Less than an hour later, Avery arrived at said address, an abandoned warehouse on the edge of Wall Street that thanks to the constant increased police presence, even junkies and homeless people were avoiding.
The traffic caused by the bank robbery had only just let Jean, Ororo, and Logan arrive themselves. Barely in time for Jean and Logan to clear a secluded corner of debris and shards so they could talk undisturbed, and for Ororo to use a couple more gusts of wind to blow the acrid residue of the chemicals formerly stored here out of the room along with the worst of the dust.
With five people, they'd have been faster, of course, but on Jean's advice, Scott and Katja had gone home with surprisingly little resistance.
Something that, judging by his brief shrug, and his sarcastic grin, didn't shock Avery much though upon his arrival. A comment on it, he did not deign give.
For the time being, Scott hadn't revealed anything regarding his relationship with a victim in a completely random conflict either. But the aggression prevailing between the two men, Jean had already sensed earlier easily, and it was infesting the air now, too.
In fact, to be precise, with Avery it was the only thing she perceived about him, a hatred so strong that Jean could hardly pick up any other emotion, even a single thought from this guy.
Scott's brief summary that Avery suddenly seemed to show up everywhere he and Katja went, and the fact that it had been so important to him to get his partner out of this guy's reach that he had voluntarily aborted the mission prematurely, that was quite enough reason to have to learn more about this man.
For the sake of politeness alone, however, and also because a quick peek into the bank's surveillance footage via an appropriate hacking program seemed to support Avery's version of events, at least at first glance, Jean started by asked him how talking to the police had gone down and whether Avery was feeling all right.
Once she could be sure that the stranger had indeed remained silent regarding his encounter with the X-Men, she personally made sure, to break the ice, that, apart from bruises and scratches, he had not sustained any injuries from the incident, since he had refused such treatment by the emergency units earlier for reasons of cost.
The accommodating gesture indeed seemed to chase away the worst of the aversion in Avery. What Jean told him in short words about the whole idea that was the X-Men while she worked apparently helped as well. At least he soon stopped flinching at her every touch and even smiled now and then.
Jean, on the other hand, skillfully avoided any curious inquiries, as always in such situations, which sometimes could not be avoided despite all caution, revealing as much as necessary and as little as possible, and she also took Avery's promise once more not to talk to anyone about these things.
With that, she was just as clueless as she had been earlier though. And if she had correctly judged certain furtive glances of surprising interest earlier, it was better if someone else spoke up now.
She thrust a blister of Naproxen into her short-term patient's hand for possible inflammation of his wounds and silently stuck a last band-aid over a particularly deep cut between Avery's collarbones left there by Sabretooth's claws, more focusing on gestures that were routine than necessary, looking over her shoulder only for a moment, at the obsolete forklift the hood of which Ororo had settled on.
About time to get down to business.
The discreet request was to be expected – Logan wasn't particularly suited as a diplomat, and Jean's job in such situations had to be primarily mental probing. Ororo was used to acting as a negotiator when Scott was unavailable.
For a moment, she still had to search for words. During this still very cautious conversation, she had admittedly been busier, critically – and curiously – eyeing Avery's tall, well-proportioned shape several times than with thinking up strategies.
"What happened today, I think we can put to rest. It's unlikely the authorities will contact you again, Avery. Mutant incidents have been increasingly swept under the rug from the Washington side since Liberty Island to keep the public mood from heating up even further. But if you do have to testify again, stick to what you told them earlier. Then they should leave you alone, and us, too."
"I hope so. I actually came back to New York to finally have something like normalcy in my life, with all the anonymity here. But apparently, I just can't get away from people like you." That, at least, sounded more resigned than reproachful as earlier after the fight.
The objectively handsome appearance was all too quick to distract from the young man's confusing demeanor, which would have been conspicious even without that obviously bad history between Scott and him. Avery's eyes, looking almost black in the hall's half-blind illumination, showed no trace of the dark fire in his soul that Jean had spoken about on the way here. After the understandable brief panic and initial wariness, he now radiated more and more of an almost eerie serenity, sitting motionless on a dusty crate, hands folded over his knees. The way he kept looking straight at them all in turn, not avoiding a second of eye contact, made it hard to believe that the man had as much of concern to hide as Scott had implied. No shuffling feet, no unconscious covering of lips or throat, no heavy breathing. If he was lying, he did it well. There was a stillness surrounding him that suggested disciplined physical or even mental training.
