Subject: [OTL]: [Maverick, Kai] [R] From Russia With . . . 3/Many Date: Tue, 02 May 2000 19:38:06 -0700 From: Jaya Mitai (See previous posts for disclaimer, and if you don't have them, SHAME on you! You don't deserve to sue me! ::looks petulant::) * * * * * * * Control walked the halls of the mansion. It was amazing, really. Absolutely amazing. The house was huge, full of alien technology and mutants. Even Charles Xavier! The head mutant advocate, and the most power telepath on Earth to boot. And the public never realized a thing. Pity the Russian base had fallen. He had no way to contact his employers. Then again, he rarely had lucid moments like these. Too many times Logan would intrude, and he would be lost, lost in the thoughts of the other. The despair at these people that even still acted like everything was okay, while they talked and plotted behind closed doors, never knowing he knew. He hadn't known, either. Known it would be like this. Never should have taken that job. Never should have -- "Hey, Wolvie?" Logan turned to look at Jubes, just coming down the front stairs. "What's up, darlin'?" She grinned slightly. "Y'know, you're really starting to weird out the Professor." He half-growled. "Oh, not you too . . ." She shrugged, then dropped her voice, grabbing him and pulling him into the empty Communications room. "Look, I know . .. what you told me -" "Didn't tell yah much of nothin'. You don't want t'know." She managed to hide the hurt his sarcastic tone caused. "You know you can trust me, Wolvie. You know it. You listened to me long enough. Give me the same trust. Wolvie, I'm worried about you." She embraced him tightly, and Control sneered as he felt her budding womanhood pressed against his chest. The sneer grew as he felt Logan's stomach curl in disgust at the thoughts that ran through their mind. "Anytime, anyplace you want to talk, I'll be there, okay?" Her voice was muffled into his chest. * * * * * * * Logan was still on the flat metal slab, paralyzed, half - asleep. They ritually bathed him once every few days, probably to make sure he didn't an infection of some kind or develop other health problems, considering the collar that had almost become a part of his neck. He couldn't do anything as he felt their hands on him, scrubbing hard, their gloves and their words, their disgust, their fear. Fear of him. He was to be feared. He was a predator here. He was in charge. "You wanna hear about it, or you wanna bail now?" Jubilee immediately took a seat across from him, accepting the soda he offered her. "So what do yah wanna know?" She took a long swallow of the soda, considering her next words, a bit anxious. He could smell it on her, as easily as he could the drugs in the can. "Did . . . did they win? Even for a moment?" He tilted his head, pretending to consider the question. "You tell me, darlin'." She nodded, blinking rapidly, an odd look crossing her face. She took another sip of the soda, to throw off the sudden drowsiness. "Did you ever think we weren't going to come for you?" He sat on the bed, watching her. "Crossed my mind a few times." Her voice was a bit slurred, but the vehemence was there. "But you had to know we wouldn't give up. _I_ wouldn't give up." "Wasn't a question of givin' up. Always a question of finding me at all. No telepaths, no great Xavier tracking satellites were goin' ta find me. Still don't know how yah did." "Jean . . . when you got . . . on the train? . . . Wolvie . . . sorry . . . I' m just really . . . tired, all of a sudden . . ." He tried for humor. "Great. I agree to pour my heart to the girl, an' she falls asleep. You tryin' t'tell me somethin'?" She looked really apologetic, the can slipping from her fingers. "Tired . . . feels . . . . weird . . ." He rose and went over to her, bent down - NO! and gently picked her up, laying her on the bed. "Little more comfy than a chair?" She nodded slightly, blinking at him. He gave her a weird look. "Darlin', you smell -" "Missed . . . you . . ." Nonononononononononononononononononononono . . . He leaned down and kissed her gently. "Like that, darlin'?" He sighed deeply, then grinned. "Oh yeah. Just like that." Jubilee managed to look confused for a moment. "Wolvie . .. what're. . . you doing?" Her voice was so soft, questioning, like the voice of a little girl - She IS a little girl, dammit!!! Don't DO this! Can't - He smiled reassuringly at her, tracing two fingers down her jawline. "Nose don't lie, Jubes. Didn't know you felt that way." Her eyes were unfocused, the drugs doing their work perfectly. And she was getting plenty aroused, just from the touch on her face. If the nose told true. "What, you like that?" Her uncomprehending nod was just the response he wanted. "Wolvie . . . I feel strange . . ." He shushed her gently, tracing his hand lower, to her throat, lower still - NO! No no no nononononononoIcan'tbedoingthisIcan'tICAN'T! She reacted to him slightly, all the drugs would allow, her breathing deepening as he gently pulled up her forever untucked teeshirt. "Like that too, eh? Say the word, Jubes, I don't wanna hurt yah." "Oh . . . Wolvie . . ." He smiled. "Well would you look at this," one of the voices said, surprised. "Guess there's a bit of human in him after all." "Knew I shouldn't have worn this