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marysuevirus2024-03-15 09:59 am
ladydeathfaerie) wrote in marysuevirus2024-03-15 09:59 am
Among the Strong
Title: Among the Strong
Chapter Nine: Distractions
Fandom: the Marvel universe
Rating: 18 and up
Warnings: graphic violence, language, sex, dark themes, anything else i can toss in.
Disclaimer: the recognizable characters and places contained herein are the property of Marvel. i'm merely borrowing for the sake of entertainment. no money is being made from this venture. Haley belongs todazzledfirestar Morgan belongs toginevra Roxxy belongs tonanaeanaven Jehnna belongs to silverfox_chan and Dare belongs to me. the concept and title of The Mary Sue Virus are used with permission from dazzledfirestar .
Author's Notes: this is almost entirely Daz's fault. okay. so it really isn't. its actually almost 100% my fault. Daz just did a whole lot of encouraging. this fic is going to be kind of dark, so please keep that in mind while reading.
Among the Strong - the index
The cell phone in his pocket rang with an annoyingly sweet song that might have made him roll his eyes. Except Dee had picked it. Some pop band she liked that she said reminded her of him. He couldn't say that he agreed with her choice, but he wasn't going to change the ringtone. It would hurt her feelings. Ignoring the grin Duke had on his face, he dug into his pocket and tugged the cell phone free.
A glance at the small rectangle told him his eldest daughter was calling. A frown came at that. Dee should be in class. Not calling him. "You should be in history right now, girl. What're ya doin' calling me in the middle of a school day?" he asked by way of greeting.
Dee snorted on the other end of the line. "Some of our teachers seem to be missing in action. Classes got canceled, Da. Which you would know if you were here," she responded. The last came out with a giant serving of accusation heaped on top of it. Logan bit off his sigh and tried to ignore the headache that was already starting.
If there was one thing Dee was good at, it was acting exactly like her mother. That included her mother's ability to leave him with an aching head. Just three sentences into their conversation and he could already tell it was going to be a headache kind of exchange.
"Classes are canceled because some of our teachers are missing," she repeated. Slowly. As if she thought she was speaking to an idiot. "Just what the hell is going on, Da? And where the hell is Mum?"
For a moment, he considered taking her to task for her language. But the idea faded quickly. Because she'd take it in stride and then probably tell him to go fuck himself. Same as her mother would. So he let it slide and concentrated on the topic at hand. Someone had a big mouth, had blabbed around Dee. And his girl was like a dog with a bone when she wanted to know something. Better to give her what she wanted now. If not, she'd do her very best to make his life uncomfortable. "Yer ma went on a mission. There were some problems."
"What kind of problems?" Funny how such a small question could make him quake in his boots. He really didn't want to explain to Dee what had happened. He didn't want her to have to live with that kind of nightmare just yet. There would be plenty of that shit when she got older. She was going to follow in his and Dare's footsteps. He could already see the signs. He wasn't going to do anything to stop her if that's what she wanted. But there were some things he could do to keep her a child just a little longer. Sparing her nightmare fuel was one of those things.
"The mission went bad. Yer ma and most of her team are missin'," he began.
"Aunt Roxxy woke up finally," Dee interrupted. He could hear a faint touch of relief in the girl's voice.
"That's good to hear, Dee," he told her. He meant it. No doubt Henry had pulled a miracle out of thin air to make sure Roxxy came out of her encounter with the horsemen alive. "Tell her I'm glad she's okay."
"I will, Da. Where's Mum?"
He wanted to sigh, but he held on to it. Dee was sharp as hell and he knew she'd see it for the wordless admission it was. Then she'd demand the whole story. "We don't know, girl."
"What do you mean, you don't know? How can you not know?" It was an adult question, but he could hear faint traces of childish fear behind it. He understood. For all her adult talk and behavior, Dee was still a child. And she was as close to Dare as she could be. She damn near idolized her mother. Not knowing what was going on had to be hard on her. And he wished he could tell her more. He wished he could give her the whole story, But this one... He didn't even know what was going on. He damn well couldn't tell her that they had an idea who had her mom, but they didn't know where she was and what the son-of-bitch was doing to her.
"I mean I wasn't there when all the bad shit happened, Dee. I don't know," he told her. His tone was a touch sharper than he meant it to be. And she reacted accordingly.
"Why weren't you with Mum? She'd be here if you'd been with her!" Dee retorted. There might have been a hint of tears in her words. Just what he didn't want. He hated it when the women in his life cried. He'd always hated seeing Dare cry and he hated seeing Dee cry. It would be even worse if he had to listen to her cry and he wasn't there to comfort her.
"Because yer ma was comin' to find my sorry ass." His voice was gentle even if his words weren't. That gave her pause. He could damn well hear Dee's confusion on the other end of the line. He was no good with diplomacy so it was time to end the conversation before he could tell Dee anything he didn't want her to know. "Look, I know its scary and I know yer worried about yer ma. I promise ya there are people lookin' for her. We'll find her and we'll bring her home. You just gotta believe me."
There was a short pause, which was odd for his girl. And for some reason, that pause set his teeth on edge.
"I believe you, Da." Dee's voice was... different. It felt weightier. Those four words held a world of conviction to them. But her voice also felt... airier. He wasn't sure how she'd accomplished that. "Mum is coming home."
Logan frowned. The absolute conviction in both sentences should have been a relief for him. But there was something about them that had the fine hairs on his arms and at the back of his neck standing on end. "Dee?"
"But it won't be right away." Her voice was just wrong. Something was off.
"Dee?" His voice was a little sharper this time.
"Mum has further to go. And so much more to carry." That one sounded ominous. He didn't really know what to make of it. He might have tried to ask her what she was talking about, but she started speaking again and it was even freakier than her previous statement. "There is nothing in the desert but solitude and sand. When she returns, she will come home."
"What the hell does that mean, Dee?" he asked. There might have been confusion and concern in his voice. He was absolutely not looking at Duke, even though he knew the kid was staring at him like he'd sprouted a second and third head. "Dee?"
"They will all come home," she answered. "Two by two, they will return."
"What the fuck? Dee?" He was starting to panic. Just a little. The more she spoke, the more her voice took on an otherworldly quality. He didn't like what that might mean. Not at all. "Dee? Talk to me, girl. Tell me what's going on."
"They will come. Each will bear their own burden. To the doors of the school. They will all come home." There was certainty in her voice. Despite the fact that she didn't sound like herself at all and she was speaking in what amounted to riddles, there was certainty there. Each word, each syllable, was drowning in that certainty. It was enough to bring goose bumps up on his arms. "Mum and Uncle Remy. Aunt Haley and Uncle Scott. Aunt Morgan and -"
"DEE!" He nearly snarled her name into the phone. There was a moment of silence before he heard her give her version of a long-suffering sigh. That sound told him that whatever had been going on was over with and she was back to her normal self. It was something of a relief.
