Everything is black and white.
The floor is a chessboard. Bolts of white silk drip from the walls. The tables, draped in black, wear corsages of white roses.
The china is white with black borders.
The wait staff wears white tuxedos, black ties.
Pyro fiddles with his, his tray dotted with black caviar and white crackers balanced on his palm. Dominick pours white wine into a black crystal glass and offers it to a woman who smiles red.
Rogue makes eye contact with Dominick who tilts his head slightly to the left, and she scans the crowd in that direction searching for Remy.
It doesn't take her long to find him.
He is talking to a woman, chuckling and sliding a finger down her arm. He meets her eyes from across the room as the woman hands him her card and nods imperceptibly.
I see you, I'm ready.
She nervously slides a gloved hand over her hip, smoothes down the silk. Raven chose a bone-white gown for her. She pinned a black rose over her heart.
She makes her way down the steps as Mystique clicks on in her ear.
"Your first target is Matthew Kingston."
She takes a deep breath, slips the elbow-length glove down her forearm, her wrist, peels it from her fingers as she enters the crowd.
-/-
"Tonight we are infiltrating a fundraiser for the Mutant Control Agency. It is being held at Sampson Charmichael's home upstate. Mr Charmichael founded the Agency four years ago and has amassed a number of colleagues since then, all of whom will be in attendance tonight. One of them will surely have the information we failed to retrieve two days ago from their headquarters. Rogue will use her powers to glean what she can from Charmichael and his Executives. We need to know who his investors are, any new bills that are being proposed and to whom. We need information on prisoners," Raven adds, lifting her voice significantly, "and special projects. Avalanche and Pyro will get in with the catering company. Mr Lebeau has already added your names and pictures to the roster that was sent to Mr Charmichael yesterday.Rogue and Gambit will arrive as guests. Gambit, you will represent Laurent Gasconne, a possible investor who is unable to attend. We will make sure his own ambassador will not make it in his stead and you will be in the clear. Rogue, you will be taking the place of Jacob Downey's daughter Lorraine. Downey is already an investor for the company and also designed those charming little tracking devices we discovered in September. Downey will not be in attendance either, as last night he was admitted into the hospital for food poisoning.Lorraine is currently in Europe studying at Oxford. If anyone asks, you have flown home at your father's wishes in order to represent him here at this important event.You can throw in a little worry on behalf of Downey's health as well," Mystique's mouth tilts up in one corner as she types a code into the computer and opens the disc stolen from the MCA. "I hear he may not make it... These people..." Four images appear on the screen. Three men and one woman. "Are your primary targets, Rogue. You will touch each one and pass the information on to Pyro. When making contact with Charmichael I would like you to learn where his office is located in the house, where he keeps his personal and professional files. When you have that information you will give it to Avalanche, and Gambit will retrieve anything we may want. You will find clothes in your rooms as well as com devices for the evening and details on your aliases. Avalanche and Pyro you will be leaving in thirty minutes, Rogue, Gambit, you have two hours."
-/-
She manages to keep upright until she slips out into the hallway. Once alone, she slumps against the marble wall, shivering as the cold kisses her bare shoulders, her back.
"What happened?"
"He just fainted..."
"Oh my God, is he alright..."
"He's breathing!"
"Mr. Kingston can you hear me?"
"They'll be here in ten minutes..."
"Make some room... give him some room..."
Just a swipe of her hand against his as she passed him and down he went. She had used Jean's power to block the onrush long enough for her to get away, but now her feeble dams are bursting. Reabsorbed power, she finds, is only half as strong as it's original source, and she grits her teeth as Matthew Kingston invades her mind...
-/-
Dominick leans over the arm of his chair towards her, asks, concerned, "Have you ever absorbed four people, one right after the other before?"
She shakes her head no.
She had absorbed two mutants one after the other once - Remy and then Jean Grey, but there had been some time in between...
This is different anyway...
She's never touched a person who wasn't a mutant without causing permanent damage. Bruce is dead, and as far as she knows Cody is still in a coma...
"These are bad people, Rogue." Raven says almost gently, watching her from across the room. "They deserve whatever happens to them."
"Are you gonna be able to handle alla them in your head, girlie? Don't you usually get wacky after a lil' skin on skin action?" Pyro smirks from her left and she doesn't answer, doesn't even look at him.
"You have Jean Grey though, to help you right?" Dominick asks, still leaning towards her, still trying to make sure she'll be okay. "I mean that's why you absorbed her in the first place - to help with this sort of thing... She's still in there right?
"Yeah," she whispers. Jean had made it clear that she would help...
But with this... Jean wouldn't approve of this...
She can feel Gambit's gaze burning into the back of her neck as she bows her head, presses her fingers to eyes.