Ororo inevitably wondered what could have triggered such anger at one of the X-Men, of all people, in such a guy who was actually acting remarkably rational now that Scott was no longer around and now that he was no longer being threatened by a primitive jackal and a trained assassin. She couldn't get a real reading on Avery, and that made it more challenging than with other people to corner him rhetorically.
Whether that would even really be necessary, she doubted more and more. In fact, Avery actually seemed more like he indeed wanted to worry most about how to graduate the fastest – or what he would be wearing tomorrow. He conformed so neatly to the typical white beauty image of the guy you wanted to take home to meet your Mom that he probably could have easily worked as a model if the psychology thing became too demanding for him. Sometimes Ororo envied ordinary people for so much carefree simplicity in their lives.
Annoyed at her own useless observations, she returned her gaze to eye level. A man bringing chaos into her life was really the last thing she needed right now. Especially when he had just become a case for the X-Men, which meant that the superficial existence was over for the time being anyway, whether the guy liked it or not.
Direct attack forward usually proved best when surrounded by dense fog. "You may have brought that upon yourself, Avery. Have you met Mystique and Sabretooth before? Do you have any idea if they might want something from you?"
"And what, exactly? Are you seriously starting with the same bullshit as Summers now? That was a bank, not my apartment. I just happened to be in these people's way."
As much as he tried to express his hurt accusation in the direction of everyone present – and especially of the person who, as expected, had been too much of a coward to show up here in the first place – Avery caught his gaze lingering on Ororo's face more often and for longer.
On Magneto's pictures, he hadn't noticed how attractive this woman was. As a ruler of the elements with the ability to fly, she was one of his strongest opponents too though, along with the telepaths in the X-Men team. He better not forget that. If it was time to possibly get rid of a few too many hormones in his body again, there were far less dangerous targets.
"You just happened to."
It was plain to see that at least this Wolverine guy didn't believe a word Avery said, while Ororo seemed mostly confused, and Avery seemed to have fortunately made it through the dreaded first encounter with the group's mental powers, too; in that regard, all that meditation stuff in jail had probably helped.
The remaining mistrust, he had counted and speculated on. After all, the goal of this meeting was to make sure that today was not the last time Avery would talk to these people. In any case, he would not rely on the Brotherhood alone for information.
"Believe it or not, I did. I have a part-time job with the company that owns the bank. No account fees and all. Given how good you guys seem to be at spying, I'm surely you can double-check that. As a student, you need to watch your money."
"Even as a student who has already admitted to purposefully ending up in the same lectures as one of us?"
Ororo apparently wasn't going to let the lead of conversation be snatched from her so quickly. How easily she silenced her caveman of a teammate with an extremely annoyed look with her pupils glowing almost snow white for a moment, that once again sent a disturbing shiver of fascination through Avery's veins.
"If that same person then shows up not a few hours later in one room with our enemies, you'll forgive us for taking a closer look, Avery. Besides, the Brotherhood left you amazingly unscathed. People getting between Sabretooth and his prey usually don't make it out of there without a few broken bones or open arteries." Aggression again, openly this time, only barely held in check in what was actually such a soft voice, toward this primitive among Magneto's people; an emotion Avery found it hard to blame the young woman for.
"Am I supposed to complain about that or what?" Avery growled, again making sure to sound as offended as possible.
"Are you trying to pin something on me, is that it? Don't ruin the good impression I've gotten from a couple of you in the last 48 hours. What am I supposed to do with psychos who tried to kill all the members of my species at Liberty Island? Here I thought Summers was the only one of you who doesn't like me. Maybe I have him to thank for this crap today, ever think about that? The moment this guy show up at my college to ruin my day because I looked his sidekick in the eye for a second too long, suddenly I'm followed around by his enemies and his friends at the same time. The guy always had jealousy issues. So, if anyone should be paranoid, it's me."
"That whole thing is just rather strange," Ororo remarked after a few seconds of them all challenging each other in silence, during which both sides considered how to continue dealing with the other. "Excessive suspicion in our direction is misplaced, no matter what may have gone down between you two. Our job is to protect the world from the Brotherhood. But perhaps Magneto is indeed interested in you. Have you had to deal with mutant conflicts before?"
"Other than putting up with Summers for two years, long before the guy apparently discovered his Samaritan streak?" Avery shook his head with tight lips, a gesture of defense he didn't need to feign much.
