Mystique had grown tired of taunting her more quickly than Ororo had expected. Perhaps, a full day of tempting Logan had left her drained. I'll have to ask him about that tomorrow. She had fallen asleep on the twin bed they had put in her cell, and soon after, Ororo felt her own head drooping sleepily.
"You asleep, Ororo?" Sabertooth's voice roused her from her drowsing. Again, he used her first name. It was disturbing. A number of conflicting feelings twisted within her. Part of her was disgusted by his assumption of cozy familiarity when he was nothing but a killer. Another part of her struggled to believe he was as Xavier insisted, not evil, just deeply disturbed. And if he was human in there, somewhere inside of his deranged mind, that part of him deserved to be treated as a human. And there was something else disturbing her as well. As Ororo looked up to see Sabertooth's painfully intense gaze, she realized she had yet another feeling inside of her: attraction.
"Mmm," she mumbled sleepily. "Not really, no. But I wouldn't mind getting a few winks in." Just in case he didn't take the hint, she added. "And it wouldn't be a bad idea for you to get some sleep as well."
He grunted. "I don't need much sleep. And...the name's Victor, you know."
"I know. I just thought I would keep things formal."
Sabertooth sneered. "Oh, well fuck me for being so informal."
Ororo was momentarily taken aback by the quick ferocity of his response. He's on such a hair trigger. "It's okay, Sabert...Victor. Maybe the formality is unnecessary. I guess I can call you Victor." That seemed to calm him somewhat, but his shoulders were tense as if preparing to strike out.
Neither of them said anything for a few minutes, and Ororo started drowsing off again. "So how did Xavier convince you to stop being a thief?"
It took a moment for Ororo to wake up again and process the question. "Hmm? Oh." She paused to rub her eyes. "Let's see. Being a thief wasn't that wonderful. I mean I'm good at it," and a little smile spread across her face, "but I didn't want that to be my life. Xavier's a good man. He allowed me to get a good education, helped me control my powers. And I agree with his ideals." She looked at Sabertooth...Victor, expecting to see a sneer, but encountered an unreadable mask instead. Well, I guess impassivity is better than hostility.
Suddenly, she was uncomfortable with the silence. "Why did you join Magneto?" she asked to fill the space.
"The money," he responded without hesitation. Ah, cynical enterprise. Then, he added, "that and he lets me kill people, especially humans." A stone dropped into her stomach. The sociopath had emerged.
"And you like to kill people?" she asked, regretting the words as soon as they were out of her mouth. She had no interest walking down memory lane with Victor's sick thoughts. Her body stiffened as she prepared for his despicable response.
"Yeah," he said simply. "I guess." There was certainly no remorse in his answer, but he seemed to notice her distaste for the subject matter and, to her surprise, changed the subject. "Nice wildlife in New York. Not as nice as in Canada, but real nice."
"Yes," she agreed awkwardly, thrown off by the change in conversation. "And not as nice as in Kenya, but very nice." She smiled slightly. "Well, maybe not so much woods as savannahs."
"You hunt?"
She laughed in surprise. "No, I don't."
"What are you a veggie or something?" Victor looked vaguely indignant.
She laughed again despite herself. "No, I'm not. I'm just surprised that you asked me that." This is such an odd conversation. On second thought, she supposed she should have expected it. She couldn't imagine Victor spent much time working on his conversational skills. What amazed her was that he was even trying to have a normal conversation in the first place. "No, I don't hunt. I just don't have any interest."
"Yeah, I forgot. You like things gentle. I guess that's why you're with these weaklings."
She didn't say anything. His words were too banal to be offensive, and she felt no need to respond to them.
"So I guess you like to sleep with weaklings, too."
Her mouth dropped open.
"The Runt, Wolverine, you sleeping with him?"
She shook her head. "Wolverine is hardly a weakling." Then she stopped herself. "I'm not talking about this with you."
"Fine. I don't give a shit."
Victor fell silent. Goddess, what was that about? She expected that as before, he would resume talking after a few minutes. As the time stretched out, though, it seemed he had lost his desire to talk. Ororo was undeniably sleepy by then, and saw no need to stay awake on the off chance Victor might regain an interest in conversation. For some reason, she felt bad drifting off to sleep without making a placating gesture. So just before she put her feet up on the ottomon to settle in for a few hours nap, she said, "Good night, Victor." Her greeting was met with silence, but as she felt the weight of sleep drag her into unconsciousness, she thought she heard Victor whisper, "Good night, Ororo."