by paxnirvana
Rating: NC-17 Pairing: Shadowcat/Shatterstar, Rictor Archive: Ask first, it's only polite.Author's Note:Rating for a little violence, some swearing and grown-up stuff, as well as a liberal dose of sex. Due to my beta's suggestions for more detail, this is going to go to four parts rather than just three. . . sorry! Why yes, I do use betas sometimes. . . but not often. [Thanks bunches K - you know who you are!] And trust me, the sex is coming soon. . . *grin* 7/15/01
Disclaimer: The main characters and most of the references in this story belong to Marvel Comics. The others don't. But all three of the mains are in CHARACTER LIMBO right now anyway, so they probably won't mind the action here.
* * * * *
I've never felt this way
About anyone or anything
Tell me...What do I have to do
To make you want me?
But if I can't make you want me
What do I have to do?
To forget about you. . .- Stabbing Westward
Part III
The day was already warm, a clear Seattle late spring morning. Usually early morning clouds lingered, but this day had dawned sharp and bright in the rare and fantastic way that seemed to bring the towering, snowcapped Cascade Range to the east into sharp focus. To the south, glacier-covered and very volcanic Mt. Rainier loomed in the distance; ever-present reminder of the power of the earth slumbering beneath them all. Placid Lake Washington before it became a perfect foil on this calm morning to reflect the mountain's majestic beauty. To the west, the craggy Olympic Mountains with their lingering traces of snow seemed to be footed in Puget Sound itself, which glittered uncharacteristically blue-green in the morning light.
They had both risen early despite the late night, and she had reluctantly left a sharp-eyed and restless Shatterstar alone while she visited the physics lab just long enough to collect the last two day's lesson plans from the assistant. The other classes would be easy to catch up, but that one she didn't want to fall behind on. 'Star had inquired, first thing, about a place to work out in. She'd had to ask him to wait, sensing his disappointment. So when she returned, she wasn't too surprised to find him already warming up in her living room.
At least he hadn't broken anything - except maybe Moe's nerves, she thought in dazed fascination as she paused in the doorway once again. Staring at his sculpted form with sudden hunger. God, what a magnificent ass he had. Those shorts had never looked so good on her. He was big without the massive bulk of some; tall, yet compact and flexible. As he was currently demonstrating by wrapping his arms around his ankles while standing flat-footed. His long red-gold ponytail trailed on the wooden floor beyond him, an intent Moe watching it like a hawk.
"I wouldn't, Moe," Kitty said quietly, struggling between amusement and sheer terrified lust as she closed the door behind her, lowering her backpack to the floor. Why him? Why now? She had been largely immune to men since breaking up with that damned sarcastic Brit, Wisdom, choosing to nurse her damaged heart with solitude. Shatterstar turned his head enough so he could look at her past his own ankles. His tail of hair snaked across the floor with the motion, but Moe, caught, just sat up, furiously pretending she'd never even considered batting at his hair. 'Star, oblivious to the cat's dismay, gave her one of his small smiles, silver eyes gleaming.
"You have completed your errands?" he asked. Oh, he was just too appealing. Was there even a chance. . . she winced and shook her head at him in chagrin. Keep it light, Pryde, she scolded herself internally.
"I'm pretty flexible, so I know that's got to be slightly different bone and ligament structure in action, because that really looks like it hurts," she said, blowing out a breath in rueful appreciation. "And yeah, I got everything I needed to keep me from falling too far behind in lab. It's a tough one. It's a good thing my Fridays are pretty light. I'll just have to work harder later." He watched her blankly and she knew he had no real concept of her academic concerns. He was simply worried about his friend. She felt a pang of conscience. Which was ultimately more important, anyway?
Rather than standing up, he placed his hands flat on the floor in front of his feet, then uncurled, slowly and gracefully, drawing his feet up into the air. She swore she could see each vertebra slip smoothly into place along his spine as he lifted his legs high into a perfect handstand. The move had been executed flawlessly, all without a pause or a single wince. She struggled to keep her jaw from hitting the floor. What balance, what control, she goggled. He appeared to have near-total command over his body. He looked like an escapee from Cirque du Soleil. And the famous acrobatic circus would probably kill to have him in a show. She wondered idily if that would be a good job for him - if he was ever out of the mutant hero business like she was. It was even close to what he'd once done in Mojo's Arenas; performed for the entertainment of the masses. His performances there, however, had actually encompassed life and death, rather than just representing it symbolically in music and motion and athletic prowess.
He began to do a kind of vertical push-up, much to her amazement, the muscles in his arms and chest and shoulders rippling cleanly and easily under that cream-pale skin. She swallowed hard. And he wasn't even getting red in the face, she noted enviously.