"I have no idea why any of your species would come after me. I'm not Jack The Ripper. I don't even have money because after my father died, the managers were happy enough to run his business into the ground. You guys, on the other hand? Trouble seems to follow you wherever you go. Maybe it really was your precious team leader who drew these people's attention to me, at that fucking meeting at the college. That was public enough, after all. But hey – no need to be overly suspicious, right? Shit happens and all. And even if not, what am I supposed to do about it? For security detail by the police, those few clues from today will hardly be enough."
"You know where to find us." This time it was Ororo who handed him a business card. It was the one of this Xavier guy. "If you get in trouble with those bastards again, get in touch with us right away. Don't take this lightly. Magneto's people aren't someone you want to piss off."
"Oh, really?" Avery slowly raised an eyebrow and rubbed his chest a little too theatrically.
"Maybe I'll take you up on that offer sometime. Well, if I don't get verbally punched in the face right at the gate and no one chases me with some laser blasts, that is. I'd love to see you again, even if those clothes you picked are a bit … out there." That was meant especially for Ororo, to whom he gave one last, actually sincere smile before leaving the warehouse.
That had gone better than expected.
For seconds, gloomy silence filled Charles' office. The usually so cozy room with its dark wood paneling felt several degrees colder than usual. Confused, almost hostile silence had spread. The X-Men were not used to walls of such distance building up between them all. First Ororo, who had found it so difficult to let anyone help her after this attack by one of their enemies ...
And now it was Scott who, after hearing from the rest of them about the meeting with his old enemy in that warehouse, surprisingly refused to elaborate on Avery's and his shared youth.
"Is that your only statement?" Charles finally asked, his voice tight.
"What is this, an interrogation?" Scott returned tensely, his already ever-so-straight posture on the sofa only stiffening, an almost imperceptible grind in his jaw. "What happened between Avery and me in the past is nobody's business, and has nothing to do with him showing up today either. I would have preferred that you had not been involved in all this in the first place. But now that the guy has a record with us, I'm also officially taking over this case as team leader. I don't need help with simple surveillance. Thanks for the offer, but I don't want anyone else here to deal with this guy."
"It's not that simple anymore." That there was something in Scott's past that even Jean didn't know about bothered her more than she should allow it. She couldn't even remember ever seeing this man's face even in Scott's nightmares through the former mental link between the two of them, though there was very little else regarding Scott's life in the streets that hadn't come to light over the course of their relationship.
Given how deeply her former partner seemed to have buried his experiences with this guy in his subconsciousness back then for some reason, that was a bigger indication than any murky conversation of how many bad things must have gone down there. And Scott had never revealed any of it to her.
It was once again an extremely sobering reminder that things had long been less than half as perfect between the two of them as everyone had always thought. In fact, Jean was almost glad that this thing had only happened now that she was no longer the partner by Scott's side because she couldn't go easy on him regarding the many traumas from his youth this time.
"Anything to do with the Brotherhood is a problem, and it's our problem. We need to figure out whether or not we need to watch out for this guy."
"That's exactly what I intend to do, and I'm perfectly capable of doing it on my own. I know him better than any of you, and as far as I'm concerned, that's not going to change. That is my last word. You have your orders."
The continued stubbornness in Scott's words and his distanced posture, with his arms folded, had Ororo and Jean exchange astonished looks. Their friend had actually been doing this job as a leader for far too long and was too professional to not know that going the lone route could only lead to turmoil in a team.
"We're there for each other, that's never been any different." Only Charles' determined tone made it clear to his defiant protégé that he would not approve of unsanctioned plans in this regard. And as the X-Men's patron, when it came to it, Charles still had the last word. "It's exactly because the two of you have a shared past that it's better for someone else deal with young Mister Anderson. He'd be extra careful around you, Scott, no matter what he has to hide. Your anger at him would get in the way, you know that."
"So that's how it is. Well, if you prefer to overrule my authority, Professor, I think you no longer need me in this matter. You'll excuse me." With that, Scott stomped out the door, slamming it violently behind him.
Katja winced as if this had been a deliberate attack on her nerves.
"He just needs to swallow this," Ororo tried to reassure her. "Normally, his decisions are not questioned in this house, and certainly not ignored. That has very rarely been necessary. He'll be fine."
