Disclaimer: I don't own any characters except my characters. Which are quite a few this time around. Let's try it this way: I don't own any Marvel characters that happen to show up in the upcoming chapters and which I'm sure you'll recognise without any need to name long lists. I also do not own Jenny, which Dizi created a few years back and which is a fabulous character. I strongly recommend you read her adventures with Wolverine and the X-Men.
15. Stubbornness is all around
Chantal Moreau slid through both antiquities and modernities on display. Some were plain silly, like the button supposedly lost by Madonna during her first concert in France, while others were worth the attention, like a few unfinished sketches by Dali. Very little, though, was worthy of the incredibly high prices they often reached when being auctioned. Of course, those prices weren't exactly paid for those objects, but for certain other goods that came attached to the auctioned items.
Waiting for Gautier, Mystique stopped in front of a painting which included a sleeping disembodied head and a flying woman over a curtain of fishing nets. Hot Pink with Cool Grey, the frame informed, by Milena Pavlovic-Barili. The signature on the painting, though, claimed authorship to MyLena Beloved.
"Ah, I see the lovely pastiche has struck your interest." Chantal turned to the smiling Gautier. "Amazing, isn't it? The painter managed to imitate the original painting with perftect attention to the details, but the face of the woman is in fact a portrait of the imitator's wife, which turns this painting into a work of art within a fake work of art. It would fetch a very high price for that particularity alone."
Which meant it was going to reach a stupidly high price.
"Have you chosen your token?" He lowered the voice slightly, to make sure the other people, also waiting for the auction to begin, couldn't overhear him.
"Madonna's button," and she couldn't hold back a tinge of scorn. Well, at least the piece was so worthless she didn't have to pay for it. The porcelain vase she had bought the day before, on the other hand, had piled one hundred euros to the eight hundred euro instalment she was supposed to pay for her true order.
Gautier praised her wise choice and stepped away to organise the transaction. Chantal still had one hour to wait before the auction started. In that hour, Gautier would instruct two or three people to bid for the button up until a certain price.
It would be a boring period, bidding for worthless objects until she managed to pay the two hundred thousand euros. Sighing, Mystique thought about Hyde. She had been almost certain he'd be back in Paris the day after Picard's death. Of course she had no way of knowing for sure if Roland really had killed the operative, but it was the most sensible thing to do. Maybe her suspicions were wrong. Then again, the delay of his return could have that exact reason. Nevertheless, she wished he was around. She really had nothing interesting to do and toying with the clone would have made up for the dullness.
Ah, another painting by the Serbian Milena; one of her many portraits, this time. Another forgery, naturally. Well, reproduction or pastiche or whatever they called it, since it wasn't being sold as an authentic piece. Mystique looked at it intently, looking for any purposeful mistakes that... Ha! An ipod, there, on the window sill.
Hearing approaching footsteps, she turned around to face Gautier. The people in the room were starting to move on to the adjoining room, where the auction would start in another quarter of an hour.
"I understand he was seen last night."
Chantal nodded.
"An unfortunate accident."
"And once more, he didn't kill the witness."
She avoided a smirk.
"Killing would call much more attention," she reminded, "and he's supposed to be dead. Besides, the description is vague enough that the authorities won't rush to proclaim a dead mutant alive, especially when his expertise has always been killing, not stealing. If he was to kill someone, though..."
Gautier grunted a 'right, right' but didn't seem much reassured.
"You have received the real Milena Barili painting, correct?"
"Don't say that name aloud," he hushed, sweating nervously.
Mystique could have rolled her eyes, but Chantal simply shrugged. The three forged paintings by the Serbian painter had been listed to be auctioned in a block a week before the robbery, not to mention none of them looked like the stolen one, so Gautier really had nothing to worry about.
"You should still tell him to be careful."
"I will. Shall we delay the next retrieval?"
The man shook his head. By now they were alone in the wide room, to the exception of two employees collecting the items that were to be auctioned in the upcoming session.
