Disclaimer: I don't own any characters except Irbis and several innocent short-lived bystanders; everything else is Marvel's only.
8. Taking the Tiger by its Fangs
Perched on the terraced roof of the neighbouring building, Creed saw Irbis smile quietly at the man as the car reached her building and parked. He couldn't help the feeling that he was taking the whole whim too far, really. He should just kill her, once he was sure the X-Men wouldn't come snooping after him, that is, as he still didn't want anyone to connect the stupid girl to him or his safe house. Or to discover her DNA secrets.
Irbis and the man were inside the car for a few moments, then he got out and gallantly opened the door for her, escorting her to the building door. Creed couldn't help wondering if she would be worth all the trouble. She better be. Although he was sure she was; she had spirit enough in her when she wanted to, not to mention her cooking and cleaning skills alone made it worth the whole beating about the bush. His Wausau house just wasn't the same without her sprucing it up.
Creed saw the man's hand slide onto her back, right below the waist line, and he made a mental note to literally unscrew that hand before killing him. And even if Irbis was too stupid to fear a beating, he was still going to teach her a painful lesson. What the hell was she doing, going on dates? She knew damn well she belonged to him. They stopped at the door and stood there silently, then the guy leaned forward for a kiss and Creed growled. Nevertheless Irbis evaded it (good for her), but smiled coyly and… invited him in?
Creed frowned, surprised. She had invited him in? On a first date?! What the hell was the girl up to? The next moment, the lights were on in her apartment and he could see the two in the living room. He strained his eyes, trying to follow each movement. They were sitting side by side on the sofa, too close, each holding a wide chalice with a dark drink, and the guy reached a hand for Irbis's face. The mutant growled when she took a hold of his hand and held it softly against her cheek. She was either on another of her stupid streaks or she was up to no good.
Irbis was smiling as they both continued sipping from their glasses, chatting. Finally, almost an eternity later, they got up and Irbis let the man embrace her, fully and lovingly. Cold rage permeating every fibre of his body, Creed made up his mind to break in. And the sooner the better! Just then the light of her bedroom was switched on and he saw both of them fall on her single bed, still cuddling. The man remained on the bed, his back to the window, looking at Irbis when she got up and started stripping for him, unbuttoning her shirt. That was it! Creed got up just as the light vanished, switched off.
Simmering in his rage, he went to the back of the rooftop then sprinted across it, gaining momentum for the wide leap over the street, and landed on Irbis's building rooftop. Barely listening to anything but his own blood boiling, he slipped down the stairs until he reached her apartment, on the second floor.
Cringing at what he knew he was going to listen, Creed stood still at the entrance door and listened. He was momentarily taken aback when he didn't hear anything. He took a step back, the obvious reason for the silence being that he was eavesdropping at the wrong apartment, and checked the door number. But no, that was Irbis's flat. Even because her scent dangled softly in the corridor only to strengthen at the door.
The mutant hesitated. The situation had suddenly taken the undertones of a trap. The bedroom was too far from the door for him to distinguish the sound of breathing, but he strained his ears, listening... carefully... ... ... absolute silence... wood creaking softly under someone's light movement... Were they just cuddling in bed? Sleeping? Or... Creed couldn't suppress the growl and used his claws to silently open the lock, which wasn't locked (what the hell was the stupid girl thinking, not locking the door?!).
Irbis's scent was strong inside the house, and Creed wasn't even aware of how deeply he inhaled that well-known fragrance. He progressed silently across the wide living room until he reached the tiny corridor that connected her bedroom and bathroom with the living room. The bedroom door was only slightly open and although he couldn't see anything other than the closet wooden doors, he could clearly hear two people breathing, one calmly awake, the other sleeping heavily.
Bells once more rang in Creed's mind, but he couldn't just pull back now, wait till the guy left so he could follow him home, and only then kill him. Besides, he needed to know exactly what was going on – see it with his own eyes – and, maybe more importantly, what had happened since the lights had been switched off.