"I hope so. Will you excuse me, too?" Restlessly, Katja stood up, her thoughts visibly on her partner, who would need her close in his agitated state.
On days like today, Jean was especially glad that after Liberty Island back then, the two of them hadn't wasted unnecessary time pretending and sneaking around each other any longer. They had complemented each other wonderfully from the start, and if Scott had found a kind of security so deeply rooted with Katja that he could even trust his new partner with such secrets as the one about Avery, that should make Jean happy, not hurt her.
"You know it won't be much longer before all will come to light," Xavier cautiously reminded the newest member of his team. "I sense big trouble coming our way. Something's off with this Avery, there's no doubt about that. If he really has joined the Brotherhood, or if that's Erik's goal because he found out this man is obviously Scott's enemy, then it's not just Scott and you who are affected. It would be better if everyone was in the loop."
"That's not my call, Professor," Katja replied uneasily, leaving the room almost as quickly as her partner.
"You know what happened between them, don't you?" asked Jean, although she already knew the answer, and it didn't exactly improve her mood.
"I couldn't help it." Xavier tapped his forehead briefly. "I'm still all but hitting a wall in Scott's head, but I couldn't read past Flashwind's thoughts if I tried. Still, she's right, Scott has to be willing to tell the story. Anything else wouldn't be fair. Telepath ethics, Jean. Please try to keep to it as well, even on days when it's difficult."
He let out a deep sigh, closing his eyes for a moment. "Until then, I need one of you to put Avery under a microscope the old-fashioned way. We need to be careful."
"Under a microscope?" Marie asked skeptically. "Isn't spying more of a job for Mystique?"
Lately, the younger people were invited to meetings like these, too. Marie and Bobby, in particular, were allowed more often now to get their first closer glimpses of the X-Men's work. The teenagers always showed great interest and commitment on such occasions. Even though they often seemed as if they were lost in their own little world, sitting there hand in hand on the sofa, making heart eyes at each other, their senses were always focused on the problems at hand. That offered the reassurance that in the not-too-distant future, the team would have the necessary strength even if one member or another was having a bad day.
For the kind of observation, Charles wanted to see there, though, you couldn't bring in adolescents who spent most of their time in school or training.
"A few casual conversations would be enough. Just to go sure. Can you get on that, Ororo? After all, we know where he works. Think of a reason to visit him. Take him out to dinner."
"You'd better do that, Jean," Ororo said, hesitating. "With your telepathy ..."
"... I would be biased because it would only ever be his obvious anger at Scott that I would feel," Jean immediately objected. "Through that wall of wrath, I can't get to his thoughts; I've already tried. His emotions are building somewhat of a shield around his mind. He's like a blank book to me. You're the one Avery seems to like. With you, maybe he'll open up. Come on, allow yourself some evenings outside for once."
"That's not punishment, is it?" grinned Marie. "I saw that guy at the gate in the morning. He's really cute."
She deftly dodged a dig into her side by Bobby's side and snuggled under his arm ruefully, careful as always not to get too close with her bare skin.
"If it's so important to you – fine."
Ororo said goodbye with a resigned wave and left the office almost as quickly as her teammates just had. A couple of students had asked her for biology tutoring; that was a good excuse to avoid potentially embarrassing questions.
"Something's different about her," Marie remarked when the door had closed.
"You're a good watcher," Jean nodded. "Our mysterious new friend seems to have raised her interest. I'm sure it will do her good to get leave the house for a while."
"You think so?" asked Logan doubtfully. "Of all the millions of men in New York, to pick the one who's in constant danger of catching a laser blast? With that much luck regarding guys interested in her lately, she should try win the lottery instead."
"Your sense of tact never ceases to amaze me." Jean rolled her eyes briefly, but for his loose mouth, she could rarely be truly angry with her partner.
"Let's try to be happy for her. If the guy's alright after all and things work out between her and him, maybe Scott and he can bury their argument, too."
"You know, sometimes I think Magneto has a point about us all being way too optimistic around here," Bobby muttered dully, but then quickly dragged Marie outside with him by her gloved hand when half a dozen astonished eyes turned to him.
Jean had a vague suspicion though, however, the young man would be proved right.
Even in a huge mansion like Xavier's, it rarely took Katja long to track Scott down by now. When he was feeling down, he was either – much like her – in the indoor riding arena at the breeding farm next door or in the garage. Since training his stallion was highly unlikely at this late hour, the first place she looked was by the motorcycles.
