ATTRACTION
BY MADRIPOOR ROSE
An AU Version of the events of the Secret Wars storyarc.
Disclaimer: The X Men are the property of Marvel Entertainment. No copyright infringement intended.
Kitty pouted as I settled down on top of her, squirming experimentally beneath me. "This is stupid. You're too big, too heavy, and if I can't use powers, you're gonna squish me," she complained.
"You have not even tried to free yourself," I chided her patiently. "Logan is right, the self-defense training he has given you relies too much on your phasing ability. You need to practice standard maneuvers, most especially now that Trask is equipping the new generation of Sentinels with those inhibitors."
She blew out a breath, noisily, tickling my cheek, and nodded. "I know."
We had already worked on a few basic moves, using an obscure form that would blend well with her slight build and dance training. She would never reach Tasha's mastery, Kitty did not have the dedication...the obsession...required to turn the unenhanced human body into a weapon the caliber of the Black Widow.
We also worked on a few simple psychological techniques.
The fact that she looks like a small, delicate, helpless teenage girl can also be used in battle. Shrinking back in mock terror only to launch a sophisticated attack once the advantage of the element of surprise had been gained.
Kitty didn't like the sound of it, she found it vaguely insulting.
She squirmed underneath me again, tried to free an arm but couldn't break the light hold I had on her wrist, though she certainly should be able to do so. I loosened my grip and encouraged her. "You can do better than that. Fight harder. Fight for your life, for if an enemy had you so pinned and helpless, your life would be at stake."
"Who writes your dialogue? Doctor Doom's speechwriter?"
"Katherine."
"Peter."
"If you are not going to take this exercise seriously, then we are wasting our time."
Her eyes gleamed, crinkling slightly at the corners with a humor I have learned to fear. "Oh, I'm taking it seriously. Y'know, big guy, if you wanted to roll around on the floor with me, all you had to do was ask," she purred, and her mouth was on mine.
The kiss...surprised me. We had been playing at this flirtation from the day we met, but it had only ever been a game.
We are of an age, but sometimes she seems much younger in her innocence. Though she has worked for Xavier since she was but a child, she has been sheltered. I have killed, I have nearly died. I have betrayed and in turn been betrayed. I've loved, and lost, and fathered a child. I came to Raven's Rock with a heavy heart and a tarnished soul.
Kitty's friendship has done much to relieve me of those burdens, she's made something of a hobby out of 'lightening me up' with her teasing and her jokes, the banter and flirtatious innuendo.
And I must admit, I have idled away the hours before I sleep reliving that tantalizing glimpse of her slender perfect body the first time I saw her, when she walked into the gym and left her clothing on the other side of the wall.
Now, I was only aware of how nice she smelled, that body beneath mine, her warm soft lips, and how very much I wanted her.
She was a very good kisser.
Thus it was an excellent diversion. As I relaxed into our embrace, I was unprepared for the hands lightly stroking my shoulders to close, or the hard shove, her body rolling with mine to put more force into the blow until our positions were reversed.
Kitty beamed down at me proudly, and brushed her lips quickly across mine once more. "Hah! How's THAT for a surprise attack?"
I laughed. "Also one that would be very dangerous to attempt with an enemy, should you lose control."
"But I get the points, right?"
"You get the points," I wrapped my arms around the small of her back, locked fists on forearms, and grinned up at her. "Now. Free yourself again, please."
"Work, work, work," she grumbled, but began wriggling again. She shifted on top of me, hips rolling against mine, and I caught my breath sharply as I realized why this was indeed a stupid idea.
Kitty went very still as I released my hold on her with a breathless curse, and apologized, "I'm sorry, I..."
"Don't be." Kitty did not move and returned my gaze steadily. "Like I said, all you have to do is ask."
I kissed her this time. For a long time. Broke the kiss reluctantly, and then gently urged her to move to snuggle against my side. We needed to talk, and if this continued, I would probably forget how to speak English.
"There are many reasons we should not do this," I began.
"I know. You're Russian, I'm American. You're a secret agent with the Federal Security Bureau, I'm a kooky computer whiz college girl. You're an atheist with pagan leanings, I'm Jewish. You're an omnivore, I'm a vegetarian. You're cool, I'm a geek. You turn into living steel, I turn insubstantial as smoke. Hey, opposites attract, right?"
