DISCLAIMER:
This is an unauthorized work of fiction using characters that are (c) & TM
by Marvel Comics Group (see copyright notes at the end). No profit is being
made on this story, so I'll invoke The Marvel Readers' Bill of Rights (for the
full text see Stan's
Soapbox in some of the May 1998 comics, e.g. Generation X #38):
"8. The right to practice scripting and drawing our Marvel characters for
your own pleasure and amusement."
The story is (c) 2002 by Tilman Stieve (Menshevik@aol.com). You can download
this and copy it for your entertainment, but don't sell it for profit, or
Marvel will set their lawyers on you. Please do not archive this on your
website without informing me first.
The Trouble With Love Beyond the Grave is the fourth story of the Twilight
Yet to Come timeline. It should be understandable on its own, but you may
prefer to read the first three stories, Hang On to Your Ego Strange
Headfellows and Between the Winds, first. You can find them and other
Tales of the Twilight Menshevik (not to mention some related artwork)
archived on "Fonts of Wisdom" (http://home.att.net/~lubakmetyk/) and
"Down-Home Charm" (http://alykat.hispeed.com/rogue).
WARNING: This story features references and descriptions of
sexual acts between consenting adults. If you are too young to read them or if
such descriptions bother you, I must ask you to wait until you're old enough.
By Tilman Stieve, aka the Menshevik
Some people would consider me fortunate because
I found a great love twice in my life... Even though I lost them both in
violent deaths, these people are ready with the old saw 'Tis better to have
loved and lost than never to have loved at all. That's how Pyro tried to
console me. I snorted that writing all those airport bookshop novels must have
addled his brain.
He took it in good humor, telling me it was a
good sign, one that showed how much I had already progressed despairing grief
to random snarkiness.
St. John is a good friend. One of the few good
friends I have, I must add. We've been together on and off for close to two
decades now, going back to when I found the second so-called Brotherhood of
Evil Mutants. In those days, when no one knew that Raven Darkh"lme, assistant
director of D.A.R.P.A., and St. John Allerdyce, writer of best-selling novels,
were secretly mutant terrorists, I lived with the first great love of my life,
Irene Adler. Irene was blessed and cursed with the inborn ability to look into
the future and to gauge probabilities, an ability that had led her to me years
before.
Both Irene and I had lived eventful lives
before we met, and we both thought we had experienced too much to still believe
in the kind of love we then discovered together. Irene Adler shared our lives
in difficult times. We tried to shape the course of events by judiciously
applied acts of subterfuge and violence. Unfortunately Irene's powers were not
100 percent accurate she dealt in probabilities, not certainties, after all
and so on a few occasions our actions made things worse instead of better. Pyro
was one of the mutants I recruited to our group on Irene's advice, but back
then I saw him only as an underling. My emotional needs were entirely fulfilled
in the cozy little home Irene lover and best friend all in one had set up
with me.
We had a son together my shape-shifting
powers enable me to become a fully-functioning male when I want to but to
save Kurt from dangers she foresaw we reluctantly gave him away. Later we
adopted a daughter, Rogue, who also joined our 'Brotherhood' as soon as she
declared herself old enough.
But our happiness did not last. Rogue found
herself unable to control her power to absorb the powers, abilities and
memories of anyone she touched. In addition to that she got into deep trouble
after she permanently absorbed the powers and memories of one of my old foes,
Carol Danvers alias Ms. Marvel. That accident eventually drove her away from
us, for Irene and I were unable to help her gain control over her power or to
alleviate the problems caused by the Ms. Marvel persona lurking in her
subconscious. Rogue's departure to join the X-Men was a hard blow. Within a
year I decided on a new course of action and put myself and my group at the
U.S. government's disposal in return for a conditional amnesty. We called
ourself Freedom Force, a much catchier name, if I may say so, than that of the
group of which I am currently a member, X-Factor. However, while the change
took us out of the police and intelligence agencies' firing lines, our lives
were no less filled with risk than they had been before. The main difference
was that we now put our lives on line for on occasions we did not choose, at
the behest of bureaucrats in Washington.
And soon our luck ran out. Irene Adler was
killed in action and there was nothing I could do to save her. She had foreseen
that one of the two of us was going to die on that mission, and
characteristically she secretly decided it was going to be her, giving me no
say in the matter and not even a chance to say good-bye.
It was as if my life ended that day, 16
September, 1993. I found myself alone in the world Rogue had apparently been
killed fighting alongside her new teammates, and Pyro, who by then had become a
friend, disappeared in the course of another disastrous mission. For a while
one of the few things that kept me going was my determination to exact
retribution on the Shadow King, the discorporate entity responsible for Irene's
death. But, as Irene had wished, I slowly returned to the company of the living
and found someone new to love.
To the surprise of both parties concerned, that
turned out to be Valerie Cooper, the government overseer of Freedom Force and
later X-Factor. At our first meeting I had not been overly impressed by her, at
the time she was working with Senator Robert Kelly. She was efficient and
ambitious, I thought, but most importantly the young career bureaucrat (she had
just turned 30) was a mutiphobe intent on preparing the ground for Kelly's
mutant registration schemes. Over the years, she first was an obstacle to my
plans, later an ally of convenience, but her own attitudes changed and slowly
and almost imperceptively she won first my respect and then my love. We moved
together and once again I was happy. Valerie gave birth to our two lovely
daughters (lovely by our standards, not those of society in general) whom we
named Irene and Hope. And we set up our house in Georgetown, next to X-Factor
HQ.
At the same time I began to mend bridges with
two of my children. Kurt finally learned who his parents were, and although he
did not warm to me entirely, we became close enough to take an interest in each
other's lives, and he did not mind when I fell into the role of grandmother
after the birth of his son Errol in 1998. Rogue meanwhile became involved with
Magneto, the former leader of the first Brotherhood of Evil Mutants, and
started to live with him, which put Valerie and me in the position of parents-in-uncommon-law to the Master of
Magnetism. Magnus does not at all feel comfortable in crowds, so he took some
time to adjust to the new life after his reformation, not just with Rogue's
family, but also with his own children, Quicksilver and the Scarlet Witch, and
their families.
Val Cooper was rather different to live with
than Irene Adler. Where Irene had possessed seemingly unlimited patience and
kept silent, Val would get angry at me and bawl me out. The new relationship
was a lot more stormy, but also more passionate, at least in the physical
sense. I like to think the love between Val and me was as strong as that
between Irene and me, but the mix of the different aspects of that love was
different...
And then Valerie, thanks to her irrepressible
urge to accompany her teams into the field despite the lack of superpowers of
her own, got herself killed. Luckily Rogue happened to be at hand on that
mission and was able to save Val after a fashion by absorbing her memories
permanently. That gave me the idea that at one point it would be possible to
provide Valerie with a new body, just as Charles Xavier had acquired his new
one, by cloning. So I took care to collect sufficient cell samples before we
buried her old body.
It was only fair that Moira MacTaggert would
help me to bring about my ends: The first love of my life had been killed on
MacTaggert's island, it would be fitting if the second one would be returned to
life in a body of her own in the same place. It was comparatively easy to get
MacTaggert to help me. She has very romantic ideas about what being a laird and
clan chief entails (if I had read Sir Walter Scott, I could say how much of her
notions she got from him), so the buttons I had to press were obvious. Not to
mention that she owed me this Irene Adler had died defending her and hers.
While MacTaggert and I were preparing in
secret, Valerie's persona started a new life in Rogue's mind and body. As far
as I could tell as an outside observer, it was not an easy time for either of
them, not that they would admit it. One unexpected effect of the two sharing
one brain was that it enabled Rogue to have a baby. Changing shifts or watches
at the helm of Rogue's mind they could ensure that the fetus was not killed by
Rogue's absorption power. And so Rogue and her partner Magneto became the happy
parents of a little daughter, Harriet Adler, who inherited Destiny's family
name.
A little over a year later I could tell them
about the clone, and Val agreed to relocate into this new body. With the help
of a telepathic friend her personality and memories were transplanted to their
new home. Valerie had to wait another month to be 'born', but then she was back
among the living in body as well as in spirit. And about another year after
that, having been raised by Moira MacTaggert, she was back with me and our
daughters in Washington. Pyro and I picked her up at the X-Factor airport.
Because of the dangerous side-effects that
frequently occur when a clone's growth is accelerated, the aging of Val's new
body was not tampered with. It would age at the normal rate. My metamorphic
power seems to grant me at least some immunity from the effects of old age (I
do not look the three-quarter century that I had lived at the time of Val's
rebirth), so we had the option of waiting for Val to become a mature adult in
body a second time. And we braced ourselves for the long wait.
In the meantime, we lived what seemed to be a
perfectly happy family life, although we pushed the borders of 'normality' a
little more than before. Hard to believe that in our family with two
blue-skinned females and a blue-haired one with a wrong number of digits this
cherubic blond toddler would be the strangest of all. But there she was,
sitting on a high chair at her desk, swiftly going through files and official
papers, or checking Irene and Hope's homework. Valerie and I were in love, but
in a Platonic or cerebral way, at least as far as Val was concerned. In her
pre-pubescent body she did not have the hormones to desire more from me
physically than an occasional hug. In the meantime I curbed my libido as best I
could, occasionally seeking manual or mechanical relief. However, as time wore
on, the occasions when Val behaved a bit distant became more frequent. It was a
little worrying, but I had no idea how serious the crisis Val was going through
actually was. Until, once again, it was too late.
What happened was that Val's clone developed a
mind of its own and that Val, who can be to too true to her own principles for
her own and everybody else's good, decided that her dominant personality was an
insurmountable obstacle to the development of the little girl inside her and
that therefore it would have to be removed. As usual she planned things well
and set off to Westchester to have Charles Xavier erase her personal memories
from the girl's brain when I was away on a mission. Apparently she got him to
agree do that by telling him an alarmist tale about what was happening inside
her head.
Once again my lover had not given me a chance
to try to dissuade her or even to say good-bye.
The months that followed the discovery of Val's
psychic suicide were bleak, and I do not care to recall them. At least Rogue,
Pyro and Kurt were there for me during the most difficult phase. Meanwhile,
Valerie's clone-sister Heloise settled down in Snug Valley, at the base of
Rogue's team, the Meddlers, in the Alleghenies. I really did not have the
nerves to look after her, indeed, so early after Valerie's second death I could
barely look at her without bursting into tears. So she moved in with Rogue,
Magneto and their daughter. Val's brother and his wife, even though accustomed
to all kinds of weirdness, could not be convinced to take her in for more than
a couple of weeks at a time. Maybe that was a good thing, at least Irene and Hope
got to see their little 'aunt' fairly often when Rogue, Harriet and Heloise
came to visit us in Washington or they went to visit them in West Virginia.
However, the constant reminders of Valerie she
kept hearing not only from Irene, Hope and myself put a strain on Heloise.
After a time she made bigger efforts to be excused from accompanying the others
to Washington, and on my return visits she would frequently see to it that she
stayed away, sleeping over with her friends, Rajinder and Dunmaya Shaara (the
children of Rogue's teammates Agni and Photon) or with Maggie Cloudstar, the
daughter of Danielle Moonstar and Joshua Guthrie. I no longer got to see her
that often, and a part of me was relieved not having to have her in my face.
Still, I followed her progress from afar. Whatever learning deficits she had
from being confined in her own subconscious during the years when Valerie was
in control, she overcame with satisfying speed. Once she started elementary
school she settled down comfortably with above-average and top grades, just as
Val had done back in '68.
Back in Washington I tend the garden. Two young
girls can keep a woman busy, even if I can count on the occasional help of
friends like Uncle Pyro (Irene and Hope can't or won't get their mind around
the difference between the way they learned to pronounce 'St. John' in school
and the way he pronounces his first name). It was a good thing that they didn't
leave me enough time at day to feel sorry for myself during the two years
before Irene enrolled in Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.
Nights are a different matter, however...
***
It was in July 2000 on
one of those rare hot, sunny weekends as Sarah Andreesen, the daughter-in-law
of Valerie's Aunt Emma modestly put it: "We get one like this per year if we're
lucky, and then every single Hamburger goes into the parks to roast in the
sun". While we left our children with the family, Kerstin, Sarah's youngest,
took Val and me out to the Stadtpark along with her boyfriend Herbert, and we
could see that was no exaggeration.
The park was thronged
with people glad of the warmth and sunshine after the preceding gray and wet
week. A dog wading in the circular pool near the eastern end was curiously
following a model motor-boat, but when the little girl at her father's remote
control turned the boat around so it headed towards it, the mutt became worried
and hurried ashore. On the nearby lawns the good citizens of Hamburg were
trying to make up for their chronic melanin deficiency. A lot of flesh was in
evidence, in hues ranging from chalky white to lobster red and light brown,
with a few deeply bronzed types in the crowd who looked as if they had bought
their tans from a studio or brought it from a vacation in Mallorca or
Fuerteventura. Some of the sunbathers obviously improvised one woman in her
twenties had stripped down to her silver-gray bra and panties, and her
unprotected skin was turning a crimsonish shade of pink others had come laden
down with all the impedimenta of a seaside vacation. Beneath the green bronze
statue of an Amazon archer mounted on a hind (what had the sculptor been
smoking?) sat three girls in their late teens, two topless and one in a bikini,
at their Sunday picnic, the latter strumming a guitar while one of her
companions was busy rubbing suntan lotion into the skin of her shapely torso
and the other set up their meal from a big basket. The right half of her back
was covered by a large and intricate snake tattoo. (Maybe we saw a biased sample that day, but Valerie
declared that every other man and woman had a tattoo of some description).
Others were a lot more modest, for instance the participants of a Turkish
family barbecue whom we passed a couple of minutes later. Even they, being a
fairly secular lot, were underdressed in comparison to two Sikh ladies who
crossed our path just after that.
After Kerstin had
dragged us to her favorite duck pond (about a dozen mallards drowsily floating
in the sun incurious to find out if we had anything to eat for them, while
countless dragonflies flitted above the stagnant green water), we went past the
noisy playground and children's wading pool to the Stadtpark lake. Even the
adjoining great lawn, which normally is the preserve of athletic youths and
overweight office workers playing football, volleyball and baseball, was
largely taken over by sunbathing picnickers on that sultry afternoon. The oval
lake was crowded with all manner of canoes, pedal-boats and rowing-boats. Valerie
pointed out that a few of these flew the Hamburg flag a white castle on red
that had served as the template for the costume of Hammonia, the local
superheroine (and later Meddler) whom she had first met during the first
metapowers conference. From time to time a motor ferry would sail onto the
lake, turn around, and leave, as part of a tourists' excursion on the canals of
the north-east of the city.
Eventually we went to
the Freibad, a lido on the eastern end of the lake separated from the oval by a
wall in the water. It was quite crowded, we had to stand in line for what
seemed like ages before we got in. Most of the activity was around the edges,
which left a family of tufted ducks largely undisturbed as they swam around the
center and intermittently dove down for something to eat. Kerstin stripped down
to the bottom half of her two-part swimsuit, which apparently roused Valerie's
competitive instinct, and she immediately followed suit. In America she didn't
do that sort of thing in public, she was a (minor) public figure there, so her
breasts were distinctly whiter than the rest of her skin, which made her
reddish-brown nipples appear even more vivid in contrast.
In my eyes there was
no contest between Kerstin's girlish little cones and Valerie's familiar
well-rounded matriarchal bosom. Well, I would say that, being responsible to no
small extent for their state by getting her with child twice. So what if they
were no longer as firm as they had been the first time I saw them naked and
touched them. I think I actually preferred the darker color their tips now had.
They were ideally suited to the woman who carried them like the rest of her
body the comfortable softness of her breasts and lips and the hardness of her
well-trained muscles, the ticklish spots under her armpits and ribcage and the
toughness of her fingers, all that was my Val all over.
While Kerstin and
Herbert lazed on a blanket in the sun, Val quickly clambered down into the
water, to cool down as well as for some exercise. I joined her and below her
voice she thanked me for not choosing a body for myself that did not outshine
Kerstin's or her own. We swam a few laps together, after which I sat down at
the water's edge while Val rejoined the others to dry herself off.
I felt a sense of dissatisfaction.
Everybody got to show off except me, while I had to sit around in one of my
'normal' bodies. That was a state of affairs I no longer wanted to tolerate, so
I slid back into the water and plants, swam a little beneath the surface, and
when I emerged again I was back in my accustomed dark blue body. Looking back,
I could see Val freeze in surprise, but she could breathe a sigh of relief
most of the crowd ashore and in the water did not visibly react, as if they did
not see me or as if there was an unspoken agreement not to regard my appearance
as in any way unusual. A handful of young men and women did come up to me, but
they did not bear pitchforks and torches and their intentions proved friendly.
Tschuldigung, sind
Sie etwa mit Neitkrohler verwandt?" asked the tall unshaven young man in the
lead, excuse me, are you related to Nightcrawler?
He had a badge with
the legend 'FC St. Pauli 1910' tattooed on his shoulder evidently a supporter
of the football club whose games Kurt likes to attend whenever he visits his
native country. My younger son had even then become very popular among St.
Pauli fans, partly because mutant rights (or perhaps more precisely, the fight
against mutiphobia) was a cause that fit in well in their general political profile,
partly because Kurt's swashbuckling attitude agreed so well with the piratical
self-image (they had made the Jolly Roger the second emblem of the club they
supported).
In any case, the
youths were thrilled when I admitted that yes, I was Nightcrawler's parent.
They bombarded me with questions what are you doing here in Hamburg? Do you
think there's a chance of Pauli being promoted to the Bundesliga after the
upcoming season? (That I would take an interest in my son's favorite soccer
club clearly went without question).
One of the original
trio of onlookers, a short-haired woman with a shiny metal spike beneath her
lower lip, asked me for an autograph, and soon others did too rather a heady
feeling, it doesn't happen every day, and I did not mind that for this crowd I
was interesting mainly because of my connection to my son, the UK-based mutant
superstar.
"Can I have an
autograph too?" asked a sexy topless blonde brandishing an Edding marker. "I
think you're incredible."
I looked her in the
eyes. "But what shall I sign. You don't have a piece of paper."
For an answer, Val
brazenly pointed at her ample left breast.
"Oh dear, what will my
wife say about that," I sighed and proceeded to write my name and a little more
on the proud warm flesh.
Valerie beamed at me
as I surreptitiously fondled her under the cover of that action. She whispered:
"She'll say: I can't believe I'm doing this, but I'm having the time of my
life. Can't wait until tonight...!" Her broad smile also was due to the fact
that for once I referred to her by the dreaded 'W-word'!
The men standing
around us stared with huge grins, while the little lady with the stud winked at
us with a knowing smile. My instinct told me that unlike the others she had
followed the news about us over the years with diligent attention and saw what
really was going on. I wonder if she was a mutant. She also got an autograph,
but that I put safely on her shirt.
Later, Val and I went
out shopping and she insisted on buying St. Pauli T-shirts for all our family.
For me she picked one with a Jolly Roger design, saying: "This should go well
with your skull fixation."
In the evening we
returned to Val's aunt's Jugendstil house in Winterhude to tuck up Irene and
tiny Hope (just over a year old then), to take a shower and to change into
clothes that weren't sweat-soaked. Valerie then finally discovered (in the
bathroom mirror) what I had written on the underside of her breasts. "Oh you!"
she laughed out, giving me a playful slap, but there was no time for
hanky-panky yet!
Instead we went out
for a quick bite and drink before we ended up at a free open-air cinema
performance on the Rathausmarkt. They showed Lola rennt,
a quite fascinating comedy that showed the same situation developing into three
completely different endings that unravel from what at first glance appear to
be insignificant changes. It made us reflect about what Irene Adler had to try
to unravel when her precognition gave her confusing glimpses of the future, but
by that point Val had long ceased to worry about my memories of Destiny.