"You don't have to shout, Da. I'm listening to you," Dee responded. She sounded peevish. It reminded him of Dare and he had to quash the urge to ask her what she'd meant when she'd said her ma would be back. "Also, you need to come home. You should be with your kids."
"Dee's right," Duke interjected. It surprised Logan enough to look up at the other man. He'd almost forgotten Duke's presence at the table as he'd been silent the whole time. "You should be at home with your kids."
Logan shot him a glare. Looked like Duke had enhanced hearing going on. Which meant he'd no doubt heard the whole damn conversation. "Is that Uncle Duke?" Dee asked brightly. "Tell him I said hi!"
Logan frowned at that. It wasn't bad enough that she'd just called Scott Summers, one of the most anal retentive men Logan knew, Uncle Scott. And wasn't that going to leave scars just thinking about it? But now she'd called Duke her uncle, too. "You just callin' everyone that now?" Logan asked her. If there was annoyance in his voice, he didn't really care.
Dee didn't waste a second in giving him her answer. "Only if they've earned it." She meant it. Which meant she knew something about Summers he didn't. What the fuck was going on with his kid? His thoughts were interrupted by the faint snickering sound coming from across the table. He shot a glare at Duke, but it did nothing to curb the man's amusement.
"You need to come home, Da," Dee said, pulling him away from thoughts for a moment. "Liam is being a butthole and you're the only one who can make him behave."
"Dee," he began. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her he had to stay where he was and wait for Dare. But that died when he recalled the way she'd kept insisting that Dare would return at the school. Not out in the middle of the desert. Had it been anyone else telling him that, he'd have called it a load of shit and gone with his gut. A gut that told him to sit tight in the desert and wait. But his gut instinct didn't hold up against the knowledge in Dee's voice. It didn't stand a chance against whatever force had made itself home in her words. Logan heaved a sigh before glancing toward the window.
They'd come into town to restock the low supplies. And to grab a bite to eat in a small diner that was bright and cheery and welcoming. Outside, the streets were nearly empty. Only a few locals were out in the heat, most people holed up in their houses until the sun met the horizon. It wasn't much of a tourist attraction, but it had a small motel and the diner. Because it sat on the edge of Death Valley and people visited such places like it was some kind of badge of honor.
There was nothing here for him. A small voice at the back of his head said as much. Hell, hadn't he known it the moment he'd staggered out of that portal to find Roxxy on her back in the sand? "Da? When are you coming home?" Dee's voice this time was softer, holding more of the child she still was in it. Holding more of the fear and worry.
"Gimme a couple days, Dee," he told her. "Let me wrap things up here. "I'll be home tomorrow night. Day after at the latest."
"You promise?" she asked. For a moment, she sounded like the little girl she once had been, when he'd been the one to slay all the monsters that lived under her bed. She was older now and he couldn't slay the monster that scared her this time. But he could be there for her if she needed him.
"I promise. Now go. Even if there are no classes, that don't mean you can't study. And tell yer brother to behave himself or else." He intentionally left the threat vague. It would be enough.
"Thanks, Da. I love you!"
"Love you, too, Dee." He barely managed to get the words out before the girl had closed the connection. Logan frowned and tucked the phone back into his pocket. When he shifted his attention back to his surroundings, it was to find Duke watching him curiously. "What?" he demanded gruffly. His breakfast had gotten cold, but it didn't matter. He wasn't hungry anymore anyway. There was too much crowding his brain to allow him an appetite.
"Why aren't you home with your kids?" Duke asked. Logan didn't think he was imagining the hint of censure in the kid's voice. Even before Logan could open his mouth, the boy leveled a look on him that was too old for him. "Oh, I know the reason you gave me and Dee. You're out here, hoping against hope that the portal will open up and Dare will just walk on out of it. But that's not the real reason. What's the real reason?"
"Gettin' nosy there, ain't ya, kid?" Logan said in reply. But it was an absent kind of reply. His mind was stuck on his conversation with Dee. He'd been around long enough, been around enough people, to know when someone was spitting out lies and when they were telling the truth. Dee's words had felt strongly of the truth. But they'd felt of more than that and he was having a hard time with that.
"Why does it bother you that Dee calls people uncle?" he asked, once more going places Logan didn't want him to be. Logan glowered at him before letting his thoughts have free reign another time. Dee had said Dare had a burden to carry. That they all had their own burden to carry and it would be a long journey. That shit could mean anything. He knew Sinister was a geneticist. And he knew that the man had taken an interest in mutant families here and there. Scott had told him as much, once upon a time. So what if he'd chosen specific people to take? What if he'd had a plan in place before the portal had opened that first time?
For a moment, he saw the portal shimmering in the distance, saw the figures that stepped out of it. And his brain started giving him specifics that he'd seen but hadn't registered. Death, with milky pale skin and black hair. With a demon's eyes staring out of a painfully familiar face. With flames that had felt charged with energy as they'd passed him by.
An idea took root in his mind and refused to let go. What if...?
Dee's words tumbled around his head with the few things he knew for certain. When they stopped, he didn't like the picture they settled into. Especially since he was fairly certain that there was iron truth to the things Dee had said. Cryptic, but true. He was pretty sure he knew what that meant. Of all the times for this to happen, too. As if his life wasn't already in so much chaos. His hand slid into his pocket and retrieved the phone. The number was programmed in and all he had to do was find it and press a few buttons to make the call.
"Logan? This is unexpected. Is something the matter?" Xavier sounded tired. No doubt he'd been trying to figure out how to bring his people home. Logan almost felt bad to be adding problems to his pile. Almost.
"I ain't sure. I think Dee's comin' into her powers. She got all weird and cryptic with me on the phone a few minutes ago. It sounded almost like prophecy."
"Precognition? Not a power I would expect from her but it is possible." Charles sounded thoughtful for a moment. "You're certain she's coming into her powers?"
"As close to it as I can be. She was spouting weird shit about Dare and the others. Sayin' they'd be coming home, but on the doorstep and not in the desert. There was more, but I'd rather discuss it when I get back."
"And when will that be?" Xavier sounded almost amused. Logan wouldn't put it past the man to know exactly what was going on.
"Next couple of days. I gotta wrap shit up here first," he said.
"Very good. Contact me if anything comes up, Logan," Xavier said. He paused a moment before adding, in a milder tone, "We will get them back, Logan. All of them."
The line went dead and he tucked his cell phone back into his jeans. Funny how he was more assured by the words of his twelve year old daughter than an adult.
"So. About that uncle thing," Duke said, interrupting his train of thought. Logan glanced up at the boy to see he was wearing what Logan had learned was his 'dog with a bone' face. Well, shit.
~*~
The gym was as boring as their room. The training equipment was top of the line, but there was nothing on the walls to look at. There was no color to break up the monotony. Not even a plant here or there. It was nice to have a change of scenery, but when the options were a sterile room, a sterile gym, or a clear cage... Those choices tended to suck. Still, contemplating the plain-ass walls was far better than giving her brain even a second of free time. The last thing she wanted to do was let it dive right back into Remy's words and what they really meant.
