A/N: Thanks for reading and sticking around or catching up! Without further adieu:
They Call Me Pyro
Chapter 11
Hitting the Pavement
Mystique and I continued walking through the grass, the mansion in our wake. I told Mystique, in detail, what had occurred in the danger room. However, I wasn't able to get to the climax of my story.
"Where are you going?" came a little girl's voice from behind us.
We turned around in unison.
Electric vivid blue eyes ignored me even though the question was aimed at me. Lexi peered at Mystique almost in awe. Almost because I'm sure she's seen all sorts at the mansion. Mystique, however, had an undeniable way about her as she remained true, blue scales and all, as she stood shoulder to shoulder next to me.
Stopping after a few paces, leaving a gap of about a foot, I crouched to the five-year-old's level to get her to focus on me, but I kept my hands to myself, purposely using both to hold the bag when it would securely fit into one.
"I have to go," I simply told Rogue's daughter.
"Pyro," Mystique said, warning me to make this quick.
My back to her, I responded by holding out a single non-offensive finger indicating to give me a minute.
I continued, "It was a pleasure to meet you, Lexi. Be good to Daddy and Mommy. Especially Mommy." I winked at her, smiled, and rose from my crouch. I wanted to show her something using my gift but seeing as I've overstayed my freedom on their grounds, I decided against it. Plus, I wanted to remain on the DL as long as possible. Lexi might make my disappearing act known sooner rather than later, but I was confident that Mystique planned a fast getaway. Looking behind me, my comrade was nowhere to be seen but I knew she was close. Turning back to the little girl in front of me, I said, "Look for a special red flower, give it to your dad, and tell him that Pyro will see him soon." I winked, and added, "Got that?"
Lexi nodded, beaming with delight at the special quest I'd tasked her with. She turned and ran—giggling along the way—as fast as her short legs could carry her in the opposite direction that I was initially headed. As I watched her, I noted that this was the second time she was outside with me alone. Where were her parents or designated babysitter? I mentally shrugged. For the record, I could've snatched her but that wasn't going to accomplish anything but traumatize an innocent kid because ultimately the new adventure would fade and Lexi would ask for her parents nonstop. Plus, that kid seemingly tugged at my heartstrings and I didn't want to sully my impressive supervillain resume by adding kidnapping to it. After a last quick glance at Lexi's fading outline, I turned and pushed myself into motion. Ahead of me, a raven flew, and I followed at a jog to keep up.
At some point, my pace turned into a run and I forced myself to keep running even though my lungs burned with a vengeance—out-of-shape was an understatement but coma and restraint will turn your body into mush. Determination to be free fueled my limbs to pump onward. My eyes watched as the raven landed on grass near a luxury black sedan (the only car in the area) with tinted windows. The shape-shifting mutant morphed into a woman in her mid-30s with long, wavy blond hair, tanned skin, and manicured nails. Her eyes were hidden behind designer rose-colored sunglasses but I assume they are blue. She gave me a few moments to catch my breath and as she made her way to the driver's side she told me to get in. She must've left the doors open because I didn't hear them unlock.
Sitting comfortably in a cushy leather seat, getting myself to relax was effortless. What was that smell? Is this a new car? I took another whiff. Yep, new car. Nice.
Mystique turned the engine over, belted in, and then took the bag from me, opening it. She looked at me almost immediately. "There's a tracker."
"Good," I replied, meaning it as I clicked my seatbelt home. "They'll find me when I allow it." And then she disabled it, putting it back into the bag, dropping it into my lap.
I pulled at my sweatshirt. "I need clothes," I said, hoping she didn't hear the slight whine in my tone.
She looked at me as her hand rested on top of the gear lever still secured in park. Mystique was about to say something when I stopped her. "You took care of that, too, didn't you?"
She smiled but her teeth didn't show until she shifted the gear from park to drive and purposely floored the accelerate pedal. At the swift movement, my right hand instinctively braced the glove compartment before me. I didn't look but I could sense she was amused. I missed my chance to give the mansion a single-fingered farewell salute, but in the end, escaping expressed the same sentiment. Dropping my extended arm by my side, I turned my head to look out of my window, wondering why she went through the trouble of buying me clothes when I could have easily gone my own way. But I settled that thought with: she might know me better than I know myself.
