Pryde and Wisdom, the X-Men and Excalibur all are trademarks of Marvel Comics. The books mentioned in the bookshop scene are all real works. This story is an unauthorized work done purely for my personal enjoyment, and is not intended to infringe on any of their rights in or profits from these characters. But this story is copyright to me.
WARNING:
THERE WILL BE EXPLICIT SEX IN OTHER PARTS OF THIS STORY. I will mark
those sections clearly in the individual section headers. If reading sex
scenes would offend you, please don't read this story.
If you want to comment, send email to <luba@lubakmetyk.net>
"...So I told him if he thought I wasn't good enough for him, he could go screw little Miss Prim-and-Prissy instead!" Eyes puffy, nose reddened, short blonde hair sticking up every-which-way in unruly spikes, an agitated Tabitha finished her highly colored account of her argument with her on-again, off-again boyfriend, Samuel Guthrie.
Untangling her inchoherent spate with the ease of long practice, "And then you started throwing things at him?" Roberto daCosta asked, avid relish mixed in with the warm sympathy he was so busy projecting.
"Yeah, Cable and Domino just got done reading me the riot act." Her tone was an odd mix of grudging apology and faint pride. "They said the old fart's all mad I broke a buncha his stupid old stuff, so I'm supposed ta apologize, and offer ta pay for it. Dom said she was sure she could come up with a whole list of chores I could do, so I figure I'm gonna be doing scutwork for the rest of my life to pay him off..."
"Don't worry about it -- I'll go see Xavier, and settle up with him." He was careful to lower his eyelids so thick black eyelashes most women would kill for could hide the scheming gleam in dark eyes, while the Brazilian grande patted her on the back comfortingly.
"Ya don't hafta do that, 'Berto," she sniffled, her voice muffled since her head was nestled snugly in the crook of his now tear-dampened shoulder.
"Yes, I do." Roberto daCosta would have drawn himself up proudly if he hadn't been so occupied cradling the forlorn blonde in his arms. "The money certainly doesn't matter to me but, even if it did, I have to stand up for my teammate -- and my friend -- don't I? Even if certain *others* do not feel the same." Besides, the unexpected but welcome opportunity to flaunt his fortune -- and remind Xavier what a daCosta *truly* was -- was more than worth the cost of a few smashed antiques... and doing Tabitha such an easy favor had a number of benefits.
The petty politics in X-Force had usually been pretty balanced -- he and Sam had formed one natural group, based upon their longer history together, while Jimmy and Terry made up another, with Tabitha and Rictor in the middle, Shatterstar following Rictor's lead and Caliban mostly oblivious. Sam's departure with his 'promotion' to the X-Men and Terry's concurrent promotion to deputy leader had weakened Roberto's influence, since Tabitha's loyalty had been more to Sam than to himself. That would change now. Now, not only could he count on her support, but he would expect her to tilt Rictor (when he came back) to his side.
And, although Tabitha Smith was no Amara Aquilla, no fit consort for a daCosta, Meltdown *was* a quite adequate partner -- professional *and* personal -- for Sunspot.
It had taken him a while, but Bobby Drake had finally tracked Rogue down, by the lake -- even if he had had to cheat, by asking Bishop where she was. "Ok, it's later -- and it's nice and private here too. So, you wanna tell me all about all that important stuff you had to worry about? Like what?"
The stripe-haired woman tossed another pebble from the handful she was holding, obviously not using any of her enhanced strength since the 'pop' and resulting ripples were easily visible just a few yards out on the surface of the water. She didn't turn to look at the young man who'd just joined her, but kept staring at the lake while she replied, "Like Betsy tellin' me that when Carol took over mah body one time back she -- *Ah* -- could touch Betsy jus' fine... without absorbin' her powers... *an'* without absorbing her memories either."
"That's wonderful!" As she twisted around to gape at him, obviously taken aback by his enthusiastic reaction, he rushed on, "I mean, it is, isn't it? It's proof you *can* learn to control your power, it's not hopeless! So, did you get all the details? There's gotta be some kinda clue there, on what the problem is and how to fix it!"
Rogue didn't need his wide grin to recognize how sincere his happiness for her was. This was her friend, who'd followed her when she'd run away from the X-Men after their kiss had sent Gambit into a coma, setting aside his own affairs and needs to accompany her, to keep an eye on her, to be there for her. But his optimism was definitely premature... and was visibly fading as the grim expression on her face finally registered. "Oh, Ah got a clue alright, Drake. Like, Ah *also* remembered how the Professor didn't have any problem havin' me touch Rahne an' Roberto when *he* was controllin' mah body an' mah power one time -- which kinda suggests he already knows what mah problem is, don't it?"
