She was warm. So deliciously, delightfully warm. Something soft yet firm enveloped her like a lover's embrace, steady and tender and welcoming. She couldn't remember a time when she'd felt this good, this at ease with the world. No wait, that was a lie. She felt this way every morning when she woke up in the arms of her best friend. After she read to him or read with him long into the deep hours of the night and fell asleep as far from him as she could manage yet somehow always found herself encircled by his quiet strength.
And there was the second part to all of that fluffiness. The cold disappointment when she realized that the closeness meant nothing. The hollow ache somewhere behind her ribs that reminded her not to get too comfortable. He would wake soon, see her so close to him and retreat as if she'd suddenly developed a deadly plague. Better she leave now before he could.
Ellie opened her eyes slowly and stared into the crisp, white fabric of one of Charles's "casual" shirts. He liked to call them casual, but like the rest it was button-down and religiously starched to retain its dapper…ness. Ellie nearly laughed, but thought better of it. He was such a light sleeper. She took a deep breath through her nose, drinking in and memorizing his scent, clean and cool like an ancient pine forest at midnight. Letting that breath out with a discontented sigh, she rolled over gently and began making her way to the edge of the bed. One foot had just touched the floor when an arm caught her around the middle and yanked her unceremoniously backward, her head smacking into something soft that let out a disgruntled "Oof!"
With the raspy and breathless way that Charles said, "Where do you think you're going so early, love?" Ellie knew that shed landed on his stomach. Served him right for grabbing her like that and calling her love in that husky English accent when she knew it was just one of those things that delightfully beautiful Englishmen say. Heat flushed to her face and her body quickened with a fire that both exhilarated and terrified her.
"I know that I'm going hunting," she said, half snappish, half laughing and wriggling her way to freedom. "I'm starving, and I feel like eating something…fresh," she purred with a devilish grin and a predatory spark in her leafy green eyes. As she stooped to retrieve her bag and book from the floor, she heard Charles rise and adjust his clothing.
"Well why don't I walk with you?" he said, sliding his jacket on and coming to stand next to her. "I'm just about to be summoned anyway. I figure I should get a head start and meet with him early."
"Meet with who?" Ellie asked, her brows furrowed with confusion and her bag on her shoulder, poised to walk out the door.
"Why, Mr. Broadmoore of course," Charles said with a cheeky grin, presenting his elbow for her to take which she did and the two of them set off down the hallway toward the front door.
"So that's his name?" Ellie ran her free fingers through her thick hair, freeing the bedhead tangles and attempting to make herself look presentable. She and Charles were both still wearing the clothes they'd been wearing for a couple of days now, but it wasn't as if they had anything to change into. She'd have to do laundry later this evening. If only she knew where the laundry room was…
"Mmm," Charles murmured his affirmation.
"At least now we can stop calling him 'the man'. Are we ever going to get any new clothes? All of our stuff is in Westchester still, and what we're wearing is starting to get a little ripe," she said, crinkling her nose and tugging at the collar of his shirt for emphasis.
"I think so. We'll have to do a little shopping after whatever meeting this is I'm being called for," he replied, ruffling her hair that she had just meticulously arranged. What was with him this morning? Not to mention last night.
"Charles, you're being weirdly affectionate today and yesterday evening. I thought you were British?"
"I am British. What does that have to do with being affectionate?" he asked, looking sideways at her with those marvelous eyes of his.
"Everyone knows that Brits don't like touching people. They're not very affectionate types," she said, fixing her hair back.
"And I suppose that you're an expert on Brits now?" His eyes sparkled with mirth as he turned them on her, momentarily halting her ability to breathe.
"Well, I have lived with one for thirteen years. I wouldn't exactly say expert, but I would say that I've studied him close enough to know his habits," she quipped, training her sights on the approaching door.
"Wait a minute," Charles halted, looking surprised. "Studied—what do you mean—how close?" he practically begged.
Ellie only smiled and slid out of his grasp and out the door, leaving Charles with the lingering echo of her laughter.
The woman was certainly a mystery, Charles thought, shaking his head as he turned and made his way to Mr. Broadmoore's office. The man wanted to discuss a new technology with him, designed and built by Hank of course. From what he already knew of it, the design was incredibly complex and relied on brainwaves from a highly intelligent subject to work. In other words, it required Charles. He spent the next few minutes before his arrival picking out every detail about the machine that he could find. He only grew more and more impressed as he went. Hank certainly was a genius.