"I understand that my presence here and Julio's situation is inconvenient for you, Shadowcat," he said gravely, while still upside down. "We will find some way to repay you." There wasn't even a hitch in his voice, as if he often carried out conversations this way. Moe had fled to the kitchen when he started his handstand, alarmed by his strange actions.
"It's okay, Star," she said, finally breaking the spell his body had cast over her and moving cautiously by him to drop down on the edge of the futon. Trying not to leer too obviously, but she just couldn't keep her gaze from drifting back to him. How could he hold that position for so long? "I'm feeling kind of guilty right now about being selfish, I guess. Ric's in trouble and here I am worrying about my labs. It's just that there isn't much we can do until tonight."
"I understand that we must wait until a more appropriate time," he said, his silver eyes flashing. "It is a pity that Caliban is not here. He would be able to lead us right to Julio and we would not have to wait."
"Yeah," Kitty said with a shiver, wrapping her arms around herself. "Caliban. Poor Cal." Then she shook herself. No use thinking about resources they didn't have, or regretting things long past.
"How 'bout we get out of here, 'Star? We can go get your stuff from the train station and wander by the boatyard later," she said in a rush. He sank toward the floor, then with a last big push, neatly flipped himself back onto his feet, landing lightly for someone of his size. He dragged his ponytail out of his way impatiently and gave her the first genuine, wholehearted smile she'd seen on his face. It made him seem suddenly young and accessible. Her heart leaped into her throat.
"Outside?" he said. "Is there a suitable place where we can spar? I would like to prepare for this evening's foray."
"We'll see," she said with a return smile. "First things first, okay?'
He whirled eagerly, looking around to find his boots.
"Big guy, do me a favor and put your jeans back on, huh? I don't want half the population of Seattle following us around," she said dryly. He threw a puzzled look at her over his shoulder.
She shrugged, struggling not to blush, "Trust me on this, okay?" Didn't he have any idea how gorgeous he was? Apparently not.
"As you say," he said agreeably, picking up his clothes and disappearing into the bathroom to change. She let out a sigh of mingled regret and relief as the door clicked closed behind him and turned to ready herself for another excursion.
* * * * *
More than an hour later, Shadowcat leaned against a marble pillar at King Street Station, the historic train station in the heart of downtown Seattle, arms folded over her chest, waiting for Shatterstar to emerge from the men's room. And guiltily replayed the image of him walking away from her over again in her mind. Such wonderful, tight jeans he wore. She sighed deeply, lost in appreciative contemplation.
It had taken some work, but she'd finally convinced him to leave one sword behind in her apartment. The other he'd slung low under the black vest, arranging it so the hilt was mostly concealed behind the fall of his hair yet still accessible. It was unthinkable that he go unarmed, as he'd repeatedly asserted. She felt like she'd won a major concession to get him to leave just the one behind. However, people in Seattle just didn't like it when you walked around obviously armed - and swords were unusual and attention-grabbing. She definitely didn't want to attract the attention of the police. The fact that Shatterstar would never draw his blade without appropriate cause wouldn't matter to them. So concealment was essential. His tattoo was distinctive enough. And his long pale red hair. And his well-developed body. She sighed deeply again. They'd been damn lucky to not have been spotted by someone from the syndicate already, she knew. How had he and Rictor managed to elude their foes for so long already? Shatterstar stuck out like a sore thumb wherever he went.
They'd come here to pick up the pack he'd stashed in a locker when he arrived in town, not get themselves captured.
"Yer a cute lil' thing. How 'bout a kiss, girly-girl?" The intruding voice was slurred and low. And right behind her. She spun warily. A raggedly dressed man with wild, matted hair was leering at her as he climbed unsteadily to his feet. How she had missed him there slumped in the corner behind her she had no idea. Okay, she admitted privately as she took a half-step back, she'd been distracted watching Shatterstar walk away from her. But really, she scolded herself in disgust, this guy smelled terrible, like sour sweat and rancid milk. She should have at least caught a whiff of him and parked herself somewhere else. The bum was bulky and belligerent, even if he was weaving on his feet.
Kitty stood still, not ready to provoke the man. A brawl with a wacked-out bum at a train station was one of the last things she wanted.
"I don't want any trouble here," she said quietly, careful not to meet his eyes directly. That could be seen as a challenge. Then she'd have to hurt him. And she really didn't want to attract attention.
"No trouble, little girlie, jus' a kiss for ol' Martin, huh?" the man leered, taking another staggering step toward her. Then, suddenly, the ragged man was jerked aside. Shatterstar loomed menacingly beside him. A leather pack now hung from one shoulder, but he had a hand clenched over the hidden hilt of his sword, his gaze narrow and dangerous. The tattoo over his eye looked like a splash of blood in the dim light of the station. A shiver went up her spine and she was heartily glad he was on her side.