Indeed, as it was also a romantic story, we sat and cuddled among the big
crowd. It still was hot and perspiration and halfway through we felt sticky
again. It was around midnight when it finished, we walked along the Innenalster
to dry in the cooling night air. The lights of the city were reflected in the
calm surface of the Alster Lake, from time to time you could hear ducks
quacking out loudly, and we were happy to be alive and in love. "We'll have to
send Kurt a postcard tomorrow to thank him for that nice reception at the
lido," I recall Valerie saying. Finally we took a taxi at the main railway
station and rode home along the east bank of the Aussenalster.
That we ended that day
by making slow, passionate love in the small double bed in the spare bedroom
goes without saying. Once we closed the front door behind us, I 'verted back to
my usual shape (a blue woman for my blond lady) and stayed in it until we fell
asleep in each other's arms (and after). But before that happened hours later
when I was already drowsy and assumed Val was too, she surprised me and
tapped unsuspected reserves of energy. During that sudden burst of intense
activity, all I had to do was lie back and bask in her love-making. And keep my
voice down so my moans did not keep the neighborhood awake. Then I reciprocated
and she could relax and enjoy it herself. It was a perfect ending to a perfect
day. Sadly, Valerie did not get as many of those as she deserved...
***
Today I am in picturesque Snow Valley,
Massachusetts, sitting with Irene among the other first-year students and their
parents, pretending to listen to the speech Charles Xavier is giving to welcome
everybody for the new term. He does not have much to do with the day-to-day
running of the school, but a lot of the graduates of the former Massachusetts
Academy go on to become students at the Xavier Institute in Salem Center, so of
course he always tries to be there for commencement day ceremonies.
Looking around the auditorium, I see an eclectic
assortment of parents and children, both super-powered and non-powered, some
looking as unusual as Irene with her sky-blue skin, others just run of the
mill. And including at least one genuine alien, Z'rquon Storm, the Human
Torch's adopted son. There he is, sitting next to his fellow senior, Nathan
Summers.
But today all eyes are turned elsewhere, on the
strange entourage of one of the freshers. After all, how often do you get a
chance to see the reclusive monarch of Latveria up close? Doctor Doom has made
a truce for the duration of Valeria Richards' first day at Xavier's and is
sitting to the right of the Invisible Woman, while Valeria and Mister Fantastic
sit to her left. All the while Doom is in the suspicious glare of the Thing
sitting in the row behind them with his son Jonathan Ventura. Victor von Doom
has declared that Valeria whom he helped bring into the world is under his
protection. Guess that means that not even the most 'gifted' of her classmates
will want to risk getting in a fight with this pretty blonde with the ponytail.
Xavier has finished giving his address, now
Emma Frost walks onto the podium to introduce the faculty, which for this term
includes Mr. Shola Inkosi of Gandhi College, Hammer Bay, Genosha and Ms. Jean
Grey from the Xavier Institute in Westchester. It does not have to be stated
overtly what she'll be instructing.
Emma Frost's no-nonsense efficiency is more to my liking than the Professor's
oratory. Classical music is played by the school orchestra, and mercifully
everything is over relatively quickly.
As the assembly breaks up, I get to shake hands
with the people I know, including the expected awkward moment with Xavier. It
is only the second time we have met face to face since... We exchange a few
perfunctory words. He does not look too well, the skin has a slightly unhealthy
shade, there are a lot more wrinkles than the last time I saw him. We both
quickly move on to talk to other people.
In my case that means Havok's brother Cyclops
and his wife; their elder daughter Ruth is one of Irene's classmates. Madelyne
Pryor-Summers is quite flushed with the first-year progress of their little
airline, Summers Breeze, which is mostly her project. Scott and Alex Summers
had sold off the shares in the Anchorage-based freight airline they had
inherited from their grandparents, but last year Scott and Madelyne decided
that their children were now old enough to allow them to start a new one in
upstate New York. Now the initial problems have been overcome in time for the
end of Cyclops' sabbatical. He can now return to the X-Men with an easy mind
and leave the day-to-day running of the company to his spouse.
The Summerses are accompanied by a Japanese
gentleman. "This is Shiro Yoshida," says Cyclops with an ironic smile. "He holds
the record for the shortest active tenure on the X-Men."
Sunfire is not sure how long he will let his
son Eichi stay here. He would prefer to have him educated in Japan, but
grudgingly has to admit that they don't have schools there with as much competence
and experience in helping to develop and use nascent mutant powers. His wife
did not come with him, instead he traveled with his cousin by adoption, Amiko
Yashida, who was returning to Harvard Business School from a vacation in the
old country. I'm not really in a mood for small talk, but it would be worse to
let this opportunity pass by unused to learn something about Irene's classmates
and their parents.
While I am thus occupied, Irene has fun
reconnoitering the Academy grounds and buildings, making acquaintances and I
hope new friends. When I finally see her again, it is already half past
three. Reney is slightly tired, but full of enthusiasm. After she shows me her
room the furry toy Stegosaurus Hope had spontaneously given her at our departure
yesterday has already been deposited on her bed we go out to spend the rest
of the afternoon together until she has to return to the dorm. We find an
ice-cream parlor in the vicinity, where we sit down at a table in the back
(Irene has a fancy chocolate sundae and I a coffee and a cookie). The place is
done up in a 1950s decor with some art dιco touches (Valerie would have asked
the waitress if they are part of the original furnishings or 'retro'
additions.) It seems to be a place often frequented by Xavier students, Irene's
blue skin causes the same kind of non-reaction as it would back home on 30th
Street in Georgetown.
Irene is in a good mood and chatters on about
everything and everyone she saw today. I listen with a smile, secretly
wondering (or is it hoping?) how much she'll start missing me, her sister and
her friends at home once the initial sensory overload has worn off. At last,
not long before suppertime, I drop her off at the gate. Bye, mama! she says
brightly as we exchange pecks on cheeks. Then she turns around and purposefully
walks off towards the buildings. Not for the first time I am struck by how her
way of moving, her build and her hair resemble those of her mother, because
except for the moment when she turns around to wave at me, I don't see her
face. Wonderful. Now I won't just miss Irene when I fly back to Washington,
I'll also feel miserable for being reminded of losing Val! I am torn from my
maudlin thoughts when a woman hails me from behind. It is Jean Grey.
The former Marvel Girl is not exactly a close
acquaintance of mine, even though as Wolverine's wife and a former Meddler she
is a friend of my daughter Rogue. Aside from her temporary teaching job at the
Academy she is also a fellow Xavier parent: Warren Worthington IV, her son from
her first marriage, is beginning his sophomore year. "I bet he hopes this term
is over quick," she says during our first exchange of pleasantries.
As it turns out, she won't have anything to do
with Irene she'll be teaching advanced students how to fine-tune their
telekinesis and telepathy. What my daughter will learn about telepathy or, more
precisely, about the ways of resisting it, will be in a course given by Emma
Frost herself.
Seeing that we both have time on our hands,
Jean invites me to her little teacher's apartment (it belongs to the school,
although it is outside its grounds).
"I'll only be teaching on Wednesdays," she
explains, "so this is handy for staying one or two nights a week. That way
Logan and Mary can stay at home in Salem and I can be with them the rest of the
time."
It comes as a pleasant surprise to me how
comfortable I feel talking with her, much more than with the people I met in
the morning. Maybe our temperaments are more compatible. Of course she is what
some people call easy on the eye. She is in her early forties now, but one
still has no problems seeing why all her male classmates went gaga over her
when she joined Xavier's school. I bet she'll set quite a few of her students'
hearts aflutter this term.
"I see you're impressed by my youthful good
looks," she says with an impish grin. "You have to remember they are in part
due to spending three years in suspended animation at the bottom of Jamaica
Bay."
I reply in the same tone: "While I was lucky enough
that my X-factor gave me the choice to look as good as I want to."
"And most of the time you choose to look like
an overgrown Smurfette?"
It has been a while since I laughed out this
loud in the company of someone who is not family or a close friend like Pyro.
"Some find that look attractive."
"I know, Logan for one." But I swear, if I
didn't already know about Jean Grey's wild streak, I would have deduced it by
now from the dreamy way she looked at me during this exchange.
Is this why she invited me? Does she want to
scope out one of her husband's former sex-partners? (I wouldn't call it lovers.
With so many of them, myself included, it was a primarily sexual affair.)
"Before your time," I remind her. It was sixteen years ago, not long after her
wedding to Angel. At the time I was at loose ends following Irene Adler's
death. "We both needed companionship", I add.
Jean just smiles and moves on to another
subject. As time wears on, our conversation touches all manner of things, and
as the ice is broken, we go beyond the usual small talk of our previous
meetings (mostly at official functions like NATO metapowers conferences or
during the brief breaks between the end of a successful mission and the
departure of our respective teams in different directions). I tell something of
my life with Irene Adler and Val Cooper (or at least give some hints, for my
caution may be diminished, but it has not gone entirely), and she proves a good
listener. For once the fact that she is a relative stranger makes me feel more
at ease, and I tell her more than I expected when I accepted her invitation.
I'm even fairly at ease about her being a telepath. When I mention that, Jean
sighs. "You get a lot of this, don't you," I apologize.
"Me and every other known telepath. And of course
our nearest and dearest, if they're known." Her voice momentarily switches to a
passable parody of a vapid daytime talk show host. "'How do you live with your
wife being able to read your every thought, Mr. Worthington?' Over and over
again!"
"I suppose you telepaths have a more difficult
time than most once you're out of the closet."
"Yes, TP can complicate your life a lot. You
need to learn when not to use it,
which means exerting a lot of self-control, and getting into that habit can
play havoc with your love-life. Love begins as an impulse, so what are you
going to do if you had to condition yourself to resist acting impulsively, to
think before you act instead of going with your feelings?"
"I guess this is why someone like Moondragon
took so long to 'thaw'."
"Well, her case is very extreme. On Titan she
went through a rigorous training that made her one of the most cerebral ever
and suppressed most of her emotions. Except perhaps her feelings of
superiority..."
I grin at that little dig at the occasional
Avenger.
"... but eventually even she found her
soulmate and learned how to reshape
herself and her life to accommodate for love."
"From what I heard about it, her telepathy was
an advantage then, though, helping her and Marlo Jones, as she then was, to get
into the clear about their feelings in a much shorter space of time."
"Oh, it's not that telepathy can't be an
advantage for love. There are some dimensions to being to read your lover's
thoughts and also to show him or her what goes on in your mind that outsiders
just can't comprehend. I wouldn't miss it in the world. But sometimes you can
learn a bit too much about someone in too short a time. And it isn't always
easy to learn that not every unreflected stray thought may mean what you think
it does, or for both partners to be patient with each other and to respect each
other's privacy."
"I think I know what you mean. Emma Frost and
Robert Drake took a very long time to move together."
"Yes, Emma hadn't had anyone to help her to
teach herself about being a telepath. But it's something for which there is no
single solution. It was different for Warren and me than it is for Logan and
me, and it must be different again for Warren and Betsy. All the same, it
probably helped that I had my first relationship before I became a full-blown
telepath. I did not have to learn all about love in one fell swoop."
And Jean begins to speak to me of her romantic
life. She still often thinks about what might have been between her and
Cyclops.
"Scott was my first and I was his first," she
says, "so he'll always be special to me."
I tell her that I had already lost count of my
sexual partners by the time I met Irene and realized how little they had meant
to me.
"I'd say that in the real sense Irene Adler was
your first," she insisted. "I think I felt about Scott the way you felt about
her."
"Maybe not quite. You did not get around to
moving together. Did you shy from a commitment?"
"Believe me, I'd have shacked up with him at
the drop of a hat," she says with a disarming smile. "But it takes two people
to move together, and Scott wouldn't do it. He was raised in an orphanage,
pretty inhibited back then, and he also had that thing about the burden of
command and all that. But if it hadn't been for the Phoenix, I'm convinced I'd
be living happily ever after as Scott's wife. Instead, when I returned, I found
he had found someone else. And at first I didn't know what irked me more about
Maddy that she was so much like me, or that Scott had come to love some parts
of her where she is different."
I start to say something, but she will not be
pitied. I like that.
"Well, Scott wasn't to blame, and neither was
Madelyne. Once they had worked out their difficulties, I could only stand
aside. When they then found out that she is my clone-sister and she had to
learn from scratch how to love him, I was of a little help. And I'm glad they
have a good and happy life together. But still my husbands had to live with my
memories of Scott."
Jean is perhaps overly modest about her part in
the Pryor-Summers reconciliation, if Kurt and Rogue's accounts are anything to
go by, but I let that pass. Instead I ask an obvious question: "Was that the
reason you and Warren Worthington...?"
"No. That marriage was simply a mistake. On
both parts." She leans back to reflect, then continues. "Well, not a total
mistake. We're still parents of our son and we're still good friends. Better
friends than we were before, actually. We care for each other and we talk about
everything when we get together. And of course the sex was great, better than
my first attempts with Scott all those years ago..."
That must be a diversion to avoid giving
detailed reasons why she considers her first marriage a mistake. Not that I'm
complaining what could be more enjoyable to contemplate than Jean Grey having
sex...!
Our conversation goes on for a bit, then Jean
realizes what time it is. She declares it is too late for me to start my
journey south and offers to put me up for the night in her apartment. I tell
her there is no need. I have already reserved a room at a motel, because I want
to surprise Irene after school tomorrow. We continue to talk in her Saab (dark
green, to go with her hair) as she drives me there. Jean Grey, more
demonstrative in her displays of affection, gets out of the car to give me a
hug after we arrive. Not to be outdone, I return the compliment with a kiss. On
the mouth.
It becomes a bit more passionate than I
envisaged, for a few seconds I feel as if I've returned to the old days, when I
lived on the edge and would flaunt the rules of polite society at the drop of a
hat. Besides, Jean Grey is a very sexy woman, and I haven't kissed a girl as if
I meant it for nine long years.
Jean is surprised, but does not resist. Maybe
my impulsive action amuses her. How different from the way Storm reacted to me
flirting with her once in the days of the Brotherhood (anger raging under an
icy surface).
My body rejoices in the charge it gets from the
intimate contact, the long-missed touch of lips upon lips, the soft resilience
of her breasts against mine. And part of my mind feels pleasure at the thought
of the discomfort Jean will possibly feel later when she remembers she is
married (but now the pressure of her embrace grows stronger). And another part
of me feels ashamed because of this. All in all it is a mercy (and not at all
surprising) that we then part without further ado and with as few words as
possible. I think I probably should not have done this, but then I catch her
winking at me.
After I've taken my shower, I feel more alive
than I have in a long time. It takes hours until I fall asleep.
***
She said she was sorry
Irene Adler had been killed. Was there anything she could do for me? Did I want
her to accompany me to the cremation?
I snapped at her: The
last thing I need is your pitiful sympathy, Dr. Cooper. Irene died on a mission
ordered by your bureaucracy, you've done enough.
Valerie said a little
more in the caring vein something about understanding what Irene had meant to
me and giving me enough leave to grieve for her and bring our affairs in order.
But I wasn't in a mood to listen and stomped out of the room. Then, after Val
had slunk out of the house, I threw myself on Irene's bed feeling more
miserable and more lonely than ever before in my life.
"That must have been
the first time she genuinely reached out to you."
I turn around, and
there stands the first great love of my life as I will always remember her from
our first meeting the almost fragile figure, the dark hair, the elegant black
costume with the bolero jacket, the overcoat, the pillbox hat. Hello Irene, I
say, but a part of me wants me to look away. She's nothing but a wishful
fantasy, it insists, don't waste your time on her!
For a moment I
consider telling Destiny to bugger off, but instead I say: Yes, it may well
have been. It was the first time that she did and that I'd notice, even if it
took me a while to register. But so shortly after your death (and that came
before I had a chance to get over Rogue's apparent death in Dallas), all I
desired to do was to curl up and die, or failing that, cry for the ones I had
lost and generally feel sorry for myself. I was not too far gone to notice the
changes Val had gone through by that point. Compared to the mutiphobia she had
spouted off when I first met her and her healthy distrust of me during the time
when we first set up Freedom Force, she seemed to be quite concerned about me
emotionally as a person. Wonder what would have happened if you had foreseen
that I would end up with her and not with Forge...
"We've been through
this when I was alive, Raven," Irene Adler says with her characteristic and
well-remembered patience. "Some prophecies foretell what will happen in any
case, others are told to shape the future. The ancient Greeks preferred the
kind that came to pass because people tried to forestall their fulfillment, but
one should not discount the possibility that someone foretells one thing
precisely because he or she wants another thing to happen..."
Yes, yes, yes, that
would explain why you got it wrong about me and Forge (thankfully!), but you
still won't tell me if you foresaw what would happen between me and Valerie,
right?
Through the mists of
my dream it seems that a brief smile appears on her silent lips. My mind races
back to the first time I felt something like a tender emotion for Valerie. It
was not long after your death, Irene, when Valerie became a thrall of the
Shadow King, who sent her out to kill me. As you foretold in one of your
letters to me, that order went so much against her grain that she managed to
throw off his control long enough to turn the gun against herself. Because of
your letter that came as no surprise, but it impressed me.
"You were angry at me
when I gave my life for you, yet when she tried to do the same..."
That kind of cattiness
does not suit you, try to act more like yourself. Or more in accordance with
how people are supposed to behave in the hereafter. Besides, the situation was
different, Valerie did what she did not out of affection for me. She would have
done the same if she had been told to kill a complete stranger. She just could
not kill someone she did not consider deserving of death, and it also was the
only way she could think of of permanently ridding herself of Farouk's hold on
her. That she saved my life was almost just a side-effect. But it wasn't just
her actions that day that left such an impression on me, although I would in
later years always be reminded of it when my hands ran over Valerie's scalp.
There was also the immediate aftermath.
The bullet had only
grazed Val's skull and left her unconscious. While she lay in an artificially
sustained coma, Nick Fury and I decided that we would pretend that the
assassination attempt had succeeded and I would infiltrate the Shadow King's
operation in Val's shape. To feed the media statements to the desired effect
was easy enough. To fool a super-telepath like Amahl Farouk up close was a
different prosition requiring special efforts. In the short time we had,
SHIELD's experts pumped me full of all the information on Valerie that they
could lay their fingers on.
"Lucky for you that
you already knew so much from rifling through her personal files whenever you
had the chance before."
Yes, it paid off that
I always try to be prepared. They also implanted a post-hypnotic conditioning
that made me believe I actually was Valerie Cooper so that my thoughts would
not betray me. And, since we knew a bit about Farouk's MO and his delight in
having others suffer while he gorged his fleshly appetites until his host body
was worn out, we could not exclude the possibility that he had already violated
Valerie in the flesh when he forced her
under his will. We therefore had to make sure that I got her body right down to
the smallest detail. So they left me alone with her to look her over for
distinctive moles and scars, to prod about her usually inaccessible parts so I
could properly remodel mine accordingly. I was really relieved that I could not
find any major recent scars on her (apart from the self-inflicted one
underneath the bandages wrapping her head). There was a fairly big cut on her
left calf, but that had healed so well that most people would only notice it at
second glance, a childhood scar in fact. But it was a surprisingly unpleasant
experience I've never been the most respectful person about other people's
privacy, but right then I felt a little queasy. At the same time I could not
help being startled at her expression. She looked almost satisfied with her
personal little victory over the Shadow King, as if she knew that she had
punched a chink in his armor that I now could exploit to help bring him down.
Irene has listened
attentively all the time, now she smiles again, a wistful little smile at yet
another temporary victory over the living ghost responsible for her own death.
I continue.
But perhaps the thing
I remembered most, because it came out so strong even under those queasy
circumstances and clinical surroundings, was the constant thought: How pretty
she looks. Valerie did not possess the statuesque grace of someone like Emma
Frost, the natural perfection of a Jean Grey or the overblown voluptuousness of
an Elizabeth Braddock. When I first saw you at Old Trafford station I was
immediately struck by your looks, but with Val it took me all these years until
I was with her in that dreadful silent intensive care unit before I began to
notice her more subtle beauty. Maybe it was her defenselessness, not so much
that I saw her naked than that for the first time I looked at her properly
without the sharp dress and hard-nosed attitude. And without looking for
confirmation for my preconceived notions about her.
