Chapter Eight: Bloodlines
Author's notes: * indicates Rogue's psyches * Indicates telepathy
* ~ *
"Miss Darkholme, we're sorry, but we cannot book you on a flight to Jackson, Mississippi in such short notice. The plane is not leaving until six this evening and I'm afraid there's no more available seats."
Raven narrowed her brown eyes. She was in her human form today, a necessity for actually going out in public. "That's ridiculous! Why would two hundred and fifty people WANT to go to Jackson?" she snapped.
"My apologies. I could book you for a later flight," the receptionist said, flipping through papers. "The next flight leaves at seven tomorrow morning and-"
She cut the woman off. "That's not quick enough. I'll have to bring my business elsewhere. Good-bye."
The young blonde winced. "I apologize again, ma'am."
Raven didn't even both glancing at her. She swore under her breath and walked towards the payphone. If she truly wanted to see her daughter, she'd have to use the last resort: Magneto's private jet.
She didn't want Magneto to be able to track her, but now she didn't have a choice. She silently prayed Erik wouldn't check until she was through. If he found out what she was doing, he'd notify Rogue's father... or worse.
Mystique stepped into the phone booth and dialed the number reluctantly.
"Yes, Mr. Lensher?" a voice asked.
"No, Trenton, this is Raven Darkholme," she said softly. "I require your services and the private jet tonight."
"Very well, Madame. It will be in the New York City Airport in thirty minutes."
"You have my gratitude," she said and paused. "Oh, and, if I may ask, can you not mention this to Erik? I don't want to worry him. It's just some personal business."
"Very well," he replied rather suspiciously. "Also, an Irene Adler called, Madame. She requested that if you were to leave, that you take her with you."
Raven groaned. "Tell Miss Adler to find her own ride. I'll be at the airport at 5:00," she said. "That's all."
Placing the receiver in its cradle, Raven sighed and grabbed her keys. After all, she must make haste if she was to reach Caldecott before Rogue.
* ~ *
"It seems your ex-wife, 'Emily,' has made plans for a surprise trip to Caldecott," a young blonde told a brown-haired man. "And your daughter has taken a train for the same destination."
The woman was still in her receptionist outfit as she took a seat in the limo. "She was just at the airport. I read her mind. She didn't want to take Erik's jet."
"So you made her?" he asked.
"Of course," she replied with a smile. "Wasn't that supposed to be my job?"
He nodded. "But Emma, darling, I have yet another job for you. I need you to be close to Mystique. Do you think we could reach New York in time for your to board?"
"As what, a flight attendant?" she asked sarcastically. "I'm sorry, but the White Queen doesn't deliver apple cider to some conniving little bitch."
He raised his eyebrow. "Rogue is Inner Circle material. When I get her, I'll have no use of you. Do you want to keep your place or not?"
Her ice blue eyes flashed. "Fine, you win. But I expect a larger sum of money for this assignment."
"As long as you don't lose her or the girl," he replied with a smirk.
"What do you want me to tell the shape-shifter?" Emma asked.
The man grinned. "Why, tell her how appalled I am that she does not let a father see his own flesh and blood. After all, we're all a happy family. And I think a reunion is long overdue."
* ~ *
Sorry so short I had to end this scene right here to leave you hanging! Who's Rogue's father? Any die-hard comic fans might have a clue. First person to guess correctly in a review gets... err... a cookie?
Author's notes: * indicates Rogue's psyches * Indicates telepathy
* ~ *
"Miss Darkholme, we're sorry, but we cannot book you on a flight to Jackson, Mississippi in such short notice. The plane is not leaving until six this evening and I'm afraid there's no more available seats."
Raven narrowed her brown eyes. She was in her human form today, a necessity for actually going out in public. "That's ridiculous! Why would two hundred and fifty people WANT to go to Jackson?" she snapped.
"My apologies. I could book you for a later flight," the receptionist said, flipping through papers. "The next flight leaves at seven tomorrow morning and-"
She cut the woman off. "That's not quick enough. I'll have to bring my business elsewhere. Good-bye."
The young blonde winced. "I apologize again, ma'am."
Raven didn't even both glancing at her. She swore under her breath and walked towards the payphone. If she truly wanted to see her daughter, she'd have to use the last resort: Magneto's private jet.
She didn't want Magneto to be able to track her, but now she didn't have a choice. She silently prayed Erik wouldn't check until she was through. If he found out what she was doing, he'd notify Rogue's father... or worse.
Mystique stepped into the phone booth and dialed the number reluctantly.
"Yes, Mr. Lensher?" a voice asked.
"No, Trenton, this is Raven Darkholme," she said softly. "I require your services and the private jet tonight."
"Very well, Madame. It will be in the New York City Airport in thirty minutes."
"You have my gratitude," she said and paused. "Oh, and, if I may ask, can you not mention this to Erik? I don't want to worry him. It's just some personal business."
"Very well," he replied rather suspiciously. "Also, an Irene Adler called, Madame. She requested that if you were to leave, that you take her with you."
Raven groaned. "Tell Miss Adler to find her own ride. I'll be at the airport at 5:00," she said. "That's all."
Placing the receiver in its cradle, Raven sighed and grabbed her keys. After all, she must make haste if she was to reach Caldecott before Rogue.
* ~ *
"It seems your ex-wife, 'Emily,' has made plans for a surprise trip to Caldecott," a young blonde told a brown-haired man. "And your daughter has taken a train for the same destination."
The woman was still in her receptionist outfit as she took a seat in the limo. "She was just at the airport. I read her mind. She didn't want to take Erik's jet."
"So you made her?" he asked.
"Of course," she replied with a smile. "Wasn't that supposed to be my job?"
He nodded. "But Emma, darling, I have yet another job for you. I need you to be close to Mystique. Do you think we could reach New York in time for your to board?"
"As what, a flight attendant?" she asked sarcastically. "I'm sorry, but the White Queen doesn't deliver apple cider to some conniving little bitch."
He raised his eyebrow. "Rogue is Inner Circle material. When I get her, I'll have no use of you. Do you want to keep your place or not?"
Her ice blue eyes flashed. "Fine, you win. But I expect a larger sum of money for this assignment."
"As long as you don't lose her or the girl," he replied with a smirk.
"What do you want me to tell the shape-shifter?" Emma asked.
The man grinned. "Why, tell her how appalled I am that she does not let a father see his own flesh and blood. After all, we're all a happy family. And I think a reunion is long overdue."
* ~ *
Sorry so short I had to end this scene right here to leave you hanging! Who's Rogue's father? Any die-hard comic fans might have a clue. First person to guess correctly in a review gets... err... a cookie?