"She does not care for your attentions," the big Mojoworlder said, his voice cold. "Leave." The drunk's eyes widened in shock, his gaze running up and down Shatterstar's impressively muscled form.
"H-hey, no p-problem, man," the drunk stuttered, raising his hands and backing away into the corner again. "Shee-it, you're a big 'un. Din't k-know she was yers, dude. S-sorry."
"You do not understand me, Earther. Leave this place. Go elsewhere." The bum couldn't look away from the big Mojoworlder's icy gaze, face paling with fear. Shatterstar's narrowed eyes glittered like the blade of a sword, sharp and fatal.
"I'm goin'!" the drunk said, staggering toward the exterior doors. Several nearby travelers looked on in admiration and relief, some nodding approvingly. One woman even clapped. Shatterstar seemed pleased by the attention, glancing over his shoulder as he relaxed his battle-ready pose with a subtly self-satisfied expression on his handsome face. An audience; she should have known.
"I'm impressed. No bloodshed," Kitty said moving to his side. He shot her an annoyed look.
"I would not sully my blades on such a one," he said with a shake of his head . "Za's Vid, why are such permitted to wander free?"
"That's a question with no easy answer, 'Star," she said with a heavy sigh. "C'mon, let's get to the bus, find some lunch, then check on the boatyard again."
* * * * *
Because it was the middle of the day, they approached the boatyard from an old railroad right-of-way that had been converted by the city into a rather lengthy bike trail that snaked around the north side of Lake Union and all the way back through the University District. Cyclists and rollerbladers zipped past them in both directions on the popular trail; several other walkers were also out enjoying the rare warm spring day. It made the perfect cover. And with their mutant signatures masked by her bracelets, they were hopefully invisible to their foes.
The fresh-bread scents wafting from a nearby commercial bakery made Kitty's stomach growl loudly with hunger as they walked down the hill toward the lake. Shatterstar glanced at her, brow raised in inquiry. She laughed, looking around the industrial-looking, semi-residential area. Near the water, Seattle was in a state of constant conflict between the marine industries that required access to the water, increasing recreational demands and the people that just had to have waterfront or water-view property. That led to an often uneasy mix of commercial, residential and heavy industry. But it also meant thriving neighborhood eateries sustained by worker's lunch hour custom. Sure enough, there was a small brightly painted café in a nearby storefront that looked funky and fairly clean. She nodded toward it.
"Hungry, I guess," she said, ruefully. "Want to grab a bite to eat after we check out the boatyard?"
"I am also hungry - when am I not?" he said, smiling tentatively back at her. She grinned at him, unaccountably delighted by his mild teasing, then turned around to survey their goal. Her mouth opened briefly in shock. She snapped it back closed and stared in dismay at the empty boatyard. No 'Red Star'. Beside her, Shatterstar was suddenly rigid with tension.
"Where the hell did the boat go?" she mumbled, horrified. Had they completed their work on it launched and sailed already? With Rictor still a prisoner? She couldn't look over at Shatterstar right then, instead she looked carefully around the boatyard. Nope, the big black and red fishing vessel was still gone, no matter how many times she blinked. The metal drydock that had supported it on land only last night loomed mockingly empty near the edge of the lake. Trees and low buildings partially obscured their view of the lakefront. Hope surged in her as she grabbed 'Star's arm and dragged him further down the bike path, looking for a better vantage point from the raised trail. He didn't say a word as she stopped suddenly, relief flooding her. Almost screwed this up royally, Pryde, she thought, her heart still pounding wildly in her chest.
"There it is," she sighed in relief, only then daring to look over at Shatterstar. "They just put it in the water. It's tied up to the dock." His expression was still grim and worried, staring at the ship as if afraid it would set sail if he took his gaze off of it.
"They are readying it to depart," he said, watching the activity around the dock closely. She watched for a moment too. Boxes, crates going in; men swarming under the crane doing the loading and passing between the dock and the opened holds on deck. Yup. Trouble.
"Looks like it," she said, chewing on her lip anxiously. "I'd better go down there and check, see if I can find out when it's due to sail."
"I will come with you," he said, silver gaze intent. She shook her head, tugging on his arm again and leading him back up the bike path. A passing cyclist swore at them as he was forced to dodge around them. She ignored him.
"No, I do recon like nobody else - why do you think my code-name is Shadowcat?" she said, finding a trio of large boulders set near the edge of the path to keep cars from running up onto the temptingly open trail from the nearby street. She pushed him down onto one, her hands braced hard on his shoulders. He was tense under her touch, obviously seconds away from sprinting down and taking the battle to their enemies. "You wait here, Gaveedra."