Despite the lightness of her words, looking into her eyes I saw that she was taking this seriously.
"It will change things between us. People lie to themselves, and say that it won't, but there is a difference between being friends and being lovers. If we should have a falling out, and still have to work together, it will complicate things." I paused, thinking about those last few months with Tasha after I realized that the woman I had fallen in love with was just another of her personas, just an empty mask.
I swallowed, and went on. "And I am on temporary detached duty to serve as liaison to Colonel Vazhin. I may be recalled and reassigned at any time."
"I know. We have to be aware of the bad things that could happen, but we can't let that keep us from living. I like you, Peter. You're smart, and funny, and kind, a talented artist, and a total hunk. Maybe we'll have a month in heaven and then break up. Maybe we'll fall hopelessly in love and then you'll get called back to Moscow. Maybe we'll beat the odds and live happily ever after. Maybe a Sentinel will step on both of us next time they attack. I don't know. I don't care. We're here. Now. So why aren't you kissing me?"
I ask you, how can a man argue with logic like that? As milady commanded, I obeyed. And we spent a pleasant interlude, but I was a bit uncomfortable with the location of our tryst. If Logan happened to stop by to see how Kitty's lessons were progressing, I did not relish a confrontation with her self appointed father figure.
I pulled away and sat up, trying to catch my breath. Kitty propped herself up on her elbows, smiling. "Y'know, we could lock the door. Increase the padding in the mat."
"No."
"Showers?" she grinned, and I groaned.
"Americans and your love of instant gratification. Anticipation, Kitty." I got to my feet and offered her my hand. She took it, and I helped her up. Held her hand, and held her gaze as I bowed over it and brushed my lips against her knuckles. "Such things should be savored. Come to my bedroom tonight, at ten?"
"Is this what they call continental charm in the old movies? Because most guys would probably have their pants off already."
"Then most guys are fools. A lady deserves better."
My answer pleased her, but she looked away suddenly, apprehensive and embarrassed. She stuttered, "Um, Peter...I'm not...there was this guy in Deerfield...before we met...and when I went home for the summer..."
"You have already had a lover. As have I."
"Yeah," she looked up at me from underneath her eyelashes, still uncertain, and I reassured her with another kiss and a smirk.
"It does relieve my mind. I have never been a girl's first...it was worrying me. I didn't want to hurt you. I am not a jealous man, and after tonight I will have no reason to be. Your Deerfield boy will not compare."
Her eyes widened, sparkling. "Not a jealous man, but a confident one, aren't you?"
I merely crossed my arms over my chest and smiled at her. It is not vanity to say that I have a perfect physique. Merely a statement of fact. A gift related to my mutation, for baseline normal men rarely achieve such musculature without steroids, while I have acquired it with a minimum of effort and none of the...diminishing...side effects of drugs.
Kitty's lover had been some fumbling suburban teenage boy. Tasha...my jaded, manipulative Tasha...tutored me in sensual pleasures with the same dedication she devoted to martial arts.
"I think I can make a Kitty purr," I said, knowing the line was gloriously cheesy as I spoke. "Until tonight," I bent to plant a kiss on her amused cheek, and we parted for the showers.
After I showered and dressed, I took one of the cars into town. Raven's Rock Vermont is a quaint village, relying on tourism in the fall color and antiquing season, a few summer homes of the wealthy, and the Good Shepherd clinic. Thus the three block shopping district was a bit more exclusive and extensive than one would expect from a rural New England town.
I arranged to have roses sent to Kitty and made a few purchases before returning to the clinic and my duties there.
I find political analysis of reports rather more relaxing than gathering the information that goes into them. Analysis is done sitting quietly and reading, with snacks and beverages available, and very little chance of being shot, stabbed, or exploded.
The odds of my being stabbed increased suddenly as Logan burst into the room. The Wolverine's claws were unsheathed, and he growled, "Okay, Russkie. You got five minutes to explain why you sent Kit flowers and bought rubbers this afternoon."
Earlier than I had expected, but it confirmed my suspicions that very little that went on in Raven's Rock escaped the notice of Xavier's watchdog. Thanks to his heightened senses and an efficient if informal spy network of gossips on the grapevine.
I would have to include that fact in my next coded report to the Colonel. I saved my work on the computer, and looked up mildly to meet Logan's glare.