She stole a glance his way, watching as he worked through a complex warm up routine that saw muscles bunch and flex. His moves were fluid and full of a grace she didn't think was entirely natural. There was a faint hint of facial hair on his chin and cheeks. It caught and held the light, flashing almost golden in the glow of the bulbs overhead. Sweat glistening on his skin, rolling in drops down his bare chest to soak into the waist of his shorts. Shorts that sat almost dangerously low on his hips. Goddamn it, she wanted to go lick the sweat off.
"You like what you see, cher?" The warm tones of his voice caught her by surprise. Her gaze jerked to his face to find that he was watching her with a knowing smile on his face. Shit. She didn't want him to see her thirsting after him like she was some undisciplined teenager. That ship had sailed a long time ago.
"Cocky," she shot back. There was nothing else to say. She'd been caught just outright staring. There was no hiding that. She turned back to the heavy bag before her and concentrated on it. The bag was her preferred method of training. Especially if Logan wasn't around. He was about the only one she physically sparred with simply because she'd been knocking people on their asses lately. Even Morgan had stopped sparring with her, citing the bruises as her main reason.
The bag could take the abuse and come back for more. And she needed to let off steam.
Turning her focus back to her training, she rolled her head and shoulders to loosen up her muscles. It was easy to swing back into a rhythm that saw her jabbing intently at the bag. There was something about the steady thump-thump-thump that set her at ease. That made it possible for her to clear her mind of... well, everything.
Because that was the problem, wasn't it? Thinking. Her mind had been in constant turmoil for the last week. Ever since Remy had thrown her down on the bed and gotten that stupid confession from her. Ever since he'd said he loved her and then he'd showed her he loved her. And she was sure he did. In his own way. But she'd be a fool to think that he was in love with her. People like him didn't fall in love with people like her. She just had to keep reminding herself of that and everything would be perfect.
"How `bout we spar, cher?" Remy's voice came from right behind her and the sound of it made something hot and lethal bubble up inside of her. She might have jabbed a little harder at the bag than usual in response.
"You want to spar with me?" she asked, forcing herself to appear calm. Inside, though, she was all nerves and need. Confessing her love to him, damn near baring her soul to him, had made things so much worse. Because she'd been able to hide it before. Now, just the sound of her name on his tongue did things to her that were probably illegal in over a dozen countries. Now she couldn't hide from it. Worse, she couldn't hide it from him. Fuck this whole mess of a situation.
Taking a second to breathe and focus, Dare turned to look at him with what she hoped was casual curiosity.
"You act like no one want to spar wit' you," he responded. A bead of sweat rolled slowly, tantalizingly, down his chest. That salty little bastard was doing it intentionally. To taunt her. To remind her that she wasn't supposed to look and she certainly shouldn't touch.
"They don't. Not anymore," she told him. When he gave her a puzzled look, she answered his unasked question. "I've spent so much time training with Logan that I put people on their ass. Morgan stopped sparring with me because I kept leaving bruises."
The statement was out before she could think about it. She wasn't sure how mentioning Morgan would affect him because she'd told him that she'd seen the horsemen take Morgan. He had to know, just as she did, that Morgan was trapped here somewhere with someone who was very much not Remy. Almost before she could stop herself, she went in search of the link. Of course she found nothing. As if Morgan had never existed. As if Faye hadn't been there for her during some of her worst days. It was disheartening. And it made her mad. It made her want to hit something. Made her want to break something. Made her want to break someone.
Remy's voice broke across the rising tide of anger. "We give it a try, hmm? I t'ink you be surprised."
Dare stared at him a moment, then shrugged a shoulder. To do nothing would give him reason to interrogate her again. Once had been enough. To accept his challenge was tantamount to suicide. She didn't need to give him any cause to touch her again. If he did, she'd be so fu -
"How `bout we make a bet?" he asked, cutting into her thoughts.
"What kind of a bet?" she asked warily. If he wanted to make a bet, she felt certain he thought he could win. But he hadn't sparred with her recently. Logan had told her she gave him a run for his money.
"You win de bet, you can have anyt'ing you want." It seemed harmless enough.
"Anything?" she asked, suspicion heavy in her voice. Remy offered her a smile and nodded his head.
"Anyt'ing." he agreed.
"And if you win?" she asked.
"I win, you gon' answer all my questions." Shit. Yeah. She was so fucked. Because that meant he would do anything to win the bet. If she decided to agree to it. But if she didn't agree, he'd know she was afraid of having him win. It was, quite literally, a no-win situation no matter what option she chose.
"Fine. We'll do this. And if I win, you're going to drop the questions. All of them."
Remy studied her face for several long seconds before a slow smile slid across his face. He nodded in agreement. "D'accord." He stepped back and motioned to the far end of the room, where he'd been working through his warm up routine. There were mats on the floor and it was obviously where he wanted to do this thing. This farce. She was so fucked. But there was no backing out now.
Dare followed him to the mats. She'd wrapped her hands before using the heavy bag and decided to leave them wrapped. Maybe it would spare her knuckles some bruising if she managed to land a blow. She had no delusions about her abilities. She was good. And she was sure that Logan hadn't lied to her about that. But this was Remy. And he didn't play fair. She didn't think he actually knew how.
She watched as he took his position in the center of one of the mats and simply stared at her. Drawing a breath, Dare closed the distance until she stood a few feet from him. She rolled her neck again, then settled into her ready position. When she was as prepared for him as she felt she could be, she gave a nod of her head and waited. Remy didn't disappoint.
He flowed forward, his movement all easy, fluid grace. One hand came at her. Not in a fist to punch. His hand was open and he was angling the side toward her. Shit. She'd forgotten about his martial arts ability. This contest was going to be over much faster than she'd originally thought.
Dare brought an arm up, slamming it into his just behind the wrist in order to knock his hand away. And then she brought the other arm up to do the same with his other hand. A leg swept out, forcing her to jump back out of range. There was a knowing grin on his face when she looked at him. Bastard. He was playing with her. And he was so much better at playing this game than she was.
She should have turned him down. She should have made it plain what kind of sparring they'd be doing. She should have done so many things differently. There was no point in lamenting her mistakes. She had to pay attention to the here and now. And the foot that was swinging toward her head. Dare ducked down and to the side. When she faced him again, the confidence in his smile was enough to set her teeth on edge.
There was no hope for it. She was going to have to cheat.
She offered him her own smile, then took a moment to run her tongue over her lips. The action took full hold of his attention. "So. We both know my team is here," she began, hoping that her words would be as distracting as her tongue. "Who do you think that prick paired them with? Who are they having hot monkey sex with as we speak?"
Remy blinked at her a moment, almost as if he was trying to parse what she said. Then the smile was back. It was accompanied by a soft chuckle. She didn't know if he was simply amused by her choice of words or if he'd already figured out what she was doing. He came at her again, one hand angling toward her chest. Dare ducked and spun, one foot coming up in an arc toward his shoulder. He caught it, gave it a tug, and spilled her backward onto her back.