Her use of his personal name snapped his attention back to her. He shook his head urgently, long tail of ginger hair dancing behind him. She leaned closer to him, brown gaze locked to silver.
"Let me do what I do best," she said softly, trying not to drown in the molten depths of his eyes. He was obviously very concerned about Rictor. How concerned? What exactly were his feelings for his friend Julio? And why did it suddenly matter so much to her? "If something goes wrong, then you can come slashing in and get us out. But please, 'Star, wait here."
After a long, breathless moment spent searching her gaze, he nodded reluctant agreement.
* * * * *
Shatterstar watched as Shadowcat made her way down from the trail, disappearing between cars and bushes along the way until she appeared near the entrance of the shipyard. She was really quite short, even for a human, yet she moved with surprising grace and speed. He was glad fate or the gods of programming had allowed them to encounter each other. She'd surely kept him from recklessly endangering Julio's life more than once now.
It was hard, however, to control the instinctive urge to just leap into battle. Especially where his friend was concerned. But he knew she was right. So he watched as she sauntered casually up to where a few rough-looking men - workers from the yard itself, apparently - were seated on the beds of trucks parked outside the shipyard, eating meals out in the afternoon sunshine.
After hailing them with a broad wave of her hand toward the boatyard, she talked easily with the strange men, her posture somehow more fluid and provocative than he was used to. He stared as she braced her hands slender hips, bent a long leg gracefully. She threw her head back once and laughed brightly, her short hair dancing around her head. He could tell that the men were more interested in ogling her slender body than in her words. And he, warrior born, could no more look away from her than the human men below. A strange tremor seized him. Why didn't she behave that way around him? And what if the men threatened her?
Shatterstar tensed as one of the bigger men leaped down from his seat and walked up to her, looking down at her from close up. The human towered over Shadowcat. But she just laughed at whatever he said to her, reached up and tapped a teasing finger against his nose once before turning away with a flip of her head and a cheerful wave. The man stared after her, dazed for a moment, then laughed out loud shaking his head. His companions laughed along with him as they watched her walk away, elbowing each other in a friendly fashion.
She continued down the street, past the shipyard and down a few blocks before turning up a side street toward the raised trail. He rose to his feet and started down the trail in the same direction, intent on intercepting her. He would not leave her alone any longer, in case one of the men she had spoken with decided to follow her. He was soon rewarded with the sight of her dark hair and jaunty step as she came toward him at a brisk walk. A warm, amused smile crossed her face when she saw him approaching.
"Couldn't sit still any longer, hmmm?" she said lightly as she walked up to him, wound her arm around his and bent her head toward him, laying it against his biceps, for all the world making them look just like any of the other young human couples wandering down the path together. A good cover ploy, he realized, but his heart still stuttered strangely in his chest.
"5 o'clock," she said quietly. "They're trying to sail by 5 o'clock. It's just after one now. We have to go back to my place, 'Star - there's a few things we need to pick up before we go in."
Julio. So close. He stared over his shoulder at the black and red boat for a long moment, fearful for his friend, then slowly nodded his agreement. By his swords, they would be back soon, he promised silently. Then he turned his attention back to the woman clinging to his arm.
* * * * *
There was a strange scuffing sound on the far side of his cell and Julio Richter lifted his head groggily off the hard mattress, still exhausted from the beating his captors had given him the other day. His ribs ached and it hurt to draw a deep breath, but he didn't think any of them were broken. He blinked in confused surprise to see a vaguely familiar young woman dressed all in black standing inside the closed door.
"J.E.?" she said, a look of pained concern crossing her obscured face. He guessed they'd hit him in the face a few too many times. Must look bad. Then the use of the initials he'd once gone by made him groan as he suddenly recognized her. It probably helped that she'd also tugged down the scarf to reveal her whole face.
"Shadowcat?" Blinking in confusion at her. Kitty Pryde. What was she doing here? She'd cut off all her long hair. The new style made her look pixie-ish. And she wasn't wearing a uniform. Just regular street clothes with a plain black scarf tied over her face as a makeshift mask.
"Yep," she said, moving toward him, eyes narrowed as she assessed his restraints. Her expression hardened as she examined the Genoshan collar around his neck. "Man, I hate these things - hold on, Ric."
She passed her phased hand through the collar, somehow shorting it out and making it pop open. He gave a sigh of relief as it fell away. Then she turned her attention to his wrist restraints. They were mechanical rather than electronic and he wondered, vaugely, what she could do about them.