"No. The customers have already been informed of the item's availability, but maybe we should pause after that one." He took a step towards the adjoining room and Chantal followed him. "I must warn you that the Gulo Operation may be shut down soon despite your... persistence."
He meant stubbornness, really. And yes, she was aware. If she didn't possess so many resources, they would have shut it down after the first failed attempt.
"You should remind your colleagues that successfully killing a superpowered hero will make the price of the ammunition sky rocket. Especially because no one knows how to produce more of it."
"I have already done so." He stopped and looked intently at her. "I hope you appreciate how much I'm doing for your sake."
Because he obviously didn't appreciate all the stolen paintings she'd been siphoning into his hands as payment for all that support.
"Have you managed to procure what I requested?"
He handed her a card with a phone number.
"Text that number with the word 'ammonia'. Second and fourth letters as capitals. Then add time and coordinates."
That meant half the payment had already been made, and the other half would be done after the operation.
"Are they aware this is a suicide mission?"
"They're aware they'll be facing a deadly so far unknown mutant possessing a very strong healing factor. But they're also aware they've got weaponry that will eventually kill him, if they do their job right."
Good. Now it was a matter of waiting for Hyde to return.
"Shall we go in? I've got a button to acquire."
It was a wonderful August day; sunny, dry, hot. Hank didn't feel capable of enjoying it, though.
"You got to relax," Bobby informed him between beer sips, sitting on the kitchen table. "Isabel is out of danger, isn't she?"
"It isn't that simple," Kitty explained for Hank. "She's acting in a strange way."
"And how do you know that?" He pointed out. "For all we know, she might actually be showing her true colours now. I mean, what makes you so sure that the Isabel we've all seen around wasn't just pretending to be nice and friendly?"
"And in reality she is stubborn, irrational, depressed and probably suicidal. Do you really think so, Bobby?"
"I was thinking more in the lines of anti-social."
"Can you just stop and think about what she went through?"
"Robert, Catherine, please." Hank waved away Kitty's apology, but he was truly feeling upset. "Isabel does not trust me. I have tried everything in my power to make her understand that I intend to respect her wishes, even if I don't agree with them, but still she distrusts me."
Bobby slapped his friend's back, offering a just uncapped beer.
"I know, Hank. It really sucks. But you can't let it get to you."
"Thanks, Bobby." He took a sip and shot Bobby a dirty glare. "You have frozen it."
Bobby's genial smile was unbeatable, though.
"Have I? Sorry, must have slipped..."
Giving in to temptation, Hank flinged the bottle at Bobby.
"Heads up," the quickly iced-up mutant hollered, eluding its trajectory and turning the projectile into a ball of ice.
"Careful!"
But it was too late for Kitty's warning, as Logan opened the door and barely had time to unsheathe his claws and swing at the incoming ice slug.
"Having fun?" He growled.
"Why are you looking at me? I was just helping Hank test your reflexes... You know how doctors love testing reflexes."
The man snarled, unamused, and entered the kitchen, heading for a beer.
"I thought you said you were going to get Creed for a training session," Kitty asked.
"Scott was. And is. I ain't in no mood t'hear 'im growlin' again."
"Ah," Bobby grinned. "He's still sulking that he can't see Isabel, huh?"
Logan snorted and took a long sip.
"Damn, it's hot today."
"Maybe I should go and ask Lilia if she wants to play in the swimming pool." Kitty got up and sighed. "Sometimes I think Creed is manipulating the girl, making sure that she keeps asking for him. I mean... have you ever overheard him coaxing Lilia into asking about her mother, or wanting to see her? The poor kid is so confused and it doesn't look like he's helping her to overcome it!"
Logan considered the idea but didn't comment. Hank sighed.
"Yes. She grew quite a degree of resentment towards her mother."
He leaned on the wall and sighed.
"It has occurred to me that the girl may require therapy to overcome it, but Emma assured me that a child's natural reaction to a stressful event tends to involve outbursts of various natures as well as nightmares. It is considered a natural coping mechanism and, once the child is reassured all is well, the situation should resolve itself. Therapy will only be encouraged if the abnormal behaviour intensifies or, alternately, does not abate over the course of a few weeks."