"De house isn't dat big. How long you going to wait?"
Creed was motionless for a second, taken completely by surprise, then clenched his teeth and walked in. Irbis was sitting on a wooden chair facing the bed, watching the man on it sleeping.
"You want a beer?"
He hadn't been in a good mood, and her mellow if hard voice, still directed at the man who was still in her bed, only aggravated him.
"Ya set this up."
Her brown eyes looked at him, even though he couldn't distinguish their colour in the darkness, and the slight dashes of green amidst the hidden browness flashed.
"You don't answer my letters, or my phone calls, or my messages of text," and she got up, fists on her hips. "But you're very fast to kill mans dat dance wid me, hun?"
Oh, so that was it! She was pissed because he had iced the uppity yahoo who had had the nerve to take her out on a date – to a dancing ball, no less – three days before. The girl should have known better.
"Ya're mine," he reminded her, "when assholes think o' gettin' their hands on what's mine... they pay the price."
She took a deep, exasperated breath. Controlled, though. "You want a beer or not?"
But Creed's eyes went over to the man's figure. "He's drug," the girl shrugged, irritated. She wanted to get him out of that room, Creed knew. "Don't go to wake up before morning."
"Drugged, huh?"
"Yes." But as eager to take him away as she was, she didn't try to push him out. "I put medicine to sleep in de wine. He is only de… what you call… bait. He is only de bait for you to contact me."
Creed maintained his eyes on the man, sensing Irbis's certainty slowly become aprehension.
"If are more mans die dat have a connection wid me, de police can investigate… De X-Men can return, if dey know is a problem."
Grinning, though it was too dark for the girl to see it, Creed asked her if she thought he was afraid of the morons. But Irbis just sighed, groaned and shook her head. Still, she was right. Having deaths pinned on her wouldn't help make her invisible to the world again, and that was something she needed to be if he wanted her back in Wausau.
"Ya ain't got nuthin' stronger than beer?"
There was hopefulness when she breathed out a no, and Creed finally receded into the living room. As he switched on the lights though, she rushed over and switched them off.
"People can see everysing in de house when de lights are turned. We can talk perfectly like dis."
Creed glanced at the sheer fabric of the curtains. "Why don't ya just get proper curtains?"
"Because you couldn't spy me so well if I had proper curtains," she said matter-of-factly, sitting down on the creeking sofa with a royally straight back.
He turned to her, frowning. "What gave ya the idea I was spyin' on ya?"
She hesitated, looking at her hands. "You kill Tony… and de same night we went to de dance! So you had to be spying."
He paced the small room. That didn't explain why she hadn't got thicker curtains, since she'd been living in that house for nearly a month when he'd aced the ass-hole. Maybe she couldn't afford them just yet and the spy thing had been a spur of the moment. Curiously, though, he didn't feel aggravated that she'd baited him out of the shadows. But then again, he mused, it was about time they did have a pow-how even if he had been waiting to make sure the X-assholes weren't about to return.
Creed pulled out a chair and sat opposite her. Let her talk away. Especially because she wanted him to say something, the way she clenched her teeth for a moment gave her away. She wanted an explanation.
Irbis breathed out suddenly, exaperated. "You cannot ignore a message from me and den start kill people because I'm alegadely yours. If I'm so your woman you kill a man wid who I dance, I'm your woman enough for you to answer my messages!"
Creed growled a warning. "Ya think ya can get away from me that easy?"
"No, I think you forget me!" She closed her fists. Was that a hurt undertone? "I think you… don't want to know about me."
Oh, please! She'd baited him because she was hurt over his silence? Really? He thought she'd have gotten over those stupid fuzzy feelings she'd confessed to back in Wausau. But then the girl rubbed her face with both hands and got up, talking about beers in the fridge. When she returned, a six pack in her hands, she seemed to have pulled herself together.