"Where's 'Star?" he asked, suddenly afraid for his friend. "Did you bring all the X-Men? Why don't I hear anything?"
"Easy, Rictor," she said soothingly. Then she phased the cuffs right off his arms, tossing them to the side in disgust. "Star's watching the hall outside. And it's just me. I'm not with the X-Men any more."
"What, did the Prof put Cable in charge of them too? That guy's enough to drive anyone to go solo." The joke was weak and didn't even garner a slight smile as she slipped her arm under his, helping him to stand. He was shaky, but he made it, only moaning a little at the strain on his ribs.
"No, Rogue and Gambit, actually. But that's not why I left. I retired," she shot him a concerned look as he sagged against her briefly, feeling dizzy. "You gonna make it, big guy?"
"Some bruisers used my ribs as a punching bag for a while, but otherwise I'm fine," he said through gritted teeth. "Let's just get out of here." She nodded her agreement, and guided him toward the door. She phased them both through the metal, the sensation odd, like passing through very heavy mist. They solidified in a wide corridor with several similar doors along it. It was dimly lit, as if they were conserving power. He saw a gleam of light off a long blade at the end of the hallway and turned toward it eagerly. Shadowcat turned the other way, scanning the corridor warily. He stepped away from her, feeling better now that he was free and out of that cell. And even better now that Shatterstar was near.
"'Star," he called, relieved. For some reason 'Star glanced at Shadowcat before him. The Mojoworlder's expression was, as always under battle conditions, cool and controlled. It took a moment before he finally gave him a short, welcoming nod. He could feel something in the air around his friend, something very unlike the normally unflappable Shatterstar - concern? Uncertainty? Tension? And not battle-tension either.
"There is still no activity from this direction, Shadowcat," 'Star said, his voice low, the mission first as always. Then he looked longer at Rictor and frowned. "Julio - you are injured."
"I'm okay, mi amigo," he said quietly, taken aback by the coolness of Shatterstar's tone.
"Let's get before they catch on, boys," Shadowcat said urgently. "Pretty certain that collar had monitoring on it."
"Julio, do you require assistance?" 'Star asked bruskly, gaze narrowed. He simply shook his head, ignoring the pain in his ribs for a new one starting around his heart. Shatterstar nodded his understanding and came toward them, glancing beyond at Shadowcat. She led them midway down the hallway to a ladder, rather than the stairs at the other end. She started up, moving swiftly. Gaveedra locked gazes with him briefly, the silver eyes strangely remote, before his gaze was drawn up to follow her departure, the expression in them softening inexplicably. Julio turned away, aching in more than body now, and began to climb the ladder to freedom, his friend following close behind him physically, but perhaps farther away in spirit than he'd ever been before.
* * * * *
Shadowcat poked her head cautiously through the companionway hatch at the top of the ladder, checking that the coast was clear before climbing quickly out into the door-lined hallway above.
They'd been amazingly lucky so far - Shatterstar had more skill than she'd expected at sneaking around. His senses were slightly sharper than her own. Nothing like Wolvie's, of course, but definitely out of human range. More than once, he'd kept them from discovery on the way down.
They had approached the Russian boat from the far side. 'Borrowing' a small dingy from a nearby marina, she had rowed them across to the relatively low stern of the massive boat. She rowed because Shatterstar didn't know how. It hadn't really surprised her to learn that. He was from a reality where huge sprawling cities covered the planet, making him a very urban creature. The 'low' back end of the high-prowed commercial fishing boat still loomed nearly a story over their heads, but dangling dock handling lines allowed them to climb easily aboard. She was doubly glad she'd found her gloves.
They had moved together through the ship, holding hands. Not frivously, but so she could phase them both through walls as necessary to avoid detection. In his free hand he held his sword. He moved with surprising silence for a man his size. If not for his hand in hers, and the occasional terse warning, she could almost have imagined she was alone.
The activity on the ship seemed centered on the dock side with the loading of supplies, and up in the high bridge above. Apparently final, critical repairs on the radar mast were under way, if her understanding of the mostly-profane Russian being shouted back and forth was correct. They slipped undetected inside the ship. She used her phasing ability to check rooms as they passed, swiftly deducing that Rictor would most likely be held deeper in the ship, in an out-of-the-way location. They descended two decks, checking along the way, but it didn't take too horribly long to find him.
The shock had come when she realized Rictor had been beaten recently. Anger flared, but she hid it well - they had to concentrate on getting him out of there. Rictor was moving slowly but steadily, favoring his ribs. Now, she crouched at the top of the companionway, attention focused on the hall around her.