To break the silence in the car, I picked up where I left off about the evolution of my x-gene. Occasionally, I would flick my eyes in her direction to see if her expression altered as my story unfolded. Suffice it to say . . . she was unreadable.
Somewhere along the way, I started to rant about Iceman. I tugged on the seatbelt strap to untighten it a bit. "He gets under my skin and I don't know why . . ." I side-eyed her to see if I could read her. Huh. Was that a smirk? "What? Tell me," I demanded.
She exhaled deeply. "I think you know deep down, but I will say . . . you're just both very different. He's "by the book" and you . . . aren't. His upbringing is something you wished for, but that wish went ungranted. He—"
"Okay!" I exclaimed, cutting her off as my mood was starting to darken.
"You—"
Waving my hand dismissively, cutting her off yet again, I interjected, "Yeah, yeah, I know I pushed for transparency on the subject. From what I've heard, the therapist works with the person and peels the layers like an onion one by one. Not all at once!"
"I'm not a therapist," she stated simply.
I snorted. "Touché. I got what I asked for then."
"Begged," she amended for me.
"I did nothing of the sort!" I spat, defensive.
"Are you calling me a liar, Pyro?"
The mild threat in her voice reluctantly forced me to say the next four words to come out of my mouth. "I'll shut up now." Poking the bear in such small confines was not a smart move. I did not want to walk or hitchhike so she could have this verbal victory. My jaw tensed as I stewed internally. Iceprick. Always stirring up shit and he's not even here.
My gaze shifted from what was ahead to the side. The scenery was a blur of trees, fences, and the occasional cow and horses. Despite the dull view, it was a hundred times better than being surrounded by plain white walls. I was internally itching to open the window so that the fresh air could hit my face but I didn't want to disturb the new car smell.
Mystique pulled the car to the shoulder in the middle of nowhere, breaking to a stop. Popping the trunk open, she said, "Go change."
I hesitated briefly, then unbelted, opened the door, stepped out, and shut the door. Spreading my arms to stretch, I made my way to the back of the car. The trunk was fully open and I peered inside to look at the clothing—none of it white, stretchy, or lazy loungewear. I stripped, freeing myself of the basic sweats. Holding the small pile in my hands, I motioned to drop them on the side of the road, but thought better of it and tossed the light gray sweats into the trunk instead as I didn't want to leave anything behind that could be traced back to me. I was well aware that Mystique could easily ogle me using the rearview mirror if she chose to do so, but I didn't care. I was trim but not in a fit way; again, being immobile for long periods of time will do that to you. I put on the black denim pants first and then the forest green shirt with an oval neckline split in the middle with three unfastened black buttons. Then I turned around to sit on the edge of the open trunk and took off the tennis shoes, throwing them over my shoulder. The socks and combat boots matched the pants in color. The boots were noticeably comfortable as I slipped them onto my feet. Lastly, I tightened the laces and grabbed the jacket from the trunk before I pushed the button to close it shut.
The walk back along the passenger side only took a few strides. Opening the door, I sat in my seat and put the jacket on the floor in front of me. As I effortlessly melted into the seat once again, I looked over at her and said, "Thanks for the new threads. I feel like myself." She nodded once in acknowledgment. "So," I started, "where are we headed?"
"Pit stop. When able," she said, then put the car in drive and did just that.
The scenery flashed by as she sped down the highway going twenty or so over the speed limit. "Sounds good to me," I replied evenly.
x - X - x - X - x
We pulled into a rinky-dink-looking diner two long hours later. Gravel popped under the tires as we made our way through the parking lot. Mystique pulled into a spot at her discretion since there were no yellow or white lines deligating spots. More than eager to stretch my legs, I got out of the car so fast that even a speedster would've been impressed. I held onto the open car door as I leaned in to get my jacket. Once it was in my grasp, I gave the door a light shove to close it, and then I put on the jacket. If I was by myself I wouldn't have been memorable, but I couldn't say the same for Mystique. She stood out like England royalty. Noticing my eyes on her and apparently my thoughts, she simply half shrugged wordlessly indicating whatever. Mirroring her shrug in acknowledgment, I wasn't going to protest as we racked a great deal of distance from my prison. I trailed behind her and looked over my shoulder once behind me. Picking up my pace a bit, I reached the door first so I could hold it open for her. She smiled at me in a way that made me think it was expected, which I have to admit confused the hell out of me. Was I always a gentleman? Not that I could recount. Frozen in wonder, I watched her pass the 'seat yourself' sign and make a left to sit in a booth by the window, her back facing me. It was the second booth from the door—a door that I was still holding for invisible people; unintentionally letting the greasy food smells escape. Shaking off the daze, I let go of the door and joined her. Before I took my seat I saw two separate older couples sitting at the counter on stools. They took up four out of the six stools. One couple was sharing an ice cream soda because it had two red and white straws sticking out of it. A large man sat by himself at the last booth farthest from the door eating a massive burger. The dude's face was covered in every condiment possible. He should've sat the other way to face the wall instead of being an immediate eyesore for incoming customers. Entranced by his food, his eyes never left his food/plate to gaze at Mystique. Not once. I slid into the booth across from my associate. Thankfully the nauseating dude was now behind me and out of my sight—appetite still intact!