"I'd say it was none of your business, but I know she's like a daughter to you. Kitty and I are attracted to each other, and we mean to pursue a relationship. I am not toying with her affections, Logan, not seducing her to amuse myself during this provincial posting. I care for her. And I do not need your approval."
"You don't, huh?" the tone was still threatening, but his claws retracted. He immediately curled his hands into fists. Interesting.
"I have the lady's approval. Tell me, Logan, if I were the type to be frightened off, would Kitty have chosen me?" I asked with a small smile.
He snorted at that, and relaxed, bringing a hand up to comb through his shaggy hair. "Naw. Ramsey follows the girl around like a pup and she's never looked twice at him. Boy'd piss himself if I so much as said boo."
Douglas Ramsey. He wasn't a resident at the Good Shepherd facility, but often served as a translator at meetings of the international committee on mutation. His own gift was a knack for languages. Logan was right, I've seen Kitty with him. No competition.
Logan folded his arms and gave me a long measuring look, then he said quietly, "you don't need my approval, but you got it. You treat Kitty right, you got no problem with me."
I nodded. Logan left, and I let out a breath and went back to my work.
Dinner was served en famille in the dining room. The professors Xavier, Lehnsherr, and Haller. Logan and Mystique. Doctor McCoy and Jean Grey. Kitty and myself.
Charles Xavier did not allow shoptalk at his table, nothing of a nature that would be detrimental to the digestion. So we kept our conversation light, and appropriate to Miss Grey's hearing. There was an entertaining undercurrent to the meal, as Kitty and I traded smoldering glances, and Logan glowered and looked away.
Jean put down her fork, made a face, and a spoonful of garden peas rose a few inches above her plate and began to spin, slowly.
"Jeannie," Gabrielle Haller spoke gently. "Big girls don't play with their food, do they?"
Jean had witnessed a death by a hit and run driver as a child. Her developing telepathy forcing her to experience it firsthand. Her mind shut down in self-defense, the telepathic backlash sending her into a coma that lasted twenty years. She'd been awake for a year now, trying to catch up on the years that she'd slept through.
"They got smooshed in mashed potatoes and all ooky," she explained, and continued to telekinetically separate mashed potato and peas.
Illyana would be playing with her food, smearing the last spoonful of kasha around the bowl so she wouldn't have to eat it. Or had she outgrown that stage already? Had the good Siberian sun and air given her an appetite after her adventures at play in the farmyard so that she licked her plate clean? It has been too long since I went home.
After dinner, I retired to my room and relaxed for a few hours with my sketchbook. Kitty's dragon had raided my supplies once more. The winged extraterrestrial lizard has a taste for charcoal pencils, perhaps I should begin ordering a second box, just for Lockheed.
I've been attempting an architectural study of the house. Frank Lloyd Wright and the Prairie School is a typically American style, and I've found something meditative in the repetition of precise geometric shapes.
When I had finished a detail of windows in the front parlor, I put away my sketching. After setting the stage for seduction, I showered and shaved again, and settled down to wait.
Promptly at ten, there was a tap at my door, and Kitty phased through it and stopped. She was wearing a pink and cream bathrobe, patterned with sprays of rosebuds.
"Wow, you went all out," she murmured, looking around.
Candles burned atop my dresser and bureau on mirrored stands. They filled the room with warm golden light and dancing shadows, perfuming the air with a subtle scent. I was laying on top of the coverlet, wearing black silk boxers, and I sat up as she entered.
"A more romantic setting than the floor of the hologym, don't you think?"
"Oh, I don't know. The hologym has some pretty elaborate simulations. I'll show you sometime."
I stood, and went to her. "I'll look forward to that." She trembled as I took her in my arms. So. Not very experienced, then. I forced myself to go slowly, gently, as I slipped the robe from her slender shoulders and led her to my bed.
Much later, Kitty sighed as I rolled over and grabbed a pillow that was hanging over the side of the bed, settling down comfortably on my back.
She tucked herself into the crook of my arm, her head on my shoulder, and sighed again. "Mmmmn. Secondary mutation? Because that, that was NOT natural."
I smiled a smug and satisfied smile, and kissed her forehead. "Training. Sexual prowess as an interrogation technique."
She stretched and snuggled closer. "Makes sense. If I knew any secrets, I'd tell them if you promised to do that again."
"Give me fifteen minutes...we'll see."