From below came a sudden warning cry in Russian, swiftly cut off by the sound of rapid blows on flesh, the thump of falling bodies. Rictor lurched through the hatch, rolling aside with a hiss of pain. She scrambled hastily back to give him room. Then Shatterstar nearly catapulted through the opening behind him, hand reaching for a sheathed sword even as he rolled gracefully to his feet. One sword hissed free, gleaming savagely in the harsh light. She grabbed the hatch cover, slamming it down over the opening and dogging it tightly closed. There was no way to lock it, so she moved away with a low curse. But Shatterstar leaned over and tugged hard on the wheel, muscles bulging. Metal screeched in protest as he cranked it down with obviously super-human strength. The wheel even deformed slightly in his hand. She blinked at him in shock. She'd had no indicator of his true strength before this. The men below would need prybars and possibly a cutting torch to get that hatch open now.
"The collar was alarmed," Shatterstar confirmed tightly at her raised-brow glance. "There were three of them - one ran to gather reinforcements before I could dispatch him."
"Flamin' hell," she muttered, reverting back to one of Wolverine's favorite phrases, and glanced with concern at Rictor as he climbed slowly to his feet, clutching his ribs in obvious pain. His split lip was bleeding again too. He wiped at it with the back of his hand smearing blood over his grim face.
"Okay, Ric?" she asked, concerned. His gaze wandered to Shatterstar, who had stalked down the corridor, casting wary glances at the closed doors lining it. The red-haired man took up a defensive stance near the T-junction ahead, listening closely for signs of approaching enemies.
"Yeah, let's go," Rictor grunted, a strange expression passing over his face as he nodded toward the Mojoworlder. She gave him a quick smile, gesturing him on. He moved with decent speed; obviously not up to much fighting but too proud to ask for assistance. They'd have to watch out for him. She traded quick, concerned glances with Shatterstar.
"I've got the rear," she said, quietly. Then she heard the sound of running feet and two rough-looking men charged around the corner behind her. She met the first with a spin kick, knocking him back so that his companion could take him out with the crowbar that was aimed for her head. She was briefly thankful that they apparently hadn't had either time or resources to pick up guns - ricochets would be a nasty hazard in the narrow metal hallway. The first man dropped like a rock, howling and clutching his broken shoulder. She leaped for the second man while he was still off balance from the strike, phasing through him to get behind him and level him with a kick to the back of the knee. Then she put him down with an elbow slam to the back of his head. He stayed down. The first man was rolling on the floor in pain, no threat. She looked back at her companions, panting slightly, poised in battle-ready position.
Rictor had braced himself against the wall, watching her with eyes wide. Shatterstar was halfway back down the corridor, obviously coming to her aid, but had stopped; admiration and pleasure gleamed in his silver eyes.
"Well done," was all he said before turning around and heading back to the other junction that lead toward the rear of the boat.
Rictor blinked at her, then levered himself away from the wall with a stifled groan, "Nasty moves, 'Cat. Sure you're retired?"
She rolled her eyes at him as she tugged the scarf back over her face and followed behind him as he stumbled after Shatterstar.
* * * * *
Pursuit temporarily avoided, Shadowcat leaned against one side of a corridor on the main deck, gaze locked with Shatterstar's where he was pressed to the opposite wall, both swords now gleaming in his hands. Rictor leaned beside him bent over slightly, arm pressed to his ribs, panting softly.
"We have to go across the dock," she said quietly, "Ric can't climb down a rope to the rowboat. Besides I don't want them shooting at us in the water."
"Agreed," Shatterstar said, his gaze flicking with increasing concern to his friend beside him. Ric glared up at him from under tumbled dark brown hair, a disgusted look on his face.
"I'm just hurting, I'm not dead. I'll pull my weight," he said sharply. A dubious expression crossed her face, but she hid it from the proud Rictor by glancing outside again. The rear deck was still suspiciously clear of adversaries, but they had little choice but to risk it, since waiting around would just bring more trouble.
"Let's go," she said, phasing automatically before she raced out along the wall. She could hear them following close behind her. Her attention focused on the dock side of the boat and the gangway fastened to it, she barely registered the muted roar of maneuvering jets. Until an energy beam passed close by, searing the wall beside her.
Behind her, she heard a masculine shout in a language she wasn't familiar with, then a strange crackling blast. She whirled to see Shatterstar twisting through the air, swords extended, and a sparking Mandroid plunging toward the ship's deck. The boat lurched wildly when the Mandroid crashed into the deck. Shatterstar rolled gracefully across the plunging deck and back onto his feet, scarcely breaking stride, a grimace of pain on his face. Rictor staggered along behind him.
"'Star, another one coming in!" Rictor cried in alarm.