-/-
"Can I offer you some fish shit on a cracker, madame?"
"Factions of the MCA are bein' set up in Europe as we speak," Rogue murmurs over the lip of her champagne flute. "Charmichael is makin' Kingston the head of the London base and he'll be workin' with the British parliament to round up suspected mutants."
"That's all ya got?
"Ah was only able ta touch him fo a minute - that's all Ah could pick up from him right now that was relevan'."
"Well touch the next one longer."
"That's a great idea - lemme be on the scene when one a' them goes into convulsions. Ya do know that'll put me under suspicion right? Not ta mention Ah'll be outta commission fo' who knows how long."
"I thought Red was in there keepin' you situated."
"Ah don't have full access to her powers - Ah ain't her." She takes a cracker from his tray as another guest approaches and Mystique murmurs in her ear, "Margaret Barrington on your left."
-/-
Jean Grey sits in the rocking chair with her feet tucked under her, her chin on her knees as she looks out the window. She watches the leaves on the tree standing sentinel beside the river dance with the wind, watches the tire swing sway slightly with an invisible weight as Rogue bites her lip, her heart hammering in her chest. The moments tick by, each one leading her closer to the mission, closer to what is sure to be the worst night of her life.
She doesn't have much time and Jean still has not answered.
She sits down on the edge of the bed, resists the sudden urge to crawl under Julia's afghan and never come out. She plays with the fringe, rubs the yarn between her fingers anxiously twirling them round and round trying to be patient, trying to be calm like Jean is calm, serene like Jean is serene.
"You should talk to him," she finally murmurs.
"Who?"
"You know who."
Rogue shakes her head, swallows hard. "He can't do nuthin ta stop what's gonna happen t'night. Ah'm not completely sure he would anyway... Ah still don't know where that man stands... if he's workin' fo' y'all or..." She shakes her head again, starts to panic as Jean turns her attention back to the ghosts playing by the river, swinging over the sun-splashed water in wide careless arcs.
She remains silent. The seconds hold hands and stretch into a chain of precious minutes.
Ah need ya...she thinks.
Ah can't do this without ya...
The image of that boy, the angel... his eyes and the sad slope to his mouth, the defeated slump of his shoulders has been haunting her. He's gone through hell... he's still init and she's willing to bet it's a million times worse than hers...
If she gets caught tonight she'll end up there with all the others, and who knows what they'll do to her... what they've done to himto make him look so... excruciatingly hopeless...
Ah don't wanna get caught... please God don't let them get me...
The thought that she could just take what she needs like she did with Gambit last time flits through her mind and as soon as it does Jean glances at her with raised eyebrows.
Rogue flushes, says, "Ah wouldn'. Ya one of th'few psyche's that doesn'hate me. Ah don't really wanna alienate ya. Ah need ya too much."
Jean nods, traces the edge of the windowsill with a finger. "For my power."
"Ah ain't gonna deny that Ah need it t'night - ya know Ah do... But that ain't the only reason Ah need ya, Jean... Ah trust ya more than Ah trust mahself... Ah think maybe yo' th' onlyperson in th' world Ah trust right now..." Rogue stands, says, "Ah ain't gonna pretend like Ah ain't scared... Ah'm... Ah am. But If ya don't wanna help me that's okay, Jean... Ah mean it. Ya don' owe me nuthin'. Ah'll find another way... Ah'll... be fine."
"No, you won't. You'll be caught, locked up and probably killed," Jean looks at her, twists her body in the rocker to face her, "and even though I hate what you're going to do you don't deserve that. Just promise me one thing..."
"What?"
"Promise me you'll get out."
"That's all I've wanted fo' months."
"Promise me, even if it meansyou have to leave her behind."
Rogue blinks.
"What?"
"You're too dangerous in their hands, Rogue. We know The Brotherhood and what they're capable of. Tonight is just the tip of the iceberg."
"Ah can't..."
"Is one life more important than a hundred others? Because it could come to that, Rogue. It's very likely to."
"Ah don't know about a hundred other lives, all Ah know is Ah'm responsible fo' hers.Ah can't promise ya that Ah'll leave her b'hind," she whispers, "but Ah promise ya Ah'll die before Ah become what they want me ta become. Ya have mah word on that."
Jean looks at her for a long moment, smiles softly, nodding, says, "Would you ever consider joining us, Rogue? Joining the X-Men?"
Rogue frowns.
"If Ah say yes are ya gonna help me?"
Jean holds out her hand.
"I was going to help you anyway."
"Oh."
"I'm just saying no matter what you think of yourself, you're a good person, Rogue, and you could do a lot of good in this world..."
"Ah'll keep that in mind," she whispers and takes the offered hand. She closes her eyes as Jean flickers, her power threading through her veins infusing her with strength, with calm.