She didn't see him right away because he had only turned on one of the many rows of neon lights on the ceiling, but she could hear him, way in some back corner by an ancient Harley that he had been tinkering with for years to get it going again. He was lying on the floor somewhere in the semi-darkness between shelves and machines, fiddling with the bike from underneath, so Katja couldn't make out more than far too erratic movements of his usually so steady hands and the reddish flash of his glasses in the dim overhead lighting.
She stopped at some distance, without making herself noticeable for now, not sure if her partner would even want her to disturb him right now.
He wanted to be alone; his dramatic exit earlier had made that very clear. Even though Scott tried to be very open with Katja, Avery was one of those things that just weighed too heavily on him.
Maybe it was better if Katja let him think first about what had happened today himself. And then later, in their apartment ...
It was a tempting idea, waiting there until Scott would come back from enjoying one of his hobbies. She could have joined him in the shower or helped him relax with a massage, like on that one night shortly after her capture by the Brotherhood, and then when he would have come down a bit ... Katja would have felt a lot more comfortable in their bedroom, too. Even though motorcycles were one of her own passions, too, she preferred to be outside with them. In this huge hall, she had been feeling intimidated lately, like by all too heavy technology. There had been more than one nightmare in which Magneto had used his powers to threaten Katja with massive pieces of equipment on some factory floor, which he ripped out from their fastenings like matchsticks until they surrounded Katja, keeping coming at her ...
Ororo was the one with the claustrophobia in the team, but Katja didn't completely feel free of it herself since said imprisonment, since she had had to experience for the first time what it was like to be locked up somewhere, in a dark, damp room without windows ... No, this wasn't her favorite place in the house anymore.
She really was on the verge of leaving again.
But then she remembered how Scott had looked in Charles' office. How he had looked when they had run into Avery, of all people, in that bank. That nagging uneasiness, in a level-headed character like him of all people ... In a few hours, he'd have swallowed it down and pushed it aside, just as he had at the lake. Then it would become all the more impossible to talk to him about it.
No, if Katja wanted to help him, she had to do it now. As carefully as possible, she sneaked her way between all that horsepower on two and four wheels until she stood in front of said Harley and unceremoniously settled down on it as if she wanted to ride off any moment. A surefire way to get Scott's attention. He liked it when Katja got excited about one of his machines. It was the same explosive mix of speed, elegance, and attractiveness that she enjoyed so much herself when she was sitting behind him on one of his bikes, snuggling up to him. "Hey. Is it still not running?"
"The engine's just too old. I should finally scrap the damn thing." Scott didn't sound surprised. He'd probably long noticed her. A warrior's senses were trained even to pick up on little things like the quiet clack of high heels.
Frustrated, Scott tossed the wrench into the nearest corner and came out from under the machine faster than he needed to with his creeper, leaving a deep dent in the tool cabinet behind him. Not good. With an overly correct man like him, such gestures were more troubling than any spectacular outburst of anger. "Repairing used to be fun. At least it makes you feel like you're doing something useful. But apparently, I'm not half as good at that as I always thought I was either. Destroying stuff suits my mutation far better anyway. It's a lot easier, too, when you think about it."
"Scott, you're talking nonsense. Don't let this guy get to you so much." Sighing, Katja reached out to her partner but was stopped with a dismissive gesture.
Scott's hands were smeared black with motor oil; he didn't want to touch her with them. That was in any case a good excuse for preferring to lean against the nearest shelf and stare at the floor with his chin thrust forward. "I'm not a good person to talk to right now, babe, sorry."
"Good thing I didn't come to hear anything from you then."
That wasn't entirely true, but Katja didn't want to make her partner feel like she was pushing him. The others had done that enough earlier. She propped her elbows on the Harley's handlebars and cracked her knuckles nervously. "I'm just going to tell you what I think about this one time, and then I'm going to keep my mouth shut, all right?"
When Scott didn't answer right away, she quickly continued before he could change his mind. The two of them had never had problems working things out before, had they? She wouldn't let this Anderson, of all people, seriously change that. "I'm as worried about you as you are about me, Scott. This thing with Avery is going to haunt you for the rest of your life anyway. You shouldn't make it even harder on yourself by walling yourself in. You're blaming yourself where no one else but him would. If he's really planning something, I don't want you to be alone when he strikes."