Days passed in a blissful blur. We did not formally announce our new relationship, but we were not particularly discreet. Kitty's choice of my lap over any other available seating made things fairly obvious. The rest of the residents gave unspoken approval, and Jeannie giggled a lot.
It was the weekly briefing that heralded the next confrontation. The hologym was set up as a basketball court, and Colonel Vazhin arrived for his weekly game of one on one with Professor Xavier during the conference. Kitty, in her unofficial position of junior secretary and all around girl friday, brought in some files the thinktank needed to pass on. She gave me a quick kiss on her way out, and Vazhin noticed.
Of course Vazhin noticed. Vazhin notices everything, that's why he has his job.
The meeting and game concluded. Vazhin showered and changed, said farewell to the professor, and asked me to walk him to his car. A transparent conceit, we all pretended that I was not reporting to my controller.
He palmed the disk with the weekly reports as we talked lightly about the Kirov Ballet and Anya Makarova in the lead role of Sleeping Beauty, falling silent as we reached the black BMW.
Alexei Vazhin looked up at me with a fatherly grin, and switched to Russian. "Piotr Nikoleievitch, when I told you to take this assignment as a vacation; to relax, paint, and screw a lot of pretty American college girls, I assumed it was understood that Xavier's mascot was off limits."
"The heart wants what it wants," I shrugged.
He raised his eyebrows. "Ah, so it is your heart we are talking about? I thought it broken."
"It was. You never love as fiercely as your first love. I was a boy with Tasha, dreamed a boy's dream of love and a life together," I looked away, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice. "If nothing else, Tasha made a man of me. Kitty and I chose a casual relationship...we're going to walk down this path together for a way...and see where it leads."
"I wish you the best, but watch your step on that path, boy. You know it would be easier on my heart, or at least my blood pressure, if your love life wasn't a potential international incident."
It was a gentle rebuke, but a rebuke nonetheless. I'd heard worse after making Natasha pregnant with my Illyana and persuading her to bear the child and give her to me before breaking off our affair. The government was not happy about losing the services of one of our top agents for maternity leave.
I had warned Kitty that there would be obstacles to this relationship of ours. Disapproval, unseen pitfalls of fate. Had I but known what was in store for us...I'd have done nothing different. Nothing in life worth having comes to us easily, and pain is always balanced with joy.
I watched the BMW pass through the gates, and walked back to the house.
XxXxXxXxXxX
Time together became more precious as the date of Kitty's return to school approached. She attended the University of Chicago on a somewhat erratic schedule. Allowances were made for her unusual circumstances. Not many eighteen year old girls were part of a government thinktank and situational analysis and response team.
We took long walks in the countryside, shared intimate late suppers at the restaurants in town, and each night she came to my bed.
A strange sliding thumping noise from the hall woke me one night. I rolled over, carefully, and pulled my gun from the nightstand drawer. Kitty stirred beside me, tugging at the covers as I sat up and aimed at the door as it creaked open...and noone was there.
I looked down as Lockheed entered the room tail first, dragging his basket, and I put up my weapon with a chuckle. The small dragon scraped his basket along the floor to the foot of my dresser. Then he climbed in, glared at me and spat "pfui!" before settling down and folding his wings over his head.
The poor creature must be feeling neglected, his mistress having less time for him as our mutual infatuation deepened. I put the gun away, walked over to close the door, and plucked a charcoal pencil from the spiral binding of a sketchbook laying on top of my dresser. And stooped to present the peace offering.
A taloned paw darted out to snatch the treat, vanishing back under the leathery lilac folds.
I went back to bed, Kitty cuddling closer, and the soft sound of splintering wood and crunching charcoal lulled me back to sleep.
When Kitty went off to college, my own University of Siberia teeshirt going with her as nightgown and trophy, Lockheed's basket stayed in my room, along with instructions on the care and feeding of a baby dragon.
The last week before the semester started had been intense. Absence may make the heart grow fonder, but parting is such sweet sorrow...we spent all of our free time together.
A long distance relationship was something neither of us had experience with, and though we knew they could succeed, we also knew they could be difficult.
Between kisses, we whispered promises I no longer really believed in, but would strive to keep just the same, and finally I saw her off to her plane.