Before a word between us could be said, the waitress placed two multi-paged menus in front of us. Her nametag read Margaret. In a husky voice, she asked, "What would you like to drink?"
Mystique replied, "Black coffee for the both of us, thanks."
Our server nodded and turned to get the caffeinated beverages. I hoped this joint had decent coffee but I kept my expectation neutral . . . or at least I was trying my best to keep it that way. Mystique closed the menu first and lightly tapped her fingernails on the tabletop in a casual motion. Just as I closed my menu, two mugs were placed on our table and the coffee was poured promptly thereafter. The pleasant aroma hit my nostrils instantly.
The waitress retrieved her pad from her apron and pulled the pen out from her uniform's breast pocket. "What would you like to order?" Margaret asked.
I smirked as the waitress was clearly caught off-guard by Mystique's order: chili cheese fries, single-patty hamburger will all of the trimmings, chocolate thick shake, and a side order of fried pickles.
Margaret slightly pivoted my way. "And you?"
"I'll have the same as her," I said, pausing for a single heartbeat before she could turn and leave, and then I came clean with a bright smile, "Just a joke. A bad one. I apologize. I'll have the banana pancakes with scrambled eggs and bacon."
Her expression never changed as she jotted my order onto her pad while maintaining her gaze on me. She was utterly unimpressed. The only reason our eye contact broke, was so Margaret could put in the order.
"She's going to do something to your food," Mystique warned as I tasted my drink.
The hot liquid went down my throat and it was pure bliss. "Nah, she won't," I said confidently. "I know she's only showing us disdain but I think that's just her face and/or occupation." I paused. "Besides," I scoffed, "I'm not the one that ordered enough food for both couples at the counter."
Mystique glanced their way and then returned her attention back to me. "I didn't detect any judgment from her. My high metabolism is off the charts."
"Envy, then."
She quirked her lips as she raised her mug. "Mmm," she agreed and then consumed some of her coffee.
Perhaps I was preoccupied prior but I felt a strange tug within. Mystique shot me an inquisitive look but I didn't think I was expressing discomfort or alarm. My God, how does she just seem to know everything? Brushing it off, for now, I went back to the drink in front of me. I could feel her eyes on me but I shifted my gaze to look outside again.
After I finished what was left of my java and swallowed, I leaned in closer to Mystique and spoke low, my tone serious, "As I was saying before Lexi interrupted, the session in the danger room was going well when something . . . that I can't pinpoint exactly just what it was, but something . . . changed. Apparently, I let the power go to my head. Literally. You saw where I ended up while under their roof." I took a breath and then continued, "I remember how it felt to finally reach my full potential, while short-lived." My lips spread into a huge smile. "It felt fucking fantastic!" I said ecstatically, slapping the table once for added effect.
Her gaze continued to be locked onto mine as she processed what I told her but her lips remained in a thin line, undecipherable.
A few heartbeats later, I slightly shifted in the booth and spoke to prompt a (hopefully) quicker response, "Are you second-guessing," I wagged my finger back and forth between us, "this?"
Her eyes never left mine as she took a sip of coffee. "No. But control is important." She lowered her voice to say, "Especially with your gift."
"Okay." I leaned back in the seat and put my arm along the top of the booth. When I finished my coffee and put the mug near the front edge of the table for a refill.
She gathered her hair and placed it all to one side. Her eyes narrowed. "Do you mean it, John? Sincerely? It's going to take work. Lots of it. This isn't something you half-ass."