***
The evening's good feelings carry over to the
next day, I notice how heartily I dig into the nondescript breakfast. (By the
look of things the landlady thinks that her guests come for the ambiance of a
genuine Continental style house, not for fancy cookery).
At the school, Irene does not give any
indication that she is surprised to see me when I show up unannounced during
recess. She is however glad to see me and introduces me to some of her
classmates, in particular to her roommate, Candida Mayhew.
A few years ago the mutant students of the
School for Gifted Youngsters generally stuck to themselves, but that has
changed as the superpowered became more accepted in some parts of the world and
after Charles Xavier rethought the best ways of achieving his 'dream'. Candida
does not have any powers, she is what certain mutant supremacists would call a
Homo inferior or a flatscan (not in Val's hearing of course, when she still was
alive). She is however 'gifted' in other ways, a straight-A student who won a
Eudora Frost scholarship (instituted by a bequest of Emma's great-grandfather).
So academically she and Irene should fit together well. They also appear to get
on well enough on a personal level, at least as far as I can judge at this
early stage.
Candida does not like being called 'Candy', she
prefers 'Canny' or 'Cands'. She looks the English Rose type, and it turns out
that her father was born in England. At her age, she is still a bit gangly, not
unlike Irene herself. At first there are some bad vibrations on my part, until
I realize that it's an irrational reaction to her voice its pitch and the
Boston accent remind me of my former enemy Carol Danvers and after overcoming
that I find her quite likeable, as far as one can tell from first impressions.
Later, when we spend a little time together
alone, I mention in passing to Irene that her mother probably would have
approved of Candida as her roommate.
Irene nods with a sad smile even though she and Hope sometimes think I obsess
about Val they miss her too.
All in all Irene appears to be content with her
new school, despite the separation from her family and old schoolmates. So far,
although her looks have caused a lot of people to stare at her, there have been
no real problems. She thinks she is making friends both among the 'normos' and
the powered students, but she is also bubbling over with how well she acquitted
herself in the first morning training session today. I feel compelled to warn
her not to become cocky, especially when they start having sessions with the
older students in a few weeks. When we finally part, Irene winks and asks me if
I'll really be going back to Washington this time.
Don't fret, you'll be rid of your old Mama soon
enough, I say somewhat ungraciously and immediately regret it. Luckily Irene
takes it in good humor. Still, I feel compelled to ask: "Do you think I fuss
too much over you and Hope ever since Mommy is gone?" Sometimes I worry if I am
trying too hard.
"You're doing fine, Mama," she replies loyally,
and her hug makes me feel a little better.
"Next time I visit I'll try to let you know
beforehand," I promise.
"Please do. Hope you'll have as much fun then
as you did this time. Uncle Sinjin should be glad." Well, Pyro does keep
telling me I should go out more...
I sigh ironically but don't comment, just kiss
Irene and say good-bye, and then she quickly rejoins her fellow students.
Still, I sigh a little when she is out of sight and hearing.
As I start to leave the building, whom do I see
but Jean Grey. She motions me into an empty class-room. Finally decided to tell
me off for my freshness yesterday, I think. But instead she gives me a
coquettish look and asks: "Don't I get another kiss today?"
Well, you asked for this, Jean. I put my lips
to hers, but to my surprise she takes the initiative away from me, encircles me
in her arms, bends me backwards. When she breaks the kiss, she titters at the
way she turned the tables on me. The look in her eyes says it all: You thought
it was fun to play with fire, but what are you going to do when I call your
bluff?
***
When we arrived at Jean's apartment, we did not
make it into the bedroom, we stripped down immediately and did it among the
scattered clothes on the carpet. I only inisted on one rule, that she did not
use her telepathy, and for that she got to call the shots. After she had given
lesbian sex a thorough try, she had me shift into male mode for the rest of the
session, for which we finally adjourned to her bed.
It is one of the advantages and drawbacks of my
power that I can be all things to my sexual partners. It can be gratifying in
the short run, but often made me wonder whether they liked me or the fantasies
that I could make real for them. I remember that I even was a little insecure
about shifting into my real body (or, if that word should not be used, my
default body) when Valerie and I first really made love.
In a way I was glad to assume different shapes
that afternoon, it helped me to put a little distance between my inner self and
the woman who rolled on the floor with Jean Grey, to convince me that what we
both wanted was just sex and not a sticky emotional attachment. The act itself
was like an explosion. Pent-up urges at last found their release with such
force that my knees buckled and there were times when my entire body shook.
Jean could not help remarking: "Wow, I thought you really needed a good lay,
but this is ridiculous."
Part of me had at first resisted against
jumping into bed with Jean, but after we had done the deed the question most on
my mind was how on Earth I had managed to stay celibate all those years. Was it
because I had wanted to show Val I could do without sexual partners? After all,
when she still was in Rogue's body, she kept hinting not so subtly that I
should go out and look for a new bedmate. In the weeks that followed, I could
not help thinking that she was finally getting what she had said she wanted.
But what was Jean's reason to have that
one-afternoon stand with me? I know Logan, I've experienced first hand the
effect of his self-healing factor on his endurance and recuperative powers. It
is hard to imagine that Jean would seek me out because she felt unsatisfied,
even if there are things I can do for her that Logan cannot. I was a bit taller
than him when I slept with Jean as a male, but so are about nine men out of ten
(and almost four women out of five). Was the thrill of the illicit the kick
craved? Did she need a change? Did the stress of life as a costumed heroine
become too much (just now a young teammate of hers, Synch, is close to
finalizing his divorce)? Or is she going through her mid-life crisis and needed
to show to herself that she still had what it took to seduce a stranger?
Whatever her reasons were, I didn't complain. I
expected Wolverine would find out about his wife's infidelity soon enough, his
enhanced senses would probably ensure that even if she succeeded in concealing
it whenever she went into a mind-link with him. I tried to sound her out on the
subject afterwards, but she told me not to concern myself about it. Well, Jean
is a grown woman, she should know what she is doing. In one way we had done it under
his eyes, for unlike the typical movie adulterer she had not bothered to turn
around her spouse's framed photograph or hide it in a drawer. On my flight home
that struck me as oddly reassuring.
I expected the affair to end there and then,
with no emotional residue. On the flight back to Washington I even hummed to
myself and when Pyro picked me up, he immediately noticed the change. "You had
a bit of rough," he blurted out as I walked up to him.
"Your insight serves you well, young
Allerdyce," I said, and asked him not to gossip to the others.
There was no need, St. John is the soul of
discretion. (Funny how I fell into using a Star Wars quote at that moment, that
was Val's obsession, not mine.) I did not tell him who had been my partner, and
he did not pry, even though he said he was glad that I was behaving more
'normal' again and made a few jokes about it as he drove us back into town.
I slept wonderfully that night.
***
"Ta-dah!" Valerie sings out unlocking the
door to her room. "Impressed, Harry?"
I grin in mock
admiration. Actually it is not really different from the other single rooms in
the hotel. Wooden walls made of outsized Lincoln Logs to evoke the 'frontier
charm' that Benjamin Horne (the owner) found appropriate to this Nothing Gulch
in the northeast corner of Washington State. But like the man himself, they
appear too smooth to ring true, sanded down and varnished so that no visiting
conventioneer or affluent city-dweller has to worry about ending up with a
splinter in his finger or risk being offended by the smells you normally get in
real log-cabins. Above the queen-size bed is a framed picture of an owl in
flight (could it be a Spotted one?).
"Can I use the
bathroom?" I ask.
She nods and points to
the door. "Should have gone when we still were in the restaurant."
I chuckle and leave.
Ah, the unsung joys of using a male body! Afterwards I take care to leave the
seat up so as not to disappoint expectations. I take advantage of the occasion
to freshen up at the hand-basin, looking myself over in the mirror. Sheriff
Truman, whose shape I have borrowed, does possess a charm that many would
describe as 'rugged'. I can understand why Valerie felt drawn to his athletic
body, tanned skin and curly dark hair. I noticed how she made eyes at him
whenever there was a quiet moment during this extended emergency, even if he
apparently did not. But tonight an opportunity presented itself (he left for
the hospital without taking his leave) and I seized it with both hands, asking
Val out to dinner as Harry. And succeeded almost beyond expectation. Maybe my
behavior is crazy, but frankly I don't give a damn. I deserve some fun too.
When I return to the
bedroom, Valerie walks up to meet me and kisses me on the mouth. My, you're not
one to waste time or words, I say as we break apart.
"Why, do you want me
to?" she replies with a sweet giggle. "I thought you were the strong, tall and
silent, not the good listener type."
I smile and take her
in my arms. The preliminaries of this encounter have been dealt with before we
came to this room. We kiss again, longer and more intensely this time. Feeling
the softness of her lips against mine and the that of her breasts against 'my'
manly chest causes a momentary pang of regret that I chose to seduce her in the
shape of a man. Seduce her? Well, to some extent she has seduced me. Not just
because I walked into her charm offensive intended for Sheriff Harry, but
because her whole personality is engaging today. I don't think we've ever been
so relaxed with each other before, the big battle is over and we both are
lonely people in search of release.
Even while we are
kissing, Valerie unbuttons the checked lumberjack shirt I'm wearing and helps
me get out of it. It is soon joined on the floor at the foot of her bed by her
yellow turtle-necked dress. Her underwear is pink. She leaves me the pleasure
of opening her satiny bra and taking it off, while slipping off her panty
herself (are we a wee bit impatient?).
It is good we both
opted for the silent approach, I could not give voice to the thoughts that rush
in on me after I've bared her body without giving away the game. It can hardly
say: I love your breasts, they look so much better than I remember them! (And
indeed, their skin is in the pink of health and maybe the flush of expectation,
while back then its unhealthy pallor was underscored by the bright artificial
lighting of the ICU). Or even: How I would like to squash my breasts against
yours, if only I could return to a female body!
But instead I bow
forward towards her bosom so that my breath blows over the powder-pink tips,
causing her nipples to rise almost imperceptively from the crinkling rings
around them. Val's growing excitation is evident from her body's state of
perpetual motion, which helps to exorcise the memory of her corpse-like
stillness in the hospital. Don't know when it was the last time you had sex,
but by that evidence it seems to have been quite a while. Well, I'll gladly
help you catch up, your pleasure shall be my pleasure. (Did I say that back
then or did I merely think that?)
I have no idea what
Truman is like in bed and I don't care a fig. I sink down between her thighs.
My mood is tender tonight and so I make love to Val gently. Is she surprised
that I appear unmindful of my own immediate gratification? She appreciates it
at any rate, stroking my locks a little clumsily with her left hand while
hyperactively squeezing her breasts and twiddling her nipples with the right.
(Oh, you could have much longer hair to play with!) With my head in its current
location I can't see much, but I hear her breathing getting heavier and more
ragged as time passes in slow motion. She mumbles encouragements as my
uncomfortably big hands almost furtively rove up her body. The strong muscles
of her stomach rhythmically grow hard and relax as her inexorable orgasm
builds, then I'm past the lower ribs and arrive at her breasts. My fingers dig
into the soft, resilient flesh and for a couple of moments Val's hands settle
on mine to push them harder against herself. Then they are gone, to reappear on
the back of my head when she approaches her first climax.
"Wow," she says when
this stage is finally over after what seems like hours, "you are good at this.
And not many men would have the patience..."
"Maybe I'm a man like
no other."
"Let's not indulge in
delusions of grandeur." She playfully slaps my cheek. "But it's high time
for Little Harry to get his reward. Just lay back and relax..."
With that she turns
her attentions to 'my' semi-flaccid member. Oh, the wet heat of her mouth, the
squishy depths of her cleavage, the incessant activity of her slender fingers
and agile tongue, the gentle hardness of her teeth! When she senses that I have
trouble holding back she stops and reaches for the packet of condoms she
providentially put on the bedside table. She unwraps one and efficiently slips
it on 'Little Harry'. And then, at last, she climbs on top of me.
We are both strangely
at ease in the moment of union. "You like being on top, Valerie?"
"It's an image thing."
She grins playfully. "Everyone likes to call me bossy. But look at the up side
you don't have to work so hard."
Gradually, gently, and
once again silently she settles down. I slide deeper and deeper into her hot
and moist interior. Slowly she begins to move, taking great care not to rush
me. I don't remain passive for long, though. Soon our hips move against each
other in a common rhythm. My arms go up to grip and hold her, and she takes
advantage of the lift to reach down and pinch my nipples into hard erection. I
grit my teeth as I struggle to hold back, and together we manage to delay our
orgasm for a surprisingly long time, but finally we come loudly in a sweaty
climax.
And it does not end
there...
Afterwards Valerie is
in a talkative mood. We lie together under the blanket, spent, her head resting
on my shoulder, and take stock on the events of the past few days. To my
surprise, she eventually starts to talk about me.
"God, I wish I could
have had a word with Mystique earlier today, too bad she disappeared so early.
I suppose she wanted to be alone." She sighed. "It must be hard for her, coming
up against the Shadow King again so soon. He probably was responsible for her
life-partner's death, you know."
"But you defeated
him," I perform my part as the sheriff, "he's gone now."
"So it would seem. The
'fireworks' certainly were impressive enough. But I bet Raven Darkh"lme is
convinced he'll be back sooner or later." There you guess correctly, I'm
afraid.
And what do you think?
"I fear she may be
right. I've been up against him before, for a time he turned me into his
slave... I have some idea of what he can do. How do you kill an astral entity
anyway? We succeeded in weakening and expelling him from my brother, but I'm
not too optimistic we've seen the last of him... A pity Raven sticks to herself
off-duty. I understand her grief and her anger, but she shouldn't shut herself
off and let them eat into her like that. It's not good for her. If she doesn't
want to let me or anyone from the team help her, maybe she should at least talk
to her daughter more often. She hasn't seen her once except in the course of
missions since we press-ganged her into X-Factor..."
Here she inadvertently
puts her finger on a sore point. Why do I not get together with Rogue? Am I still
angry at her for leaving me to join the X-Men, for going to her death with
them? I could do something about it, and I really should. After all, she is the
most important living person in my world now. (Along with Kurt, but he still
hasn't sussed out he's my son).
"Did you tell her
that?" I venture.
"Ha!" Val snorts, "I needn't bother. She'd hurl that kind of advice right back
in my face."
"Who knows, maybe
she'd surprise you. You can't always predict what people..."
"I suppose trying
can't make her hate me more than she already does." But her derision does not
completely drown out the undertone of regret.
"But you no longer
hated her, did you? You were already beginning to fall in love with her that
night..."
You again, Irene.
Can't a woman dream in peace?
"Be grateful I waited
until after you had your fun with Valerie." The room, Val, my male shape all
dissolve and in the end only Irene and Mystique are left, hovering in a milky
white fog.
Now that you mention
it, Irene, your timing is impeccable. What followed wasn't all light and
sunshine. Seeing that in her way she cared for me made me feel uncomfortable.
Though we had our fun that night, and I think the sex did a world of good and
helped us both to get over the uneasy forebodings about the Shadow King, I
realized I was no longer unconcerned about being found out. That put a damper
on things and I left rather hurriedly early the next morning.
"But it all worked out
for the best..."
After she did find
out, it took a bit of time and groveling until she forgave me the hurt she felt
because of the way I had sneaked into her pants. We did not speak of that night
all that often later. For us our real first time was during the night six weeks
later, when we laid to rest our misunderstandings, when she told me she had
come to love me and made me see that I had fallen in love with her.
"However I can tell
that you still have quite fond memories of that hotel."
Yes, that was a guilty
little pleasure. As time wore on even Valerie felt safe enough to make jokes
about it occasionally. She accepted I meant no harm. Well, as you said, it
worked out for the best. If you were real, I suppose you'd be content. You said
you wanted me to be happy with someone else after you died.
Irene just smiles
indulgently, but then her expression changes.
Is there something the
matter?
"Well, if you must
know... Raven, I have been seeing quite a bit of you since I died, and
sometimes I wonder... you dream about Valerie a lot, but..."
I'm dreaming of you
now.
"That's different."
Irene, surely you're
not jealous of Valerie at this time of life, I mean: death? You know I'll love
you until I die!
"In a depressingly
Platonic way most of the time," she says dejectedly. She may be right. I
tend to think of her as she was in the final years of her life, slender,
graceful, but not as young as she used to be (aged perhaps more by what she had
experienced than mere years) and a little too frail to be the focus of wild
sexual fantasies. On the other hand, here in this dream she is young again, I
just was too preoccupied...
"Maybe, my dear, it is
not too late to remedy things," I say and move in. It becomes a good kiss, and
as I hold her tighter against me I feel her joyful excitement. And, fresh as it
once was, my own growing arousal. It is incredible, my libido has returned with
a vengeance, could it be because of that afternoon with Jean? But for now my
first love and I let our imagined bodies do most of the talking, although Irene
has another thought for me:
"Things should really
get interesting if you should ever make it to heaven and eventually be reunited
with Valerie and me..."
***
The weeks that followed were fairly normal.
Pulling myself together, I appeared as accustomed to the other X-Factorites.
The usual regime of training sessions, alarm drills, shifts on monitor duty
interrupted by the occasional real emergency and subsequent debriefings. Off
duty there was time to look through Hope's homework and generally annoy my
youngest daughter. My undivided attention became a reason for her to regret her
sister Irene's departure for Massachusetts, although that also had a welcome
side-effect for her: Hope is now the oldest of the four X-Factor children in
Georgetown. Mike Madrox is about a year younger than she, then comes Guido
Carosella's daughter Pru Cheney, and finally Chris Summers, Jr. Of course in
Hope's own estimation the age difference becomes even greater, she sees herself
as almost a grownup and her school and play-mates as young boys and girls. (As
her parent I may be prejudiced, but I do think she is actually quite mature for
her age, in part due to what she has gone through.) But in spite of this she
gets on well enough with her fellow X-Factor babies. But her closest friends
are two of her classmates, Greer Wilson (whose parents are both doctors) and
Ramon Alvarez, the son of a correspondent from a Filipino TV channel. As I
could tell when I took the three plus Pru and Mike to a cinema around that
time.
Hope noticed that I was cheerier after my
return from the Bay State, but she and Pyro were the only ones. Of course it
helped that X-Factor does not have a telepath on its roster.
I thought the affair was over, but then last
Tuesday there came a phone call from Jean Grey. I had not expected her to call,
and certainly not this soon, and if she called, I expected her to tell me that
we should not ever see each other again. Instead, after a slightly awkward
exchange of initial pleasantries, she abruptly asked me: "How would you like to
come on a dirty weekend with me come Friday?"
I was so amazed that after a little while Jean
asked: "Helloooo? You still there?"
Now the sex with Jean had been highly enjoyable
and I also felt good about our long conversation the day before, but a reunion
after such a short interval was not what I had envisaged.
In the end, I accepted the invitation despite
my misgivings about reviving what I had wanted to write off as a once-off
affair. I wasn't scared of being with Jean again, right? So we both came to
this little New Hampshire town yesterday evening. It was so late that we didn't
even have dinner together, we just went to our hotel room and immediately to
bed.
Whilst it was not as exciting as the first time
what chance was there to revive the spontaneity of that afternoon and the
dizzy anticipation raised by years of sexual self-denial? it was very
satisfying as a purely physical experience. Telepathy was still a no-go area,
but Jean did make greater use of her telekinetic abilities and we went through
a lot of variations until we fell asleep exhausted.
In spite of those exertions, I wake up early
this morning. I rise and go to the bathroom for my ablutions. At my return she
is still lying in bed, but I can tell she is awake, so I say: Rise and shine,
my dear.
She slowly opens her eyes and the way her
bright green irises emerge between her lids puts me in mind of a sunrise.