In essence, the thing was a magnifying glass for the minds of telepathic mutations. It amplified brain waves and thoughts so that one person, one telepath, could connect with the minds of thousands—no, millions!—of people all over the world at one given time. And this was only a prototype! Imagine the possibilities when Hank had applied even more of his brain power to the advancement of the versatility of the machine! They were truly endless. Before he had finished, Charles may well be able to actually communicate with or, God forbid, influence those millions of people at once, with the limitation of distance eradicated completely. He would be able to identify and pull information from whomever he wished, whenever he wished and all it would take would be to stand inside a small room with a sensor on his head and think.
By the time Charles stopped beside the doorway to the office, he was grinning from ear to ear with excitement.
Mr. Broadmoore was picking up the phone, about to dial his room number when he knocked softly, making the man jump. In the next second, the door opened and he said "I was just about to call you." with a confused air.
"I know," Charles replied, tapping a finger to his temple and stepping inside. "You want to talk to me about this new machine of Hank's."
"Well, yes, but how did you—"
"Do you really need to ask Mr. Broadmoore?" Charles sat down in one of the chairs arranged just so on the other side of his desk and crossed his legs and folded his fingers politely. At his suggestion, the man seemed to regain some semblance of composure and took his own seat across from Charles. "No, I guess I don't," he said with a smile.
"Excellent, so tell me about this incredible new device." Charles turned his gaze to the large window to his right where he got a lovely view of a large round object vaguely resembling a T-Rex's golf ball. Complete with tee.
"Hank turned that radar installation into a transmitter," Mr. Broadmoore said. "It's designed to amplify brainwaves, so it could enhance your telepathic powers, help us find other mutants for our division."
"What if they don't want to be found by you?" a deep, familiar voice sounded from the doorway to the office, and one Charles had not been expecting to hear.
Sure enough, Erik Lehnsherr was standing just over the threshold, a look of utter contempt written plainly on his face.
"Erik," Charles addressed him, drawing Erik's quick and grudging glance that clearly said 'I'm not here because of you, got it?'. Charles couldn't help but smile anyway. "You decided to stay." The man would be a powerful asset to whatever it was this odd CIA division was planning. Not to mention the fact that Charles was growing rather fond of him or the ever-present urge to fix whatever damage had been done to his brain at such a young age.
Erik ignored him, instead turning his cold gray eyes on Mr. Broadmoore, the threat of death shining clear in their depths. "If a new species is being discovered, it should be by its own kind. Charles and I find the mutants, no suits." His body language allowed for no arguments.
But humans are stupid and arrogant, Mr. Broadmoore being no different. "First of all, that's my machine out there," he argued. Um, no, that's actually Hank's machine. "Second all, and much more importantly, this is Charles's decision. Charles is fine with the CIA being involved." The man looked at Charles as if expecting back up, but Charles was focused in on Erik's steel encased mind, his brows furrowed and his eyes searching things that everyday humans could not see.
After a moment of thought laden silence, Charles turned back to Mr. Broadmoore and said, "No. I'm sorry, but I'm with Erik. We'll find them alone." Gunmetal gray met crystalline blue for just a moment, two dominant males in total agreement for once before Erik looked away.
But of course, that wasn't the end of it. "What if I say no?" Mr. Broadmoore asked, still laboring under the delusion that he was in charge here. How adorable.
Charles had to stop himself from laughing and instead looked over with his eyebrows raised and said, "Then good luck using your installation without me."
And that was the end of it.
OxOxO
Deep in the forest that ringed the facility, Ellie lifted her shining scarlet muzzle and howled a swift prayer of thanks for the lives of the three rabbits whose remains still lay at her feet. She swiped a tongue over her teeth and fur, cleaning off most of the gore and blood before burying the bones respectfully and setting off back toward the well-manicured lawn where Charles and Raven were waiting for her. Something exciting was about to happen, she could feel it in the tips of her silvery paws.
I've brought a change of clothes for you. We've just done a little shopping and I quite believe that you won't be able to wear those again. We don't want to frighten anyone, Charles's voice echoed around in her head as she stepped out of the tree line, gazing up at him through wolf's eyes, blood dripping lazily from the tip of her cute little nose. A brief image of him standing-dapper and lovely as usual in a new navy suit-at the edge of the woods, dangling an expensive looking bag enticingly flashed in front of her mind vision.
Damn, and that was why she never let Charles go shopping for her. He always managed to sniff out the most expensive things for her, tossing money around as if she were some sort of charity case. She actually had a whole second closet full of the things Charles had bought for her that she never wore. Leave it to him to take advantage of their need for something clean to wear. Damn him. Damn that Charles.