The smile he gave her when she glared up at him was all smug satisfaction. "Why we sparrin' and not having hot monkey sex?" His voice was a low purr that rubbed places it shouldn't have been able to touch. Anger and frustration bubbled up.
Dare rolled backward and came to her feet, then lunged forward. He reacted almost instantly, his hands reaching for her. She changed course a second later and managed to slip past him. The foot she put in the center of his back sent him staggering forward. "You wanted to spar, Remy. So we're sparring."
"An' if I change my mind?" He turned to face her, a faint glow of approval in his eyes. She got the feeling that he'd be going for his staff if he had it on hand. Since he didn't, he threw a punch that she mostly avoided. It grazed her shoulder, a barely there touch of annoyance. Dare knocked the arm away with one of her own. Which she then threw forward, fist curled, and landed a punch against his shoulder.
"Too late," she informed him. He kicked out with a leg, forcing her to leap back." This is what you chose. Live with it. And you can't change what you want if you win, either."
"Why you so afraid of a few questions, cher?" he asked her, following her when she tried to put distance between the two of them.
"I'm not afraid of a few questions, Remy," she replied. Which was, for the most part, the absolute truth. She was afraid of telling him any more than she already had. Somehow, he was capable of sneaking past all of her safeguards and protections. She didn't like it one bit.
Any other thoughts were cut off when he just suddenly had a hold of one arm and she was going up and over his shoulder. She had enough functioning brain power to roll over his back. But she hit the mat hard and needed a moment to collect herself. Remy stood over her, grinning as if he thought she was done. So she reached out with one hand and curled it around his ankle, then she tugged. Hard. He went down while she got to her feet. And she was the one staring down at him with a grin. "Just trying to get me on my back again, I see. Hot monkey sex that interesting to you?"
"You makin' dis interesting," he commented as he gained his feet. She noticed he didn't answer her question. Time to try throwing him for another loop.
"Its pretty obvious that War is Haley's daughter. Her crystal form would suggest so," Dare said as she bounced on her feet. He wasn't moving yet. She wasn't sure that was a good thing. Because not moving meant planning. Which meant more work for her. "And the blasts she lets go... That's Summers. Which means Haley got paired off with Scott. Suppose they're having hot monkey sex right now? Suppose she screams his name every time he gets her off?"
Remy stared at her, as if that wasn't enough to unsettle him. So she upped it. "Did she scream for you when you fucked her, Rem?"
That question earned her a look and a punch. Dare ignored the look and blocked the punch easily. Maybe the question had come out sounding much cattier and pettier than she'd meant it to. "I wonder if he’s gone down on her yet”
"Why we talkin' about Summers makin' Haley scream? We should be talkin' about me makin' you scream, cher," he told her.
"But you've already shown me all your moves, Remy. We know how that goes," she returned. She made sure to make it sound like it wasn't a topic worth covering. "I'm just trying to ensure that Haley isn't going to be disappointed. I mean, everyone's seen Summers' muscles. But you've been in the locker room with him. Tell me that Haley's getting the entire package with those muscles. If you know what I mean."
"You too interested in Scott," he responded. It sounded as if he'd spoken almost absently. But Dare thought she heard something in the depths of his voice.
"Jealous, Remy?" she asked lightly. It wasn't a serious question. She wasn't the type of woman who sparked jealousy. Women like Morgan, who was petite and delicate, sparked jealousy. Women like Haley, who was tall and statuesque, sparked jealousy. Dare was just... Dare. Nothing special enough to write home about. Ignoring the way that thought made her feel, she flashed Remy a grin and propped a hand on her hip. "Be serious, Rem. Summers wouldn't look twice at me. As far as he's concerned, the only reason I'm on this earth is to make his life hell. He doesn't see a woman when he looks at me. He sees a pain in his ass."
"You talkin' too much," he told her.
"And you're taking too long to put me on the floor," she shot back. "I know. You're tired. That ego takes a lot of energy. You need a nap. Do we need to call it quits? If we do, that means I win."
He said nothing to that. But the look on his face suggested there was a not very nice response on the tip of his tongue. Dare just smiled at him and waited. And waited some more. He didn't move for several minutes. Something she did not like.
"Fine. You don't want to talk about Haley and Scott. Let's move on and figure out who the parents of Famine could be." Her words had barely left her mouth when she saw something in him relax. Just the tiniest bit. Interesting. Maybe he did really think she had some weird thing going for Summers. As if. "For a while there, I couldn't figure out who her parents are supposed to be. But I gave it some serious thought and I realized that Jehnna has to be her mother. Its there in the eyes and the hair. But Famine's father was a little trickier."
She brushed a few loose strands of hair back from her face as she continued to watch him. Remy didn't seem to be in a hurry, which had her worried. Because that meant he was planning something and she had no reason to believe it would be anything other than big. The only option she had was to keep pressing the issue and hope that it tripped him up somehow. "Its obvious he's there in the shape of her face and her eyes. But I was having a hard time picturing who else wears that face. So I went with powers. Who among the three teams are capable of producing a flame trail? Besides me, that is."
She paused, as if giving him a minute or two to think it over. If he had an answer, he didn't share with the class. Pity. She did like the sound of his voice. But something was going on behind those demon's eyes and she wasn't sure she was going to like it when it happened. And she had no doubt it would happen. If she could stall that something for as long as possible, she'd count it as a win.
"Two obvious choices. Berto or Sam. Berto would show in skin, hair, and eye color. He's all dark and charming and Latino. Famine wasn't any of those. Which leaves Sam. She's got his height and she wears most of his face. There's a little bit of Jehnna there. But its mostly Sam. Suppose sweet, angelic, innocent little Jehnna is thirsty for Sam? I mean, he seems her type. Young and eager. Handsome. Hard-bodied. Fast. He looks like he fills out his uniform pretty well."
The last sentence hadn't even finished echoing through the room when Remy threw himself toward her. Dare was in a ready position in the blink of an eye. But it wasn't enough when he was just suddenly in her personal space with a hand moving forward in an effort to slam her back and possibly off her feet. She dodged his blow, just barely, and came up with a fist that smacked dead into the center of his palm.
Remy's fingers curled over her fist even as his other hand took hold of her wrist and pulled her in close until the two of them were almost touching. She stared at him, took note of the knowing look in his eyes, and realized she was fucked. He'd played her because he'd known exactly what she'd been doing. He'd just been biding his time until a more opportune moment. "You talk to much, cher," he whispered right before his lips claimed hers.
Dear gods, it was a kiss meant to curl her toes and scramble her brains all at once. And it did its job. Too well. When he pulled back, she was gasping for breath and he hardly seemed winded. When his hold on her wrist loosened, she twisted out of his grasp and took a few stumbling steps back. His smile was damn near evil. She needed a new plan. Because talking about the girls wasn't getting her anywhere. She was in the middle of trying to find that new plan when he surprised her with a question.