"By the way," Jean murmurs as she sinks back down beneath the floorboards, "I meant you should talk to him..."
Jean nods at the busted closet door, her whispered "good luck" hanging in the air briefly before fading with the sudden pink flare of the firebird outlined on the floor, leaving Rogue staring at the split wood and the darkness beyond where she can feel Gambit waiting.
-/-
"Barrington has ties to a scientist in Canada who specializes in gene splicing..."
"Gene splicing?"
"Say it a lil louder why doncha?" she hisses and winces, pressing her palm hard against her forehead.
Pyro squints at her, his sneer sliding into a frown,
"Hey, girlie... you ain't lookin' so good."
"That... Barrington woman... has a potty mouth an' she hasn' stopped screamin' at me since she went down..."
"Where'd ya stash her body anyway?"
"Avalanche is takin' care o' that stuff. He was the one who caught Kingston when he fainted... tol'em ta call 911..."
"Ya got any more for me?"
"No - far's ah kin tell that's what Barrington's contributin' to the MCA... She used to be a scientist... studying diseases... heredity diseases... whole buncha stuff along those lines. She's usin' her contacts to..."
Her head pounding.
"...to..."
Jean?
"to do..."
Margaret Barrington's screams mix with Matthew Kingston's yells, making her dizzy, making her eyes water.
Jean...?
"To do what?" Pyro growls impatiently.
"Stuff..."
"That's really helpful, Lorraine"
"After she's calmed down Ah can go back in there... an' get specifics... Ah can get more information from alla them... when they... calm down..."
White noise roaring in her head...
Jean?
I'm here Rogue, I'm here... I'm working on it...
click
"Charmichael is alone, exiting the main floor."
"Wait... Mystique... Ah need a minnit..."
"Now, Rogue."
click
She can feel him looking at her, staring at her back, a warmth right between her shoulder blades. He doesn't say anything and neither does she. She stares at the elevator buttons, her hand reaches out, her fingers gently pushing the button for Deborah's floor. The elevator sails past. She didn't expect it to stop. It's habit by now. Pushing that button, knowing nothing will change but doing it anyway. Like tonguing a sore tooth, teasing out the pain for no reason other than she can't help herself.
It's the same with him. She could have waited in her room until she was sure he had gotten in the elevator. She could have waited for the soft sound of the ding and the swish of the doors closing, but she wanted to see him, tease out the pain.Being around him makes her sad. It makes her angry too. She needs that anger to get through tonight. Needs to feel something other than trepidation, the knot of nervousness and fear twisting in her stomach. She needs him to rile her up, piss her off.
He's staring at the nape of her neck. She can feel his eyes, knows where he's looking.
She turns her head the slighted bit, feels the heat of his gaze slide to her cheek.
"What?" She means to snap. It comes out too soft and the knot twists in her stomach.
He doesn't say anything and she turns, wraps her arms around herself tight. She faces the doors because she can't face him and waits for them to open.
He says, "You gon' be okay?"
She swallows.
"Ah don't know. Doesn' matter."
The doors slide open. She can't seem to move. If she takes this first step she'll have to take another. And then another. And then she'll have to go outside. And then she'll have to get in the car.
Remy steps past her, careful not to touch, his cologne...
She holds her breath.
"Y'look beautiful," he murmurs.
She watches him cross the lobby, his hand flat on the glass door as he pushes it open. He looks over his shoulder, his lips move again but this time she can't hear.
She knows what he said though.
He said, "be careful".
Mystique clicks on in her ear.
-/-
Breathe... just breathe...
Charmichael at her feet.
What the hell... echoing in her ears, where the hell am I?
Shhhh... she thinks, and a rattle of chains. Metal boxes clamping shut.
Jean doesn't want her to do it this way. She says they won't be as cooperative when she talks to them later. But Jean's reasoning with them, talking them into being quiet has not been working fast enough. Her ears have been ringing, her head pounding, her eyes burning all night.
There's one man left. Just one.
"She don' know nuthin'."
"Are you sure?"
Remy?
She holds her breath listening to the hushed voices, frozen in place behind a pillar. Two shadows suddenly edge into her sight - a man and a woman stretching onto the wall before her. The woman shakes her head and the man reaches out, his hands palms up in a "what can I say."
"She don' know nuthin'. She didn' even know de guy's name... We leave her 'lone, neh? When we go after de Brotherhood? We leave her 'lone... She don' need no mo' trouble..."
"What... where..."
Rogue tears her eyes away from the shadows as Storm's low voice murmurs, "She will not be harmed, my friend," and she looks down at Charmichael's body.
He is moving.
He is awake.
Shit...
She stoops down beside him, touches his shoulder, straining to hear if they have gone.