low of a neckline to work," the other voice said, sounding embarrassed. He glanced; she'd locked the door. Nothing to interrupt them. He gently reached behind her, unhooking her bra and laying it beside her. "You been doin' some growing since I left?" Her slight, pleased smile spoke volumes to him. "Amazing . . ." she breathed, as he lowered his face to her. "Y'know, maybe we should . . . uhm . . . finish this later." One of them was definitely blushing. "How long do you think the drugs will last?" "We could give him a little more . . ." Soon there was no material left between their bodies, and Jubilee was breathing heavily, a thin sheen of sweat on a perfect teenage body. Her work in the Danger Room had given her quite the abs and shape, and her figure was something that, with time, could grow into something fit for a Greek stonecutter to emulate. He traced his hands along it, noting her shivering, the only movement the drugs would allow her. It had to be driving her crazy. He grinned down at her, for the first time truly appreciating what he had here. A young girl, someone that adored him. Worshipped him. And no one thought it strange that they spent so much time alone. No one would ever know. He watched her eyes, her pupils, dilated as they were. Tears were gathered in them, but no fright. "Please . . . please . . . it's too much . . ." It would take a lot to get her to reach her peak through that haze, and he had all the time in the world to get her there. "What . . . you want me to do this?" He popped a shining claw, tracing it gently down her from the tip of her throat, careful not to cut her, and the exhilaration was tremendous. He could smell her need, he wanted it. He wanted her. And he was the best there was at what he did. Even if it wasn't very nice. * * * * * * * He never expected to wake up. North kept his breathing long and slow, didn't move, stayed relaxed. He heard her. At least, he assumed it was her. He could hear glass being swept up, to his right, and the worn, beer-smelling upholstery he was lying on told him she'd put him on the couch. Which meant that he was still at home. Well, the bed's ruined, a little voice pointed out to him. So she was taking care of him. Just like before. Damn twisted sense of tithe of hers kicking back in, then. He could use it, if it was sincere. His head was still for the moment, though he was willing to bet his country that it would start spinning again if he moved. He felt exhausted, but tasted nothing bitter in the back of his throat, and his arm felt fine. Hadn't been a heart attack, then. He was probably lucky. He never heard her approach, and her voice so close startled him. "Damned faking . . . prick!" Apparently she was having trouble finding the right words. "Occasionally," he said quietly. His voice was rough. He opened his eyes. She was glaring down at him, not exactly a happy camper. As a matter of fact, she was finally letting her anger show. And it was formidable. "Of all the damned places to shoot me, you shoot me in the _elbow_?!?!? Do you have any _idea_ how long -" She broke off and left him, and the glass of water she'd had in her hand, and stormed off to sit across from him on an imported Lazy Boy. He sat up warily, not overly pleased to find he wouldn't have lost his bet. "What do you want?" She glared. "I want your damn answer, so I can get the hell outta here before a fucking nuclear war starts." He wasn't at all surprised to hear she wasn't hiding her frustration with him anymore. Apparently her patience had limits. He reached out, took the water. Drank the entire glass. Set it back down. "Fine. We'll work together. Both go in. If your missiles aren't there, leave. I'll get Logan. You so much as breathe threateningly, though, and we'll see what a head shot _will_ do to you." She glared at him. "Speak for yourself. You _ever_ shoot me again -" North closed his eyes. "If I ever shoot you again, you'll never wake up." She didn't respond. * * * * * * * Logan awoke in the cell, per usual. He'd never been so glad to be there. It was metal, and square, and smelled of antiseptic cleaner and human waste. I'm here. I'm in this cell. It had to have been the other. Control. Posing as me. ME! Logan leapt up with a snarl, glaring, looking for something to shred, to tear, to give his anger direction. There was nothing. No bed, no toilet, no mirror. No visible door. The room was empty, save the air and him. Enraged, he clawed at the walls, ignoring the blood that ran from the six wounds his claws had made in his hands. He'd raped her. The bastard raped her, and she thought it was him. And he'd made her _like_ it. He'd given her drugs. Addictive. Which meant it'd happen again. She'd ask for it. Need it. Beg for it. He shook his head sharply, retreating, trying to find anything to take away the pain, the dishonor. The guilt. There was no place to go. Even his mind was no refuge. He'd _liked_ it. He'd wanted her. Enjoyed her. He could remember it, remember every sensation, every touch, every scent -- And even now, he responded enthusiastically to the memory. He roared with frustration, the sound echoing in the lonely, empty cell. * * * * * * * * Maverick cursed for the millionth time and wondered how it was they'd ended up here. The trainway was