The second unit was flanked by a third. Apparently the syndicate hadn't had time to repair the units Shatterstar had damaged on their previous encounter because they weren't buried under a pile of them already. Kitty braced herself when she heard a mechanical sound behind her, phasing automatically. Heavy armored arms passed harmlessly through her and she allowed herself to fall back into the suit that had come up behind her, hearing the satisfying spark and sizzle as the unit shorted under the influence of her mutant power. The suit ground to a halt.
The entire fishing boat shook hard then, rattling and shuddering sickeningly. Rictor. Shatterstar had dodged the energy blasts of one Mandroid unit, lining the two remaining power suits up. Rictor wound his hands together, pointing his forefingers out like a kid playing cops-n-robbers, focusing his mutant ability to cause siesmic vibrations down the length of his arms and toward the decking under the two remaining suits. Metal shrieked and buckled in the area under them, the suits themselves shuddering under the incredible stress, boot jets cracked open, fuel and flame spurting around wildly. The deck yawned open then, metal tearing like paper from the force of Rictor's ability, and the last two Mandroids disappeared into the hold below. Men were shouting and screaming from the bridge above them in anger and fear. Shatterstar ran to Rictor's side, sheathing his swords with uncanny agility as he came. Rictor stumbled and would have fallen, - drained by the effort of using his mutant power in his weakened state - if Shatterstar hadn't caught him, expression worried.
Kitty looked around, checking for further resistance. Dockworkers, crew and hired goons alike seemed to have fled before Rictor's terrifying demonstration of mutant power. Waving Shatterstar toward her, she ran down the gangway. The two men trailed along behind, a staggering Rictor practically being hauled along by 'Star.
After the Mandroids were defeated no one else in the shipyard tried to detain them. The regular workers had fled and she could hear the sound of police sirens in the distance. They needed some kind of transportation, since 'Star was supporting Julio more and more as the adrenaline of battle faded and the effects of his beating slowed him. With the police on the way, damaged Mandroids sparking and burning in the shipyard behind them and terrified dockworkers fleeing into the surrounding neighborhood with tales of hostile mutants on a rampage, she quickly concluded she would just have to break down and steal a car. What was grand theft auto after all that, anyway? And they weren't really stealing it, more like borrowing it.
She looked quickly around the shipyard's parking lot for a suitable vehicle, then spotted a flashy late-model Lexus SUV parked in front of the marina next door. Definitely big enough. And maybe it even belonged to the guy they'd stolen the rowboat from, she thought irreverently as she led the two men hastily toward it. She phased through the driver's door, bypassing the alarm system. After disabling it and unlocking all the doors from the inside, she used an electronic override device adapted from one of Forge's designs to start the ignition without the coded key. Not a usual car thief's tool, she had brought it along in case they encountered any locks that couldn't be affected by phasing. Like locks that defaulted to secured when power was disrupted.
The SUV's engine roared to life as Shatterstar helped Rictor carefully into the back seat.
"Strap in," she warned as she quickly backed the big vehicle out of the lot. Shatterstar tugged a seatbelt around himself, then simply put his feet up on the leather bench seat and braced Rictor between his own legs to keep him from being bounced around. Obviously not willing to risk further damage to his friend's ribs with a seatbelt, he held his friend securely, if carefully in his arms. Rictor moaned with pain, his face pale and strained.
She found herself watching them covertly in the rearview mirror as she drove away at a reasonable rate of speed. No sense drawing too much attention to themselves by speeding. The mirror showed her 'Star's solicitous concern for his friend; whispered words in his ear, a pale hand pressing a dark head to his chest, a strong arm gently surrounding Rictor's battered body. Her own heart grew heavier and heavier in her chest.
Kitty tugged the scarf impatiently off her face, not wanting to look suspicious to other drivers. Then she dug around in the small pouch at her waist one handed. She found, then tossed her extra suppressor bracelet back toward 'Star. With astounding reflexes, he caught it, meeting her gaze in the rear-view mirror sharply. Rictor moaned again as the movement jarred his ribs.
"Better put it on him and turn yours on too, 'Star," she said returning her attention to the road. "We didn't destroy their mutant tracking equipment."
"What's this, mi amigo?" Rictor groaned as Shatterstar nodded and slipped the bracelet on his friend's wrist. She turned her own bracelet on again, feeling the familiar slight dizzyness as the field activated but it swiftly passed.
"My version of a scan blocker," Kitty answered, glancing between the road and the mirror to see into the back seat. "It shuts your mutant power down so they can't find you."
"Like a collar?" Rictor spat suspiciously, glaring toward her.
"Kind of, but you've got control over it. And you can always break the damn thing off if you want," she said with a snort. "It's not permanent."