"The question is if she is getting reassurement from Creed," Bobby grumbled.
Hank shook his head.
"I do believe he is doing his best to assuage the child's fears sensibly, and Emma concurs. However, I'm not so sure if he's doing anything to mend the damage to the bond between mother and daughter. Unfortunately, Isabel isn't helping either." He shook his head. "I don't understand. First, she threatened bodily harm to all and everyone in order to leave the infirmary; now, she refuses to set a foot outside, even if it is to spend time with the child."
"At least Jenny convinced her to start eating. Maybe she should talk to her again, make her realise that Lilia needs her around."
"Hmm." Logan opened the door and shook his head. "Or maybe ya should go an' get the girl out o' the way t'see if Scotty can manage t'drag Creed's ass inside."
Kitty nodded and set off.
Bobby sat on the counter, having gotten a second beer.
"Has he... you know, growled at the kid or yelled at her or something?"
Logan shook his head.
"It's like ya said, he's sulkin'. And since the kid starts cryin' whenever he's away fer longer than an hour or so, he knows he can get away with anythin' short of attackin' someone."
"So..." Bobby, frowned, his voice revealing irritation. "He probably is fueling the kid on, telling her to keep on asking for him."
Hank shook his head vehemently.
"That is not my impression at all," he cut in. "Lilia is feeling very insecure and frightened, which is further compounded by her prolongued presence in an environment she does not feel at home in. Isabel's miscarriage was three days ago, it is only natural she wishes to cling to her father as a source of assurance and normalcy."
"Hm. Anyway, if he is fuelin' her on," and Logan dropped the beer bottle into the rubbish bin, "he'll have t'backtrack real soon. Bishop an' Cannonball are just finishin' collectin' intel on Gautier's, and he can't have the kid cryin' fer him at every hour o' the day and night once we decide t' make a move. Especially 'cause he needs t'go back t' Paris under the guise o'Hyde ta finish gettin' information out o' Mystique. Bishop said she's started buyin' stuff at Gautier's auction house, some online, some directly t' the auctionin' house. We gotta find out what she's payin' fer."
"But what if he truly is distressed himself?" Logan looked quizzically at Hank's suggestion. "Emma is able to sense how turbulent and intense his emotions are at the moment."
"Yeah, but she also said Creed's in love wi'the woman."
Hank sighed at the gross exaggeration.
"Emma's words were 'some semblance of affection', Logan, and that's hardly being in love."
"Ya know what he told Scott," of course he knew! Hank had heard the same words too. "He thinks he owns the woman."
Again, he was perfectly aware of that. There was a reason Hank had joined Scott's design of guiding Isabel away from her subservient role in the bizarre relationship she and Creed somehow maintained.
"The only thing causin' intense emotions here is him thinkin' we're tryin' t'get her away from 'im."
Hank almost suggested rephrasing Logan's idea to replace 'thinking' with 'knowing'.
"But if he can't keep himself together in the Danger Room, there's no point sendin' 'im t' Paris."
"Forget the Danger Room," Bobby grumbled. "If he can't keep his temper in check when anyone's around, how's he gonna keep his cover with Mystique? He'd probably lose it and would try to gut her the first time she aggravated him over anything."
"And t'make it worse," Logan pointed out. "Last night, Mystique went out and impersonated Sabretooth again. We can't stick around with our arms crossed fer much longer! And if Creed's serious about puttin' an end t' these assholes, he has better shape up."
"Well, why don't you tell him Mystique's impersonating him?" Bobby suggested. "That would motivate him to go back to Paris and fix the situation, wouldn't it?"
"It'd also motivate 'im t' kill her 'fore we could get any proper info, so that idea's off the table." Logan grunted. "This keeps on fer much longer and I'm goin' over Summers' head. I'll head t' Paris alone and I'll have a very final chat with Mystique."
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