huge, crowded, and noisy. Like most things in Russia, even when it had been part of the USSR. The loudspeaker screamed over the crowd in about seven different languages, pickpockets moved among the beggars, people ran and bartered and yelled and hugged and laughed. Great place to get shot. Or disappear. He had his arm around Kai's waist, and her own arm wrapped around his affectionately, almost leaning on him as they made their slow way through Processing. "Couldn't get that hand any lower, could you," she growled quietly at him, a mischievous smile plastered around her bared teeth. He suppressed a grin, then decided against it and smiled broadly. "This is Europe, not America. I could have my hand on your ass and no one would care." "You _do_ have your hand on my ass." Her voice was positively acidic. He didn't glance, but moved it slightly. "If you weren't so damn _short_ this wouldn't be so awkward." No one more than three feet away could have heard that conversation. He had to hand it to her, nestling into the crook of his shoulder that that. She was a pro. The two of them looked for all the world like a newlywed pair, down to the shining rings. It itched on a finger that had worn one before. You couldn't tell she really wanted to kick his ass. Or that he had his other hand on a gun. "Short?" It looked for all the world like she was whispering naughty nothings at him. "You got a problem with that?" He smiled, leaning down to lay his cheek on her hair, breathing deeply. "If you don't shut the fuck up . . ." They finally made it to the window. North spoke Italian to the man, who listened a moment and then retreated, letting a bubbling blonde speak with him. North proffered the tickets as Kai glanced around, looking for all the world as though she simply couldn't believe she was actually _there_. Typical tourist, and she looked very American, so it wasn't that hard. "Honey," she whispered suddenly, grinning, and practically gave him whiplash bending his ear to her. "That teller you spoke to just took off into the crowd. What me to go 'look for the restrooms?'" He leaned back up, contemplating that while giving the teller the tickets and their passports. "Can't you wait just ten more minutes? We'll be at the hotel by then." Though he spoke in English, it was obvious the blonde understood it, as she smiled and then suppressed it firmly, in the typical 'Men' look. It didn't matter what country you were in. They never understood. Kai grinned back. *You have no idea, lady.* And then she realized their mistake. "Welcome to Russia, Mr. North," the blonde teller said cheerfully. David North was not the name on the passport. Kai whipped around, freeing his arm and getting the jump on the person behind them at the same time. Her quick whirl was perfect, her knee going directly towards that place that makes men men. She gasped apologies to him as North blinked, hastily apologized for his wife's stumble, and practically dragged her through the crowds. He'd managed to get the passports back, and she'd stamped them. They wanted them to stay in Russia, then. They had of course attracted the attention of the local police, who laughed quite rowdily at the man gasping on the floor, and the short American woman that had taken him down. The police did not pursue them. They really didn't need to. "North!" Kai melted into the crowd at the north side, the people that hadn't seen her take down the Russian. If Maverick saw her go, he didn't do anything. And then she knew why. The original teller, the man that had gone out the back as soon as David had stepped up to the window, was standing in straight line of sight to Maverick. No one between them. It would have been child's play for the marksmen to pick him off. Except for the frightened little girl in the Russian's arms. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck . . . "Put it down, or . . . but threats are so vulgar," the man observed, holding the little girl _by her throat_ off the ground. Giving him a time limit to comply. Kai vanished into the background, worked her way across the crowd, trying to appear just jostled. Indeed, she stepped on enough feet that she _was_ jostled, rather roughly, by people that didn't take too kindly to short Americans ogling the fall of their mighty country. She almost went down under one particularly enthusiastic elbow. She wiped the blood from her mouth. Thanks, asshole. But she didn't have time to retaliate, with, oh, a kidney shot. There was something far more important at stake here. She couldn't suppress the memory. Hearing Maverick tell her about Tasha. The guard she had killed. The _pregnant_ guard. And now, she was responsible for another child's life. She could barely see North through the crowd, but she knew that he had to have disarmed by now. Judging from the sheer hate he held for her, children were quite dear to him. He was unarmed, at their mercy. So why hadn't the bastard let the girl go?! North was wondering the same thing. "I'm not armed," he called out. "Let her go." Though it was probably supposed to be a request, it came out an order. The teller/terrorist laughed. And didn't. Fucker! Put her down! There had to be another enemy out in the crowd somewhere, probably entertaining the cops they'd seen. And the blonde