A few weeks passed, quieter, and the loneliness was sharper than I had expected. IMs and phone calls were limited by security concerns. I threw myself into work. New patients came to the Good Shepherd Clinic, the thinktank's cover was also a working medical facility for mutation cases. Kurt Wagner, a German acrobat and circus performer and his wife Amanda were having genetic testing done on their unborn baby. Kurt was a mutant with physical changes...blue fur, tridactyl, a prehensile tail...and sometimes there could be complications with mutant births.
I had nothing to do with the medical facility, of course. It simply meant that the professors and McCoy were occupied, and I spent more time babysitting Jean.
And finally, there was a meeting of a UN subcommittee in New York. Dreadfully boring meetings, interesting only for watching the undercurrents of power flowing beneath the flotsam drifting in the open. My position in such meetings was largely ceremonial. I was there to be Russian, to be a reminder that the Raven's Rock thinktank was international, despite close ties to the American government and several of the alphabetical agencies.
It was when we were leaving. Professor Xavier stumbled. Lehnsherr caught his arm, steadying him. "Charles? What is it?"
"A psychic scan...incredibly powerful...it seems to be coming from Central Park. Yes. The Sheep Meadow."
Logan pushed his battered Stetson back on his head. "Maybe we should go take a looksee? Could be a telepath kid just came online and scared spitless."
And so we did. Logan, Mystique, Xavier, Lehnsherr and myself. When we reached the point of origin, we found no mutant child, but an alien structure.
At first glance, I thought perhaps it was some avant garde sculpture, a new art installation by the Parks Department, but Xavier confirmed the telepathic scan was coming from the structure.
It was an arena. Circular, curving walls with four gateway openings. I felt uneasy as we approached it, but could not turn away. Perhaps it was a trick of perception, but the expanse of grassy lawn inside looked larger than the walls could contain.
"How could anything so huge appear in the middle of New York without being noticed?" I asked. We should not enter, not all together, if we did not know the purpose of the device. Yet I could not stop walking forward.
I knew, of course, of the existence of alien races. Xavier's team had made contact with several aliens before I joined them. Kitty's dragon hatchling was a souvenir of one such adventure. My own experience was limited to the international, not the intergalactic.
That changed the instant we stepped through the ring and were transported...elsewhere.
The journey was not instantaneous. It felt like falling through darkness, for a long time. It ended in a crowded confusion. I had transformed instinctively, tearing the shoulder seams of my shirt.
I was standing in a crowd of New York based superheroes, on an alien space ship. Unfamiliar stars shone down through the clear dome above us.
The Avengers: Wasp, She Hulk, Captain Marvel, Captain America, Thor, Hawkeye, and Iron Man. The Hulk. Three members of the Fantastic Four: Mister Fantastic, The Human Torch, The Thing.
I noted, too, that all of those whose ability came of an act of will had reacted defensively to the transport, as had I. Wasp grew to normal size from her shrunken form, the Torch burned, Logan's claws were out, and Mystique had reverted to her neutral form from the approachable zaftig blonde she wore for her public face.
There was a moment of confusion as we all introduced ourselves and confirmed that we had been brought here by the Sheep Meadow device. Some had wandered in by themselves, like us, the Avengers had been dispatched to search for the rest of us. It was disconcerting to realize that while we had all arrived together, our departures had been staggered over several weeks.
Kitty. To Kitty, we had vanished---I had vanished---over a month ago.
Bozhe moi, what she must have gone through. Not knowing what had happened, if we were alive or dead. Her lover, and most of her surrogate family.
Rage filled me. I would have to do something special to make it up to her once we escaped and returned to Earth. And our captors would pay dearly for every tear she's shed.
I began looking for a way out, for some sign of a control room. Surely this group of metahumans and mutants could overpower the crew.
It was then that Captain America called out to us, pointing at a duplicate craft flying in tandem with our own. "Look there! Another ship."
"But who is aboard?" Reed Richards of the Fantastic Four mused aloud.
"I am already scanning," Xavier announced. "In a moment I should be able to tell if that ship also carries a shanghaied cargo," we waited as Xavier used his telepathy to scan the other vessel. "...evil, I sense evil...yes...the other vessel carries our nemesises. Enemies of us all."
It is the darker side of human nature. Just as some of us with mutations or other metahuman abilities have become what the media has termed 'superheroes', finding some constructive purpose for the unusual things we can do, working in service to our governments or for the general betterment of Mankind...there are also 'supervillains'.
People who use these powers for personal gain and power.