"But..." That brought up so many questions, Bobby wasn't quite sure where to start. So he settled for the simple and straightforward, "Have you asked him about it?" Seeing her earlier frown darken into a fierce scowl, he backpedalled quickly. "Ok, maybe there hasn't exactly been time yet, with Excalibur just leaving and all. Are you going to, though? When?"
"Oh, Ah already *asked* him, sugah... He said the problem was in mah head -- which Ah kinda suspected already -- but that it wouldn't do any good for him ta try ta fix it, that Ah had ta do it by mahself, all natural-like."
"Oh." Drake deflated like a popped balloon, then visibly made an effort to rally and regain his earlier upbeat mood. "But he can still help you do that, right? Now that you're sure it's possible, he can work with you, guide you--"
"That's what Ah was hoping when Ah first came here, yeah. But when Ah count up jus' how many years Ah been waitin' around for that help... Ah don't think he'll evah get around ta it, Bobby. Ah jus' don't think Ah can count on him ta help me..."
"Ok... How about the others, then? You could talk to Hank -- I guarantee he'll want to help. And if it's something mental that needs a telepath, you could always ask Jeannie..."
"Funny ya bring them up -- they were both there when Ah talked ta the Professor, and Hank offered ta help right away... but Ah'd feel awful pullin' him off his Legacy work -- right now, Moira needs him helpin' her a whole lot more 'n Ah need him. That's one thing the Prof said Ah gotta admit is right. Ah *could* ask Jean, Ah suppose, even though the Prof told her not ta try anything on her own... but Ah'd hate ta get her inta trouble... Maybe Ah should ask Betts, instead..." Her voice trailed off, betraying her internal debate.
"Hey, yeah -- Betsy'd be a better bet. Jeannie's got a mind of her own but, yeah, she might decide she shouldn't do something the Professor didn't approve of -- but Betsy wouldn't mind a bit. And besides, Jeannie may have way more power, but Betsy has more fine control, which might be better for something like this." The Iceman hesitated for a moment, then went on slowly, as if feeling his way, "Or... you could ask Emma. She taught me more about my powers after being in my head for just a few weeks than I learned here in years..."
"You're missing them already too, aren't you?" Warren walked over to slip his arms around the exotically beautiful, purple-haired woman who was standing by the window in their room, her violet eyes staring outside sparkling with unshed tears. "You're as sentimental as Meggan is, even if you *do* hide it much better."
She leaned back against him, and sighed. "Yes, I suppose I am... even though I know I'll see them again in just a few weeks. I think this visit has just made me realize how much I miss Brian, even if he *is* such a clothead," she smiled faintly, the fond affection easy to hear in her low voice. "He is my twin, after all. And except for Jamie, who *certainly* doesn't count --" Betsy shivered suddenly, involuntarily, remembering her last encounter with their insane older brother. It would be difficult, to go back to Braddock Manor for the first time since that disastrous party when Jamie had run amuck, when the Brigadier had been killed, when Sat-Yr-9 had been revealed as Courtney Ross's imposter and murderer. But if Brian and Meggan could face and bury the past, so could she. Maybe this wedding would exorcise the Manor, make it home again. "-- Brian and Meggan are the only family I have left now..." Sensing her lover's concern, the rebodied telepath made a deliberate effort to shake off her mood. "Or maybe weddings just make women feel sentimental..."
Seeing her sadness, remembering what Drake -- and Scott -- had said, Warren knew he'd made the right decision. Now the only problem left was how to tell her about it. The normally suave playboy cleared his throat a bit nervously. "Since you brought it up, Betts, I was kinda wondering -- think it's too late to make it a double ceremony?"
She twisted around in his loose embrace to stare back at him, eyes widen in surprise, then a happy smile lit her face. "Should I take that as a proposal, love?"