"I'm not going to be alone. That's exactly it. It's not just me he wants to destroy." Ignoring the dirt completely, Scott absently ran his fingers through his hair. "And he's already gotten way too close to what he wants without me seeing him coming. Either, Magneto knows about our past and that's why he wants to get to Avery, or the two of them have even allied already. I don't know which option I would prefer, but Avery has achieved what he wanted. As our target, he will always be in our proximity. I have to at least try to keep the others away from him. With you, I'm already too late for that. Katja ..."
He wiped his hands on his shirt and leaned on the handlebars until their faces were very close and Katja thought she could see the haunted look in Scott's eyes, even through the damn glasses. "Please try to understand me. I've been fighting on a team with Jean for years. I can't even remember how many times I had to save her ass. But never once in all that time have I been so afraid for her as I am for you now. It's only been the last few days that made me realize how unpredictable this man really is."
"Which makes it all the more important that you don't have to fight him alone. Scott, these are your friends who want to be there for you. Our friends ..."
Katja let her fingertips tenderly slide over Scott's pale cheek, over the tense wrinkles on his forehead.
His skin felt cold, and it certainly wasn't due to a mild summer evening. It hurt to see him like this.
Maybe he was right; Katja would probably always have to look over her shoulder for the foreseeable future, even more than she already was. Unfortunately, this was nothing new for her at this point, and with a normal person as the possible enemy, it would not be a problem either; she was sure of that by now.
But Katja perhaps didn't know her partner well enough yet to give this hope to him, too. That was something that indeed, the others would have managed better.
But Scott shook his head in determination and left a short kiss on Katja's palm. Even his full, soft lips felt rough today. "I'm not dragging anyone into this any more than I have to. It's bad enough that Charles won't let this go. I need to make sure this whole thing stays between Avery and me. We'll work it out as we did back on the street. That may not be pretty."
"It never is, is it?" Katja returned sadly.
She understood Scott better than he might think. There had been similarly dark feelings in her toward Sabretooth ever since that catastrophe with Ororo. Except that Avery, Scott and she had nothing on. All they could do for the time being was wait and see. Usually, Katja was not at a loss for words, but more than repeatedly promising Scott that she would do everything she could to make sure nothing happened to her was not in her power right now.
And she might be able to give back to him a little of the warmth that the shock of realization had drained from her partner over the course of the day. "Come here." With a swift scissor kick, Katja turned on the broad seat until she was sitting with her back to the handlebars and gently pulled Scott down opposite to her, ignoring the marks on his shirt and skin. Oil could be washed off. There were worse things than a little dirt.
The light, grounded scent of a certain aftershave that had already been etched so deeply in her memory made it easy to ignore the metallic smell when she rested her head on Scott's shoulder, letting her hands wander over his strong back, her lips over his neck, with small kisses. It was soothing to feel his posture gradually relax a little.
She leaned her head with a gasp of enjoyment when Scott returned the favor by playing with her earlobe with his tongue and lips, unerringly hitting one of the most sensitive spots. The idea of a passionate night as a distraction from all this crap sounded more and more tempting, especially since Jean's brief examination earlier had confirmed that Mystique had left only very superficial wounds on Scott today. Rarely enough did the two of them have the energy for intimacy after long days at work. Today was just one of those nights when they would take the time, Katja decided.
She reluctantly backed away to escape Scott's caresses at her sides for a few seconds. "Bedroom. Now. Or I'm afraid I'm going to have to eat you alive right here and now."
It had been a joke, actually, but Scott made no move to get up. Katja thought she could all but feel his gaze wander up and down her body, a provocative smile curling on his lips that she already knew from more than one hour that they'd spent pursuing their lust outside their apartment. Well, they did share a love for motorcycles, and obviously, Katja wasn't the only one who occasionally had dirty thoughts regarding fast engines and black leather.
Scott's hands which had been so harmlessly on her waist a second ago, stroked downward to her butt before he abruptly pulled her forward until she was lying more on the seat than sitting straight.
"Hey ..." Half-laughing, half-protesting, Katja wanted to sit up again, but Scott's firm grip around her thighs wouldn't allow it. Neither would the increasing heat of arousal flowing through her body which, for some reason, made her writhe lasciviously on the seat actually, instead of putting an end to this whole thing on the spot. Why did leather have to feel so damn good ...
