Title: Power Behind the Throne Part 12

Rating: MA

Author: Ethiercn

Disclaimer: I don't own them

"Felix, get the wheelchair," Thomas commanded as the SUV pulled up in front of Shaw's mansion.

"I don't need a wheelchair," Shaw snapped weakly.

Thomas chose not to listen and hustled a complaining Shaw into the chair. Angel and Vance followed them inside the mansion and watched as they made their way upstairs. With a quick look at Angel, Vance made his way to Shaw's office and computers. Angel followed to keep watch in the corridor.

"What are you doing here?" Thomas demanded in surprise as he came down the hallway and slid his cell phone back into his pocket.

"I thought you might want to debrief me, like last time," Angel said quickly but loudly enough for Vance to hear on the other side of the door. She ignored Thomas' raised eyebrow. "How is Shaw?"

Thomas' face closed off. "Concerned about your father? It is unclear what caused the attack. Perhaps the other mutant did. It seems that the X-Men are behind this."

Angel frowned. She had heard that X-Men refrain before. The mutant had seemed so much like Frost. "It didn't look like Iceman," she offered.

"With mutants, anything is possible. You should know that," he raised a hand to her cheek. "Shaw will be fine. It would be best, however, to humor him over the next couple days. Is there anything else you wanted? If not," he began to move around her, "I need to get some things from Shaw's office."

No, Angel thought, he would discover Vance. Panicked, she moved closer and did the only thing she could think of. She kissed him.

For a second, he was surprised, and she thought hopefully that it would be the end of it. Then, he pulled her closer. He weaved a hand though her hair and tilted her head back. His tongue entered her mouth.

Eventually, Thomas pulled away from a moment to look at her. Her skin was flushed, her breathing heavy, she was shaking, she refused to meet his eyes, but her hands rested on him. "This is sudden." He slid his hands down her back. How the Queen must have chuckled when assigning him this duty, he thought not for the first time.

"Yes," she whispered. Where was Vance, she thought, she needed to get Thomas away from the door. She forced herself to stand still and looked up at Thomas.

Thomas studied her face for a moment. She seemed willing, he thought, and he was more than entitled. Neither employer would care; in fact, Shaw approved, and the Queen wanted her alive and malleable. He captured Angel's lips with his. His hands cupped her ass, and she didn't stop him. Her hands tugged hesitantly at his shirt, and to his delight, she kissed him back. "This way," he whispered, pulling her down the hallway and into the living room. He shut the door. He gently untied and removed her cape. His tie and shirt followed. He kissed her forehead and then, more passionately, her mouth. He fell back on the couch as he pulled her on top of him. He trailed kisses down her neck, and then began to work on the fastenings of her corset. She whimpered, but raised his head so she could find his lips with hers. He gently slid the corset off. She shivered as his hands touched her.

Angel tried to stop her shaking. She closed her eyes and tried to pretend it was Vance undoing her top, running his hands and lips over her breasts. She saw a bloodied body and stifled a cry. She couldn't afford to lose anyone else, and so forced herself to stay still. Forced herself to run her hands over Thomas, to move against him as his hand ventured lower. She couldn't stop the shiver of revulsion that went though her.

Slowly, Thomas told himself, moving one of his hands away from the top of Angel's pants. Don't spook her anymore than she already is. Slowly, he repeated, as he moved his mouth once more to her breast. Slowly, he repeated to himself, enjoying the feel of her smooth skin warm under his hands. He knew the easier he made it for her, the higher the chance of her loyalty. He shifted her slightly on his lap as she arched against him. He took a nipple into his mouth. Her hands dug into his shoulders.

"Sir," a voice said as the door slammed open.

Thomas dragged his lips away and looked over Angel's shoulder. "What?" he growled at Ralph.

"Shaw wants you," the other man's voice was thick with anger. He stared at both of them. Thomas felt Angel cringe in embarrassment.

Gently, Thomas moved Angel off of him, shielding her from Ralph's eyes. "I'm coming," he kissed Angel's shoulder, gently put the cape over her, and pulled on his shirt as he moved from the couch. He walked to the door and paused for a moment to note Ralph's angry stance before the man left the room ahead of him.

That, Thomas thought, needed watching.

Hair still damp from the shower, Angel pulled the sweater over her head and then wrapped her arms around herself as she nervously paced the room. She still felt dirty. She worried about Thomas coming, worried about Vance's reaction, worried about the knowledge that she would do whatever it took to keep Vance alive, even if it meant letting Thomas . . . She shook her head and continued pacing.

The door opened. She jumped. Before she could move, Vance crossed the room. He cupped her face in his hands and then pulled her close.

She stood rigid in his embrace, feeling his anger. "I'm ... "she began.

"I'm not mad at you," he said softly. At that, she relaxed into him. She felt his hands on her hair, a gentle kiss on the top of her head. She pressed closer for an instant. She closed eyes and reality came crashing back. "Go," she whispered, stepping out of his embrace and feeling cold again.

He ran his thumb over her lips before kissing her gently. "The device is in. I'll tell the others about this ice mutant." He kissed her again. "Barricade the door," he whispered and then left.

Bobby Drake woke up. He rubbed his eyes and groaned. He had nodded off while on duty again. If Scott got wind of this, he would deliver one of his everlasting lectures. Still, Bobby conceded, falling asleep so often wasn't good, and he always felt more tried afterwards, as if he put though a wringer.

"Bobby!" Warren stuck his head though the door. "Professor wants us. Something about a recent car accident." The Archangel's eyes rested on the White Queen. "Any change yet?"

"No. She's still a vegetable. I'm coming." Bobby rubbed the back of his neck. Maybe, he should talk to Hank.