"You t'ink Warren havin' dis much trouble with Morgan? Or you t'ink she don' fight de pheromones and fall into bed wit' him?" There was nothing in the question to hint at how he felt about the idea of Morgan and Warren together. And it was obvious that was who Sinister had paired Morgan with. The wings were a dead give-away. But his tone lacked any heat or jealousy. It was terribly conversational. And it stopped Dare dead in her tracks. Which allowed him to close in on her once more.
This time, he caught hold of her and dragged her close until they were pressed tightly together. Chest to thigh. There was no way to miss the solid length of his erection as it prodded her belly. Nor could she miss the heat that lived in his eyes. Eyes that were focused completely on her lips. If he kissed her again... She was done for. She'd give him everything he asked for and more. She couldn't give up.
"You t'ink he find dat spot on her neck dat make her whimper wit' need?" His voice was a breathy whisper in her ear, hot air ghosting over the shell of it before his lips and teeth found that spot just behind her ear, right under the hairline, that did weird things to her equilibrium. Even as she was telling herself that she had to get away from him, his hands were slipping around her waist so that he could cup her ass in both hands. "Maybe he grab her ass and squeeze while he grind her into him. Like this, hmmm?"
His hold on her cheeks tightened as he pressed her even closer to his body. The action did nothing other than press the length of his fully erect cock into her soft flesh. Need flashed through her the same way fire ran through a field of dry grass. It left her feeling scorched on the inside, hungry for the feel of his skin against hers. It left her dizzy with desire and...
Her brain came to a screeching halt as an idea slammed into her. Touch. Remy enjoyed touching. He had for as long as she'd known him. And he absolutely loved touching bare skin. Maybe she could throw him off again by taking her clothes off. Well, at least her tank and her shorts. Not that a sports bra and granny panties were very sexy and lust-inducing, but she'd have to make it work. Short of throwing dirty pick-up lines at him, it was the best idea she could come up with. All she had to do was enact it.
The first thing she had to do was slip out of his hold.
She put her hands against his chest, her palms tingling with the feel of his skin against her own. Dare gave him a look that she hoped was sultry and suggestive. She wasn't good at the whole cock tease act because it had never been a skill she'd needed. She might have thought she was doing okay based on the look Remy gave her, his eyes hooded and a smirk on his lips. But there were pheromones in the air and it was probably in response to that more than anything. She put those thoughts aside, she got to work trying to cheat the win away from him.
So very slowly, she sank to her knees. Her hands trailed down over the muscled expanse of his chest and the flat planes of his stomach. As she went, his hands were dragged up her back and he hadn't relaxed his hands enough to allow them to slide over her tank top. So it bunched under her armpits. Which was perfect. Just what she'd wanted to happen.
Dare slipped a finger between his flesh and the elastic waistband of his shorts and tugged. Just a tiny bit. She even leaned in and traced the tip of her tongue across the skin just above his shorts. She felt his muscles quiver in anticipation. Felt his hands curl into her tank top when she turned her face so that her cheek pressed against his abdomen. She rubbed her cheek against him, making sure that it dipped low enough to graze his erection. He muttered something under his breath, curled his fingers in until his nails scored the flesh on her back.
It took her less time than needed to take a breath to duck and pull away. There wasn't enough time for him to be surprised as she lifted her arms so that the tank slid up over her head to dangle from his fingers. His surprise lasted as long as it took for her to gain her feet and face him in her sports bra. She watched his eyes flick measuringly from her face to her chest to her stomach before returning to her face. His sly smile suggested he liked what he saw.
But then the smile disappeared and his gaze dipped lower again. And he stared. He even frowned a little. Dare wondered what had brought that look to his face. She glanced down, trying to figure out what had caught his attention. Her shorts had slid down her hips just a little bit. A fraction of an inch or so. But it was enough to expose the top edge of her underwear.
"You panties, Dare. Dey not black," Remy said. He sounded almost dumbfounded. As if this was some strange event.
Okay. So it was a strange event. Every single pair of panties she had back home was black. Every single bra, too. But here, in this place and at this very moment, her panties were not black. They were, in fact, a soft, pastel purple. Almost lilac in color. And Remy was staring right at them. Because her wearing colored underwear was apparently some kind of bizarre, unfathomable event. Fine. He wanted to act like a little color was a thing of amazement, she'd take advantage of it.
"No. They're not." She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts, then bent at the waist and tugged the garment down. She'd wanted to find some way to do this that was showy and flamboyant. But she wasn't a showy, flamboyant person and she didn't think she could pull off some weird acrobatic act where she did a series of back flips and worked her shorts off at the same time. So he was going to have to make due with a heavy-handed attempt.
When she had them off, she stood and gave him exactly one second to stare at the pastel cotton. Then she threw her shorts in his face and launched herself at him. It was dirty to do it this way, but he hadn't left her with any choice. So she hit him hard from a short distance away and used her momentum and her shoulder to drive him off his feet. His back hit the mats. She landed on top of him, pinning him with her arms and legs.
Remy lay beneath her for several seconds, simply staring up into her face with undisguised shock. Then his shoulders shook and laughter bubbled up his throat. "Okay, cher. You win. Gon' keep my questions to myself."
She gave him the hairy eyeball.
"I promise," he swore.
"Okay," she nodded, then shifted her position to release the hold she had on him.
"Now we get dat out of de way, how `bout we we go back to de conversation `bout hot monkey sex and see how loud I can make you scream." His voice was low and smooth, full of wicked intent. A second later, she was the one on her back and he was sitting on top of her. She got a quick view of his smile, then his mouth was on hers and his hands were very busy with her pale purple panties.
~*~
Damn, she was pretty. He had that thought every time he looked at her. And it had only gotten stronger in the month they'd been here. Jehnna seemed unaware of his stare, focused as she was on sifting through the albums that had been left on the shelf for them. So far, she'd set every one she'd touched aside. He didn't know if she had some criteria she was using to choose a record or if she was simply looking to see if there was one she wanted to listen to. He allowed himself the privilege of drinking in her beauty as she did so.
He knew he shouldn't do it. He had no right to stare at her so adoringly. So longingly. Truth was, he was pretty damn sure he'd already fallen for her. But she was Warren's wife and the mother of his children. He couldn't make a claim on her heart. He knew that rationally. But his heart was very strongly telling him he had just as much right to her love and affection as Warren did. More, maybe, because he was the one who held her when her spirits dipped low and she shed soft, quiet tears in the middle of the night. He was the one who told her that they'd be okay. He was the one who assured her they would go home.
He knew everything there was to know about her kids. They'd had long discussions about family where she'd gone on and on about every one of her kids. Their triumphs and their fears and things that they thought they'd hidden from the adults in their lives that she knew anyway. She talked about Warren and there was love and adoration in her voice. And longing. But she did so sparingly, as if she didn't want to hurt his feelings. Her consideration made him want her all the more. Made him love her all the more.
