Disclaimer: AU to X3! Not making any money from this. Corrinth owns Stifle and Vixen, Blaze is mine, Marvel retain all rights to all other characters, all knowledge of US military comes from watching Stargate SG1!
Above and Beyond: Scene 5"Sorry mon Chere," he apologised, catching sight of Blaze's head and bare shoulders through the warm mist. Her eyes were closed, face raised to the shower as her hands ran backwards from her face through her wet hair. "Gambit not know you were in here."
"S'okay," Blaze gargled, "You can do my back." She chucked something at him that he caught with a flourish. It was a white bar of soap, smelling mildly of vanilla and speckled with little bubbles on the surface.
"Since when am I gonna ever pass up on dat?" Gambit wondered out loud. Blaze didn't reply; she was too busy swigging from a silver hip flask. Gambit frowned, "Where you get the liquor Petite?"
"Bedside table drawer," she replied flippantly. "Just don't tell Logan, I told him I couldn't find any alcohol."
"You screwed up Cherie…"
"Takes one to know one."
"When you start drinkin' again anyway? I t'ought your liver was shot."
Blaze didn't answer, not straight away anyway. She was having a hard time rationalising it to herself as it was, without debating it with her walking conscience aka Remy le Beau. She'd started drinking again when her recent ex Indigo, an empath, had #suggested# she should. He'd made it feel good again. It wasn't a happy knowledge, and she knew she'd pay later for her indulgences, but for now she was pushing it all from her mind.
"Are you coming in, or are you just going to watch?" Blaze finally asked, looking over at him through the tendrils of sinuous steam. Provocatively shifting her body she pouted, saying, "C'mon Remy, live a little. We might all be dead tomorrow."
"What you playin' at Laura?" Gambit wondered, taking a few steps towards her over the slippery cold tiles. Blaze reached out a hand and took the soap out of his palm. Her long hair and eyelashes were that much darker in the water, making her seem even paler. Her skin was flawless, her eyes taunting him, daring him to look away from her face and down at the rest of her.
"Payback," Blaze murmured as Gambit stepped under the flow of hot water. He gasped as it scalded him, why did she have to have it so hot? Then Remy ran his fingers back through his tangled mop of red-brown hair in an action that pulled the muscles in his arms and across his torso tight. When he put his arms down again, Blaze was stood very close, but not quite touching. She smiled coyly at him and gave him back the soap. Then slowly, elegantly, she turned around. Very gently, Remy lifted her wet hair from the nape of her neck and placed it over her left hand shoulder. Only then did he start to touch her, rubbing the thick lather of the soap over her soft skin in a careful circular motion. Blaze sighed, and her eyes rolled back in their sockets. Payback is good, Blaze thought, and this is only just the start…
…They sat on the floor of the shower, water still pouring down on them like a tropical rainstorm, steam like dragon's breath enveloping them completely in this world apart from everything else they knew. Gambit had his back to the wall and his legs stretched out in front of him. His eyes were closed, as were Blaze's as she sat between his limbs with her head back against his shoulder, long silken throat exposed. They both breathed the vapour in deeply, neither saying a word. Payback was good, Remy thought, I should misbehave more often…
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Mystique finally appeared on Logan's watch. He brought her into the apartment with minimal ceremony. Instantly on seeing her old mentor again, Stifle clamped down on Mystique's powers with her own mutation-disabling ability. Mystique accepted the rough treatment with an abrupt dignity. A haughty sneer filled her blue features as she set her eyes upon Magneto's one-time 'daughter'. Stifle only responded by folding her arms defensively and staring Mystique down. It's a good job, Stifle thought, that I've had time to shower, change, nap and eat something. I don't think I could stomach this bitch without it.
Gambit and Blaze came in from the kitchen at the sound of Mystique's arrival. Like Logan, both of the ex-thieves and Stifle had found clothes to fit them in the apartment's other rooms. Gambit wore a grey vest and dark blue sweatpants. Blaze had on a v-necked, deep green, patterned wrap-over dress. Stifle wore blue jeans and a black skinny t-shirt. Mystique looked them all over coolly, her sneer not dropping once.
"Nice to see you've made yourselves at home," the shapeshifter decided in her million enslaved voices. "Benefit of having used all of your bodies, one way or another, I know what size clothes you all wear." Her eyes wandered over Logan very slowly, dropping lower. Wolverine folded his arms and scowled.
"If you were that good a host Mystique," the feral growled, "You would've laid on a meal. Now get on with it, tell us what you know."
"Charming as always, Wolverine," the changeling drawled. She moved predatorily to perch on the chaise longue, leaning back into its embrace with her long legs crossed. No one else moved, except for Gambit who took a deck of cards from his pocket and started to shuffle them. Mystique blanched briefly, then steeled herself and began, "The man behind this is General William Kincaid. His reasons are the usual, human superiority and enslavement or death for all mutants. Why you X-Men continue to persevere in your ridiculous ideals of coexistence when men like Kincaid…"
"Save it," snapped Logan, "Keep to the point."
"Fine," Mystique drawled. "Kincaid has his puppet politicians keeping the President's seat warm in DC. They are passing legislation as Kincaid sees fit. Make no mistake, Kincaid and those he answers to are in complete control of this country."
"What about the other X-Men?" Blaze demanded.
"I was getting to that," griped Mystique. "Most mutants Kincaid has arrested under his new protocols are being incarcerated at military detention centres. They are kept down through violence and intimidation. However those mutants not so easily subdued, such as the X-Men and the Brotherhood, have been treated differently.
"Kincaid has a ship," continued Mystique, "A vast military craft stationed at anchor in international waters where he can do what the Hell he likes, without fear of repercussions from the international community. That's his base of operations, out in the Pacific Ocean. That's where he's keeping our associates."
"On a boat?" Wolverine argued, "An' the X-Men are just taking it like some kinda cruise vacation? I don't think so, not even Cyke would stoop that low."
"Of course not," Mystique returned dryly. "I saw Iceman being taken on board. He was in some sort of induced coma. I'd imagine that's how Kincaid is storing them all. I don't doubt that he also has the means to wake them again. He has been torturing them for information though, X-Men and Brotherhood alike."
"How is it, Mystique, that you're so sure on parts of this story, and yet others you're purely prognosticating?" Stifle asked coldly.
"My contact only has access to certain parts of the ship…" Mystique began.
"Your contact?" Wolverine enquired, raising a hairy eyebrow, "How do you mean?"
"She means she's been involved with one of Kincaid's men," Blaze filled in, meeting Mystique's eyes.
"How do you come to that conclusion?" Stifle wanted to be sure.
"Because its what Blaze would have done," Mystique answered wryly. "I know all about your liaisons with Pyro, Blaze. Make no mistake, you'll answer for that when we are done here."
"Bring it on," Blaze challenged, "I've kicked your backside before Mystique."
"Can we keep to the damn point here?" Wolverine growled. "What are you proposing we do? Board the ship?"
"Absolutely," Mystique replied. "I have already secured us our transportation."