Disclaimer: I don't own any characters except Irbis and several innocent short-lived bystanders; everything else is Marvel's only.

8. Dallas

Creed drove into the Gables community, where his apartment was located, and parked inside. It was only 4.30, and there was plenty of light, so a few residents got the chance to frown at his and Irbis's dirty and wrinkled clothes as they walked up to the last floor. The door opened into a clean kitchen, which was separated from the rest of the house by a long marbletop counter. Creed dropped the mail he'd picked up at the entrance on the kitchen counter and opened the fridge to get a beer.

Noticing the girl had stopped at the doorway, apparently analysing the white cabinets of the kitchen, Creed waved an impatient hand. "Close the door, dimwit!"

Doing as told, Irbis moved onwards, past a passageway directly in front of the door which opened onto a wide room divided into dining and living area by a set of sofa and armchairs aimed at a wide screen TV. French windows beyond the sitting area invited her to check on the balcony, but she didn't dare approach it. Instead, she walked gingerly towards the sofas. They were as dark as the furniture, but had a light green cover that matched the curtains, and which received some spice from red cushions. Standing in the middle of the room, she looked back, discovering a round dining table hid quietly at the corner. She could see the blond perusing the papers with light resignation.

"The bathroom is through the bedroom," Creed explained, not looking up at her. "The door to the left. There's a walk-in closet in there with some women clothes. Check if they fit you."

Irbis sighed, her body relaxing. He looked so… what word could describe the bulking figure going casually through the papers? Homely? She felt a sudden irrational heat colour her face and abruptly entered the bedroom, throwing the door close with a loud bang, which she regretted even before hearing it.

"I'm sorry!" She decided to warn the man, "de door escaped my hands."

The room had the same dark furniture, with the same light green curtains and matching mats. Once more, red cushions spiced the room. The mutant didn't seem to have been bothered by the banging door, but he wanted to have a shower, and he'd certainly be bothered if she didn't hurry to get out of his way. She hurried into the bathroom and found the door into the walk-in closet. As the man had said, there was an area for women clothes and Irbis couldn't help being curious.

"Well?" Creed walked in and picked a pair of jeans and a shirt, then went on to a set of drawers to get some underwear. Eventually, he looked back at her. "Ya gonna stay there gawkin' at me, or are ya gonna check if those fit ya?"

She could feel her cheeks burning and turned abruptly to ascertain the size of the clothes. Behind her, Creed finished collecting what he'd come for and left. Still trying to control the heat on her cheeks, she decided they were all too big for her.

"Dey are all too big, Misteh... uh..." The heat quickly returning to her cheeks, she entered the bathroom to see Creed stark naked and about to enter the shower.

He looked back, grumbling. "Figures! Get the money I left on the counter and go out t' buy some clothes then. I ain't takin' ya around with me lookin' like a beggar."

Her eyes were still locked onto his body, despite her inhuman efforts to look away, so she could see the movement of his muscles when he growled lightly. "Whatchya starin' at, ya moron? Get out!"

As she left the room, though, she could still hear him grumbling about 'darned amateurs'.

Irbis didn't take long. The ground floor of the residential area was mostly covered with shops so she'd been able to buy a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and a pullover very quickly. She had also considered a jacket, but they were all so expensive, she had picked a sweatshirt instead. She returned hoping that the man would neither think she had spent too much money nor had bought too little. But since Creed was ready to go out, his hair still wet, he didn't even look at the lonely bag in her hand.

"Don't go nowhere," he said briefly as he took the sandwich she'd bought for herself from a Starbucks at the corner. "And I mean nowhere."

Irbis stood in the kitchen for a while, listening to his footsteps fading away. Finally alone, she felt exhaustion set in. Neverhteless, she strove to force it away and went to the bathroom where she started undressing. After the situation with the Friends of Humanity, she had taken her Isabel Martins documents and placed them in the pockets of her jeans, while most of her money, as well as her Irbis documents, had been securely hidden inside a second pair of panties she'd put on while waiting for Creed, in Madison. She was very proud of her move; if she hadn't done that, now she'd have lost the documents Creed had given her and she'd have no money.

The bills were still humid from the swim in the lake, but other than that, they were in perfect condition. She counted them before putting them on a chair, near her new clothes. Five hundred dollars. Then she inspected both her sets of documents and placed them with the money. Finally, she picked up the card the black mutant with the M tattoo had given her. It didn't say much, just XSE in big, orange letters and three sets of phone numbers. No address. She sighed, then she opened the hot water shower.

Creed arrived shortly after. She called out, saying she was finishing getting dressed when she had just got off the shower, but heard him entering the bedroom and realised he wouldn't have any troubles entering the bathroom if he felt like it. Hurrying, she put on two pairs of panties she'd taken from the walk-in closet and adjusted the money and the Irbis documents carefully. Then she put on jeans and T-shirt. Suddenly, the man tried the knob of the bathroom.

"Why the hell are ya locked in there, girl?"

"I'm dressing!" She explained, zipping the jeans.

"I've seen plenty o' women gettin' dressed; so I doubt it'll be much of a shock seein' ya. Now open the damn door!"

And she did, as she slipped in the documents and the card. He moved onto the walk-in closet without a second look at her. "I don't want any locked doors here, unless it's me doin' the lockin'. Got it?"

"I'm sorry," she called quietly, to sooth him.

He came out holding two sports bags and stopped. "Why're ya standin' there? Ya need somethin'?"

Shaking her head in a nervous negative, Irbis quickly made her way to the living room, Creed hot on her heels. She stopped in the middle of the room, making sure she was on a spot out of the man's way first. The blond dropped the two bags on a sofa then went to the dining table, where four pizza boxes waited for dinner time.

"I brought ya a pizza," he stated while he picked up a box, opened it and sat down. Then he looked at Irbis, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, wet hair clinging to her face. "What's goin' on?"

"Hun?"

"Yer actin' strange," and he looked around, smelling the air for anything out of the ordinary.

Irbis's face reddened. "I feel a bit strange," she mumbled, looking away from the blond but daring to go and sit at the table.

He studied her, suspicious, but let it go.

"Meat pizza," she tried to sound natural, to dispel the awkwardness that insisted in remaining. "My favourite."

He lifted an eyebrow. "Then I suggests ya proves it by eatin' 'stead o' talkin'."

But she didn't feel hungry. She bit down a slice but her stomach somersaulted inside her and she set it down. Creed's eyes were on her. She could feel them as if they were his hand. She shivered and felt her cheeks reddening again.

"I'm not hungry," she spit out, irritated at herself.

"Ya haven't eaten since ya had that burger, in the mornin'," Creed explained in between bites. "Ya're starvin'; but the adrenaline o' the whole adventure is makin' yer stomach squirmish. It happens t'all amateurs."

She didn't answer, and the man finished his slice. She kept her eyes on the edge of the table, trying not to think about anything in particular while some stupid tears insisted on finding a way out. Irbis sniffed them away and looked at him. His golden eyes, trained on her, didn't surprise her.

"I'm not amateur, I'm prey." He narrowed his eyes slightly. "You said I have to choose if I'm predator or prey. I'm prey."

He smirked, amused. "Why? 'Cause ya're squirmish an' lost yer appetite? Don't be a dumb ass, girl. Ya kill an' torture like the best. Make no mistake, ya got a nasty lil' predator inside ya. Ya just gotta give it space t'come out."

The smirk became a grin, mischievous and handsome, and Irbis looked away. "Where do I sleep?"

"Ya can take the bed fer now," she could hear the amusement in his voice. "I'll kick ya out when I decide t'take a nap myself."