Author's note: As per a suggestion, I worked VERY hard to keep my p.o.v.
under a little tighter control in this installment.  PLEASE let me know if
it's more effective, and what you thought of the story in general.

Disclaimer: All of these characters are the property of Marvel comics.  They
are being used here for non-profit purposes only.

______________________________________

The Inner Circle: Smoke and Ashes - Part Three
______________________________________

    Madelyne leaned against the lip of the balcony outside the lounge
reserved for use by the Lords Cardinal.  She was alone, the lounge itself
empty now that everyone had ventured downstairs to meet with the delegates
from Shinobi's Circle.  She had dressed for the occasion, in a sleek black
number that had, no doubt, been specifically designed with turning heads in
mind.  She didn't feel a part of the group this evening, however, and
thought she'd skip the meeting and the dinner party as well.

    Cool wind brushed soothing fingers through her hair, caressing her body
with its delicate touch.  It was night now, London rendered to vague shapes
and patterns under the dark, moonless veil.  It was a night made for
intrigue, making the plotting of her fellows a floor below all the more
appropriate.  After her run-in with Scribe and Tessa, and Sebastian turning
his back on her, she wouldn't feel comfortable participating in the
scheming.  She wondered, not for the first time, if the Hellfire Club was
really her cup of tea at all.

    "It's a beautiful night, isn't it?" A smooth voice asked from behind
her, reflecting in itself mild tones of the aristocracy.  The accent was
just a hairs bredth away from snobbery, but its general tone was friendly.

    "Yeah," she answered, not taking her gaze away from the vague shapes of
rooftops spread out below her.  "Just terrific."

    There was an awkward moment of silence as Trevor joined her on the
balcony.  Like herself, he was very well dressed.  In black slacks and
jacket, he wore a cream-colored vest and dark tie.  Also, like herself, he
had apparently opted not to dress in the Victorian style of clothing that
was the Hellfire Club's trademark.  He had trimmed his goatee to a
respectable length, and his curly green hair was pulled back into a short
pony-tail.  He was ordinarily a handsome man, and tonight, with his face
free of his usual expression of sarcastic bemusement, he was beautiful.

    "I noticed you weren't at the meeting," he began after a while.  His
voice had a certain alien quality to it this evening; a soft, almost
guiltily confessional tone.  "I was thinking that you might be out here.
I've been worried about you."

    "Oh you have, have you?" Madelyne asked gruffly.

    Trevor chuckled lightly, gently stirring a wineglass he held clasped in
his right hand.  "Call me crazy."

    Madelyne didn't respond, leaning her forearms against the balcony and
sighing into the night breeze.  Trevor likewise said nothing, merely sipping
from his wineglass periodically and gazing at the stars.

    "You know what I hate the most about this?" She asked abruptly,
shattering the silence before it grew oppressive.

    "What's that, then?"

    "The fact that I fooled myself into believing even for a moment that a
man like Sebastian could ever care about me," she hated the way her voice
quavered, but the words came spilling out and there was little she could do
to stop them.  "I mean, I knew what he was all about from the moment I met
him.  I didn't have any illusions about what he wanted from me, only about
what I wanted from him.  It's not like he even made the first move, you
know.  I practically threw myself at him."

    Trevor was looking at her now with a slight, sad smile.  She turned away
from him, not wanting him to see the miserable expression on her face.
"Madelyne..."

    "God," She breathed, banging a fist against the lip of the balcony, as
if she could transfer the pain she felt to inanimate stone, freeing herself
of the shame and humiliation. "Why do I keep doing this to myself?"

    She felt Trevor rest a hand against her shoulder, his flesh warm through
the thin fabric in the cold night air.  She shuddered at the touch and
closed her eyes, wanting desperately to pull away from him.  He made her
uncomfortable, and under normal circumstances he was the last man she'd
confide in.  But tonight was not a night for the ordinary, and of all the
others he was the only one who'd sought out her company this evening.

    "You're only human," Trevor said, his voice soft.  "It's a sad part of
being human that sometimes we hurt each other.  And that sometimes we hurt
ourselves."

    "Human," Madelyne echoed, and laughed sarcastically, shaking her head.
She dislodged the man's hand from her shoulder in the same movement.  "If
only it were that simple."

    Trevor let his hand fall to his side, and sipped absently at his
wineglass, though it was long empty.  He twirled it between his fingers and
studied it quietly, lost in thought for a time.

    "I know how hard you've been trying to fit in with the group," he said
finally.  "How hard you've been trying to be one of us, and to belong.
You've stepped on some toes, and you've had to admit to some unrealistic
expectations.  But things will settle down; they always do."

    "Doesn't make things any easier now."

    "Maybe not," he admitted.  "But I think, if you're honest with yourself,
you'll find that you've been trying too hard.  Expected too much too
quickly.  You've tried to forge a relationship with the most powerful man in
the club.  Ambitious, to be sure, but understandable.  We all want to be
loved, Madelyne.  It's another sad symptom of the human condition."

    Now it was her turn to remain silent.  Trevor brought his glass to his
lips again, then apparently noticed that it was empty for the first time and
began kneeding it between his hands.

    "Now, I've never bothered to fit in anywhere," he continued.  "I don't
think I could even if I tried.  I'm too much of an outsider, and I imagine
that I always will be.  I have very real problems getting along with other
people.  It's not a lifestyle I'd recommend, but it has given me a certain
perspective on life that I think you could benefit from."

    "What's that, then?" Madelyne asked softly.

    "It's an age-old addage, and one that's most likely been ignored ever
since its first utterance.  It's that, quite simply, only you have the power
to make yourself happy.  No one else can do that for you.  And looking to
other things, trying on different shoes and seeing how they fit, that's
fine.  But you should never expect those things to make you happy, and you
can't give up on yourself when they don't.  Is that corny enough for you?'