"Morning Raven," she says dreamily. She takes
in my naked body as I begin to dress for breakfast and the corners of her eyes
crinkle prettily as she smiles. "Did you sleep all right?"
"Oh yes, fell asleep as soon as my head hit my
pillow. Good thing we only used the blanket before that," I add, distracted by
what I see.
Jean turns from the side to her back and throws
back the blanket. Her massive breasts lazily wobble into a different shape
according to their new position. The pale white skin gleams in the morning sun
as she stretches and yawns. She sinks back into her pillow and, noticing that
my eyes are fixed to her bosom, gives me another puckish smile. I keep on
staring.
"Glad you came here, are you?" she says. I feel
my own smile broadening foolishly. Then I'm finished dressing and I sit down to
watch her as she prepares for the day. Then we go outside.
The town center is a New England clichι neat
little streets, a plaque commemorating a local hero of '76 on the house next
door, a memorial to the fallen of 'the War of the Rebellion' (Rogue would love
this) before the white-steepled church, and brightly-colored leaves on the
trees in and around the town. When I recall my younger days back in Europe I
cannot seem to recall half the variety of shades of red and orange.
Over breakfast (we take it in a side-street
delicatessen) I finally begin to ask her the questions that have been on my
mind for weeks: "Why are you doing this? And why with me?"
"Oh dear, it's not like me at all, is it?" Jean
frowns and rests her chin in her right hand, but her inflection is ironic. She
looks me in the eye.
"It's not what I expected from you," I admit
after a pause, but I only knew you from a distance. All this surprised me, and
when I consider how you talk about Logan, I'm even more unsure why you cheat on
him.
"I'm
faithful to Logan in my fashion." It makes me a little uncomfortable that she
answers telepathically, but I understand that she does not want anyone else in
the deli to overhear what she now divulges. "Or perhaps it would be more
precise to say: in his fashion."
The coin drops. "So you lead..."
"...an open kind of marriage," she completes my
spoken sentence. "You can 'talk' to me in your mind without me prying in your
inner thoughts, by the way. Telepathic communication at the surface level can
even work if it is impossible to read a person's mind. That's what happened
with Rogue when even the Professor couldn't breach the interference from the
two personalities she had absorbed from Ms. Marvel."
I relax a little and sip on my second cup of
coffee.
Jean leans back on her bench scratching her
chin. "It's not what I expected to happen, but Logan can't help being who he
is. Maybe things would have turned out differently with someone else. Sometimes
I dreamed that if the Phoenix hadn't taken my place, Scott and I would have married and stuck it out
without looking at other women and men until the end of our days. But Logan is
not Scott. His urges are more powerful, he can't help reacting to a pretty
face, and for a telepath that can become pretty hard. Mind you, I'm glad we
have the link, it lets me know how truly he loves me, that his lust for a sexy
woman or lingering affection for an old girlfriend simply can't compare. But
that doesn't alter the fact that he has feelings that are not what I was taught
to see as proper in a good husband."
"And Logan has had plenty of girlfriends," I
think in Jean's direction.
"You don't know half of it," comes her reply.
Deep down in my inner self I think: I know more
than you think. There is no visible reaction, so I'll assume my psychic shields
are functioning and strong enough not to let out clues for Jean's telepathy to
catch.
"The problem is not that Logan has such a
colorful past, but that you never can predict when it will come next to haunt
him and us. They did such a hatchet job on his memories before he was picked up
by Department H that even he can be surprised when a former lover shows up with
a kid in tow."
I could tell you stories, Jean, but it is
probably kinder that I shut up.
"I sometimes have nightmares about a woman
appearing at our doorstep to take him away from me because he was still her
husband. And there's no way I or Logan can be sure that there isn't a wife
somewhere in the world still waiting for him."
"Well, one can assume that after something like
three decades she'll have given up," I 'say' encouragingly, which makes her
laugh out softly.
"In any case, there were problems both because
of the old girlfriends and the young women after whom he lusted. Logan sensed
how I felt and tried to change, but that just led to more frictions because
his... body resisted and without realizing it he began to resent me. His strong
will, his willfulness, if you like, is part of what makes him who he is, it's
also what helps him to overcome enemies who at first glance outmatch him. The
situation improved when I became pregnant and had Mary, but then it became
worse again and we had to face up to the problem. It became too much of a
strain for him, he was getting desperate (if not for his healing factor, our
sex life would have become very boring indeed). In the end I said I'd just have
to learn to accept that I might not be able to fulfill all his sexual cravings
and that he occasionally sought relief with other partners. So far it worked
out well. It's not an ideal situation, but preferable to the alternative."
"I see, my friend, but now you're seeking
relief from him. So you decided that what's sauce for the gander should also be
sauce for the goose? In your generation it is no longer expected that a wife
should overlook her husband's indiscretions..."
"No, definitely not. That would have been
unbearable. We made it clear from the start that if he was free to have other
partners so was I. It was only fair... Actually, at first was confident that it
would be a bit one-sided and I looked forward to being rather smug around
Logan. But then in the space of a few years my age began to tell. I passed my
40th birthday, a few hairs began to emulate my family name, and, well, suddenly
I found the next generation was taking over the X-Men. My big sister's children
are now my teammates, and my little sister's eldest is thinking of joining your
team."
I nod, Nathan Summers, code-named Myrmidon,
already visited our HQ to discuss the details. "Havok is looking forward to
having his nephew with us."
"So I began to feel old, especially because
Logan's healing factor keeps him from aging. Then there came a time when he had
to go to Madripoor to sort out something with his pal Tyger Tiger which made me
feel lonely as well, and so I went out and seduced me a sexy young man to prove
to myself I still had what it takes."
I'd love to know details, but Jean laughs off
my Mrs. Robinson jokes and says a lady does not kiss and tell, even if the
affair was primarily sexual. All she will say is that she does not think that
she was the first woman he had sex with, that she enjoyed their one-nighter but
has no intention of another encounter with him.
"But you felt like a repeat performance with
me," I reply, "I'm flattered."
She giggles daintily.
"I once was in a similar situation to yours,
but from the other side," I continue on a different tack. "My metamorphic
'talent' keeps me young even though I am old enough to be your grandmother.
When I lived with Irene Adler she grew old beside me, and there finally came a
time when the physical aspects of our love fulfilled my appetites to a lesser
extent than they had before mostly because Irene felt less need for sex and
there was less of it. She told me she did not mind if I looked for sexual
gratification elsewhere women of her generation were still expected to suffer
patiently like Katherine Hepburn's mother in The Philadelphia Story. But it didn't work for me, after a brief
fling or two I simply had to stop. I would flirt around a bit after that, but
no more. I didn't play the field for real again until after she was killed.
Maybe it would have been different if she and I had been able to link minds, I
don't know."
"Thanks for reminding me that it's going to
become worse."
"I'm sure you'll manage. If worst comes to
worst, you can always telepathically make him believe you look as you did twenty
years ago." Jean chuckles at this attempt at levity and the awkward moment
passes. I'm not sure it was a good idea to drop all this onto her, but I am
glad she will listen. "Valerie did not grow old enough for it to become a
problem. She ... was more passionate than Irene anyway, I think her libido
would have held out a lot longer. It might have become a lot more difficult
with her. She'd have wanted to have my guts for garters if I had looked at
other people... When she was in Rogue's body and there was no question of us
making love, then she talked bravely about me having to look for someone new,
but even then she sometimes could not hide that this thought did not come easy
to her at all."
"Proud of that, aren't you?" her psychic voice
whispers. "Methinks I'm beginning to understand you a little better. Beneath
that cynical exterior you're a bit of a romantic."
"Nonsense," I snort, "I'm nothing if not a
realist."
"So you say, but when I listen to you I think
you deeply believe that love is for keeps and a commitment should last until
death. Maybe even beyond the grave, I mean, when we have a little conversation
you'll bring Irene Adler or Valerie Cooper into it before five minutes are
out..."
"You could say that I definitely loved Valerie
after she died," I grudgingly admit, "but love beyond the grave has an
over-inflated reputation." What I keep to myself is the disappointment that
haunts me on some sleepless nights that in the end Valerie sacrificed herself
for Heloise without... what? What did I expect her to do? Maybe to take longer
to decide to do what she did, to write me a more tearful farewell note? I know
Val, I knew Val and her sense of what
is right and what is wrong (so much stricter than my own, more pragmatic
ethics). I can't even say she could have come to a different course of action
without becoming untrue to the woman she was. More's the pity. All that I hide
in the nooks and crannies of my mind and instead ask Jean again: Why did you
choose me to have an affair with, and why do you want to continue it? When we
first went to bed together I thought it had something to do with me and Logan
having slept with each other before he married you, but now I'm not so sure.
"It is something I can't help remembering when
we meet," Jean admitted. "But I never felt the irrepressible urge to knock
boots with every girlfriend Logan ever had, if that's what you're driving at."
She cheekily sticks out her tongue at me.
"Ah, so it's just me who's irresistible."
"In your dreams, my dear. No, I don't think it
was just because I know about your past with Logan, although that was one of
the things that first got me interested in you. And it wasn't about having sex
with a woman either. I knew all about that... well enough at any rate... I'm
afraid I was a bit naughty when I rediscovered my telepathy." Saints above,
she's blushing!
"Using your powers for selfish ends," I think
out 'loudly', "what would Professor Xavier say?"
"Well, I just 'listened' in on a few couples in
the vicinity, I didn't make anyone do anything. I'm pretty sure." And Jean
gives me a brief flash of some of her fears, of what she might do
subconsciously, of what might happen if the terrors that lurk in the depths of
her mind should rise to the surface, how she wonders how much of herself was in
the original Phoenix when that nearly omnipotent being was corrupted. Maybe
that is one of the factors that drew Jean and Logan together they both have
reasons to fear what they can become. But she returns to lighter matters: "Not
that having sex with you didn't turn out to be a revelation..."
Nice of you to say so, I smirk. In our two
get-togethers so far, Jean seemed intent on trying out everything in as short a
time as possible, she had me as a man, a woman, and, to cap it off last night,
'half-and-half', as she so quaintly put it, when 'upstairs' our boobs were
mashed together while 'downstairs' my temporary masculinity was buried deep
inside her with a little telekinetic push to my backside. But I prefer it this
way, primarily sexual.
"...but what also helped was that you and I
don't really have a common history before this happened," she explains. "I was
fascinated by you, and there was neither an old enmity between us that could
get in the way, nor an old friendship to put at risk. So I felt a lot more
comfortable about giving in to your advances."
For the rest of our stay together, we do not
trouble ourselves with this serious kind of talk. We spend a leisurely weekend,
then comes Sunday evening and the time to part. And without warning there is
Wolverine standing on the other side of the street before our hotel, leaning on
his motorcycle and lighting one of his cheap cigars in the characteristic
fashion.
Jean is unperturbed: "Ah, there's my ride."
Well, she did not exaggerate about them leading
an open marriage, even though we must reek of sex he is quite nonchalant when
Jean 'introduces' us with a saucy "You two know each other, at least in the
biblical sense."
That's not a pang of jealousy I feel when the
two embrace in a long kiss? Surely not. I'm not in love with her, Jean and I
came here to satisfy a more primitive need. She said this is what she wants,
and it seems to work for her. I see again what a sexy beast he is. There
certainly is something both erotic and feral about the way he inhales his mate's
scent. Are you putting on a show for me?
As they break apart, back goes the burning
cigar to his mouth. He notices my gaze and looks at me with a big grin, almost
as if he is applauding his wife's choice of extracurricular bedmate. But there
is something else about his expression that puts me in mind of our wild night
together all those years ago.
The emotions that causes in me leave me
off-balance to some extent, so Jean's ensuing question catches me flat-footed:
"Would you mind terribly if I show Logan my memories of what we did in bed?"
I have to take a big gulp of air before I
croak: "If you think it's a good idea." But in my mind I almost scream out:
Don't you dare tell him of our breakfast conversation yesterday! She
understands.
What is Jean's game? Why didn't she tell me
that he would come here? But I regain my composure quickly enough. After all,
it only comes down to facing up in person to a reality that I already knew is
accepted by the three persons concerned. Did Jean intend this as a kind of
gambit, an indication of things to come? Now that I come to think of it, that
would open the door to all kinds of interesting developments.
Back home in Georgetown I have a little time to
clear the decks before Rogue brings Hope back from Snug Valley in the
Alleghenies (or Alligator Mountains, as Hope used to pronounce them when she
was little). What would Rogue think if she knew the real reason why I had her
take in her youngest sister over the weekend? I have some suspicions, so I hope
she won't find out, but will I manage to keep this affair a secret if I
continue it?
When the two arrive a few hours later, Hope is
in very cheerful spirits. She always enjoys flying with Rogue and she looks as if
she also had quite an active time in West Virginia. As soon as she touches the
ground and before she has finished taking off the harness that links her to
Rogue on long-distance flights, she begins to chatter about the bicycle
excursions she did with Harriet and Heloise and J.B. LeBeau, Rajinder Shaara
and Pia DaCosta in the lower slopes of the Alleghenies. Heloise, she tells me,
is very sporty and competitive, always determined to stay ahead of her
playmates even if they are older than she. In that she is very much like her
sister Valerie, I have to think by myself. These days she lives with the
Shaaras a lot Rogue may talk about Valerie significantly less than I do, but
even that can be often enough to get on her nerves.
As we unpack Hope's travel-bag I suddenly hold
Hope's school exercise book in my hands. Not something I would expect on such a
short visit. From Irene maybe, but not from Hope. "Hello, homework on your free
weekend. Isn't that overdoing things a bit?"
"No, I just took 'em 'cause mommy wanted to
see..." If looks could kill, Hope would survived, but the one Rogue just gave
her would have her limping for a week. Hope rushes to correct herself: "...er,
Rogue wanted to see them."
"You could have done that here," I tell Rogue
as if there had been no slip, "just because you can lift a truck doesn't oblige
you carry a truckload of stuff everywhere."
***
I'm not proud of what I did after Rogue left,
but neither am I ashamed. As I am an experienced parent and with my knowledge
of espionage and interrogation techniques the difficulties of wangling the
information from my youngest daughter were quite surmountable. Hope now feels
bad about giving away what she promised not to tell, but she'll bounce back
soon. It was a difficult situation for her to begin with she had not exactly
relished withholding something this important from me. And she is very much
like her mother in one respect: She does not like to lie. However, she is not
yet old and experienced enough to be anyway near as good as Val at dissimulating
without telling outright untruths.
So. Mommy Val has returned. This is what Hope
eventually said she learned: Earlier this year Heloise would wake up and find
her toys, clothes and everything in subtly different places from where she
remembered leaving them before she fell asleep. One time the entire room had
apparently been cleaned up overnight (there are times when tidiness can be a
drawback). Slowly, she began to suspect (or hope, at least that is what Hope
says she said) that she was not alone in her head, that Val now lived in her
subconscious and would emerge from it at nights to borrow her body. Heloise
could remember what it was like from 'the other side', having existed
'subconsciously' herself when Val's transplanted psyche had been in control of
her body. And so it was.
At first there was no direct way for Heloise to
communicate with Val in her mind. I'm not even sure if Val wanted her to become
aware of her so soon. Anyway, Heloise, proving quite resourceful for her age,
started leaving notes for Val, which apparently was the real reason why her
teacher and everyone else was so delighted by her studious efforts in learning
to read and write at the time.
"Heloise thinks she saved Mommy when the
Professor tried to wipe her from her mind," Hope told me. "She kicked and
screamed at him and at Mommy to get her to stay. Back then she thought it had
all been for nothing, but somehow she seems to have pulled he into some corner
safe from mind-probes. Leastways that's what the Professor says."
Rogue took him into their confidence
eventually, but not me. Maybe it was to be expected, Charles Xavier is that
most excellent life-form, an 'expert', and I am merely the woman who centered
her life on Valerie.
Well, maybe not the woman, it appears that in her way Heloise is currently making
Val the most important factor in her life as well. If Hope remembers correctly
what Heloise, Val and Rogue told her, Heloise stalwartly refused any suggestion
of another attempt to mind-wipe her 'sister's' persona. Hope thinks that it
would not be possible without risking severe damage to Heloise's brain. If she
understood Rogue (who had inquired about the possibility of transferring Val
back to her mind) correctly, the first attempt resulted in Valerie's persona
being pushed much deeper inside Heloise's inner mind, so some fragments have
become entangled so much that it is pretty much impossible even for an expert
telepath to sort out which elements belong to which persona (because they
belong to clone-sisters they are very similar) and to remove only Valerie's.
This could cause serious problems if the
peaceful coexistence of Val and Heloise inside Heloise's head should come to an
end, but at present that possibility thankfully is not imminent. Heloise is in
control of her body, her relationship with Val is, in Hope's opinion, "just
like it was when mommy was in Rogue". I would surmise that the incomplete
erasure enabled Heloise's own personality to 'find her feet', so that by the
time of Val's reappearance it had matured and grown strong enough to assert
herself, at least when she is awake.
Hope claims that Heloise and Val get along well
now and that they have gained a large measure of control about who is in charge
of the body (Heloise could 'hand over' control to Val when they wanted to
during Irene and Hope's visits).
As I said, I'm not proud of what I did and
maybe I'll have to work on soothing Hope's bruised feelings for a while. I
asked her what she would like do with me, and she said she wanted me to take
her to a fashion show. Now that is something I did not see coming.
***
The light is so bright
its impact hurts the back of my eyes. Adjusting to it I discover I'm not in my
own bed, but in the sick bay of X-Factor HQ. And I'm heavily bandaged. What
happened ... ah yes, fight, Sabretooth broke loose, tried to kill me, passing
out as I was carried here, blood running down my right leg ... Oh god, Valerie
was in the room with us, did he...?
No, there she is,
wrapped in even more bandages than me, her left arm in a plaster cast. But
alive. Breathing regularly in her sleep. So we both survived his attack. Thank
heavens. (There's a crucifix on the wall above us, a donation from my son Kurt.
Not all that appropriate to Val's Lutheran sensibilities..)
For all her bruises
and the paleness of her face she looks lovely and serene. How close I just came
to losing her! Or possibly how close she came to losing me (he could have
killed me if not for her). So soon after we faced up to how we felt for each
other. We were both incredibly lucky, and we still have a chance for something
more than our furtive little meetings...
It was largely my
fault that we didn't spend more time together, that we kept our (tentative?)
relationship a secret from most people we know. I was a little scared that it
wouldn't work out. But what put us into sickbeds puts everything into
perspective... What is more important, the fears of what could go wrong between
us or the way we feel when we're together?
But it was kind of
funny at times. Two months ago, the day after our first time, when she had me
sent to her office and everybody thought she was giving me another
dressing-down. When she just didn't have the patience to wait until the
evening... At times we behaved like a couple of schoolgirls sneaking off to the bathroom for a slap-and-tickle.
Maybe we should act
more like adults. It is not as if I'm ashamed of being in love with Val, is it?
The door opens and in
walks Forge, electronically alerted to my waking up. "Good morning Raven," he
says. "Feeling better?"
Forge is the only one
on the team to whom Valerie has hinted about her feelings, but that was ages
ago. Maybe he guesses he mentions that he saw to it that we weren't put into
separate rooms. "I thought it'd help you to see immediately how you're doing."
"What about
Sabretooth," I ask, "did he escape?"
"No."
So he's sitting and
waiting in a holding cell. "I hope what happened will at least bury the
prospects of him being forced on us after some half-witted brain treatment."
"Hardly. He's dead."
"What?? How...?"
"Valerie got in at
least two good shots, one in the spine and one in the skull. The bullet was so
small that it was thrown back when it hit bone again after going through his
brain. Made a big mess of his brain and cerebellum."
"But surely his
healing factor...?"