In return, he told her all about his family. The stupid things his siblings had done when they'd been growing up. How much he missed his ma and his brothers and sisters. He'd even told her stories about his team that had left her crying with laughter. They'd shared information about their lives with one another and had grown so much closer in the wake of doing so. Yes. He loved her. He didn't have any doubts about that.
What he did have was guilt. Guilt that he held such feelings for her when she was already pledged to someone else. Terrible guilt that made him hate himself a little. Because when this whole mess was said and done, when they went back to their lives at the school, things would go back to the way they had been. Wouldn't they?
That was hard to say. He'd had enough time to think about his encounter with the horsemen. He'd pretty much figured out that they were the product of members from the various teams. It was obvious that Sinister had held on to several of his friends and colleagues. So he knew what was going on here. And he knew that what was going to eventually happen would have repercussions among the X-Men. All of them. Would there be anything normal to go back to?
He glanced at Jehnna again. He didn't think she'd put it together yet. Which hurt his heart because he knew it would destroy her when she realized what was going to happen. He kind of felt like he should tell her. But he didn't want to be the one to leave that wound on her soul. He wanted to be the one who consoled her when she finally understood what Sinister's plan was. She wouldn't allow him to do so if he was the one who told her. Rock and a hard place.
He took a moment to wonder how his team was doing. He was pretty sure none of them were here. Where ever here was. Having had time to give it thought, he was almost positive he knew who was being held. Most of Jehnna's teammates were here. He felt it was a safe bet that Roxxy wasn't. None of the horsemen bore any resemblance to her. As for the men, he'd recognized Scott's power in War. Death had Remy's eyes. And Pestilence had a set of wings that rivaled Warren's. If he extrapolated the women based on things like looks, powers, and stature, he felt like he could name the parents of each of the horsemen. His own child was included in that.
A child. A girl. He and Jehnna were here to be used as progenitors for Apocalypse's new batch of horsemen. That knowledge filled him with a bunch of different emotions. Anger was first. Anger that he and his friends, his colleagues, would be used as little more than sperm donors and incubators. Anger that a child of his, that a child of any of theirs, would be groomed and used in such a way. Guilt that he would likely never know his child as anything other than a mindless soldier. An indiscriminate killer. Guilt that he wouldn't know his child at all. And sadness. Sadness because already knowing this was breaking his heart. What happened when Jehnna realized? Would she shatter and fall apart? He liked to think she was made of stronger stuff. He knew her friends were. He might not spend much time around them but he knew how capable they were. How focused they were. How resilient.
His gaze strayed to Jehnna again. She was smiling, her eyes alight with pleasure as she eyed the album in her hands. Apparently she'd found something she wanted to listen to. He wondered if the knowledge of what was to come would take that sparkle away. If it would leave her a hollowed-out husk of who she had been. The idea made his heart ache for her. He didn't want to see that happen. He wanted to hold her tight and protect her from it. He wanted to hold her and kiss her and touch her with reverent hands and tell her he loved her.
"This is one of my favorites," she said, turning to him with the album in her hands. He made sure she wouldn't see his thoughts and sadness in his eyes or on his face. Putting a smile one, Sam stared at the album with the critical intensity of a man who had completely lost his heart to the one holding the album. Because that was exactly who and what he was. "I'm going to put it on so we can listen to it together."
Jehnna rose from the love seat and moved to the record player. He watched as she slid the large black disc from its dust cover, then placed it on the record player. She turned it on before very carefully settling the needle on the outer edge. When she turned to him, her pleasure was a living thing. Even as the first notes started, she was moving to him to take his hands in hers. "Come on, Sam. Dance with me!" she insisted.
Her face glowed with joy. Her beauty called to him the same way her words did. Sam nodded his head and rose to his feet, then took hold of her and whirled her into a dance. And he let himself pretend that this was the first dance of the rest of their lives together.
He'd kick himself for it later.
Chapter Nine: Distractions
Fandom: the Marvel universe
Rating: 18 and up
Warnings: graphic violence, language, sex, dark themes, anything else i can toss in.
Disclaimer: the recognizable characters and places contained herein are the property of Marvel. i'm merely borrowing for the sake of entertainment. no money is being made from this venture. Haley belongs to
dazzledfirestar Morgan belongs toginevra Roxxy belongs tonanaeanaven Jehnna belongs to silverfox_chan and Dare belongs to me. the concept and title of The Mary Sue Virus are used with permission from dazzledfirestar . Author's Notes: this is almost entirely Daz's fault. okay. so it really isn't. its actually almost 100% my fault. Daz just did a whole lot of encouraging. this fic is going to be kind of dark, so please keep that in mind while reading.
Among the Strong - the index
The cell phone in his pocket rang with an annoyingly sweet song that might have made him roll his eyes. Except Dee had picked it. Some pop band she liked that she said reminded her of him. He couldn't say that he agreed with her choice, but he wasn't going to change the ringtone. It would hurt her feelings. Ignoring the grin Duke had on his face, he dug into his pocket and tugged the cell phone free.
A glance at the small rectangle told him his eldest daughter was calling. A frown came at that. Dee should be in class. Not calling him. "You should be in history right now, girl. What're ya doin' calling me in the middle of a school day?" he asked by way of greeting.
Dee snorted on the other end of the line. "Some of our teachers seem to be missing in action. Classes got canceled, Da. Which you would know if you were here," she responded. The last came out with a giant serving of accusation heaped on top of it. Logan bit off his sigh and tried to ignore the headache that was already starting.
If there was one thing Dee was good at, it was acting exactly like her mother. That included her mother's ability to leave him with an aching head. Just three sentences into their conversation and he could already tell it was going to be a headache kind of exchange.
"Classes are canceled because some of our teachers are missing," she repeated. Slowly. As if she thought she was speaking to an idiot. "Just what the hell is going on, Da? And where the hell is Mum?"
For a moment, he considered taking her to task for her language. But the idea faded quickly. Because she'd take it in stride and then probably tell him to go fuck himself. Same as her mother would. So he let it slide and concentrated on the topic at hand. Someone had a big mouth, had blabbed around Dee. And his girl was like a dog with a bone when she wanted to know something. Better to give her what she wanted now. If not, she'd do her very best to make his life uncomfortable. "Yer ma went on a mission. There were some problems."
"What kind of problems?" Funny how such a small question could make him quake in his boots. He really didn't want to explain to Dee what had happened. He didn't want her to have to live with that kind of nightmare just yet. There would be plenty of that shit when she got older. She was going to follow in his and Dare's footsteps. He could already see the signs. He wasn't going to do anything to stop her if that's what she wanted. But there were some things he could do to keep her a child just a little longer. Sparing her nightmare fuel was one of those things.
"The mission went bad. Yer ma and most of her team are missin'," he began.
"Aunt Roxxy woke up finally," Dee interrupted. He could hear a faint touch of relief in the girl's voice.