    Madelyne felt a small smile touch her lips.  "Are you a motivational
speaker now, Mr. Fitzroy?"

    "Not at all," he laughed.  "I'm talking out of my ass here."

    They both laughed, surrounded by the night and its infinite stars.  The
sky was a breathtaking canopy, revolving over their heads in its eternal
celestial dance.  The world seemed such a big place, so full of possibility,
and yet so full of pain.

    "I especially liked the part about how 'everybody wants to be loved,
it's part of being human'."

    "That was pretty rich, wasn't it?"

    "It's just, I don't know," she sighed, placing her hands at her sides,
"I've gotten so used to changing myself based on what other people expect of
me, and what other people want.  I feel like I can't do anything right
anymore.  Like I've been such an idiot."

    "For wanting to make a life for yourself?  I think you're being more
than a little harsh.  You're a beautiful, intelligent woman..."

    "Oh, please..."

    "It's true!" Trevor insisted.  "And you have every right to live the
kind of life you'd like.  You shouldn't need anyone elses approval to what
you want to.  You can't have any unrealistic expectations, either.  You
can't expect life to just hand you contentment on a silver platter.  If you
want something, you have to reach out and take it with your own two hands."

    Madelyne nodded.  That was a philosophy she could agree with.

    "Not that you always get what you thought you wanted," he continued, his
voice slightly lower now.  "Not that what you think you want, is always what
you get."

    They returned to their quiet, contemplative study of the sky, and
Madelyne felt one of Trevor's hands brush her own.  She curled her smaller
fingers around his, taking comfort in the warmth of his skin against her
own.

    "Look at the two of us," she said, grinning as she finally turned to
face him, wiping an errant lock of hair from her face with her free hand.
"Hiding on the roof, sulking, while everyone else is downstairs having a
good time.  We're pathetic."

    Trevor chuckled.  "If you call Tessa shrieking at everyone like a
banshee and Sebastian running around like a chicken with its head cut off a
good time, so be it.  I have a slightly different definition."

    She felt her grin widening, some of the resentment  she felt towards
Tessa and Sebastian fading with the knowledge that they weren't enjoying
themselves any more than she was.

    "It sounds awful," she confessed.  Trevor suddenly drew in closer, and
her discomfort returned.

    "Don't be afraid of me, Madelyne," he whispered.  "I think we've both
come a lot further than that."

    She bowed her head, shuddering slightly as he placed his wineglass on
the edge of the balcony and brushed his fingers gently over the smooth curve
of her cheek.

    "I don't know what to do anymore," she said, eyes burning.  "Every
choice I've ever made has been the wrong one.  I can't keep second guessing
myself.  I just can't."

    "Then do whatever you want," Trevor muttered, his lips close to her own,
now.  She could smell the faint, sweet scent of wine on his breath.  "Do as
the moment dictates.  To hell with Sebastian.  To hell with Selene, and the
whole damn Hellfire Club, if that's what it takes."

    "And let everything I've spent the last few months working for crash
down around me?  I just don't think that's possible."

    "Anything is possible," he said softly, and his lips met her own.  The
kiss was gentle, a massaging warmth entering her yet again where her skin
met his.  She wondered briefly if it was his mutant power at work, slowly
draining the life from her with every touch.  She reached into his mind and
found there only a lonliness, a sense of defeat and dissatisfaction that
mirrored her own.  A feeling of never measuring up, every accomplishment
leading only to further failure, and deeper self-loathing.  He drew his lips
from hers, leaving her slightly breathless.

     "Come with me to dinner tonight," he implored.   "Let the others waste
their time with that old fart from the States.  I think we can do ourselves
a damn sight better than that."

    Madelyne shook her head.  "Sebastian would kill us."

    "There you go again, worrying about other people rather than your own
well-being.  I think you just might be a terminal case."

    She laughed despite herself.  "You're right.  I *am* pathetic."

     "Is it a date then?"  He asked, his blue eyes meeting her green ones in
an intense gaze.  "I'll even pay for it.  How's that for insentive?"

    "Pretty good, bub," she said, squeezing his hand tightly.  "Think I
might be able to go for that."

    "That's the best news I've heard," he replied, and led her slowly back
the way he'd come.  "Seeing as how we're already dressed for the occasion, I
don't see why we can't just have a car take us directly."

    "It's a date."

    Trevor bowed low, dramatically, and walked with her from the darkened
balcony, back into the warm, well-lit confines of the Club.

----------------------------------------------------

    On the balcony, the darkess itself began to churn like a living thing,
until another woman stood there alone.  She faced inward, watching the two
as they left the room and disappeared from sight.  She squeezed Trevor's
wineglass in one black, gloved hand and ignored the jagged shards of glass
that bit into her when it shattered.

    "Oh, an excellant performance, Fitzroy," Selene laughed.  "Very well
done.  Very deeply moving, indeed."

----------------------------------------------------

    "Prettyboy," Donald Pierce snapped over his comm-link to the Reavers.
"Fitzroy and Pryor just left the mansion.  Tail them, and report back to me
every fifteen minutes."

    "Yes, sir."

    "I know we're supposed to wait for Frost and further word from Shinobi,
but if you have the opportunity to ventilate them feel free to do so."

    "Yes, sir!" Prettyboy responded.  From the tone of his voice, it seemed
that he had taken to his instructions with a new-found enthusiasm.

    Donald only wished he could be as enthusiastic about his task for the
evening.  The time had come for him to meet with Emma Frost and the woman
Shinobi had set in place to grant them entry to the mansion.  With a good
amount of luck, their enemies would all be dead come dawn.

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