Chapter 5: Some Kind of Monster
As promised, the next two weeks were filled with Danger Room sessions (which Saber dared not miss) and etiquette lessons (which no one could miss, since Xavier rather sneakily guided them subconsciously to every lesson). The Dress hung over Sabere's door. She ignored it most of the time, but, acknowledging the fact that passing out at the event might ruin their cover, she tried it on every few nights to practice breathing and walking in the deadly heights of the black stilettos Emma had sent.
The Dresses took on an infamy around the mansion. Mocking wages were placed in terms of "fashion shows," and a frequent bribe in jest was, "I'll show you The Dress…"
Despite the good humor inspired by those stupid dresses, no one forgot that they could potentially be walking into a trap. There was no knowing who else the Hellfire Club was playing their game with, and what designs they had on the X-Men. A week before, Jean and Storm took the jet to scope out Bishop Pharmaceuticals. The cross-country flight took over half an hour – slow for the jet, but they had to be more careful than usual to avoid detection. The pair returned just before a Danger Room session.
"Good news or bad?" Scott asked them when everyone was suited up.
"Looks like Emma was telling the truth," Storm said. "Whether that's good news or not remains to be seen."
"The factory is just a bit south of the Canadian border, northeast of Bellingham, up in the mountains," Jean added. "Right where Emma said. It's only accessible by one road, or by air. I did a quick scan and found a few people thinking about this party."
"How does security look?"
Storm shrugged. "Couldn't tell from our altitude, which probably means pretty light. We took a few photos that we can look at later."
"Good job, ladies," Scott said. "And you're just in time for the giant robots."
"My specialty." Storm led the way into the Danger Room.
Then Saturday was upon them. Sabere found herself struggling back into The Dress, with Emma's stylists swarming around her, fixing up her hair and applying makeup. In the flurry of tying laces and adjusting cleavage, Sabere caught glimpses of herself in the mirror and did a double-take every time. Her eyes were dramatically brushed with black and gray, and her lips got a shimmering bronze gloss. Her hair was being twisted back with silver pins, and a few strands hung stylishly free. At last one of them draped a simple silver necklace with one large pearl around her perfumed neck, and Sabere was quite suddenly left alone to stare at her transformed reflection.
In spite of everything, she thought that she looked bearable. Probably because there's still not enough cleavage, she thought grimly. She stepped closer – the 3-inch heels were mostly broken in – and inspected her eyes, her hair, feeling like she was scrutinizing a mask. She may look beautiful, but she didn't look like her. It was safer that way, to disappear under glamour, but she was already waiting for the moment when she could slip away from the party and into the familiar uniform.
Kurt knocked and let himself in. To Sabere's envy, he was already in uniform. He shook his head a little at the sight of her.
"You might not believe me, liebchen, but you look lovely."
She smiled a little and saw her reflection mimic the gesture. It wasn't her smile, not with the seductive eyes and the painted mouth. Kurt stepped closer and took her hand.
"Can I kiss you, or will you be punished for smudged makeup?" he whispered.
"I'll take the chance." She was almost taller than him with the heels, but when he took her waist and gently kissed her, everything else faded from her mind.
"Be safe," she said when they parted.
"Me? I will be doing what I do best. You are trapped spying in a high-society function." His face fell a little. "I wanted to be at your side."
"I know." She drew him into another embrace. "I would have like that."
They stood there another moment, still hoping for some last-minute change, that the whole mission was off or maybe Sabere didn't need to be stuffed into a decadent gown. But they both felt Xavier's summons, and Kurt held her tighter and 'ported them both down to the jet. Storm and Jean were wrapped in thick fine wool coats, and the men were wearing old-fashioned coats with short capes across the shoulders. Bobby, who was partnered with Sabere, gave her coat to Kurt and stepped back. She let him slide the coat over her shoulders, appreciating its concealment and Bobby's gesture. Xavier studied them all and nodded in approval.
"You'll meet with Emma and the rest of her organization about five miles north of the entrance to the road," he explained. "Two limousines will take you up to the facility. The rest you know." His blue gaze swept to Rogue, reminding them of the mission's final goal. "Good luck."
The seat felt different under luxurious fabrics instead of armored leather. Sabere found herself crossing and re-crossing her legs. She envied Storm, who had shed her coat, confidently piloting in the stiletto heels with her hair, dyed black, lying smoothly across her bare shoulders. If she was as anxious as Sabere, she hid it well.
The jet dropped through Pacific Northwest cloud cover and settled in a clearing just off the road. Two limousines, black with white logos on the doors, were waiting, barely visible in the night. As she had expected for Washington weather, it was a chilly summer night. She followed the more experienced X-Men to the cars as two men in long black coats opened the doors to usher them in. There were no welcomes from either side.
Sabere found herself between Kurt and Logan in the white hierarchy's limo. Emma was draped in a fur-trimmed white cape that concealed whatever gown she was wearing. A stocky but still handsome man in a gray tuxedo with a ruffled white tie sat next to her – presumably the White King. Four other white-clad beauties sat across from the X-Men. No one smiled. Sabere tried to look over their shoulders out the window, but all she could see of the night was her own doll-like reflection.
At last they came to a stop. Emma sat forward, her cold blue eyes sweeping the X-Men. "Scott and Kitty will be waiting in the other car. Jean and I will be listening for them." One perfect eyebrow arched up as she glared at them. "I don't mean to sound petty, but keep in mind that you are currently representing our organization. If anything goes wrong, rest assured that ours will be the first response from the mutant community, and it will not be kind."
"We wouldn't expect anything else," Logan retorted. Emma smirked and led the way out of the limo. Sabere only had time for a last glance at Kurt before he 'ported out to get Rogue and play his part. She took a deep breath and followed Logan out into the night. Game time.