The other ship contained a number of the most notorious supervillains.
While we considered the implications of this, a new and disturbing situation was developing outside. The stars were going out, one by one.
It was an illusion. It had to be.
Or else we were witnessing an entire galaxy being snuffed out like candles extinguished by an unseen hand.
The twin ships raced through the void, reaching a single planet, circling a single star.
Not a planet, but a construct. Chunks of many different worlds held together in a globe by some unknown force. And not far from the planet, a rift opened in the very fabric of space, streaming out light that made the sun seem dim in comparison.
The words seemed to be spoken aloud, yet I heard them in Russian, others in English, Mystique and Lehnsherr in German, and so on.
"I AM FROM BEYOND! SLAY YOUR ENEMIES AND ALL YOU DESIRE SHALL BE YOURS! NOTHING YOU DREAM OF IS IMPOSSIBLE FOR ME TO ACCOMPLISH!"
This pronouncement sent a new burble of dismay throughout our company.
I had, actually, been kidnapped to perform gladiatorial combat to the death for wealthy and jaded fight fans once before. I found it rather disturbing that such a powerful alien entity was so...unimaginative.
The ships approached the planet, the other vessel peeling off for a distant landing on another part of the surface.
A sudden dizzying feeling sent my senses reeling, and we were all standing on a rocky hill.
"Whoa! Suddenly we're landside?" She Hulk cried out.
"Be ready for anything!" Captain America ordered. "Form a circle! I've got the twelve o'clock position. I want an Avenger at two, four, six, eight, and ten. Move! Iron Man, keep your long range sensors peeled."
"Good at giving orders, ain't he?" Logan grunted.
Reed Richards stretched upward, scouting everything within eyesight. "Not a villian in sight."
"We obviously need to elect leadership." Xavier stated. "Richards?"
"Are you suggesting me?" the elastic scientist retracted his torso to normal proportion. "I can't. I have a wife back home. We're expecting a child...and we might never return. We can't risk a leader distracted by personal loss at the wrong moment."
"Ain't none of us here that haven't left somebody behind, bub." Logan spoke up, glancing around, at me, at Erik Lehnsherr. "We oughtta draw straws."
"I'm leader of the Avengers," Janet Van Dyne, the Wasp, announced. "But I'll defer to Captain America. We're in a strange place, up to our ears in a little secret war that may decide the fate of the universe. We don't know each other. We all know of the captain. He has the most experience in both leadership and combat. I vote for him."
It was quickly agreed. With no sign of immediate attack, the captain ordered us to begin exploring our strange new world. We would need shelter, food, and potable water.
It would hopefully be provided. The Beyonder had brought us here safely, this patchwork planet had air, gravity, and temperature capable of sustaining life.
I had the worrying thought that it might be the first trial of this bizarre little contest...cull out the weaker, more vulnerable members of each group.
The current landscape was not promising. Bare sand with scattered swaths of a gray-green mossy substance. Clusters of egg-shaped sprouts huddled together like smooth spineless cacti.
The Hulks were walking together, not far from me. I heard She Hulk ask him, "Slay your enemies', this Beyonder said. So, what, these bozos are going to be trying to kill us...more so than usual?"
Her male companion gave her a comforting pat. "Slay your enemies sounds pretty specific, Jen. Maybe none of your Rogue's Gallery made the cut."
We trudged on, finding little hope and no sign of indigenous life, when suddenly Iron Man's sensors detected a small aircraft to the west, heading toward us.
Almost as the man...or woman...in the powered exoskeletal armor told us, there was a huge explosion and a fireball in the sky.
"Ship shot down," Captain America called out.
"A large chunk of debris landed only a few miles away." Reed Richards reported, stretching his neck, giraffe-like, for a better view.
"That blast was like a nuke going off!" Logan's claws had come out at the shockwave.
"Let's check it out," Captain America ordered. And with a firm destination in mind, we set off double time.
Several of our number could travel much faster than the rest. They went ahead to scout, reporting back, while the rest of us followed en masse, as fast as footpower could travel.
They reported that the wreckage was on fire. Doctor Doom, Victor Von Damm, who had taken leadership of the small European country of Latveria in a coup a few years earlier, had been thrown clear of the wreckage and seemed to be unconscious. He wasn't moving.
Given that Doom habitually wore powered armor of a similar design to Iron Man's, complete with personal force field and anti-grav, it wasn't surprising that he'd survived the crash.