"Okay, let's start wid de start, ok?" She once more sat up very straight on the couch and interlaced her fingers on her lap. "I was stupid. I… I think I didn't really understood my situation. De alien everywhere, like you said. When I went to New York, to de school, I… de situation entered my head. So…"
It was about time! Nevertheless, he didn't say anything; instead, he just reached for one of the beer cans she'd left on the table. She waited until he'd got a long sip and breathed out softly.
"De situation is dis: I can live here ok, no problems. If you don't… aren't interested in me more, I can stay here and make my life." Another pause. See if he bit the bait again, huh? "But de truth is dat… I can have a very better life in Wausau… …working to you."
Ha! That's what she was getting to. She wanted him to say 'come on back and everything's forgiven and forgotten'. Hiding a grin, Creed downed the rest of the beer. He could feel her impatience rising slightly.
"So, Mr Victor Creed, what you want?"
Enough with the silence, then.
"I told ya a thousan' times ya was stupid." Creed breathed out and reached for another can, looked around at the weathered furniture. "Ya can live in this rabbit hole jus' fine, huh?"
"Fine, no," she cut sharply. "But I can live here if has to be."
"No piano…" and Creed looked her in the eye. She was running on stubborness though. Well, if she thought he'd open the game, she had another one coming. "So what d'ya expect from me, huh?"
Oh, yeah. Clenching teeth gave her irritation away, all right. She wanted to get as many privileges back as she possibly could and was trying hard not to push any limits in order to improve her chances. But if he didn't give her any pointers, she couldn't tell where those limits were.
"I prefer you tell me what you want," and she straightened even more, if it was possible, growing taller on the battered couch. She so did not fit in that hole. "I can adjust me to what you wish."
Nice words. He shook his head though and she looked towards the window.
"Very well. I hope you want me to work in Wausau, in your house. Do de same work I do before."
She looked back at him and Creed thought he could see hesitation so he held his tongue. In a few moments, she had bitten her lower lip, breathed in…
"Before, you pay me four undred dollars…" Oh, she was about to get into deal-breaking waters. "If is possible, now I prefer receive two."
"What?"
"Two undred dollars. Maybe minus. If is possible, I make a book of my uh… de money I spend for month. And if is too much, you can pay me one undred and fifty or one undred…"
She was really trying to appease him.
"What if I don't pay you nuthin'?"
Her body stiffened somewhat.
"And den I pay you to live in your house, hun?"
Yeah, she had definitely taken that joke seriously. Creed shook his head.
"Don't be a moron! Course ya ain't ever gonna be makin' money t'pay me rent an' stuff." She paled somewhat. How could she be so stupid and naïve for somethings and so smart for others? "I was just pushin' yer buttons. Didn't think ya'd be stupid enough t'take it seriously."
Now she was blushing angrily. He found her clenched teeth amusing but it was that 'oh, if only I could' glare that he enjoyed. He wondered what she would do if he were an average Joe. For a moment he considered giving her space to show her true vindicative colours, her mean streak, just to know what she was really capable of.
"At dat time," she broke the silence with a steady if angry voice. "And now?"
Now? He shrugged. "Nuthin'. Ya're too fresh in them X-moron's memories. Ya up an' vanish, an' they'll come in pokin' around, lookin' fer ya."
Which was the reason why he had been keeping tabs on her but avoiding contact. They might still pop in to check on her, see if she was settling down ok. The last thing he needed would be for Logan to catch his scent. Right. He should be having this conversation somewhere else.
"I can resolve dat." The girl said quietly. "I said to my new bosses dat I met someone in New York. He was dere in work for two monts and we met regularly. I said he stop talk to me, in emails, and I pretend I am very depressed… heart broken. I also mention dis to de X-Men. Very uh, what's de word… subrrepticially?"
It's what he always said: stupid as a door for one thing, and smart as the devil for another.
"I have letters all prepared, say dat he contact me and ask me to marry wid him. Says dat he takes care of me and I don't need to worry wid nothing. I can explain to my boss in person or I can send de letter and after phone, to say dat I am going wid him."
"They may want to check him out," it was the only flaw of the plan, at first sight.