"Too chaotic. From the
autopsy it appears that the relatively undamaged parts of his brain tried to
regenerate while another part of his body tried to build a new brain from
scratch and the bone fragments that had been propelled inside tried to grow
into a new skull inside the original one. The competing centers drew blood and
oxygen away from each other and from the other parts of the body. The
coordination of metabolic processes deteriorated rapidly, and finally his respiration
and heart gave out."
And I have a hunch it
was too late for you to do anything about it.
"We were too busy
saving your and Valerie's lives. Well, what's done is done. Soooo, you're the
widow, any thoughts about the funeral arrangements? What would you say about a
cremation?"
With a poker-face as
impassive as Forge's I reply: I am sure that is what Victor would have wanted.
"Good, so I guessed
correctly. I've already made the necessary arrangements."
Of course that
includes all parts removed during the autopsy, right?
"If you insist." Forge
hardly winks at me at all and leaves the room.
It is better to be
safe than sorry. Whoever had Sabretooth assigned to X-Factor would probably
leap at the opportunity to make use of his remains, perhaps try to create a
more docile Sabre-clone. Forge also senses that, and though he continues to
work for Uncle Sam, he knows that some things (such as his Neutralizer) are so
dangerous that you have to destroy them even if there is only a small chance of
them falling into the wrong hands.
A while later Valerie
finally awakes. Hello there, how do you feel, my love?
Val blinks and
grimaces. "Badly beaten about. Hurting, but alive. And you?"
As well as can be
expected under the circumstances. Glad to see you've come through in one piece.
Sad to see you injured. And so badly.
She blows me a little
kiss and smiles when I return the gesture. But we don't remain alone for long.
Forge returns quickly, this time accompanied by Havok. At least I don't have to
try to explain myself what happened in the fight with Sabretooth. Valerie
listens attentively, but she is still worn out and relieved when the informal
debriefing is over and the two leave.
Not that this relief
lasts, for now Dr. Fitzpatrick and Nurse McQueen arrive to inspect their two
patients. While Anita chattily takes my pulse and blood-pressure, the good
doctor speaks to Val in hushed tones, practically whispering. I can't make out
what he is saying above the cheerful banter of the nurse. But it seems to be
important. I see Valerie's eyes widen in surprise. For a while she just stares
into space. Finally her expression softens and she smiles. And whatever the
news is, it made her drowsiness utterly disappear.
After our two visitors
are finished and my bed has been rolled closer to hers, Valerie shoos them
away.
She looks at me.
I look back at her.
She smiles at me with
an expression I cannot read.
At last she breaks the
silence.
"Um, Raven... I hope
you're lying down..." She giggles nervously. "Uhmm... how to begin...? Now this
came as a surprise to me, I wonder if it does to you..."
What is she talking
about? I can't see my own expression, but it must look funny to her. Her smile
widens to become a smirky grin.
"I had no idea just how anatomically correct you become when you take on a male shape."
You mean...
"I do indeed. You see,
when Dr. Gunther told me that I'm pregnant I thought 'that's impossible, the
only person I had sex with these past months is Raven, and she's a woman,
right?'"
I gape like a
shell-shocked Harrison Ford. My mind races back. We always made love as woman
and woman, except... "It must have been when we... the first time... at your
place..."
Valerie nods, but I
don't pick up the thread. "Don't you want to know how the baby is?"
I don't have to. I
know it is fine just by looking at her beaming face. Then her expression
changes once more. She looks me in the eyes affectionately. Tenderly. With no
trace of any reproach. My loving Val.
With some difficulty I
rise and lean over to her. It becomes a good kiss. But then I have to sink back
into my pillows. A little dizzy still, I explain, maybe from the loss of blood.
Val puts her right
index and middle fingers to her lips, then to mine. She winces, her bandaged
arm hurts with the effort. I hold on to her slackening hand and kiss the palm.
It is a magic moment. I sense perhaps for the first time we know each other's
thoughts and feelings without having to put them into words. Valerie can sense
my love for her, that our trial period is over before it really began and she
won't have to wait the full six months, that she and I and the unborn child
will begin a new life together as a family.
"Till death us do
part," she whispers and I have to struggle to keep my eyes from welling up as I
nod and smile a crooked smile at her. I think of paging the nurse to ask her to
bring us a bottle of champagne and all at once I notice a sparrow chirruping
outside the window over the noise of the noontime traffic.
***
Irene
Adler did not appear in that dream. Odd. I couldn't stop dreaming of her ever
since Valerie's 'suicide'. But I probably did not want to think of her in that
context. In the weeks that followed, Destiny would occasionally come to 'haunt'
me again. But more of my dreams began to revolve around the present than the
past (at least that is true for the dreams that I could remember the following
morning), I even had a few erotic fantasies about Jean Grey and Logan.
The year wore on. Nathan Summers arrived at
X-Factor HQ, and I was assigned to instruct him in hand-to-hand combat to help
him refine what he had learned from Wolverine and others while in school. The
addition of Myrmidon to the team forced me to guard my thoughts better, but
after a few weeks I got used to this (minor) annoyance.
At home, Hope overcame her temporary
estrangement and accepted that I would not mess up Heloise's life in order to
get back together with Valerie. We did things together in her free time more
often, when my 'job' permitted. Once we went to Williamsburg, where she spent
hours exploring the intricacies of old Colonial law and administration as well
as the details and parts that made up 18th century costume.
I also traveled north on a few occasions,
mostly to see Irene and what progress she was making at school. No cause to
worry there, she got good grades and appeared to be popular enough with her
classmates (both mutant and non-mutant). Unlike myself, and to a much greater
degree than Valerie, she has a knack for getting along with people and making
friends. Also, after a period of frictions in October, she and her roommate
Candida (or Kansas, as Irene as taken to calling her) now get along famously
with each other.
Candida currently is sweet on their schoolmate
Cyrano Blaire (who evidently inherited his father Longshot's attractiveness),
while Irene is in no hurry to get into a crush on someone. She is very serious
about her studies and has some very definite ideas as to what she wants to make
of herself when she graduates, but thankfully she also can relax and have fun
in her free time. That ability to let her hair down helped her to take some of
the pressure out of her rivalry (in the academic field as well as when they are
training as a metapowered team) with some of her equally ambitious classmates.
During one of my visits Emma Frost joked to me that it had been bad enough when
she taught Husk, now she had a fresher class with two swots like her, Irene and
Valeria Richards! Mr. Fantastic's daughter apparently is hard to beat in raw
intelligence, but being a very versatile near-genius, she tends to get easily
distracted from her tasks when something more interesting crops up, while Irene
has the advantage in concentration and perseverance.
If an opportunity arose, I took advantage of
these trips to see Jean. Once Logan joined in for an afternoon and a night,
inadvertently making one of my recent dreams a reality, but more importantly
fulfilling one of Jean's fantasies. She was like a child in a candy store,
having at her disposal a mouth for each of her breasts plus four hands, two
breasts, and penises enough to be applied everywhere she wanted them at the
same time. While Jean was the unchallenged focus of our activities, Logan also
did not do too badly; the attention of his wife and her bedmate rose to the
challenge of his X-factor-supported stamina. Together Logan and I pleasured
Jean until she cried enough!, then we went at each other under her eyes,
playing out another fantasy scenario of hers with the aid of my metamorphic
powers. Finally all three of us fell asleep in a sweaty heap.
It was something new to me. Not the first time
I had sex with two partners (though the last such experience lay back a long,
long time), but it was much longer and much more intense thanks to Logan's
recuperative powers and to Jean's telepathy. Not that I dared to link minds
with her myself, but she and Logan did, and it was a sight to behold and hear
how their voices and love-making reflected the feedback from what the other was
just experiencing. To top it all off, Logan and Jean switched their minds
between bodies for a while so that she could have sex with me as a man. I can't
decide what was eerier the way he looked at us with undisguised lust from her
naked body, or the way his mouth voiced her unmistakable speech-patterns in a
strange falsetto as she drove his member deeper and deeper into me. But while
it was incredibly sensual, that entire session also made me face up to the fact
that I am the optional extra. In a way, I was relieved, it showed that my affair
with Jean will not progress beyond the point I aimed for when it began. I am
still no more able to open up my mind to her now than I was then. It made me
wonder if I had consented to do that if Irene Adler or Valerie Cooper had been
a mind-reader. Possibly, but then they were two remarkable women. Would I ever
find a third who would become as special to me as they had been? I felt a
little wistful when I flew home from the get-together, reflecting that Valerie
would not be returning to me or rather, what hurt more, that she had come
back, but not for me.
Christmas 2010 we celebrate at the family home
on 30th Street. Irene invited Kansas for the holidays, and Rogue brought along
Magnus and Harriet, so there is quite a crowd, especially during the days, when
Hope's friends and some X-Factor people visit. Today Irene and two of her
friends from elementary school, Jody and Darlene Whittier, are showing Candida
the sights of the city with Hope tagging along. Magneto, still not exactly a
natural in his parental role, is sitting upstairs reading and keeping an eye on
Harriet, Pru Cheney and Chris Summers, who are watching A Charlie Brown Christmas. And Rogue and I are in the kitchen,
preparing the Christmas dinner for the family and Rogue's old teammate Pyro.
She has been rather tense ever since her
arrival, but that unfortunately has been the case for quite a while now. It
started when Hope slipped up and gave away that Valerie is back. She suspects I
got that information from Hope and she does not like it. Will she finally talk
about it today? Yuletide is notorious as the season of family quarrels. But she
would have to admit that Val has returned, and she probably had to promise her
that she would not do that...
But after I slide the goose into the oven I see
there is a different matter at the top of her mind.
"Momma, what the hell are you playin' at with
Jean Grey?" Her voice is sharp.
I don't say anything.
"Are you tryin' to break her up with Logan?
That's low, lower'n a snake's belly in a wheel-rut."
I look at her quizzically, racking my brains
how she could have found out about our affair. But Rogue has her own
interpretation of my expression:
"Dontcha dare deny it! Ah got it from Angel,
and he got it from Jean herself."
"Angel told you??"
"No, when we fought against the Mandarin last
month he had to fill me in quick and let me absorb his memories."
"That's Worthington for you. Living with
telepathic wives made him neglect his verbal skills." Confound it, Jean said
she still talked about everything with her ex, but I didn't expect that to
include me.
"Stick to the point, momma!"
I take a deep breath. "Not that it's any of
your business, but yes, I'm seeing Jean from time to time. We ... fulfill
certain needs together. But it's not a big deal. Logan knows and doesn't
complain."
"That's 'cause Jean can do no wrong in his
book," she says with blazing eyes. "But Warren told her she's riskin' her
marriage."
"He may have been Jean's husband, but he never
came close enough to begin to understand Logan. And in what ways a relationship
with him is going to differ from one with a 'normal' person like Warren. She is
just adjusting to his ways and urges, that's why Logan condones it. I just
happened to be in the right place at the right time..."
Rogue just snorts.
"...if not me, she would have found someone
else. They're grown-ups and should know what they are doing. They say it helps
relieve the pressures of their marriage, and as far as I can tell..."
I try to explain the situation to her, but do
not make any headway. In the end, Rogue storms out of the kitchen. By the time
I catch up with her, she is just out of the front door. A few passers-by hurry
past us.
"Listen to me," I plead.
She turns around angrily. "Well??"
"Rogue, you are entitled to think what goes on
between Jean, Logan and me is wrong. Maybe you're right, at least in theory.
But don't blame me just because you're Logan's ... teammate." I could have used
another word. "Look, it was not a very clever idea to fall in lust with Jean
Grey, but I'm not sorry it happened. It's just something that helps me feel
less lonely when I'm in bed at night. Jean and I have a friendship, but we
wouldn't dream of it becoming anything more serious."
She allows me to tow her back into the house,
but does not raise her eyes as we return to the kitchen.
"It wouldn't have happened if Val was still
alive, and if I met someone who meant as much to me as she and Irene did, I'd
be content again. But Jean is not that someone." I look over the pots and pans
to see if any crisis developed while we ran out, but everything is in order.
"I'm sorry this upsets you, child. It would have been easier if you hadn't
found out. We like to think that keeping secrets can make life easier, but sometimes
we realize that that is actually not the case, that the real reason we keep
something a secret is fear of embarrassment, force of habit, what have you. I'm
not happy you found out about me and Jean, but on the other hand we can openly
talk about that part of my life now. And of late there were many things we do
not talk about."
Behind me I hear Rogue's sudden intake of
breath. She knows what she has been trying to keep secret from me. Her silence
allows me to continue as if I had alluded to something else.
"You know what you told me never to tell to
Logan, and I won't. But suppose you had mentioned it to someone else, Harriet
or Hope, for instance, and she had happened to talk about it in his earshot.
How would you react?"
"Ah... don't rightly know," she says after a
pause.
"I hope you wouldn't be too angry at Harriet.
But maybe it would not even come to a confrontation. Maybe he would respect
your wish that you would not want to acknowledge it openly, that you would not
want to talk about this subject."
She catches my drift at once. "You mean he'd
continue his life as if nothing had happened and would not try to put... me in
a position where ah would tell him everything myself?"
I nod. "I think he'd even be able to force
himself not to visit you more often than before."
"Ah guess that would be one way of muddlin'
through." She sighs and looks straight at me. "But it would tear him up inside
some days, wouldn't it?"
"He'd ... manage. Knowing that you'd have
reasons to want what you want. Wishing you and your loved ones to be happy.
Leaving it up to you if and when you want to redefine your relationship, but
too savvy and pragmatic to drive himself mad waiting for that to happen."
"Ah understand," she says quietly and puts her
hand on my shoulder, wordlessly expressing what we cannot directly address.
Maybe she feels that she has to cut me slack now. "Seriously, though, you
reckon ah should talk to Logan?"
I had not given that much thought to this
actual matter, but the analogy works both ways. "Child, some things have
changed since your original decision. You've been leading your own team for
years, you have your own family, maybe it won't change things if you tell him
what we found out..."
"Ah'll have to think a little more about it,
but what you said about the force of habit may be right, momma." She paused
again. "Reckon a lot is gonna depend on Harriet. You know, when she was just a
baby and he held her for the first time, ah felt an urge..."
Now it is my turn to comfort her. "Just take
your time, Rogue," I say putting a hand on her shoulder.
"Yeah, right," she replies with a grin, "he can
wait another year or two for me to make up my mind."
And shortly after we return to preparing the
meal, Irene, Hope and Candida arrive. They're more than punctual, but the
weather outside is miserable and they want to relax, talk and warm before the
fireplace before setting the table. Rogue and I smile when an occasional giggle
drifts into the kitchen.
Half an hour later Pyro walks in and we
assemble in the dining room. Magneto sits at the opposite and of the table, in
Valerie's old place. Since he is surrounded by familiar faces I seated Irene
and Harriet next to him he is at ease and even feels comfortable enough to
chat charmingly with Candida. While the other five are happily chatting away at
their end, Rogue, St. John and I have our own conversation on mine. We no
longer fall into the habit of reminiscing about 'the good old days' of the
Second Brotherhood whenever we are together. Pyro is one of Rogue's oldest friends,
but they do not meet as often as they would like. She rapidly brings him up to
date on the latest goings-on in Snug Valley. Afterwards, when I accompany him
back to the front door, he observes how much less tension he had sensed between
her and me than at the beginning of this visit, and I grin like a Cheshire cat.
The rest of the evening passes pleasantly but
uneventfully. The girls spend some more time showing each other their presents
and Rogue settles down in Magnus' lap to cuddle. I go to Harriet's room to tuck
her in. She likes her old grandmother to read her a bedtime story, but she is
beginning to think the is getting a bit old for that, so we play our little
charade once again, where I ask her if I can read another chapter from The Jungle Book for her and she
'grudgingly' says yes.
***
I switched off the
lamps, but there is still the light of the street lantern before our house
coming in through the bedroom window. And there she stands at the far end,
walks towards me and sits down on the bed beside me. What is the matter with
me? It seems Irene Adler shows up in my dreams every time I lie down. Back when
Valerie was alive months could go by without me dreaming of her. Not that I'm
not glad to see you.
"Grόί dich, Raven,
fr"hliche Weihnacht!" she says smiling kindly. "Back then you were happy and
did not need me."
Oh. Because I had Val
to talk to about everything? Well, Christmas always was your favorite holiday,
Irene, it is only fitting you should be here tonight.
"Did you have a nice
party?"
Yes, after Rogue and I
had our exchange of views, everything went smoothly. Irene's classmate got to
see us at our best behavior and Pyro enjoyed celebrating the holidays with
Rogue and me, almost as in the old days. Of course we still don't manage to do
the goose exactly as you used to, but no one complained.
Destiny smiles. She
had inherited the recipe from her mother, but she also improvised some
alterations to it which she took to her grave. "And the children liked their
presents?"
Hope certainly was
very content that I bought her fancy football shoes. I have a nasty suspicion
I'll have to become a regular soccer mom next year. And Harriet loves tinkering
with the car kit, she must get that from her mother.
"I'm glad you and
Rogue are on better terms again..."
Yes, that turned out
better than I feared. We've been keeping too many secrets from each other this
year, but now we're talking again. Although she still won't talk about...
"...the return of your
great love." She places her right hand on my shoulder.
Irene, I don't know
what to think. I thought Valerie and I were in love with each other as you and I had been, and now
she won't even talk to me. After I found out she is back in her clone-sister's
mind without telling me I couldn't sleep some nights wondering how she really
feels for me. Why won't she trust me? You know, there are nights when I wonder
whether our relationship would have lasted had she lived...
"Maybe Valerie just
does not trust herself. It could well be that she is forcing herself to stay
away from you because she is afraid of what she might do to Heloise if her
feelings for you overwhelm her if she sees you face to face."
That sounds almost too
good to be true. But 'could be'? I really must be dreaming you. The real
Destiny would have been more definite, she would have seen what will happen
when Val and I will finally speak to each other again...
"No, the real Destiny didn't see it. The
future is clouded, beyond a certain point the images become jumbled. There is
an anomaly in the time stream that makes it impossible to foretell anything for
certain..."That sounds familiar, when had Irene said something like it before?
"I sense a crisis ahead, but the danger does not concern Valerie and Heloise.
All I can say, Raven, is: be on your guard."
Aren't I always?
Irene Adler smiles
quietly.
***
Another day, another emergency. Here I am again
in the X-Factor plane en route to Savannah, Georgia. As during the two missions
that came before I wonder if this is the situation of which Destiny warned me
in my dream. On the other hand, maybe I already avoided that danger by being
extra cautious when we ran up against the Neo or when Kansas City was
threatened by Diablo and his cohorts. Or maybe old explanations are best and
that Irene Adler was nothing more than a badly digested slice of cheese.
We scrambled quickly, and now Havok is briefing
the task force as his wife pilots our aircraft southwards. Firestar, Pyro,
Strong Guy, Myrmidon and I gather around, as he fills us in on the situation.
"Folks, the Coast Guard called us in because
one of their vessels, the Sandpiper,
disappeared last night under circumstances that lead them to the suspicion that
metapowered foul play might be involved. She suddenly disappeared off their
radar screen around 3:15 a.m. What set off alarm bells of our friends at the
USCG was that the Sandpiper had just
completed a routine check on a Genoshan freighter leaving port, the MV Albatross from Hammer Bay."
So of course some bright mind suspected that
some big bad mutant sank their ship. But Genosha has been at peace with the
rest of the world since their last revolution.
"And there's no possibility of an accident?"
asks Firestar much more reasonably.
"Highly unlikely, apparently," Alex Summers
replies. "They say the night was clear on the approaches to Savannah last night
and there was no wind to speak of. What is a bit worrying is that at the time
of the last radar contact there were three more vessels close enough to the Sandpiper that they must have seen or
even heard any explosion, should one have occurred. Yet they noticed nothing
out of the ordinary."
"Do you think that whatever happened could have
been concealed somehow?" Pyro asks. "A powerful telepath maybe, or someone
creating a fog?"