"Yes," I replied instantly, confidence evident. "Raven, I can't tell you how long I've wanted this. I. Will. Do. Whatever it takes." No one would ever describe me as serious but I was for this conversation. I've waited and waited for this for so long that I eventually gave up on it as aging decreases your development advancement. So technically, I've aged out, but for whatever reason, I was granted the one and only wish that I've stuck with year after year for as long as I can remember. Rogue will probably never speak to me again—how many chances does one get? Whatever the number, I'm out—but I'm not giving up this opportunity to fully train and master my unique power that they fear. That they've always feared.
"I'm counting on it." Her smile was subtle but I noticed it.
Our intense eye contact broke simultaneously when Margaret brought over the food and the thick shake. My mug was refilled swiftly once our server had a free hand. Margaret left us to check on her other customers after we said that we didn't need anything else at the moment.
From behind me, I heard, "Need anything else, Fred?" I presume Margaret was talking to that massive man in the last booth. He was definitely a regular customer and he undeniably came for more than just the coffee.
Mystique dunked a fry into her shake and I judged her silently as I cut into my pancakes. I pivoted my head to look out of the window, nothing notable besides that no new patrons had come in since we strolled in. As I swallowed pancakes, I speared some eggs with my fork letting the eggs hang there as I briefly contemplated warming my coffee using my hand only. If Bobby could do the reverse . . . I should be able, but it wasn't the ideal place or time so I quashed that thought. Mystique still had plenty of food left to eat; plus, parlor tricks were beneath me. Go big or go home, right? Eh, maybe I should've used another term; that one isn't really apt for me as I have no home of my own. My thoughts wandered as I absently filled my stomach with breakfast foods and black coffee.
"So . . ." I started after I swallowed, "have you heard from Erik? Do you know where he is?"
Briefly, she glanced at me, and then her blue eyes returned to her brunch. Her lip curled. "I haven't spoken to him since he abandoned me. He reached out through coded channels but I didn't respond." Then her eyes locked onto mine to say, "Of course, I know of his whereabouts."
Riiight, I thought. I was there and I left her too. I'm not any better. Shit. Uncomfortable, I rubbed the back of my neck. "I'm sorry I turned my back on you that day. It's not an excuse but—"
"You don't have to finish. I know. I'm not angry at you. Never was."
"Still . . ." I bit into a strip of bacon with a satisfying crunch.
Mystique wiped her mouth and hands with a white paper napkin and then she folded it and partially tucked it under a plate. "They wouldn't have done that to me, for the record."
I let a shoulder rise and fall in a half-shrug as I kept my mouth shut. She was right, but the X-Men still have imperfections elsewhere. I'm not at all condoning Magneto's actions, but he never seemed like the type to sink with the ship along with his crew; though I have to admit, I thought he would for Mystique.
Reaching across the table, I stole some of Mystique's fries. The few I grabbed, I bit in half and then ate the rest that was securely in my fingers. She didn't seem to mind since she didn't pin me with her gaze or even look at me. After finishing what was left on my plate, I wiped my hands and mouth with the napkin, crumpled the paper with my fist, and dropped it onto the plate.
The waitress walked over and asked if we needed anything else. I shook my head and Mystique said, "Just the check."
Margaret reached for her pad, and tore off a page, placing it face down at the edge of the table in the middle. "Take all the time you need," she told us before she went back behind the counter. I excused myself from the table and went to the restroom. The bulb flickered a few times before steadying, locking the door with a simple lift of the hardware and pushing it to the left to secure it in place. I took care of business and the toilet flushed automatically, which was unexpected for a diner like this. The faucet was manual and the mirror was barely big enough to see my head. As I rinsed my hands I inspected my face which hadn't changed since I last got a look at it. I dried my hands with a brown paper towel and raked my fingers through my hair.
When Mystique saw me emerge from the restroom, she got out of the booth and put down two one hundred dollar bills on the table, which left Margaret a very generous tip. Eying the table briefly, every plate and cup that was hers was empty. For a rinky-dink eatery, the food was top-notch.
I followed her out of the diner. Once aligned side by side with her, I said, "That was a nice tip."
"It was a big order but I was hoping if Wolverine or Cyclops poke around she'll forget that she saw us," she said, amending, "well, you."
As we approached the car, I asked, "Can I drive?"
"No," she replied as she planted herself by the driver's side, "If we get pulled over I have a better chance of getting us out of it and I rather use my talents than green paper. The former is," she paused, "while not subtle on my part it seems to not offend the authority figure in uniform. Or at least I start there. Double Ds usually do the trick from my experience."