"Scott, what are you doing?" She tried a half-hearted no again before her hormones would finally claim possession of her mind. "The kids ..."
"… are all asleep. At this hour, no one strays into the garage, believe me."
Scott ended the discussion by leaning over her and kissing her passionately. This wasn't one of those soft kisses they exchanged when they happened to run into each other at school, or the slow exploration of each other's lips when they enjoyed their few minutes alone in bed at night ... This was a conquest, a demanding tip of his tongue thrusting against Katja's mouth, demanding entry, not asking for it, plunging deep into her mouth and touching every spot it could reach as if to mark its territory. All traces of oil forgotten, Scott's hands had already found their way under Katja's tight top and were pushing it upwards impatiently, leaving a remarkably thick trail of the greasy liquid on her skin.
Usually, Katja would have found that disgusting ... But the way the material of the seat rubbed against her bare back was also exotic and arousing, any rational thought forgotten now at the latest. Her partner and she apparently indeed began to develop a serious allergy to bedrooms ... The grounded smell mingled with the familiar, beloved one of Scott's smooth skin under her fingertips when her hands slipped under his shirt, avoiding the band-aids Jean had hastily put there earlier, and tugging it impatiently out of his pants until she could feel the dancing game of his abs.
They didn't have a lot of time if they didn't want to risk getting caught for once tonight, after all, so Katja refrained from exploring Scott's body as extensively as usual, instead stroking straight upwards, enjoying the excited hardness of his nipples answering her touches. Tighter than usual, she took the dark buds between her knuckles, twisting with a harsh tug and smiling with satisfaction when she earned a barely suppressed moan. The gentleness with which they treated each other most of the time was nice, sure, but it could also be exciting when things got a little wilder. Katja hadn't had much experience with that before Scott, but that didn't mean she wasn't curious. She was only too regularly happy to learn a little from him in this respect, too.
Therefore, she willingly allowed her partner to push her hands back toward the handlebars. She liked to give as much as she liked to be spoiled, but if Scott had just got it into his head to take care of her exclusively, she'd be damned if she was going to stop him ... Purring softly, she arched her back when caresses, just as firm as hers had been, wandered over her chest, her breasts, making her brains check out completely within seconds. Her skin was on fire, especially the sensitive one of her nipples, that kneading was almost a little too hard, but this small pain only increased the pleasure. Katja didn't have to look down at herself to know how she had to look by now. A shower later was mandatory by now anyway. Somehow she had never cared about anything less. The slick liquid on her body mixed with the sweat of the heat, making the touch of Scott's half-exposed chest even more pleasurable when he snuggled closer to her.
Again that hungry kiss, numbing her senses until she was downright dizzy and only belatedly realized that Scott was starting to strip her off her pants and underwear as well. A shiver ran down Katja's spine when the leather now rubbed against her sensitive behind and she could feel her own juices wetting the seat. A naughty thought that promptly made her blush but only turned her on even more. Not a minute had passed, and already, the arousal throbbed inside her almost painfully, at her center as she was instinctively pushing her hips toward Scott's hand.
But to her disappointment, he didn't even really touch her there, but grabbed her thighs again and pushed her legs apart a little more. The cool air of the garage brushed over her half-naked body when he straightened up to scoot back a bit.
The uncompromising way he was holding her forced Katja to follow his movement so that she now lay fully stretched out in front of him. Her hands tightened around the handlebars when, instead of Scott's clever fingertips, she felt the hardness of his glasses against the insides of her thighs, hot breathing ghosting over her most sensitive spots ... So much for her threat to eat him alive. Better not think about it for even a second, where she was just laying, quivering, letting her partner drive her into new spheres of pleasure. Otherwise, she probably would have had to sign up for a mutant playboy photo session as punishment for such a sin. Fuck, they hadn't even locked the damn gate ...
And what that man was always doing with his mouth was so good that it was probably forbidden. His tongue was teasing spots inside her that Katja hadn't even known could be touched until recently. And that playful nibbling on her most sensitive spot ... The light blurred into dancing stars before her eyes as the whirl of arousal became a hurricane, her body rearing up so violently that she almost slipped off her improvised bed.
"Careful." In moments like this, she barely recognized Scott's husky, raspy voice, and since she'd once let him know how much that tone turned her on, he'd naturally let her hear it even more often on purpose. He gently pulled her back into a safe position before there would really be an accident, and straightened up to unzip his pants with trembling hands.