bitch. Which meant if they saw her rushing up, pushing through the crowd, they'd kill her. Unless . . . the blonde had never looked at her. Maybe these people didn't know what she looked like . . . Kai took a deep breath. She had to get through the crowd fast. A few minutes with no blood to the brain caused extensive damage, particularly in children. And the crowd wasn't about to let her just run up. Oh, yeah, Kai. Let's be damned heroic. Pull attention to yourself. Let them see you heal. Let them know you're here to get the missiles. Fucking brilliant idea, there. A balance between the life of one little girl, or the lives of a million little girls. But she couldn't see the frantic, muted look in the million little girls' eyes. Only this little girl's. Maverick yelled again. The girl wasn't released. Fuck it. "Adrienna!!! MY BABY!!!" No one was more surprised to hear the words come out of her mouth than Kai. The crowd parted like water to allow the hysterical mother towards her child. The teller looked momentarily surprised as she burst out of the crowd, and raised a gun to her. Kai ignored it, continued running, and he fired. And she didn't go down. It wasn't a killing shot, either. shoulder. Hurt like hell. Probably meant to make North feel worse, having the mother bleeding to death on the ground. Healing symbiont or no, she wouldn't keep her feet long. She didn't look at North, she simply punched the terrorist in the jaw, a frighteningly weak blow considering her usual, and grabbed the now unconscious girl, spinning so that her back was to the already recovered Russian. She allowed herself to curl around the girl, and three more shots were fired. Maverick swore as the damned Russian didn't release the girl. Let her go, you asshole, let her go . . . "Let her go!" The teller smirked at him. "You never should have come here." "Adrienna!!! MY BABY!!!" Maverick almost choked as he realized it was Kai's voice. The shout cut her a straight line through the crowd, and he was not at all surprised to see the Russian turn, and fire at her. Maverick dove for his gun, equidistant between him and the terrorist. Out of his peripheral he caught sight of her grabbing the girl, covering her. Then his gun was in his hand, and he rolled swiftly to the left. But the first bullet wasn't for him. The teller shot Kai, point blank, in the back. Left side, aimed for the heart. Killing shot. Wouldn't have been if Kai hadn't been in such a damned curled position -- But if she hadn't curled up like that, the bullet probably would have passed through her into the child. The second shot was aimed at where he had been, and Maverick had no trouble - or compunction - at putting a piece of lead through the man's heart. Kai was slumped lifelessly over the child, who was barely breathing as it was, without almost one hundred and sixty pounds of dead woman laying atop her. Hastily he hefted Kai off, briefly checking for a pulse. She had none. Healing from a bruise was one thing. He didn't know if she could survive this. Her healing was nowhere near the speed of Logan's. And a heart shot was touchy with him, as well. Sometimes North'd had to use artificial respiration on either Logan or Creed when they took a hit like that. And right now, he didn't have the luxury of time to try. That had been the most unintelligent move he'd ever seen her make. She'd given away her presence here, let them know she was coming, when they had shown they were much more concerned with him that her. And she'd also shown them that she might be working with him. Damned stupidest thing she could have done, in her position. She would have had a relatively easy time getting through security if they were no longer worried about him. Now that they knew she was working with him, they'd be ready for both. Working as distractions for each other would be far less effective now. Her move made no tactical sense. But she'd saved the life of a little girl. And possibly his. He bent and breathed a lungful of air into the little girl's lungs as he caught approaching sirens over the murmur of the crowd. She coughed and her breathing increased. It had been cut off for a minute, maybe two. Not fatal, maybe even no marked damage. "Adinayle!" He looked up as a Yiddish woman came running through the crowd. Damn. He spoke German to her, and got only incoherent shaking of the head in reply. She was a bent, greying older woman, perhaps even a nanny, judging from the little girl's clothes. He gestured at the now very near sirens and handed the girl to the woman, who nodded and rushed off with her bundle as though the girl weighed nothing, her bent back straight. Then he knelt again and checked for a pulse on Kai. Nothing. The right shoulder wound seemed to have almost stopped bleeding, though. Then again, it would, if she was dead. He didn't have the time or the luxury to carry her off. Too conspicuous, bad idea. Besides, she was probably dead. Better her people find out about it now. He glanced up at the sound of police whistles and the crowd suddenly dispersed, as though nothing had happened. With a curse he tucked away his gun and hefted her into his arms, swaggering as though he was merely playing romantic and carrying his bride, and she merely calm in her lover's arms. * * * * * * *