"Yeah, I guess so." The habitual confidence crept back in his voice now that he'd seen her reaction. "Will you marry me, Betsy? Not just someday but soon? Be not just a bridesmaid, but a bride?" Thrusting one hand into his slacks pocket he pulled it back out again a moment later, now holding a ring. "I should offer you my mother's ring, I know, but Hodge made off with that together with everything else when he conned me and pretty much cleaned me out, and I haven't been able to get it back. I got this one from LeBeau just now, from the stuff he's supposed to sell for Kitty's boyfriend -- I figured you wouldn't mind that? You seemed to like the guy, although lord knows why! It doesn't have the same proper provenance as a ring from Cartier or Tiffany's, of course, but the stone *is* really the finest quality -- I know enough about gems to recognize *that*! -- and I suppose some people would say its dubious provenance actually added to its value... sort of Wilkie-Collins-ish romantic... But if you don't like it, if you want something newer or bigger or a different style or a different stone or anything, we can run down into the city, visit Tiffany's or Cartier's--"
"Oh, don't be silly, Warren." She lifted her hand and laid it over his mouth to stop his runaway babble, then held it in the traditional pose, to let him slip the large, pear-cut, pink-tinged diamond onto the correct finger. "Age and size and style aren't what matters." Even if a stone that large *was* a tad impractical for everyday activities, much less battles, it was so obviously designed for a wealthy lady of leisure. "What matters is you giving it to me, and asking me. And of course I'll marry you! Getting ready for Brian and Meggan's wedding has made me realize how ready I am to settle down and have a family of my own, too."
"Umm... err... well..."
She gave her floundering companion a sharp look that pierced his soul. "You don't really want a family, though, do you, Warren? Is that what you're trying to say? You're just offering to marry me -- not settle down with me, start a family with me, raise children with me, is that what you're trying to say?"
"We can talk about all that later, Betts. We haven't really ever talked about 'later' and we don't have to decide anything for sure right now. I just thought... I didn't want you to feel left out because it was your brother getting married and not you, I thought you'd like it if we got married all together, and then we could think about what next, we'd have the rest of our lives to decide what next..."
"I don't want to get married just to have a wedding!" She yanked the ring off again, and thrust it back at him. "So if that's all you're offering, thank you but no thanks!"
Gambit found Storm outside, working in her flower bed again. "A moment, chere?"
"For you, my friend, always." A fleeting thought, and a tiny cloud gathered amd washed the crumbly soil clinging to her hands; another, and a brisk breeze sprang up and dried the moisture off. She held out one elegant, long-fingered hand -- clean now -- to her companion, who helped her to her feet with a courteous bow. "What can I do for you?"
She cocked an eyebrow seeing the expression on his face, strongly reminiscent of a small boy caught with his hands in the cookie jar. "It be more Gambit want t' do something for *you*, chere." He kept hold of her hand in his, and pulled his other hand out from his duster pocket to reveal a small, ivory-colored statuette. "I wanted t' give you dis..."
"It is truly lovely, Remy -- thank you." She examined the delicate figurine more closely. "Where did you find such exquisite worksmanship? In some gallery in the city? I would like to visit wherever carries work like this..." She peered at the slightly guilty look on her companion's face and asked suspiciously, her previous soft, melodious tone sharpening noticeably, "Remy, if this is from that man's raid..."
"Eh..." He hesitated, then bit the bullet manfully. "Yeah, Stormy, it be from Wisdom's treasure chest." Seeing her scowl deepen, he added hurriedly, "But don' worry none, chere, Gambit buy it off him all nice an' honest -- not even at dealer's discount. After all, de homme say half belong t' de p'tite chat, an' Gambit don' believe in cheatin' ladies..." He didn't feel obligated to mention that paying full value had been Pete's condition, not his own idea.
Ororo visibly teetered on the brink, for a long moment -- then her lips quirked up slightly, as she continued stroking the cool, smooth jade sensuously. "Actually, Remy, I might have appreciated it even more if you *had* 'lifted' it off him during your inventory..."
LeBeau burst into delighted laughter. "Dat my Stormy!"
"I've told you before -- many times -- not to call me Stormy." But her quite genuine smile and the affection warming her voice belied her caustic words.
"On one condition, chere." He paused, then, at her questioning look, went on, "Now dis visit be all over, you come away with Remy an' let dis Cajun show you a good time -- New York, N' Orleans, gay Paris, Monaco, Rio -- you name it, we go... an' we do it wit' style. Shopping, sightseeing, sailing, fine dining, dancing, theater, gambling... an' we forget de X for a little while, neh?"
"You don't have to feel sorry for me, Remy."
"Dat not what dis about, chere. Dat time we had in New Orleans was one o' de best times dis Cajun remembers, I just want de chance t' have de same good time again..." Then he gave her his best roguish grin, and let all his seductive charm pour out. "An' you have t' admit, chere, bein' X-Men not exactly been de best time either of us could have..."