"It will be okay, Julio," Star said quietly, lifting his wrist and switching on his own bracelet. "I am wearing one too. It is for the best. You are in no condition to fight again."
"If you say so, mi amigo," Rictor said, lowering his head wearily against Shatterstar's chest. 'Star switched Rictor's bracelet on.
"Madre de Dios," Rictor spat, gritting his teeth, suddenly turning an alarming shade of pale green. "This is worse than a damn collar. . ."
"Oh, hell," Kitty said, suddenly alarmed. "'Star it might make him sick. . ."
But even as she said the words, Rictor clutched at his stomach, then moaning and leaning over he promptly threw up all over the floor behind her seat. Talking in a low soothing tone, Shatterstar stroked his friend's long brown hair back from his face and supported him as gently as he could through the short series of heaves that followed. The stench was incredible, but Kitty just gritted her teeth and powered all the windows down to let the bulk of the smell escape. She could hear Shatterstar speaking persuasively to Rictor, trying to convince him that the sensation would soon pass and that they needed the bracelets left on to keep them safe for now.
She concentrated fiercely on her driving, trying not to listen to the softly spoken words, now apparently in fluent Spanish, that Shatterstar was using to calm his friend. Now that all of the bracelets were activated, thereby eliminating their mutant signatures, it would force their opponents to track them using more conventional methods. Methods she was more than adequately trained to foil.
Police cars raced past them in the opposite direction, heading toward the shipyard behind them. None of the officers gave the Lexus they passed a second look.
Trying to hide her satisfaction at eluding official notice, she drove to the northern mall again. By the time they arrived there, most of Rictor's nausea had passed. The back of the SUV was a disgusting mess, however Shatterstar had somehow managed to keep both of them reasonably clean. Dropping the two men off at the main bus stop and requesting they wait for her to return, she drove off and parked the car in one of the vast parking lots outside the mall, taking a moment to spray down the doors and seats with a solution she'd been given by SHIELD that would contaminate any biological evidence they'd left behind so that it couldn't be used to track them. She abandoned the car with little regret or concern for the owner. Anyone wealthy enough to waste their money on a Lexus SUV deserved a little stress once and a while, she thought in disgust. But she was ruefully certain the stink would never come out of the leather interior. She hurried back to the bus stop, where 'Star was helping a dizzy and exhausted Rictor stand up.
Catching the first bus back to the University District, she took them to a cheap motel beside the nearby freeway, checking them in while Star helped the groggy Rictor into the lobby. The desk clerk didn't even blink at their disheveled and apparently drunken state. She had picked a junky place close to the university for a reason - hopefully less questions asked.
"Gettin' started early on the partyin' tonight aren't ya, kids?" was all the grizzled desk clerk had said as he took her cash and passed her a pair of keys. She'd thrown one to Star, who had caught it gracefully and led a staggering Rictor away before she was finished checking them in. The trip on the bus had sapped what little strength he had remaining.
She followed them up to the room hesitantly, not knowing if she'd be welcome. She knocked at the battered door, relieved when Shatterstar opened it promptly.
"Sha. . .Kitty," he said, his silver gaze betraying relief. "Can you get some bandages and medicines for Julio? I am concerned about his condition."
"Of course, Star," she said, looking beyond to see Rictor leaning against a wall nearby, a mutinous look on his bruised and battered face.
"No need to bother Kitty any more, Star," he said, his voice slurred by his split and no doubt painful lip. "A hot shower and a good night's sleep is all I need."
Shatterstar rolled his eyes at her. She gave him a weary grin in return.
"I will help you to the bath in a moment, Julio," he said patiently. Kitty nodded at him and stepped out, closing the door behind her.
Grateful for her understanding and continued assistance, Shatterstar turned to his friend, sighing deeply to see the marks on his face, the pain in his eyes. Then he assisted Julio into the bathroom. There, he ran a bath for him and helped him undress, despite his weak protests. Julio's ribs were reddened and bruised in several places but none were broken, he assured himself after a quick careful examination that still made his friend swear loudly in Spanish.
Once 'Star was done prodding him, Julio sank into the hot water with a grateful hiss, feeling the easing of his aches almost instantly. He lay in the water, looking up at the other man who had busied himself rinsing the blood and grime out of his clothes.
"Gaveedra," he said quietly, stopping briefly when Shatterstar turned to him, his silver eyes hooded. He changed his words mid-thought, "I just . . . thanks for the save, mi amigo."
"You are welcome, Julio," Shatterstar said quietly, returning to his self-imposed chore. And Julio Richter felt, somehow, that something very important had been lost in that instant, because of his hesitation. And he closed his eyes to keep the prickle from growing into real tears.
- - continued - -