"Hopefully it will be easy to find that out
when we arrive at Savannah harbor. The three ships are all there. If a
mind-wipe is involved, Nathan should recognize the signs easily." I suspect
Alex feels it necessary to express confidence in our newest member.
"Thre is always the possibility that the
culprit or culprits actually were on one of the other ships," I remind the
others. "What do we know about them?"
Alex checks his printouts. "One ship is called
the Cargofeeder Condor from
Galveston, the freight appears to be, you're not going to believe this, chicken
feed. Well, grain to be processed as that. The others came in together, the tug
Agile towing in the Citrus Trader III, which had an engine
failure on her way transporting grapefruits from Pensacola to Boston."
"Savannah's coming up!" Polaris announces from
the cockpit.
Havok walks forward to join her: "Could you
take us on a swing across the river so we can take a look at the ships?"
As the harbor comes into sight, Pyro sits down
in his position at the recce console. "What the hell? I thought you said the Citrus Trader was carrying grapefruit,
Alex, look at these radioactive emissions...!"
"Hmm, if that's what the cargo really is,
they'd have to put health warnings on them."
Then everything seems to happen all at once.
Firestar, who is opening the hatch in the back
to fly out, shouts: "Two bogeys closing in from six o'clock!"
That's from the sea. Probably equipped with
stealth technology if our radar did not detect them. But even so, shouldn't
Myrmidon's telepathy...?
As Polaris quickly goes into evasive action,
Havok angrily snaps: "Nate, why didn't you...?"
"I couldn't, their minds are shielded, can't
get a fix on them, not even now!"
"Hang on, that's the X-Men's planes!" Pyro
shouts out. And through my small window I catch a sight of one of them,
recognize the familiar lines of their Blackbird.
"Cripes, the Professor is with them." Myrmidon gasps, hearing
something we cannot. "Havok, they know who's behind this, it's the Shadow
King!"
Not Amahl Farouk again. Will that bodiless
super-psi never stop haunting my life? At least the instructions our telepath
relays in rapid staccato seemingly indicate that Xavier and his merry mutants
know what is going on. The X-Men task force has more telepathic 'muscle', they
will take on Farouk while we deal with his agents on the Citrus Trader III. And
then, as the other two planes shoot off towards the city center, our plane does
a smart turn and quick descent towards the freighter, Firestar flying ahead
under her own power while Myrmidon does his best to telepathically mask our
presence from his seat until the opposition on the freighter sees us and warns
Farouk. All in the cabin are tossed about by the rapid maneuvers.
As we come to a halt a couple of yards above
the upper deck we all scramble out. Polaris blasts open the cockpit canopy and
takes to the air under her own magnetic powers, after the last one of us has
leapt out of the rear hatch the aircraft takes off under auto-control and goes
into hover mode above the river at a distance.
Firestar is shot out of the sky by a bright
purple ray, but Polaris catches her just as she is about to plunge into the
Savannah River. The assailant, a big bruiser with the height of a basketball
player, the width of a sumo wrestler and a bare torso covered in tattoos, is
immediately caught by Havok's energy blast and hurled against an iron wall. His
clean-shaven head sinks down to his chest.
But then Alex is in trouble, a woman in an
orange jumpsuit gestures, and immobilizes him by solidifying the air around.
Guido reacts in an instant, works up speed with a running start and runs into
the crystalline glob. The collision propels Havok into his assailant, smashing
her against the bulkhead behind her. With a loud groan the air is blown from
her lungs. While I make sure that she's out cold, Guido and Pyro desperately
join their powers to crack open the cocoon before our leader suffocates.
Pyro shouts a warning. Turning around I see a
man with spidery hands ending in shiny blue-black claws that must be half a
meter long leaping over the prone body of Myrmidon and rushing toward me.
Luckily I already have my stun gun out to use on Miss orange pants, aiming at
him and firing is the work of an instant. The first dart hits him in the chest
before I am in his reach, but he is tough, I have to pump two more into him
before he finally collapses. Only then do I realize I'm cut in the left
forearm.
Luckily it is nothing serious. St. John quickly
slaps a bandage around it, and we rush to rejoin the fight. Or the mopping-up,
as it turns out. Our prisoners, metapowered and non-powered, are speedily
rounded up on the quarter-deck. Lorna calls back the plane and Guido jumps
inside to bring a selection of Forge's special shackles that will hopefully
restrain the stronger metas, while Firestar and I watch over those who used
distance powers in the fight and are still conscious with dart-guns ready.
Seeing we have everything under control, Alex
walks over to Myrmidon, who had collapsed on deck soon after he touched it.
"Nathan! Are you hurt?"
The young psi rises slowly, his hands pressed
against his temples. "Farouk blasted me from downtown," he groans, "but now the
X-Men have got to him, he's occupied..."
Nathan Summers casts a cursory glance at the
captured and handcuffed crewmen of the Citrus
Trader III. With barely a change of expression, he sends us a telepathic
warning: "Watch out for the shifty-eyed guy near the life raft. He's a meta!"
Unfortunately the man somehow sensed that Nate
had detected his secret and runs for it, the handcuffs exploding into thousands
of fragments. Nate quickly erects a TK shield to protect us and the other
prisoners from the hail of shrapnel. Firestar fires almost simultaneously, but
her darts bounce off his skin without effect. (What did she expect? The
explosion around his wrists didn't hurt him!) Polaris picks up a wrench from
the deck with her magnetic powers, but then stops. It may not be such a good
idea to hurl that at him. But luckily I manage to trip him up. Guido knocks him
out cold with a brutal blow to his temple, and after that it proves possible to
inject a sedative.
Then quiet. The men and women of X-Factor
assemble, curious if we will be needed in the fight downtown as well. Our
18-year-old psi (old enough to save the world, not old enough to buy a drink)
is the first to allay our worries. "It's over."
And immediately afterwards the loudspeaker in
the cockpit crackles and we hear the jubilant voice of Iceman shout out: "We
nailed the fucker good!"
"I can no longer sense the Shadow King's
presence," Nathan adds.
I look at Polaris. "Could you take me there?" I
want to make sure myself.
She agrees, after a quick exchange of glances
with Alex. Given my history with the Shadow King they understand. While the
others stay behind to watch the prisoners and secure the Citrus Trader's cargo until the authorities arrive to take over,
Lorna picks me up and flies me across town.
"Do you think they got him this time?" she asks
me. She too has suffered at Amahl Farouk's hands.
"It would be what I've wanted ever since he
slipped away after we fought him on Muir Island, maybe we shouldn't be too
confident." I tell that to myself as well, but my heart beats higher. Surely
the combined might of the X-Men's telepathic crew would be up to defeating him
and not be deceived by him into believing he didn't escape? Somehow the sun
shines brighter, and the tree-lined streets and squares of old Savannah look
more beautiful.
We finally arrive at Farouk's hideout in a
three-storied white wooden house on Whitaker Street. I rush up the long,
curving stair up to the arched front door...
There they all are. Xavier in his Shi'ar hover
chair, his face gray after the fight, but smiling. I acknowledge his greeting.
Psylocke talking with Husk and Muskrat, that is Paige Guthrie (or does she call
herself Wilder these days?) and her brother Jed. Wolverine, Cyclops and the
younger Coys guarding the captured muscle-men in the adjoining corridor. Storm
and Synch looking after a confused overweight Chinaman in his early forties
sitting in a green-leather upholstered chair (the former host of the Shadow
King's essence). Emma Frost and ... two
Icemen??
Jean Grey walks up to me.
"This time we got him properly." She shows me a
telepathic image of what happened. I see how Farouk's astral form is torn from
its host body and riddled from all directions by the psychic blasts and bolts
of the four telepaths and the other psis, then it begins to glow and abruptly
implodes and explodes, at the same time contracting into nothing and exploding
in a billion fragments that rapidly scatter in all directions until they can no
longer be seen. Is this really the end of him? Is there no chance that he will
somehow reassemble himself or return from whatever dimension he was sent to?
"There's no such thing as 100 per cent
certainty with a being like the Shadow King," she says. "But I don't see him
returning anytime soon."
"He was no longer in a state to hide his
presence, and we wiped out every fragment we could get a hold of," Professor
Xavier elaborates. "Some tiny fragments may have been too weak too escape
detection. But then they should also be too weak to survive long enough. If
there was a soul in that astral body, it was ejected into the void."
"A consummation devoutly to be wished," says
the White Queen with a grim smile, but Xavier is not so elated. Even if Farouk
is gone for good, that won't bring back his son. Seeing Lorna's and my
puzzlement over the two Bobby Drakes, Emma points first to the one on her left and
then to the one on her right.
"This young man you already know, this slightly
older one is, well, also my husband after returning from a future that
hopefully will no longer happen now." She began the introduction with her
accustomed superior smile, but now she becomes more sober with every word she
utters. "In his world, something terrible happens in two years' time. Because
the Shadow King escaped from a battle against X-Factor in Savannah today, he
would later have fused with Apocalypse and there would have been a terrible
battle in 2013, in which most of the X-Men, myself included, ... died. Bobby...
traveled back in time to warn us."
Lorna Dane has quite a few questions, and while
she continues the conversation with the others, the Iceman from the future
takes me aside.
"This must be great for you, after what the
Farouk did to you guys," he says with a jubilant smile.
"Well, I'm tempted to begin to believe what you
all just told me," I say cautiously.
"And
now Rogue and Maggie and Kurt won't die. Will Val be coming with the others
soon? When I think of how she must feel after being his thrall and used to try
to kill you."
His prattling buys me time to think of a reply.
"No, unfortunately she couldn't leave her bed. She caught a bug on that mission
in Benin..."
"Give her my best wishes for a speedy
recovery."
"So, what are Valerie and I like in your world,
Robert Drake?" I ask nonchalantly.
"Should I tell you? Well, I already interfered
in the course of history, it would be silly if I suddenly became coy now..."
"Hey, what have the laws of causality ever done
for us?" I reply with a wink.
"Anyway, can't really see how it could hurt to
tell you. Pretty much unchanging over the years, the two of you happily married
in your house in Georgetown, Irene top of her class at Xavier's..."
"Did you say married?"
"Well, yeah, still shacking together,
technically. Valerie won't talk you into formally tying the knot, if that's what you're driving at. But it's more
stable than a lot of marriages with elaborate ceremonies and detailed
pre-nuptial agreements that I've seen."
For a moment I feel envy for my counterpart in
his world. But then I catch the import of something he said earlier. "Poor Val.
It must have been hell for her after Kurt and Rogue died..."
"I
missed it. I was time-traveling with the Avengers and only arrived a year after
the others had..." The Robert of the future clears his throat. "Anyway, they
told you had just come out of your depression. I guess it must have been hard
for Valerie, but you know how much she loves you. I saw you two together before
I came here, your love hasn't diminished. But now that's not gonna hap- who is
THAT?!"
I turn around, following his gaze, but all I see
is the rest of the team coming in through the front door. "Who is who?"
His face rapidly drains of blood. "The young
guy with the white streak in his hair... the one with Scott."
"Nathan, his eldest son."
"Ohmygod."
Emma Frost turns towards us. "Bobby? Is
something the matter?"
His shoulders slumped dejectedly, he says:
"This is not my world. It's another frigging reality..."
Emma tries to console him, takes him in her
arms. The other Bobby Drake does his best to help: "Don't let it get you down,
Bobster, you did good here, you'll just try again. I'm sure you'll get to the
proper past with your next try."
"Or then on after that..." Our visitor from an
alternate future smiles a brave, resigned smile. "But before I leave you'll
have to tell me the deal with Nathan. You see, where I come from, he had to be
sent into the far future when he was still a baby because we couldn't heal him
after he was infected with a techno-organic virus..."
While most of the people in the room converge
to gather around the two Bobbies to compare notes on the differences between
our two timelines, I discreetly edge away and towards the door. I know enough
about the ... other Raven and Valerie. Indeed, I walk in a daze over it. On my
way out I pass Pyro, one of the few who did not join the huddle in the center.
He sees my how my eyes are turning misty.
"Raven...?"
I don't have time for this. "Please, St. John,
don't. Right now I. Have. To be. Alone."
He throws up his hands in mock surrender. Thank
you, old friend. Maybe I'll tell you later. I walk out and sink down on the
stair, hiding my face in my arms. Good thing the others are busy inside and
don't see what state I'm in.
***
"Say hello to your new baby sister, Irene."
"S'all red, mommy" our
two-and-three-quarter-year-old daughter observes.
"That's because
I've just given birth to her," Valerie
explains, "that shortly after your birth you were all purple, Reney."
Little Irene continues
her scrutiny of the baby in her mother's arms. "She's only got three fingers on
each hand."
"One more than Kurt,"
I say. "And her hair is blue, like his." Only it does not cover her entire body
as it did his when Irene Adler bore him. There is just a sparse little fuzz at
the top of her head.
"She got a tail?"
"No." Valerie smiles.
"Oh." Reney looks a
little disappointed. "Whatcher gonna call her?"
"Well, Mama Ray and I
talked about it, and we think Hope would be a nice name."
Irene gravely nods her
permission and cautiously begins to stroke her baby sister's little head.
The door opens and
Rogue enters our bedroom. Having heard the news of Hope's birth she just had to
fly over to help welcome her to the family.
Irene is happy to see
her for Rogue has not forgotten her. She pulls a little present from her pocket.
Val has to tell Reney only once to say 'thank you'. She unwraps the box to find
a tin boat, the kind that is propelled by water from a tube system heated by a
candle. Reney wants to try it out immediately of course, and so I accompany her
to the bathroom while Valerie hands over Hope to Rogue. We fill a plastic tub
inside the bathtub, while the water runs in I have to read the instructions out
aloud to Irene. Getting the water inside the metal tubes is a little tricky,
but then after she puts the boat on the water and I light the wick, the
contraption actually works. There is a soft, stuttering noise, the tin boat
gathers speed, and it winds up drive counter-clockwise along the oval wall of
the plastic tub to Irene's squeals of delight.
"My best friend's
brother had a boat like that when I was little." Oh no, not you again. "He
never let us play with it because we were girls. Luckily I got enough pocket
money to buy one, eventually. But we left it behind when we left Austria. Good
to see that my namesake likes it as much as I did. I wonder where Rogue found
it."
She later told me she
bought it during her last visit to Europe to see Kurt and his family. At the
same street fair where she also bought the duck that she had brought for Hope.
"Yes, a child can never
have enough furry toys."
Later that day Magnus
also arrived to join us, and in the evening, when Hopey was asleep in her cot
and Reney in her bed, we sat together, the four of us and just talked away.
They had also brought us a presents, a pair of fancy Han Solo and Princess Leia
action dolls, which Irene and Hope eventually got their hands on years later
and finally broke. You know what a Star Wars fan Valerie is. Was. Maybe still
is, I don't know. So, what do you want now?
"I just wanted to see
how you feel after today's happenings in Savannah," she says with a note of
sympathy in her voice.
I was very depressed,
if you must know. Poor St. John must have got to hear more than he wanted to
know about my feelings for Valerie after what that other Iceman had told me.
"What was the
problem?"
Well, there were times
when I tried to console myself over losing her by telling myself that things
would not have worked out between Val and me if she had lived. After all, she
was killed just six years after we started living together, that was not even
enough for the Seven-Year Itch to kick in. And things weren't always as idyllic
between us as they are today. Back then. On April 18, 1999. We had our
disagreements, and she was a lot less patient than you. So I said to myself she
might have left me. But now this Robert Drake appears and tells me that Val and
I lived 'happily ever after' at least until the year 2014. That's nearly twenty
years!
"And now your loss
hurts as intensely as it did when she died in body."
And the other time,
when she tried to have Xavier erase her from Heloise's mind. I hear what Mr.
Drake told me of my counterpart in his world and I think: I could have had
something like that.
"At least you helped
save Kurt and Rogue's life."
Maybe. I'll believe it
when I see it. Well, Xavier and Co. gave the Shadow King a good tanning. Would
be nice if they finished him off for good, but who can tell?
"Well, since you bring
it up..."
You, Irene? If I
believed in ghosts, you would be the first I asked about his fate in the
afterlife...
"Oh ye of little
faith." She smiles mischievously. "Let me just say, Amahl Farouk made many
enemies in the world of the living, and enough of them preceded him to the
other side and waited for him there to make his present existence extremely ...
interesting."
***
In the weeks and months that followed, I often
pondered about the possible fate of the Shadow King, but my thoughts would also
stray to the world of the other Iceman. Did he eventually succeed in his quest
to save his wife and his friends? What little I know about time-travel does not
bode well, Reed Richards postulated that time-travelers will always end up in a
different time-line from the one where they started, so it should have been
impossible. Still, it would be good if he succeeded, for his own sake and for
that of our counterparts in his world, who would not have to deal with losing
Rogue and Kurt in one day.
Richards and the other eggheads also claimed that
this Iceman's visit had briefly disrupted the fabric of time and space, and as
if to prove them right, we received the news a few days later that Illyana
Rasputina, the young sister of Kurt and Rogue's former teammate Colossus, had
popped into our world from her otherworldly Limbo that day. She had an apparent
age of fifteen years, and so eventually became Irene's classmate at the school
in Snow Valley in late November.
After the excitement of July 9th, the rest of
the year seemed uneventful. At X-Factor HQ love was once again in the air,
between our youngest member and the daughter of our government liaison. And
they that is Guido, St. John and Random called it puppy love. Perhaps with
some justification, after all Nathan Summers had graduated from Xavier's School
only last year, and Maxine Pym was still preparing for her final exams when she
first came to our base, tagging along with her mother, the Wasp.
Meanwhile, back at the school Irene now had
become good enough friends with Valeria Richards that she and her roommate
Candida were invited to her brother's wedding on Labor Day weekend. I did not
go there myself, but I heard quite a bit about it from Reney and also from Kurt
and Rachel Chapman, who visited our home shortly after with their families.
Like the Iceman I had met in Savannah, Rachel
(or Phoenix) is a visitor from an alternative future, only unlike him she
stayed in our time. Back in her future (technically it has become an alternate
past by now) she had been Franklin Richards' lover, but then, after seeing him
die, she went back to 1992 to join the X-Men and later Excalibur.
Originally Rachel did not like me at all,
because she claimed all the badness of her world had started with the
anti-mutant backlash after my attempt to assassinate Senator Robert Kelly in
1991 had succeeded in her reality. At first as a favor to Kurt and Rogue she
became civil and later a little friendlier, but this was the first time she
visited me at my home without there being some official reason for her to visit
Washington.
On the second day of the visit, she, Mandy and
I went out together to a coffee-shop while Kurt and Joe took out Errol and
Kenny to the Smithsonian. Kurt joked that Joe probably would make a side-trip
to the White House and take his Union Jack identity to heart by showing his son
the building that "our lot" had set on fire during the War of 1812 (even though
Joey really does not go in for that
much flag-waving, except when England play football against Germany).
It could be said this was the first time Rachel
and I bonded. With her husband away explaining old aircraft and space capsules,
I felt I could ask her what it had felt like attending the wedding of her late
lover and see him (or his incarnation in this world) marry someone else. Luckily
she did not take offense at my indiscreet question.
"It wasn't as troubling as I feared. The first
and second time I saw Franklin after I traveled back in time it was as if a
knife was twisted in my heart, seeing that little boy reminded me of the moment
I saw my Franklin being killed by that Sentinel." For a second her expressive
face betrays how much of the pain is still there. "But I didn't get to see this
Franklin all that often, even when I lived practically next door to him. And
after I settled in England, it became clear he would remain a stranger to me.
Besides, it would have been impossible to wait for him to grow up. For me, and
a lot more for him. I couldn't tell him: It is your destiny to marry me, a
woman fourteen years older than you, so you must ignore every other girl you
meet before you reach the age of consent."
"Not to mention that you've become one with a
very scary primal cosmic force," Amanda interjects, "which is something even
the Franklin of your world did not have to deal with."