"I have pictures of him," she couldn't fully hide the smirk of satisfaction at her notion of a lie well prepared. "A name, a facebook page… de only problem is if dey really want to find him in person. But I think dat can be resolved if I maintain contact wid emails and some photos. One email now, two monts later, six monts later, one year later… and always say I am happy, very busy, a good life wid all de little problems dat normal lives have. And den I finally lose contact. You want to see what I create already?"
It just amazed him how smart the girl could be. Creed could take the extra step of creating a short paper trail to have the phantom husband seem legit. Unless someone was digging up the man's life in detail, no one would notice it was bogus.
"Show it to me," he said, curious, but Irbis stuttered, slightly hunched her shoulders for a moment.
"I don't have computer or internet in de house… I go to a cyberbar. But his name is Michael Davis. I search more popular first and last names twenty years ago. But friends call him Mike. I think is a good touch. I always say his name is Mike, but his name in facebook is Michael."
She had had the smarts of not chosing Smith or Johnson, which, being the most common names, tended to scream alias when disappearing acts were involved. He finished his second can and enjoyed her expression. She had forgotten her anger and was looking at him with an intense gaze that glowed with confidence. She'd come a hell of a long way since her rabitty ways… or maybe this was what she really was. It was enticing, that gaze. Inviting.
"When you want dat I return, you only have to say."
He got another beer. She was so worth all the trouble he had had so far. His first impulse was to say 'now', but it was smarter to check the lie for flaws and fix them first.
"In two or three months," that should give him enough time. The disappointment that coursed through her posture surprised him though.
"And here I thought ya could live in this shit hole just fine!"
That fired her up. "Bem, if is so much time… I like, if be possible, dat I have my guitar back."
He'd forgotten about the darned thing. In a moment he'd reconsidered his previous idea that the girl had been hurt over the idea he'd forgotten about her. She was probably hurt because the scenario meant losing her much loved guitar.
"I'll safe keep it till ya're back," Creed grinned. He couldn't forget about that leverage again.
Her gaze was burning now, and she got up, one relaxed fist on the hip.
"Den I have a proposition. You wanted dat I have sex wid you… well, you don't have to wait two or three monts. Choose a hotel and a day: you get what you want, and I get my guitar. Are you interested?"
Creed laughed. He couldn't help himself. She was serious like all hell, though, and his mirth sure as hell didn't phase her. He liked when she melted at his feet, truth be said; but this upfront attitude was so much better than the hesitant, clueless moron she used to be. He got up, wondering if he couldn't have the best of both worlds, and stepped up to her. Her breathing became a bit more laboured as her heart sped up. Maybe he could.
"What happened t' the scaredy cat ya used ta be, girl?"
She swallowed and parted her lips for a moment before answering.
"I said to you in New York," her voice was hard but breathless, "you don't know me… After you save me, I was afraid. I didn't want dat people see me, recognise me. I was afraid. But I'm tired of be afraid."
He touched her cheek with the back of his fingers, lightly, and she shuddered, eyes fluttering before she got herself under control. Then he snaked his fingers around her neck, held the nape securely. Her throat wasn't able to choke the melting whimper, and she did close her eyes, swallowing hard as she put a hand on his chest to help her balance.
She was so ready… and he had a house outside LA, just an hour away. For a moment he hesitated. She'd have to show up to work the next morning and it was getting late for going, taking his time and coming back in time… Creed kissed her and she kissed back, hungrily, demandingly. That was so how he liked his women!
He broke the kiss and pushed her back.
"Get some clothes in a bag. Ya're comin' t' LA with me."
Surprise spread over her features for a moment, then she smiled. "I already have all my bags ready."
All? She had expected – hoped, at least – that he'd whisk her away. Well, why the hell not? He'd have her at his LA place for as long as it pleased him before he shipped her back to Wausau. He could spruce up the phantom husband later, anyway. It wasn't as if everyone would start coming after her, was it?
"What're ya waitin' fer then? I ain't got all night!"
Warning: next chapter will be M rated
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