She glances up at the wall one last time before turning her attention back to the groggy Charmichael. The shadows have disappeared.
"Oh my Gosh! Sir, are you okay? You collapsed... I was just about to get some help... I'll get you some water..."
"Who are you..." He blinks dazedly, trying to focus on her face, his speech slurring as he tries to sit up.
"Don't get up, sir - I'm going to get help..."
"Who..."
"Lorraine. Lorraine Downey."
She leaves him. She can't get out of that hallway fast enough. She has to find Remy.
He's working with the X-men.
Ah knew it... Ah knew it...
Ah can trust him.
Ah can tell him.
Ah-
She rams into a man as she comes out onto the floor and stumbles back, her heel catching on her train. He catches her before she falls, his hand grasping her hip and pulling her upright.
And suddenly she's staring into a pair of narrowed eyes. Hostile eyes. She knows these eyes...
"So tell me de truth Wolverine - you practice dat look in de mirror? 'Grrr I'm de Wolfman...grrr I ain' housebroke...grrr I'll be more den happy ta rip ya a new one...'"
Remy knows those eyes. Like he knew the sound of Storm's voice in that hallway.
"You didn' hear nuthin'."
"What?"
"You. Didn't. Hear. Shit." He holds up a fist under her chin and suddenly her face is cupped between two blades. "I know how your power works. I know what you did to Jean. You ain't gotten punished for that yet."
Her heart is pounding in her chest, not out of fear but exhilaration. He's threatening her with the one thing she is not afraid of.
Death.
It gives her a sudden sense of power, this not caring what he does, this not caring if he runs her through right in the middle of all these people, and she stares into those eyes. She leans into him, feeling reckless, feeling a trickle of blood slide down her neck.
"Go ahead."
It might even be better this way - solve all her problems in one fell swoop. She wouldn't be a pawn in Mystiques game anymore, Deborah would have to go free because Mystique would have no more use for her. She wouldn't have to live through her life in a constant state of guilt and regret... She would finally be free, really free.
She looks deep into those eyes, thinks, do it...
He stares back. Snikt go the knives as they slip back into his knuckles, the wounds closing up instantly. "Wouldn' wanna spoil the duds." He growls nodding at her dress. "You get a pass tonight - we both got covers to keep - but you come near me or my own ever again and it's over. You're done, darlin'."
Darlin'...
She steps up to him one last time, her face close to his and he doesn't flinch, doesn't blink. Neither does she.
"Fuck. You. Darlin'."
-/-
"That last man on the list, Rogue... his name is Alexander Charles. He is one of the wealthiest men in Massachusettes. He hasn't signed on with the MCA yet but if he does there'll be nothing they can't do. What an organization like this needs is an extraordinary amount of money and a constant flow of it. Most of the members are affluent, but Mr Charles can allow them access to funds that will make them unstoppable. We need to scare him off. They'll have a hard time finding a backer with as much money as Mr Charles on so short notice. Something is going down soon. They need the money now. This gala is partly to woo Mr Charles into becoming a partner. It's clear he is intrigued. He has been involved in meetings with the higher-ups for months, has been touring facilities. It's only a matter of time before he starts writing checks. All they need is his signature... and the signing is scheduled for tonight."
Mystique secures the black rose over Rogue's heart, brushes her hair away from her downcast eyes.
"When you touch him you don't have to look for anything. We just want him taken out. Avalanche will take care of things from there."
"We gonna kidnap him?"
"Yes."
"Take his money?"
"Yes."
"Kill him?"
"Not tonight."
-/-
Alexander Charles is in a wheelchair.
She hadn't expected that.
He's sipping a glass of champagne that Dominick has poured for him. He smiles his thanks and Rogue goes to them without Mystique's prodding. She is one touch away from this night being over.
She has a trove of information in her brain buzzing and humming and rattling chains. They're trying to get out. She can hear Jean trying to soothe them, trying to keep them calm.
How many are left? she asks.
One more.
And then it's over?
It's over. As soon as Ah get mah mind clear Ah'm gettin' her out or Ah'm gonna die tryin'.
She thinks of Gambit, of him asking Storm to leave her alone, to grant her immunity.
"She don' need no mo trouble"
Ah may even be able ta get a lil help...
"Mr Alexander?" She holds out her hand. "I'm Lorraine. Jacob Downey's daughter?"
He smiles kindly in recognition of the name, and just as he reaches out his own hand Jean's voice tears through her mind.
"DON'T!"
Her palm meets his. The backlash is instantaneous. She doesn't make a sound. She falls as a tidal wave of darkness overwhelms her, drowning out the voices, drowning out her thoughts.
Blackness.
Silence.
She doesn't even feel the ground when she hits.