, and when he did, he left them. There is a lot more to that... but let us leave it at that!
Thanks again to everyone who reviewed: TKD, Didi, Caliente, Linzer-b, Harry2, Dana, Red Witch, The Scribe3, Wishful Thinking2, BlueSqueak, Verthril, Amura, Joey1, Erin-Starlight, and Cyberpilate, Kamikaze, and Alex. You guys are great, and we appreciate your feedback!