"That's good to hear, Dee," he told her. He meant it. No doubt Henry had pulled a miracle out of thin air to make sure Roxxy came out of her encounter with the horsemen alive. "Tell her I'm glad she's okay."
"I will, Da. Where's Mum?"
He wanted to sigh, but he held on to it. Dee was sharp as hell and he knew she'd see it for the wordless admission it was. Then she'd demand the whole story. "We don't know, girl."
"What do you mean, you don't know? How can you not know?" It was an adult question, but he could hear faint traces of childish fear behind it. He understood. For all her adult talk and behavior, Dee was still a child. And she was as close to Dare as she could be. She damn near idolized her mother. Not knowing what was going on had to be hard on her. And he wished he could tell her more. He wished he could give her the whole story, But this one... He didn't even know what was going on. He damn well couldn't tell her that they had an idea who had her mom, but they didn't know where she was and what the son-of-bitch was doing to her.
"I mean I wasn't there when all the bad shit happened, Dee. I don't know," he told her. His tone was a touch sharper than he meant it to be. And she reacted accordingly.
"Why weren't you with Mum? She'd be here if you'd been with her!" Dee retorted. There might have been a hint of tears in her words. Just what he didn't want. He hated it when the women in his life cried. He'd always hated seeing Dare cry and he hated seeing Dee cry. It would be even worse if he had to listen to her cry and he wasn't there to comfort her.
"Because yer ma was comin' to find my sorry ass." His voice was gentle even if his words weren't. That gave her pause. He could damn well hear Dee's confusion on the other end of the line. He was no good with diplomacy so it was time to end the conversation before he could tell Dee anything he didn't want her to know. "Look, I know its scary and I know yer worried about yer ma. I promise ya there are people lookin' for her. We'll find her and we'll bring her home. You just gotta believe me."
There was a short pause, which was odd for his girl. And for some reason, that pause set his teeth on edge.
"I believe you, Da." Dee's voice was... different. It felt weightier. Those four words held a world of conviction to them. But her voice also felt... airier. He wasn't sure how she'd accomplished that. "Mum is coming home."
Logan frowned. The absolute conviction in both sentences should have been a relief for him. But there was something about them that had the fine hairs on his arms and at the back of his neck standing on end. "Dee?"
"But it won't be right away." Her voice was just wrong. Something was off.
"Dee?" His voice was a little sharper this time.
"Mum has further to go. And so much more to carry." That one sounded ominous. He didn't really know what to make of it. He might have tried to ask her what she was talking about, but she started speaking again and it was even freakier than her previous statement. "There is nothing in the desert but solitude and sand. When she returns, she will come home."
"What the hell does that mean, Dee?" he asked. There might have been confusion and concern in his voice. He was absolutely not looking at Duke, even though he knew the kid was staring at him like he'd sprouted a second and third head. "Dee?"
"They will all come home," she answered. "Two by two, they will return."
"What the fuck? Dee?" He was starting to panic. Just a little. The more she spoke, the more her voice took on an otherworldly quality. He didn't like what that might mean. Not at all. "Dee? Talk to me, girl. Tell me what's going on."
"They will come. Each will bear their own burden. To the doors of the school. They will all come home." There was certainty in her voice. Despite the fact that she didn't sound like herself at all and she was speaking in what amounted to riddles, there was certainty there. Each word, each syllable, was drowning in that certainty. It was enough to bring goose bumps up on his arms. "Mum and Uncle Remy. Aunt Haley and Uncle Scott. Aunt Morgan and -"
"DEE!" He nearly snarled her name into the phone. There was a moment of silence before he heard her give her version of a long-suffering sigh. That sound told him that whatever had been going on was over with and she was back to her normal self. It was something of a relief.
"You don't have to shout, Da. I'm listening to you," Dee responded. She sounded peevish. It reminded him of Dare and he had to quash the urge to ask her what she'd meant when she'd said her ma would be back. "Also, you need to come home. You should be with your kids."
"Dee's right," Duke interjected. It surprised Logan enough to look up at the other man. He'd almost forgotten Duke's presence at the table as he'd been silent the whole time. "You should be at home with your kids."
Logan shot him a glare. Looked like Duke had enhanced hearing going on. Which meant he'd no doubt heard the whole damn conversation. "Is that Uncle Duke?" Dee asked brightly. "Tell him I said hi!"
Logan frowned at that. It wasn't bad enough that she'd just called Scott Summers, one of the most anal retentive men Logan knew, Uncle Scott. And wasn't that going to leave scars just thinking about it? But now she'd called Duke her uncle, too. "You just callin' everyone that now?" Logan asked her. If there was annoyance in his voice, he didn't really care.
Dee didn't waste a second in giving him her answer. "Only if they've earned it." She meant it. Which meant she knew something about Summers he didn't. What the fuck was going on with his kid? His thoughts were interrupted by the faint snickering sound coming from across the table. He shot a glare at Duke, but it did nothing to curb the man's amusement.
"You need to come home, Da," Dee said, pulling him away from thoughts for a moment. "Liam is being a butthole and you're the only one who can make him behave."
"Dee," he began. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her he had to stay where he was and wait for Dare. But that died when he recalled the way she'd kept insisting that Dare would return at the school. Not out in the middle of the desert. Had it been anyone else telling him that, he'd have called it a load of shit and gone with his gut. A gut that told him to sit tight in the desert and wait. But his gut instinct didn't hold up against the knowledge in Dee's voice. It didn't stand a chance against whatever force had made itself home in her words. Logan heaved a sigh before glancing toward the window.
They'd come into town to restock the low supplies. And to grab a bite to eat in a small diner that was bright and cheery and welcoming. Outside, the streets were nearly empty. Only a few locals were out in the heat, most people holed up in their houses until the sun met the horizon. It wasn't much of a tourist attraction, but it had a small motel and the diner. Because it sat on the edge of Death Valley and people visited such places like it was some kind of badge of honor.
There was nothing here for him. A small voice at the back of his head said as much. Hell, hadn't he known it the moment he'd staggered out of that portal to find Roxxy on her back in the sand? "Da? When are you coming home?" Dee's voice this time was softer, holding more of the child she still was in it. Holding more of the fear and worry.
"Gimme a couple days, Dee," he told her. "Let me wrap things up here. "I'll be home tomorrow night. Day after at the latest."
"You promise?" she asked. For a moment, she sounded like the little girl she once had been, when he'd been the one to slay all the monsters that lived under her bed. She was older now and he couldn't slay the monster that scared her this time. But he could be there for her if she needed him.
"I promise. Now go. Even if there are no classes, that don't mean you can't study. And tell yer brother to behave himself or else." He intentionally left the threat vague. It would be enough.
"Thanks, Da. I love you!"
"Love you, too, Dee." He barely managed to get the words out before the girl had closed the connection. Logan frowned and tucked the phone back into his pocket. When he shifted his attention back to his surroundings, it was to find Duke watching him curiously. "What?" he demanded gruffly. His breakfast had gotten cold, but it didn't matter. He wasn't hungry anymore anyway. There was too much crowding his brain to allow him an appetite.