"True, I don't know how he would have reacted
to me becoming the Phoenix, but I think he would not have felt challenged to
show he was more powerful." Rachel giggles, "Thankfully Joey's male ego is not
bruised easily."
"You've become friends with 'our' Franklin,
though, haven't you? I mean, you wouldn't have been invited to the wedding
otherwise?"
"Oh yes, we're friends. I didn't mean to say
we're literally strangers. He just did not feel obliged to fall in love with me
just because he knows my story."
"Also, Rachel is now safe," my daughter-in-law
quipped. "after marrying herself. Katie did not have to worry about her pulling
a Graduate at the ceremony!"
Rachel grins at Amanda's crack. "No, Katie is
cool. She's known me for years, back when she still was with Power Pack. My
past with Franklin was just something she never emotionally connected with the
Frank she knows. They've been around each other since she went to kindergarten,
and she had a crush on him since she was a teenager, but as far as I could tell,
she never felt threatened by me. A little sorry, yes, before I had boyfriends,
but not threatened."
"But you were prepared to wait for Valerie to
grow up, when you had her body cloned, weren't you?" Amanda would have had to
ask that.
"I like to think I would have, and I think in
our case it would not have been too much to ask of her to wait for me, but it's
a moot point now that Val is gone and Heloise leads her own life."
"How is Heloise these days?" Rachel wants to
know. "Who is looking after her?"
"Well, now that Monica Rambeau and Neal Shaara
got divorced, Rogue and Magnus have to take a bigger share again. She's
basically moved back into Harriet's room. The two have always been very close
friends, so they both are quite happy with the new arrangement. Heloise is in
second grade now, in the same class as Rajinder. Doing very well, from what I
hear." I wonder if Valerie is helping her with her homework. Probably more by
working on her motivation than by helping her out if she can't think of an
answer. "But she and I still have a tendency to stay out of each other's way."
The following year, 2012, stuck in our memories
mainly for one event, the death of Charles Xavier from accelerated aging on
October 17th. He was 79 years old. When he had to leave his old body because it
had been infected by a Brood Queen's egg, his mind was transferred to a new,
younger one cloned for him using Shi'ar medical technology. After the clone was
force-aged to adulthood the aging process was slowed down, but Charles Xavier's
second body still aged faster than normal, although most people did not notice
that he had always looked a little older than he was. Even I had put down the
way he looked the last time I saw him to the exertions of the fight against the
Shadow King.
As Professor X had been teacher and father
figure to all the major mutant 'superhero' teams and the most well-known
spokesman on mutant affairs, it was no surprise that a huge throng of mourners
gathered for the funeral service in St. Servatius' Catholic Church in Salem
Center. They all were there X-Men, X-Factor, Meddlers, Excalibur, delegations
from the Avengers, Fantastic Four, Alpha Flight and other foreign teams, as
well as friends from politics, science, and the media. And myself.
Why did I come? To make my peace with Charles?
Possibly, but after I had found out that Valerie still exists in Heloise's mind
I no longer was that angry at him anyway. Maybe to atone for my sins by sitting
through a succession of speeches and musical tributes. Well, Xavier had many
close friends who wanted or were expected to talk, beginning with the
silver-haired oldest surviving ones, Magneto and Moira MacTaggert, and ending
with younger students like Paige Guthrie and Nathan Summers.
Magneto really was the only one who managed to
hold my interest, he told some things about the beginnings of his friendship
with Charles Xavier in Israel in the 1960s that I hadn't known before and he
was the only one who managed to say something that was mildly critical of the
deceased in his oration. As for the others... well, they gave me time to look
at the church more closely.
The building is a fairly ordinary 19th-century
Gothic Revival, but some of the features had obviously been carried over from
previous churches on the same site. Possibly the oldest was a big painting of
the patron saint in full episcopal regalia, with one Cornelis Adriaansz.
Xhonneux kneeling at prayer with his wife Helene and their four daughters. To
the right of it was a marble epitaph erected in the 18th century by Charles's
ancestor (or was he just some great-great uncle?) Joseph Xavier to the memory
of his grandfather Michiel Karelszoon Xavier, born in Roermond in 1619, died
here in 1684. His first wife, Saskia Cornelia, had also been born in the old
country, in Maastricht; she had died in childbed in 1663 aged 32, and was
buried along with her stillborn youngest child. Michiel Xavier's second wife,
Isabella, had already been born in America. To the left side of the painting a
plaque commemorated the members of the parish who had died during the American
Civil War serving in the 17th New York Volunteers (Westchester Chasseurs). Two
Xaviers were listed here, both died in 1862, Simon Bolivar Xavier in action at
White Oak Swamp and Henry Xavier in a military hospital near Washington.
Storm gives the final speech, since Charles
Xavier's widow, Lilandra Neramani, was prevented from being there due to a
crisis on the outer rims of her Shi'ar Empire. Ororo Munroe and Scott Summers
will shoulder the task of continuing the Professor's work from the helm of the
school and the new Charles Francis Xavier Foundation. Then the mourners went
out into the churchyard for the final ceremony. Charles Xavier's coffin was
lowered into a new grave beside that of his father, Brian. In his opening words
to the rites the priest saw fit to remind those attending that the tradition of
Charles's family in this parish went back all the way to its founding. Then it
was 'Ashes to ashes, dust to dust', and we all filed past to pay our last
respects.
Standing before his grave I had to wonder how
we would come to look on him in the future. Considering some of the eulogies I
have just let wash over me, it is almost surprising that it had not been
announced that hencforth the school would be known as Saint Charles Xavier's
School for Gifted Youngsters. True, it seems that life for mutants is safer
these days than it was ten or fifteen years ago, but how much closer has the
world come to the fulfillment of his dream due to his actions and how much in
spite of his secretive ways?
I met Rogue on the way out she was quite
overcome by the occasion, but then Charles Xavier had been such an important
influence on her life, and for a short time even a kind of father figure who
had eased her way into the at first hostile environment in her new team.
Charles had disappointed her in some respects, especially when it came to
helping her deal with her powers (she eventually attained that goal with the
help of Magneto and Emma Frost), and she had had her disagreements with him as
to the best way of making his dream a reality, but there is no denying of how
she took his principles of peaceful coexistence and giving people another
chance to heart in the way she runs her life and leads her team, the Meddlers.
"He refused to have his body cloned again," she
told me as we reached the churchyard gate, where Everett Thomas and Cordelia
Frost were getting into her mother's Rolls Royce. "Do ya reckon it was because
of Heloise?"
"I don't know. On the other hand, he could
easily have thought of Madelyne Pryor. He must have thought a bit about her
after he learned that she was a clone. Scott was like a son to him, so he saw
her often enough and could judge the differences between her personality and
Jean's."
The mention of Jean provided Rogue with a
welcome opening for a question, but I could set her mind at rest on that
account. "We decided to end it. She and Logan got what troubled them out of
their system and are now giving marital fidelity another shot. And I'm actually
not sad that we're now just friends. Maybe it was something that simply could
not have continued that way in any case." What I didn't mention was that after
speaking to 'the other Robert Drake' I no longer felt satisfied with it. Surely
life would have more to offer me than such an affair? Maybe I should start
putting more effort into looking for someone else?
But then Magneto joined us, having had a word
or two with Cyclops and Storm, and we decided to walk to the Mansion. Since Rogue
had already mentioned Heloise, they told me a little about how she and Harriet
were doing in West Virginia, and about their family outing to the Blue Area of
the Moon a month earlier to attend the wedding of Magnus's granddaughter Luna.
Which despite the efforts of Maximus to the contrary went off without a hitch.
"The most excitin' part for the girls was bein'
teleported there and back by Lockjaw. They think he's just the cutest li'l dog,
so watchin' an Inhuman royal weddin' was almost anti-climactic to Harriet and
Heloise. They had more fun tryin' out their skateboards in Lunar gravity. But
it was fun, Erbyk seems a nice kinda grandson-in-law for Magnus, and Pietro
even managed to get along with his daddy for our entire stay."
Magneto did not add much to Rogue's account of
the festivities in Attilan or elaborate on his still at times strained
relationship to his two older children and their families. But then, that is
not something about which he has to explain to me. Compared to my problems with
Graydon, he has it easy with Wanda and Pietro! Besides, as long as I have known
him, Magnus never volunteered much information about his inner feelings to me,
which was why so many of his reminiscences of his friendship with Charles
Xavier in the church had been news to me. I complimented him on his speech, but
he soon changed the subject, and I did not try to return him to it.
The reception at the Mansion was a fairly
informal affair, there were so many people there that it had been decided to
have a standing buffet instead of a full dinner. Xi'an Coy Manh, one of the new
members of the staff of the Xavier Institute opened the door for us. Magnus and
Rogue remembered her well from her time in Charles Xavier's third class of
students, the so-called New Mutants, and I had of course kept my files on her.
Now in her late thirties the former Karma has almost entirely lost the
angularity that typified her body and movements back in those days. Also there
to welcome the guests was Sean Cassidy, the senior headmaster.
At the buffet we met Wolfsbane, and, as often
happens when friends meet after a longer time apart, she and Magneto came to
talk about the family matters of their respective teams, Rahne Guthrie bringing
us up to date on the doings of her daughter Moira and son Jesse as well as the
rest of the Excalibur brood, while Magnus told her about the underage
contingent of the Meddlers' base in Snug Valley. At one point he talked about
Heloise, and there my ears pricked up.
"It really is astonishing how much like Valerie
she can be at times unfortunately some of us grown-ups remark on it a little
too often, so that she's really becoming tired of hearing it while at others
she's just Heloise." I was looking in another direction at that moment, but I
did not have to turn her way to sense how Rogue tensed. It was quite obvious
from Magneto's reaction. Don't mention Valerie and Heloise in one sentence when
Raven is around. It can be as bad as the Fawlty
Towers episode with the Germans.
But I guessed then that life probably was not
that easy for Heloise. Not only is she Valerie's genetical twin, she also
constantly lives with her inside her head (and Val never was one for keeping
silent when she thought you were wrong). It would only be natural that even
without meaning to Val exerted an almost imperceptible influence on her
behavior, and that would lead to people discovering even more similarities
between the two. If they had asked me, I would have tried to help, but as
things were, I was the last person they would have asked. But maybe Heloise and
Val got along as well with each other as Hope claimed, and help simply wasn't
needed?
The following February, we all were involved in
a big battle against Apocalypse. The Iceman from the future had told us that
Amahl Farouk had merged with him in his reality, so there was a high
probability that he was still around in ours and up to something. So the
X-groups intensified our search for signs of his activities, and in the end
succeeded in detecting his latest lair in the Mato Grosso and paying him a
surprise call before he could set in motion his first strike. Quite a clean
little operation, even if I say so myself.
After that we all breathed a lot easier, still
in the run-up to September 2nd I think a lot of us still wrestled with
irrational forebodings and were secretly relieved when that day passed without
incident. I spent much of it sitting by myself, listening to Valerie's favorite
Pet Sounds and looking at photographs
and family videos. I like to think I'm a cool customer, but my hands trembled a
little when I opened the first photo album with the pictures from when Irene
Adler and I lived in Missisippi and began to raise a young girl who liked to be
called Rogue.
2013 was also the year when Hope transferred to
Xavier's School, so I flew to Massachusetts with her and Irene for the ceremony
at the beginning of the new term. Irene was welcomed enthusiastically by her
classmates, with hugs from Candida and Ruth Summers. Hope, being a fresher, was
a little insecure at first, but that soon passed. It helped that one of the
first people we met in Snow Valley was Errol Wagner, who surprised his fellow
sophomore Lynn Judd (an Alpha Flight brat, as she called herself) by jocularly
greeting Hope as 'Aunt Hopey'. My youngest daughter was not exactly happy that
Errol teased her about their curious familial relationship on her first day in
the unfamiliar new school, and soon they were in a little scuffle, in which she
acquitted herself quite well, even though she is a year younger than my grandson.
And somehow that 'mad' helped her confidence no end that day.
The keynote speech was held by Sean Cassidy
that year (somewhere behind me I heard a parent whisper disappointedly: "That's
not James Bond at all!"), then Emma Frost took charge of the business part once
again. And doesn't time fly? she had become a grandmother as well, Cordelia
giving birth to a son, Oliver, and marrying the father, Everett Thomas, earlier
that year. With Cordelia still on maternity leave, Ms. Tamzarian was put in charge
of Hope's class, which also has George Braddock, among its number. I got to
speak a little to his parents, Captain Britain and Meggan, who had come along
with Amanda while Kurt minded the Excalibur 'store' in Britain.
All in all we felt pretty good about ourselves
in 2013, but when the new year began we were harshly reminded that even though
we had managed to take the Shadow King and Apocalypse off the board it was
still a deadly game out there. On January 29 Angel was killed in a fight
between the X-Men and the Upstarts, a group of super-powered and super-wealthy
layabouts who really had never been more than an assortment of
second-stringers. Had some of us become over-confident? The death in action of
one of the original five came as a great shock to a lot of people in the
X-teams, even Alex and Lorna, who had not actually worked that much with him
back in their X-Men days, were very downcast and hardly spoke for weeks. That
Warren Worthington's killer, Trevor Fitzroy, only survived him by a matter of seconds
was cold comfort. Indeed it only made Bishop more angry at himself for not
being quick enough.
So not much more than a year had passed since
the death of their mentor, and the X-Men had to bury another one of their own.
I did not go to the funeral as I hadn't known Warren Worthington III all that
well (he had been one of those on the team who kept their distance even after I
joined X-Factor and became a good little superheroine), and besides someone had
to be on stand-by in case of an emergency. So I watched it on television. Saw
Warren's ex-wife Jean Grey doing her best to comfort his widow as they walked
out of Centerport's Episcopal Church with their children. I had half-expected
Trish Tilby to do the commentary, but of course she was to close to the
deceased and the bereaved for that (her second daughter Debbie McCoy is after
all one of Warren's and Elizabeth's goddaughters). However, she read out the
X-Men's media statement and fielded the questions put to her by Channel 9's
Shanna Cho.
All the X-teams and the students at Xavier's
School and at the Xavier Institute lived in the shadow of the Angel's death in
the months that followed, but life had to go on. And so here I am again in the
Academy compound in Snow Valley to see Irene graduate with honors. Xi'an came
up from Westchester to meet me. These past few months we have seen a lot of
each other and I am beginning to wonder if this is evolving into something
serious. At least it is a relationship that does not arouse misgivings among
members of my family or that has to be kept secret from the world for
appearance's sake. Rogue is of course all for it. Xi'an Coy Manh, the former
New Mutant code-named Karma and elder sister to Chakra and Dakini of the X-Men,
entered my life around the end of last year. Having broken up with her former
life-partner Chance in 2012, she was amenable to my first approach. But so far
we take things slowly, one date or tryst at a time.
Xavier's School combines the graduation
ceremony with that for the opening of the term, so Hope is here, now a lot more
confident than she was a year ago. Of course it helps that she has become the
star flanker of the Xavier's school junior soccer team and is also doing very
well on the track. And Cordelia Frost's new fresher class is huge, as is the
contingent of parents and other relatives. Michael Madrox and his parents
traveled here with us, and now we see quite a few other old acquaintances.
Piotr Rasputin, the former Colossus has brought his younger son Volodya, both
are long familiar to Hope and Irene from their vacations with Rogue and Magneto
in the Savage Land. However, Volodya is not the biggest student of his class,
Holling Wingfoot, the son of the She-Hulk, overshadows him by a centimeter or
so.
Two of Rogue's inactive Meddler teammates are
also there for the occasion, Hammonia with her daughter Astrid Voss, and Gambit
with his wife Belle and their son Jean-Baptiste. Although they have returned to
New Orleans in 2010 after his Jean-Luc LeBeau was killed, Gambit still feels
out of place in the Thieves' Guild and apparently does not want his son to be
forced into the Family business as he had been by his father.
The active X-Men are represented by the McCoys
who came to see off their eldest daughter Josephine McCoy, who looks resplendent
in her golden-orange fur, a little like a tiger without the black stripes, but
with a figure that shows hints of curves to come. Trish remarks: "I was
straight and flat as a board at her age. Effie's a lot more like my sister in
that respect."
Hank and Trish's younger children came along
for the ride, both furry like their father, but of different colors and a shade
darker than when I last saw them: twelve-year-old Debbie is now a kind of olive
green that you get in some Chianti bottles, and nine-year-old Benjamin a
darkish crimson. Also with them is Effie's classmate Bronwen Worthington and
her mother, Elizabeth, both still wearing black. At fourteen she is already
quite the regal beauty, which is hardly surprising considering that her parents
were considered the most beautiful members of the X-Men for a long time by
many. Her face is framed by long, wavy hair that today is a rich shade of plum,
while the feathers of her wings are of a slightly lighter tone.
Inside the hall the stage is now decorated with
a bronze bust of Charles Xavier, a work by Alicia Masters, but not one of her
better ones, I fear. For some reason he looks as if he is about to sneeze.
Scott Summers opens the assembly and has everybody rise for a minute of silence
for Warren Worthington III, then he begins his speech as the current acting
head of the Xavier Institute and School.
A large segment of the ceremonies is taken up
with honoring Sean Cassidy and giving him a stylish send-off to retirement. Old
Moira MacTaggert came out of her lair in Scotland for the event and is of
course also feted as the Nobel Prize-winning geneticist she is. In the end they
have to deviate from the schedule, she and Hank McCoy get up on stage together
to acknowledge the applause of the auditorium, for how often do you get to see
both victors over the Legacy virus in one place these days?
But in the end this is Irene's day, at least as
far as our family is concerned. It is a happy moment, but also an eerie one
when Irene walks forward to receive her diploma. This is the first time that I
get to see a child of mine graduate from high school. In the case of Graydon
and Kurt you could say my lifestyle played merry hell with our relationships,
and Rogue bolted her high school early to go out adventuring with me in the
Brotherhood of Evil Mutants. Now I'm sitting quiet as you please with the other
parents, beaming with pride over Irene's grades and that little metal badge
hanging from her mortarboard. How conformist I behave. Val would love the
irony! It breaks my heart that she isn't here to sit next to me and Hope. We'll
have to think of an excuse for Irene to go on a trip to West Virginia so she
can visit Heloise and Valerie.
Continuing on the theme of Domesticated Raven,
we go outside together for photographs. The Class of '14 assembles for a big
group photograph, then the several families arrange smaller groups for their
private photos. Irene poses with Ruth
Summers for Scott and Madelyne. With Illyana, Volodya and Nereel for Peter
Rasputin who takes tons of reference photographs for future paintings. With
Hope and me for us so we'll have glossies to send to all the family.
I get
called in to stand behind Irene and Valeria Richards along with Mr. Fantastic
and the Invisible Woman. Doctor Doom did not make an appearance at the
graduation ceremony, but I hear he has already announced or should that be
threatened? that he shall come to see her when she starts at State
University. They should love that there, considering the circumstances under
which Victor von Doom was expelled all those years ago.
Finally Irene poses with Candida Mayhew, both
alone and surrounded by the parents and the little sister. Reney and Kansas
became close friends in their fresher year and that is how they remained. Mr.
and Mrs. Mayhew, a teacher and an accountant,
have been surprisingly good about their daughter's roommate's activities
(somehow, metapowered students at Xavier's always seem to end up fighting
super-powered villains), even if you might not expect it if you believed the
stereotypes about their professions. But now they'll be separated, at least for
a time, as Candida has chosen to accept the scholarship she has been offered at
Stanford, while Irene at first intends to combine her academic studies with
honing the use of her powers at the Mansion in Westchester with the main X-Men
team.
***
I love the time before
dawn. The noise of civilization at last falls silent (or what passes for
silence in this city) and for a fleeting few minutes all is peace. Moments like
this help me to collect myself for the hustle and bustle of the next day. Not
that I dislike Washington for its incessant activity, I would probably go crazy
if I had to live in the country for long. Even when Destiny and I lived in the
sticks with Rogue, we at least had the ships sailing up and down the
Mississippi to provide a modicum of activity.