When we reached him, he was muttering semi-coherently, "power so great it humbles us...we are bacteria, insects, dust..."
Captain America approached him cautiously, the young Human Torch calling out a warning. "Don't trust him! He's treacherous. We've got to somehow disarm him first."
Logan's claws popped out. "Let me handle that. I'm gonna enjoy slicing him out of that armor."
"Back off, Wolverine," Captain America held out his hand to the stricken man. "Let me help you, Doom."
Doom got to his feet, ignoring the outstretched hand of friendship. "Doom needs the aid of no man. Is that pity I see in your eyes? Pity yourselves," he blasted a bolt of energy that the captain easily deflected with his shield, and flew off.
"Heads up," Iron Man suddenly called. "Picking up bogies coming in fast."
Our enemies swarmed over the rise, two operating a walking gun platform. No soldier, I fell in the first wave, knocked unconscious by a beam of light.
I woke when the battle was over, somewhat embarrassed by my poor showing.
Mystique was lightly patting my face. "You're okay, Peter. It was a stun blast. You make good cover, Tiger, but someone needs to teach you how to duck."
The realization that Mystique had sheltered behind my armored bulk and then pressed the attack in retaliation was somewhat heartening. My error would look like tactics and not that I was taken by surprise.
I vowed it would not happen again. I could not betray my comrades in arms, for it was likely the next attack would be with lethal force, as our enemies learned to operate the alien weaponry the Beyonder had evidently provided.
It seemed our side was triumphant, forcing the attackers to retreat, and capturing four of their number and taking them prisoner. They were bound and the Hulks carried them. The fliers once again took to the sky to scout ahead, and we hadn't walked far when one came back with word of an apparently unoccupied city to the west.
Again, having a goal made the journey easier. And some of the other heroes seemed to have found the skirmish rejuvenating, something familiar in this unfamiliar world.
I found myself walking with Mystique, taking the rear guard. After a couple of hours, she commented, "Hey spyguy, I know you're the strong silent type, but this is getting ridiculous."
I shrugged, and said nothing for a time. Then, when I was certain the others were too far ahead to hear, I admitted it. "I froze."
Mystique gave me a sympathetic look. "Open combat's different than the cloak and dagger game. I've done enough of both to know," her golden eyes narrowed. "You were lucky. Noone died this time, and if more than likely would have been you."
I looked away. "I know."
"So we're going to take that second chance, yes? Because we're getting off this rock and going home. All of us."
I smiled a little. "Thanks for the pep talk."
Her turn to shrug and smile. "Kit, you, Lil' Red...I think you're bringing out my dormant maternal instincts. So humor a very very old woman. Do better next time. Don't put us through losing you."
We walked on, and soon reached the city. I had to smile. "Bozhe moi, Kitty will hate to have missed this. It looks like Atlantis, on the Stargate television program."
Not quite, though. Tucked against a black cliff with a fine waterfall, towers of mirrored and stained glass rose into the sky. A great dome covered the center, forcefield or some unknown building material, it glowed translucent and the palest pink, like rose quartz.
The Thing hesitated and scraped fingertips over his rocky scalp as we approached a broad and curving staircase. "Ya sure we oughtta go in, Reed? Could be a city, could be another crazy funhouse ride like the one in Central Park."
"I don't think so, old friend," Reed reassured him. "I see little point in it."
Many of our group spread out to search our new fortress. Logan and I volunteered to watch over our prisoners. They remained unconscious, and we remained mostly silent. Logan is laconic by nature, and despite his grudging acceptance of our relationship...he does not like me, and does not like the thought of his 'Kitten' in my bed.
I suppose no father, by blood or by heart, is ever comfortable with his daughter's lover. It was something I would have to face with Illyana, eventually, when she grew up. A thought I found rather disconcerting myself.
I spent the time going over everything that had happened since Central Park, composing a mental report for Colonel Vazhin, and planning the stories I would tell Kitty when we got back to Earth. She would groan, and complain, thinking it a great adventure that she had missed.
Reed Richards and his party returned, and Richards announced that they had found a prisoner detention center. We carried our captives there, and he placed them in a state of psychostasis, except for the woman known as Enchantress. She had taken a strong blow to the head in battle, and so she was taken to the medical unit attached to the jail.
To Be Continued.