With a low growl Ellie turned and trotted back the way she came. Within moments she had emerged from the tree line and found herself nose to midriff with Charles. In a fit of spite, she reared up and licked him from perfect chin to perfect hairline.
That's for treating me like some homeless vagrant who lives off of the good graces of others.
"Well, I suppose I deserve that," he managed to squeeze between his scrunched up lips on his scrunched up face that was now dripping with pink wolf saliva. Ellie glanced at Raven as the blond approached and winked (not an easy feat when you're a wolf), gently taking the handles of the shopping bag in her teeth and trotting back into the woods to wash in the little stream just inside.
Charles wiped his face with a towel he just happened to have in his bag and he and Raven waited patiently for a few moments until Ellie emerged once again, this time in (a rather stunning-Charles had to admit) human form. Her new leather pants and red jacket clung lightly to her curves and the silvery boots made her legs look a mile long. Charles caught himself before his staring became too obvious.
"I hope you're not expecting a thank you," Ellie said, her eyes glinting and one hand perched on her hip imperiously.
"Ah, no," Charles said with a funny look on his face. "I think I've had enough out of you for one day. Let's get going shall we? Hank has something rather exciting he wants to show us." And he turned and began walking toward the back of the facility.
Ellie threaded her arm through Raven's and whispered, "And we all know that exciting to Charles is bored-to-death to the rest of the universe."
Raven's laugh was music to her ears. She hadn't heard that sound in what seemed like forever. This ridiculous situation they had been thrust into had sapped most of the humor from their lives, and hearing it now from Raven, as if nothing had ever happened, gave Ellie the tiny shred of hope she'd needed. Despair had begun to set in like an ice coated brick in her chest, weighing her down freezing out the memory of the Ellie that had been before all of this government, mutant insanity had arrived at their doorstep like an unwanted cousin. But a laugh, something so simple and innocent in itself, helped bring her back to herself. At least for a little while longer.
The trio rounded the corner of the great, squat stone building to a sight that was by far the queerest thing she had seen thus far. It loomed out at them, mocking them with its odd defiance of normalcy and its obvious desire to be weird. How dare it stand there so imposingly, looking all important? She'd show it important. Huh.
It was like a giant, hairy golf ball that at Tyrannosaurus might have used. Complete with tee. It was just a massive ball on a massive black peg, and yet, she could smell Charles' spike in excitement from her position several feet behind him. And he was upwind!
The ball was made of lots of triangular white panels with little antennae sticking out all over the place (hence the hairiness). The closer they got, the more obvious it became that that was about it. It was just a large ball. With lots of tiny hairy things. And a big black peg. Nothing really changed or made the ball any more impressive as they neared.
Except maybe the smell. It smelled of metal (big surprise) and Hank, but something else too. It was so hard to place; it was almost like more of a sensation than a scent. It gave her the impression of vastness, of eternity and of possibilities. She hadn't realized she'd stopped until she felt a hand on her shoulder. Charles was peering into her face with those shards of sky and for a moment it was as if that scent was prodding her, pushing her forward as eternity and possibilities flashed behind her eyes. So much could happen, could be hers if she just leaned forward a little more…
Quick as a flash, and before she could lose anymore of her sanity, she grew a claw and stabbed herself with it. The pain jolted her out of her trance and plopped her back down into reality so hard that her eyes began to throb. Outwardly she gave no sign of pain or distress, plastering her best fake smile on and saying cheerfully, "Shall we?" before yanking open the little door at the base of the tee and beginning to climb the narrow, spiral staircase toward the inside of the weird, hairy golf ball.
She did her best not to think about what had just happened or the fact that she'd come THIS CLOSE to kissing him and giving herself away and ruining what relationship they did have or the fact that she could smell his confusion and practically hear the thoughts running through his head. She did her best not to think about the scent of the ball, so odd and vague and unfathomable, and yet possibly one of the most delicious scents she'd ever smelled, for the sole reason that for an instant her dreams had been right there in her grasp. All she had to do was reach out and take them. She tried so hard not to think about it, but in truth she was drinking it in like fine wine.
In truth, she failed.
WOW! It has been, like, a million years since my last update! I must say first of all how incredibly sorry I am for that, and second how sorry I am that this is such a short chapter. I was really impatient and I had to get it out there for yall before yall went nuts with anticipation! The next one will be longer and quicker as the semester has now ended and I'll have a bit more time on my hands. Also, I would like to wish you all a very Happy Thanksgiving and if you don't hear from me before then, MERRY CHRISTMAS, Happy Hanukah, Happy Kwanza, Happy Whatever! And Happy New Year!
As always, I live off of your reviews! Please let me know what you think!