I like to savor this
special time and the songbirds' dawn chorus, before the first commuters set out
for their day's work. I am glad that woke up early enough today. Beside me,
Valerie is fast asleep. She is usually the one who wakes up later; I don't need
as much sleep. Today is no exception, and resting my head on my arm I watch her
lying on her side, breathing regularly, her left hand on her pillow. It never
fails to startle me at least a little when I remember to remember that just a
few years ago she would not have found it so easy to lie in bed asleep in the
same room with me, and if she had managed to fall asleep her face would not
have borne such a peaceful, content expression, even though she did not know
everything there was to know about me...
A gentle, familiar
voice behind me recites:
"'And little she knew
the arms that embraced
Had cloven a man from
the brow to the waist'."
Joke all you want, Irene.
And anyway, it doesn't describe how things were between Val and me at any point
of our relationship.
"But you still think
of her as the woman
'With hair like the
sunshine and heart of gold,'
even if she wasn't
quite 'a damsel of delicate mould,' don't you?"
She knew who I was and
loved me in spite of what I had done in the past. And I never thought of her as an innocent saint or
an innocent fool. We both were aware of the consequences of some of her
actions. And while I maybe angry at her for... leaving me...
"...you won't let her
go." She bows down to me and places her warm, slender hand on the crown of my
head. "My poor Raven. You're too much like the women you loved in that respect,
always finding ways of making life more difficult for yourself. Valerie
probably would tell you you would have a much easier life if you could just let
go of her."
Not just probably. She
tried to encourage me to find someone else when she still lived in Rogue's
mind. Just like you tried to set me up with Forge just before you let yourself
be killed.
"You're still angry
with me for that. Even after all that happened afterwards."
Well, a little. Don't
think I'm not grateful for giving your life for me. Or that I'd want to undo
everything that happened after that. My heart does not give a toss about logic.
No more than yours or Valerie's would. I did not let go of you then. Probably
still don't do so now, or else you would not keep pestering me in my dreams.
But Valerie knew that and accepted it. Or was willing to face and deal with it.
And I'm not going to bloody let go of her easily either. I just can't do it,
even though I know it would be the sensible thing to do and though she still
has not seen fit to talk to me.
"You haven't tried to
talk to her either, have you?"
I can't, because of
Heloise. There my super-ego is adamant. I have to respect her interests. Maybe
Val no longer loves me now, maybe she still does but refuses to admit it out of
consideration for Heloise or some misguided feeling that by pretending to be dead
she will make things easier for me to fall in love with someone else. But if I
did anything that gave so much as a hint of the appearance I was trying to hurt
her clone-sister or try to push her into a course of action she does not want
to go, then she'll definitely hate me and I'll lose her forever.
"I wonder if things
would be easier for you if Valerie spoke with you or if you'd then find other
ways of making your life a misery. But who am I to criticize you? The heart has
its own reasons, as I can attest. I tried to be sensible when we flew to Muir
Island, but I cannot pretend that I'm unhappy that you don't forget me. And
maybe Val is secretly glad that you continue to love her, even if she won't
admit it. At least I can think of no good reason why she should have stopped
loving you."
***
That was three years ago. Now it is Hope's turn
to graduate and I am once again flying north for the ceremony. Traveling with
Alex and Lorna Summers, in fact, who have brought Christopher, Jr., to his
first day at Xavier's. As our Hogwarts Express we used a Van Dyne jet provided
by Nate and Max Summers, who dropped us off at Logan Airport and now travel on
to New Jersey to visit Maxine's parents. But there is also another reason why I
looked forward to today, for I will also get to see Heloise, who is
transferring to Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, where the staff is
better equipped to deal with her special condition. I suspect that this
condition is partially the reason why she skipped a class and will start out with
Harriet among the sophomores.
We were picked up at the airport by one of Emma
Frost's imposing limousines. It was a longish ride, but as the day is sunny I
am not complaining. Much. Or at least not as much as Christopher 'Are we there
yet?' Summers. But eventually the car drives through the front gate, up the
driveway and stops before the main building. We get out and disperse on our
separate ways.
The first familiar face I see is that of Irene
who came over to see her younger sister. The presence of the X-Woman known as
Overdrive has not gone unnoticed, and when I first catch sight of her she is
signing her autograph into a student's yearbook. She hands it back and rushes
over to meet me. "Mama, you look great!"
"Don't I always, dear? So, how are things in
Salem Center?"
Irene has much to tell, her account is
interrupted when Xi'an shows up and greets me with a kiss on the lips. I'm
still not quite used to her public displays of affection and my daughter grins
at the slightly awkward beginning to my response. But I'm glad that Xi'an came
to meet me even though she knew I will be paying a visit to her home in New
York after all this is over. Or did she come here because she knows that Jean
Grey is here also to see her daughter Mary? But then she is dragged away by one
of the new students, Maggie Cloudstar, who wants her to see her parents,
Xi'an's former New Mutants teammate Moonstar and popular Country singer Josh
Guthrie.
Irene has other things on her mind. "I hope
it'll be quieter than last year," she says with a grim smile. Last year a group
of intellectually challenged mutiphobes in battlesuits calling themselves the
Extinguishers launched an attack on the commencement day ceremonies with a few
souped-up Sentinels they had acquired from old Shaw Industries stocks. They had
not taken into account how efficient the School and the X-Men had become at
organizing the security at such events in very unobtrusive ways and in the
hiding of reserves in unexpected nearby locations. Spoiling the first day at
the Academy of the daughter of Magneto and Rogue definitely was an idea their
leader, one U. S. Fitzmaurice lived to regret when Harriet's enraged parents
caught up with him.
Irene tells me a little about the precautions
taken for today, and then Rogue stands before us. As she and I embrace and she
thinks I won't notice, she shoots a significant glance to her sister, who then
announces she is going to seek out Hope and see if there is anything that she
needs. Hmm.
Rogue and I walk out onto the lawn and sit down
beneath one of the old oak trees (she always had a thing for trees). In the
distance Harriet and Heloise can be seen talking to some other youngsters,
presumably classmates. Heloise is wearing pants, a semi-formal shirt and a
baseball cap, Harriet a leotard that covers her entire body, very much like her
mother had to when she was a teenager. "I thought Harriet was making progress
in learning to control her power?"
"Oh, she is. When ah think of myself at her
age...! But it still comes hard, it's not easy for her to maintain control for
longer'n four, five minutes at a time. We reckoned that since she's goin' into
a hall crowded with strangers today, it'd be safer this way."
It develops into a pretty innocuous
conversation. I had wondered if Rogue had an ulterior motive why she wanted to
be with me alone, but apparently she just wants to have me for herself for a
little while, for a little mother-to-grandmother talk about bringing up
Harriet, among other things. It is still a while before the assembly is set to
begin, so we are quite relaxed and I don't even mind when the subject of my
relationship to Xi'an pops up again. And why not? It is still a little sporadic
with her living in New York and me in Washington and only intermittent
meetings, but these past two years we have become permanent fixtures in each
other's lives.
A few minutes later Irene and Hope show up,
with Taryn Ashcroft in tow, and there is another rounds of hugs. Hope is very
upbeat about everything and talks about what she intends to do when she starts
going to the Xavier Institute in Salem Center. "I think I'll concentrate on
studying," she says, "one X-Man in the family is enough."
I also exchange a few pleasantries. The
strawberry blonde telekinetic joined the school a year ago to become first
Hope's classmate and then her girlfriend. She too will go to the Xavier
Institute in the upcoming term. But she does not stay long, as she sees her
father's car driving through the gate and she rushes off to meet her parents.
Hope meanwhile walks off to join Harriet and Heloise.
Once they are out of earshot, I cannot help
remarking: "I don't know about that one. Something rubs me the wrong way."
"Taryn seems nice enough to me," says Irene,
loyal to her little sister to a fault.
"She seemed a little shifty to me." Perhaps she
reminds me a little of myself at her age? "Didn't look me in the eye."
"Well, your eyes are a bit disconcertin' to
look at, momma. Could've been 'cause of that."
"Yes. Maybe it's nothing. Just me worrying if someone's
good enough for my child. Why are you laughing, Rogue?"
"Just thinkin' of how ah worried before ah
introduced Magnus to you and told you we'd become an item. At least Kurt didn't
have that problem, he already was married to Amanda in all but name when he
finally found out you're his mom!"
In the distance Hope and Heloise are hugging.
But that is not how a girl would embrace a younger relative, Hope's body
language is different, as is that of the girl with her. What I see is a proud
mother congratulating her daughter on her graduation day. Right now it is Valerie who is in charge of
Heloise's body. I glance sideways at Rogue and Irene, they see it too. Rogue
catches my look; she moves up behind me
and puts her hand on my shoulder. "You okay, momma?"
"Why shouldn't I be?"
"Aren't you angry at us?" says Irene.
Because you tried to keep the knowledge that
Val had returned from me? "Oh dear no. It's old history. Your sister and I
already have talked about the matter, haven't we, Rogue?" It feels good to lean
back against her. "I may have had misgivings in the past, but on reflection it
was probably better this way. But maybe now it's finally time to take it out
into the open. Maybe now that I'm getting involved with Xi'an she no longer has
to worry because of me. And it is good she is here for Hope's graduation. I was
bit sorry when she couldn't come to yours, Reney."
But then something unexpected happens. Coming
out of her group hug, Hope starts, then picks the blue cap off Heloise's head.
Which is shaven entirely bald.
"What the--?" Irene is as surprised as Hope and
I.
Rogue already knew, though. "Yes, last Thursday
she suddenly up an' shaved her head. Ah reckon she did it cause it's something
Val would never do."
"It's a bit disconcerting, but I guess it is as
good a way as any of asserting who you are." It certainly makes it impossible
to overlook that she does not have a scar on her scalp at the place where
Valerie had one after the Shadow King sent her out to shoot me. "Are there
problems?"
"It's not always easy, but she manages. And if
difficulties should arise, Emma should be the best person to find out and deal
with them." Rogue has been supremely confident in Ms. Frost ever since she
helped her to learn to control her absorption power.
Then the bell for the assembly sounds and the
people still standing and sitting all over the Academy grounds get up and begin
to converge on the hall.
"You know, bald actually looks kinda good on
her," Irene ventures as Heloise, Hope and Harriet come nearer to us on their
way.
I take a closer look. "Yes, you're right. She
has a good kind of head for that style." It actually looks quite nice with the
slight stubble.
"Maybe you should tell her," says Rogue.
"I think that's exactly what I'm going to do.
But I'll wait until after the ceremony, when I can be sure she's herself
again."
FINIS
Notes:
This story was first
published in Westchester
Menshevik #78, an apazine produced for MZS-APA #175 (January 2003). The APA's homepage is
at http://users.ev1.net/~skullduggery/
The story of how
Mystique and Destiny first met is told in Message to a Grandchild, a story I wrote without reference to Chris Claremont's later
revelations about the two during his second run on the X-Men titles. In my
stories I made use of the idea that Nightcrawler is the son of Mystique
(biologically his father) and Destiny, which is what Chris Claremont originally
had planned for them according to information I found on the internet.
The Twilight Yet to Come timeline diverges from Marvel Comics' and
from the main timeline of the Tales of the Twilight Menshevik starting with the events related in X-Factor
#1; in this reality Scott and Madelyne
Pryor did not break up and the original five X-Men did not set up an
organization called X-Factor, Inc. Consequently, a number of later events
differ in great or small ways from those in the comics (e. g. it was the
X-Men's Gold Team consisting of Storm, Wolverine, Rogue, Iceman, Havok and
Psylocke who fought against the Adversary in Dallas and disappeared) and the
original timeline of the Tales of the Twilight Menshevik. However, the story of how Mystique and
Valerie Cooper fell in love is essentially the same as that told in A Year
in the Life and October 6: A Night 2
Remember, and the additions shown in
Raven's dreams in this story are pretty much the same as the corresponding
events in the main timeline.
The Meddlers were set
up as a more clandestine offshoot of the X-Men in 1998 when the main team
adopted a more public modus operandi (which involves a regular exchange of
members with the Avengers). They are usually led by Rogue and based in Snug
Valley. Their base incorporates Magneto's former secret hideout in the mountains
of West Virginia.
Valerie Cooper's
relatives in Hamburg were introduced in A Day's Work and Lights in the Dark. It was revealed in a throwaway comment
during Peter David's run on X-Factor that
Val's brother is an FBI agent who once investigated a murder of a young woman
found wrapped in plastic. Lola rennt went
on successful release abroad as Run, Lola, Run. So successful in fact, that the film was parodied in a Simpsons episode.
In my stories, the Human
Torch is married to Lyja, but finding themselves unable to have children, they
adopted a Skrull boy they encountered during their adventures.
The annual NATO
conference on superpowers was introduced in A Day's Work.
The double-speak in
the Christmas conversation between Rogue and Mystique should be clear to
readers of Ergo
Bibamus 3: Drink to Me Only With Thine Eyes.
The battle against the
Shadow King in Savannah happened because the Bobby Drake of The Iceman's Tale tried to save his wife and teammates by
traveling back in time. His further adventures and the events that led to them
can be found in that story.
Part of the story of
Charles Xavier's ancestors was first told in the opening of Oboro. Since I said his family originally came from Maastricht, I decided to
name the Catholic church where his family worshipped since the 17th century
after St. Servatius, who died in Maastricht (384 or 403 A.D.) and whose relics
are preserved in a shrine in St. Servatius' church in that city. He was the
last bishop of Tongeren, transferred his bishopric to Maastricht, from where it
later was transferred to Liθge. The 17th New York (Westchester Chasseurs) was
an actual unit of the American Civil War; they suffered heavy losses in the
Peninsular Campaign of 1862.
The fact that Cordelia
Frost is Emma Frost's daughter is revealed and explained in Between the Wood and Frozen Lake.
I read somewhere that The Germans is the one episode of Fawlty Towers that has not been dubbed into German. Maybe there really are too many Germans
with no sense of humor. *Sigh*
Destiny's quotations in the final dream scene are from Rudyard Kipling's
The Ballad of Boh
Da Thone.
Copyright Notes: Agni (Neal Shaara), Alpha Flight,
Angel (Warren Worthington III), Apocalypse, Attilan, Avengers, Gailyn Bailey,
Joey Bailey, Sara Grey Bailey, Beast (Hank McCoy), Bishop (Lucas Bishop), Blue
Area of the Moon, Belladonna Boudreaux, Brood, Brood Queen, Brotherhood of Evil
Mutants, Captain Britain (Brian Braddock), Sean Cassidy, Marlo Chandler, Lila
Cheney, Shanna Cho, Colossus (Piotr Rasputin), Valerie Cooper, Coy Leong,
Graydon Creed, Cyclops (Scott Summers), Dazzler (Alison Blaire), Department H,
Destiny (Irene Adler), Diablo, Doctor Doom (Victor von Doom), Excalibur,
Fantastic Four, Firestar (Angelica Jones Madrox), Trevor Fitzroy, Forge and his
Neutralizer, Freedom Force, Cordelia Frost, Nick Fury, Genosha, Jean Grey, Jed
Guthrie, Joshua Guthrie, Nga Coy Guthrie, Hammer Bay, Havok (Alex Summers),
Human Torch (Johnny Storm), Husk (Paige Guthrie), Iceman (Bobby Drake),
Inhumans, Shola Inkosi, Invisible Woman (Susan Storm Richards), Rick Jones,
Karma (Xi'an Coy Manh), Senator Robert Kelly, Latveria, Jean-Luc LeBeau, Legacy
Virus, Legion (David Charles Haller), Lilandra Neramani, Limbo (demonic),
Lockjaw, Longshot, Luna (Luna Maximoff), Moira MacTaggert, Madripoor, Magik
(Illyana Rasputina), Magneto (Magnus), Mandarin, Massachusetts Academy, Alicia
Masters, Maximus the Mad, Meggan (Meggan Braddock), Mister Fantastic (Reed
Richards), Moondragon (Heather Douglas), Moonstar (Danielle Moonstar), Ms.
Marvel (Carol Danvers), Muir Island, Mystique (Raven Darkh"lme), the Neo,
Nereel, New Mutants, Nightcrawler (Kurt Wagner), North Star Airways, Phoenix
(Dark Phoenix), Phoenix (Rachel Summers Chapman), Phoenix Force, Photon (Monica
Rambeau), Polaris (Lorna Dane), Power Pack, Professor X (Charles Xavier),
Madelyne Pryor-Summers, Psylocke (Elizabeth Braddock), Henry Pym, Pyro (St.
John Allerdyce), Quicksilver (Pietro Maximoff), Random, Franklin Richards,
Katie Power Richards, Valeria Richards, Rogue, Sabretooth (Victor Creed),
Savage Land, Scarlet Witch (Wanda Maximoff), Sentinels, Shadow King (Amahl
Farouk), Shaw Industries, She-Hulk (Jennifer Walters), Shi'ar, S.H.I.E.L.D.,
State University, Storm (Ororo Munroe), Strong Guy (Guido Carosella), Deborah
Summers, Nathan Summers, Philip Summers, Sunfire (Shiro Yoshida), Synch
(Everett Thomas), Techno-organic virus, Thieves' Guild, Trish Tilby, Tyger
Tiger (Jessan Hoan), Union Jack (Joe Chapman), Upstarts, Amanda Sefton Wagner, Wasp
(Janet Van Dyne Pym), White Queen (Emma Frost), Wyatt Wingfoot, Wolfsbane
(Rahne Sinclair Guthrie), Wolverine (Logan), Brian Xavier, Xavier Institute,
Xavier Mansion, Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, X-Factor, X-Men, Amiko
Yashida are (c) and TM Marvel Comics.
Audrey Horne Cooper, Dale Cooper, Benjamin
Horne, Sheriff Harry S. Truman, Twin Peaks are (c) David Lynch and Mark Frost.
Edna Tamzarian is (c) Fox.
Harriet Adler, MV Albatross, Ramon Alvarez, Emma Andreesen, Kerstin Andreesen,
Sarah Andreesen, Taryn Ashcroft, Cyrano Blaire, George Braddock, Cargofeeder Condor, Coy Leong's Chakra
identity, Kenneth Chapman, Charles Francis Xavier Foundation, Chance, Prudence
Cheney, Citrus Trader III and her
crew, Maggie Cloudstar, Heloise Cooper, Hope Cooper, Antonia Pia DaCosta, Nga
Guthrie's Dakini identity, Erbyk, Extinguishers, U. S. Fitzmaurice, Dr. Gunther
Fitzpatrick, Eudora Frost scholarships, Mary Grey, Jesse Guthrie, Moira
Guthrie, Hammonia (Sara Voss), Herbert, Lynn Judd, Jean-Baptiste LeBeau, Michael
Madrox, Candida Mayhew and parents, Benjamin McCoy, Deborah McCoy, Josephine
McCoy, Anita McQueen, Meddlers, Jed Guthrie's Muskrat identity, Nathan Summers'
Myrmidon identity, Overdrive (Irene Cooper), Maxine Pym, Vsevolod 'Volodya'
Rasputin, St. Servatius' Church (Salem Center), USCG vessel Sandpiper, Dunmaya Shaara, Rajinder
Shaara, Snug Valley, Z'rquon Storm, Chris Summers Jr., Ruth Summers, Summers
Breeze Airline, Oliver Thomas, Martha Tilby, Astrid Voss, Errol Wagner, Darlene
& Jody Whittier, Greer Wilson, Holling Wingfoot, Bronwen Worthington,
Warren Worthington IV, Henry Xavier, Isabella Xavier, Joseph Xavier, Michiel
Karelsz. Xavier, Saskia Cornelia Xavier nιe Xhonneux, Simon Bolivar Xavier,
Cornelis Adriaansz. Xhonneux, Eichi Yoshida, and the unnamed St. Pauli
supporters are (c) Tilman Stieve