Katja sat up with a smooth movement, glad for the short break before her mind would take off completely. It was a completely new form of pleasure that they were both experiencing there more and more often. In this respect, too, they were only at the very beginning of their partnership, but in this, too, they harmonized wonderfully, and there would be many more adventures of this kind waiting for them. They would not always find a chance for it; all the more Katja wanted to prolong the moment now, to enjoy together with Scott how this additional adrenaline component would drive their bodies to an overwhelming height this time as well. She was almost a little afraid of it, that was how intensely the excitement surged through every cell today.
She welcomed the brief break, her eyes closing all on their own when Scott's arousal pressed against her exploring hand. In her haste to help him push aside the distracting layers of fabric, she almost ripped off a button. She loved feeling that tremble in her partner's body, which now no longer came from an overload of emotions when she only gently pressed her lips to his stomach while stroking his quickly hardening length with firm movements. That he was reacting to her as fiercely as she was to him only made her blood run hotter through her veins.
If it hadn't been for the brief glance at the door, despite all the lust, she would have preferred to delay the game even longer. Therefore, without further ado, she lowered her head until her lips touched the moist, velvety tip of Scott's cock. Her tongue darted forward, in little more than a teasing touch, before she took him in, deeper and deeper until her lips were teasing the heated skin of his loins. This was something she always enjoyed, especially when she could feel how quickly restraint was leaving her partner, the way he buried his hands in her hair, on her leg, so as not to lose his secure stance. Wanting to hear more of these deep moans coming from his lips, she increased the pressure with which she sucked on his reddened, sensitive skin, moving her head up and down faster. Her hand slipped lower, over the heavy roundness of his balls and the sensitive spot behind them, a game she matched with her other, increasing the rhythm. The taste of his pleasure was thick on her tongue, revealing how far she had already brought him.
Katja wouldn't have minded going on until she would have seen, from Scott's usually controlled expression, how his body was betraying him ...
Her partner stopped that plan short, leaning Katja back again in determination. After quickly cleaning at least his right hand on the inside of his shirt - which in this case, she was quite thankful for after all -, he finally touched her where she needed it most at the moment, preparing her with quick, deft movements of his long fingers for what they both craved. It didn't take long.
For far too long a moment, he just pressed against her, letting her feel the throbbing in his lower body before he took her, just as quickly and uncompromisingly as he had done with her mouth earlier. It was a good thing that they had figured out the issue of protection at the very beginning, opting for the less cumbersome option after a respective obligatory check in the sick bay. Everything else would definitely have taken just too long right now. It was already noticeably difficult for Scott not to get started immediately, but to wait the short moment that Katja usually needed to get used to him thanks to his not-inconsiderable size. Only when she wrapped her legs around his in challenge, pulling him closer of her own accord, did he allow himself to take her the way they both preferred. Not too hard, but all the more intense, until the waves of arousal carried their bodies away, to that one point where there was no turning back. Today it came faster than usual.
"Tell me, did you always do this outside your apartment?" Katja muttered, rather wiped out, once something like normal thinking slowly came back to her and she realized that no, this hadn't been a crazy dream. She was actually sitting on Scott's motorcycle with no clothes on, sweat-covered and damn satisfied, trying to come back to herself. That had definitely been a complete sexual blackout. Again.
"To be honest, Jean would probably drop dead if she realized how many rooms in this mansion we've already defiled," Scott grinned.
"I don't know what you're doing to me, but don't you dare stop." He tenderly caressed Katja's neck once more and stole a long kiss to make up for the somewhat tactless remark about his ex-fiancée before reluctantly breaking away from her. "If anyone asks, you helped me fix the bike."
"I did?" Katja looked down at herself, frowning, and stared at her battered clothes contritely. "Yeah, I did. Do you seriously think they'll buy that?"
"Probably not, but it spares us the stupid comments." Scott just laughed softly and wiped a small smear of oil from her cheek with the back of his hand before gallantly helping her off the bike. "There's worse things. Being in love is not a crime."
"Fortunately not." Katja snuggled tightly against him once more, beaming. They didn't often talk so directly about their feelings for each other, that wasn't necessary. But every once in a while, one did like to hear such things.
Notes:
Sorry for the chapter length. Again, I blame the smut. On that note, always be sanitary when you have sex, kids. Motor oil is not lube and not suited for any kind of orifice.