I muttered, "Men. Such simple creatures we are."
She smirked and then got in, settling behind the wheel. After a heartbeat or two, I followed suit in the passenger seat. Clicking my seatbelt into place, Mystique started the engine with a push of a button.
x - X - x - X - x
About forty-five minutes later we were quickly approaching a slower-moving car. Mystique maneuvered over the yellow solid line to bypass the slowpoke. We had just returned to the appropriate lane when we heard sirens from behind. I twisted in my seat to see that a patrol car emerged from an embankment that hid its presence fairly well. She slowed down and pulled over when an appropriate shoulder became available.
She glanced my way and said, "Don't say anything unless he asks you something directly."
I nodded and then she pushed the button to unlock her door and lowered her window. I cast a curious look her way but remained quiet.
During the officer's short walk to us, I could see he was medium built, dark-skinned, and had a mustache. Once he was by the driver's side window, I noticed he had a cleft in his chin and a small diamond earring in his left ear. His brown eyes briefly flicked to mine and then back to her. "Ma'am, do you know why I pulled you over?" He didn't give her a chance to say anything or act clueless. "At least three infractions that I witnessed. You failed to signal, improperly passed another vehicle, and you were going twenty over the speed limit." His demeanor was professional. He appeared to be going by the book and he didn't seem to let her appearance influence him. It didn't matter that I was present. He oozed boy scout.
Mystique batted her eyelashes. "I apologize, Officer West. I know it's not an excuse but we're in a hurry."
"License and registration," he said, emotionless.
Most people in our position would've huffed but she didn't. First Mystique unbelted and then she reached behind her in the backseat for her purse. She sprung back and in a swift motion, she opened the car door which hit the officer and he stumbled back a few steps. Before he could pull out his pistol from the holster she spun low to take out his feet. West fell, his back slamming into the pavement. With the wind knocked out of him, he struggled to get back to his feet but Mystique was faster and she clocked him with her fist. The officer went slack.
"Pyro, help me get him off the road!" she barked at me as she morphed into a thin man mirroring West's uniform, adding in an even tone and still using her own voice, "He's just an obstacle in our way. I'm not trying to get him killed."
It all went down so fast that I was still in the midst of processing what I had just witnessed. Hearing my name and the urgency in Mystique's voice lurched me into motion. Exiting the car as quickly as I could, I slipped into the police cruiser to move it closer so we wouldn't have to carry him as far. The vehicle only had to travel a few feet so the door was left open deliberately. Once the car was in position, I extended my body, reaching over the middle console, and opened the front passenger side door as far as it would go. Mystique was at West's feet when I got to his unmoving body so I planted myself by his head. Bending down with my legs, I put my arms between his armpits and then curved them as I hoisted West. Mystique held his feet and together we got the officer into the passenger side of his vehicle. The back of his head was bleeding, but luckily for him, the wound wasn't life-threatening. His head would throb when conscience and he'd have a mega headache, but he'd live. Mystique had attacked with such quickness that West never had time to unsnap his weapon. She undid the snap, took his gun, tucked it into her waistband, and then removed his bodycam. She held out the bodycam to me and I took it. "Pyro," she said in a deep voice despite it not matching the physique she was currently in, "put the hazards on in my car and get in the driver's side just in case someone passes by. I have to move the patrol car and check for a dashcam."
"Okay." Without hesitation, I did as instructed, dropping the dashcam into the cup holder next to me. Eventually, the police cruiser disappeared from my side-mirror view, but if I were to guess, she was putting it back where it was hiding when he caught us speeding with the radar gun.
A short time later, in the corner of my right eye, I saw a large predatory-looking brown bird with a gun in its talons land in the grass by the passenger side. In a blink, the bird changed into a woman with short light brown layered hair, pale skin, and green eyes, dressed in a casual business-like blouse tucked into a light-colored pencil skirt with a Glock sticking out like a sore thumb in the waistband. I saw the gun as she slipped in, occupying the empty seat next to me; the door thunking closed. She turned her head toward me, and said, "Drive. We'll change plates on the way."
Elated, I caressed the steering wheel in appreciation for the craftsmanship of this high-end machine and for finally getting the opportunity to just drive.
Click. Click.
A/N: Just a reminder to check my profile every now and then for story progress notes.