"Why aren't you home with your kids?" Duke asked. Logan didn't think he was imagining the hint of censure in the kid's voice. Even before Logan could open his mouth, the boy leveled a look on him that was too old for him. "Oh, I know the reason you gave me and Dee. You're out here, hoping against hope that the portal will open up and Dare will just walk on out of it. But that's not the real reason. What's the real reason?"
"Gettin' nosy there, ain't ya, kid?" Logan said in reply. But it was an absent kind of reply. His mind was stuck on his conversation with Dee. He'd been around long enough, been around enough people, to know when someone was spitting out lies and when they were telling the truth. Dee's words had felt strongly of the truth. But they'd felt of more than that and he was having a hard time with that.
"Why does it bother you that Dee calls people uncle?" he asked, once more going places Logan didn't want him to be. Logan glowered at him before letting his thoughts have free reign another time. Dee had said Dare had a burden to carry. That they all had their own burden to carry and it would be a long journey. That shit could mean anything. He knew Sinister was a geneticist. And he knew that the man had taken an interest in mutant families here and there. Scott had told him as much, once upon a time. So what if he'd chosen specific people to take? What if he'd had a plan in place before the portal had opened that first time?
For a moment, he saw the portal shimmering in the distance, saw the figures that stepped out of it. And his brain started giving him specifics that he'd seen but hadn't registered. Death, with milky pale skin and black hair. With a demon's eyes staring out of a painfully familiar face. With flames that had felt charged with energy as they'd passed him by.
An idea took root in his mind and refused to let go. What if...?
Dee's words tumbled around his head with the few things he knew for certain. When they stopped, he didn't like the picture they settled into. Especially since he was fairly certain that there was iron truth to the things Dee had said. Cryptic, but true. He was pretty sure he knew what that meant. Of all the times for this to happen, too. As if his life wasn't already in so much chaos. His hand slid into his pocket and retrieved the phone. The number was programmed in and all he had to do was find it and press a few buttons to make the call.
"Logan? This is unexpected. Is something the matter?" Xavier sounded tired. No doubt he'd been trying to figure out how to bring his people home. Logan almost felt bad to be adding problems to his pile. Almost.
"I ain't sure. I think Dee's comin' into her powers. She got all weird and cryptic with me on the phone a few minutes ago. It sounded almost like prophecy."
"Precognition? Not a power I would expect from her but it is possible." Charles sounded thoughtful for a moment. "You're certain she's coming into her powers?"
"As close to it as I can be. She was spouting weird shit about Dare and the others. Sayin' they'd be coming home, but on the doorstep and not in the desert. There was more, but I'd rather discuss it when I get back."
"And when will that be?" Xavier sounded almost amused. Logan wouldn't put it past the man to know exactly what was going on.
"Next couple of days. I gotta wrap shit up here first," he said.
"Very good. Contact me if anything comes up, Logan," Xavier said. He paused a moment before adding, in a milder tone, "We will get them back, Logan. All of them."
The line went dead and he tucked his cell phone back into his jeans. Funny how he was more assured by the words of his twelve year old daughter than an adult.
"So. About that uncle thing," Duke said, interrupting his train of thought. Logan glanced up at the boy to see he was wearing what Logan had learned was his 'dog with a bone' face. Well, shit.
~*~
The gym was as boring as their room. The training equipment was top of the line, but there was nothing on the walls to look at. There was no color to break up the monotony. Not even a plant here or there. It was nice to have a change of scenery, but when the options were a sterile room, a sterile gym, or a clear cage... Those choices tended to suck. Still, contemplating the plain-ass walls was far better than giving her brain even a second of free time. The last thing she wanted to do was let it dive right back into Remy's words and what they really meant.
She stole a glance his way, watching as he worked through a complex warm up routine that saw muscles bunch and flex. His moves were fluid and full of a grace she didn't think was entirely natural. There was a faint hint of facial hair on his chin and cheeks. It caught and held the light, flashing almost golden in the glow of the bulbs overhead. Sweat glistening on his skin, rolling in drops down his bare chest to soak into the waist of his shorts. Shorts that sat almost dangerously low on his hips. Goddamn it, she wanted to go lick the sweat off.
"You like what you see, cher?" The warm tones of his voice caught her by surprise. Her gaze jerked to his face to find that he was watching her with a knowing smile on his face. Shit. She didn't want him to see her thirsting after him like she was some undisciplined teenager. That ship had sailed a long time ago.
"Cocky," she shot back. There was nothing else to say. She'd been caught just outright staring. There was no hiding that. She turned back to the heavy bag before her and concentrated on it. The bag was her preferred method of training. Especially if Logan wasn't around. He was about the only one she physically sparred with simply because she'd been knocking people on their asses lately. Even Morgan had stopped sparring with her, citing the bruises as her main reason.
The bag could take the abuse and come back for more. And she needed to let off steam.
Turning her focus back to her training, she rolled her head and shoulders to loosen up her muscles. It was easy to swing back into a rhythm that saw her jabbing intently at the bag. There was something about the steady thump-thump-thump that set her at ease. That made it possible for her to clear her mind of... well, everything.
Because that was the problem, wasn't it? Thinking. Her mind had been in constant turmoil for the last week. Ever since Remy had thrown her down on the bed and gotten that stupid confession from her. Ever since he'd said he loved her and then he'd showed her he loved her. And she was sure he did. In his own way. But she'd be a fool to think that he was in love with her. People like him didn't fall in love with people like her. She just had to keep reminding herself of that and everything would be perfect.
"How `bout we spar, cher?" Remy's voice came from right behind her and the sound of it made something hot and lethal bubble up inside of her. She might have jabbed a little harder at the bag than usual in response.
"You want to spar with me?" she asked, forcing herself to appear calm. Inside, though, she was all nerves and need. Confessing her love to him, damn near baring her soul to him, had made things so much worse. Because she'd been able to hide it before. Now, just the sound of her name on his tongue did things to her that were probably illegal in over a dozen countries. Now she couldn't hide from it. Worse, she couldn't hide it from him. Fuck this whole mess of a situation.
Taking a second to breathe and focus, Dare turned to look at him with what she hoped was casual curiosity.
"You act like no one want to spar wit' you," he responded. A bead of sweat rolled slowly, tantalizingly, down his chest. That salty little bastard was doing it intentionally. To taunt her. To remind her that she wasn't supposed to look and she certainly shouldn't touch.
"They don't. Not anymore," she told him. When he gave her a puzzled look, she answered his unasked question. "I've spent so much time training with Logan that I put people on their ass. Morgan stopped sparring with me because I kept leaving bruises."
The statement was out before she could think about it. She wasn't sure how mentioning Morgan would affect him because she'd told him that she'd seen the horsemen take Morgan. He had to know, just as she did, that Morgan was trapped here somewhere with someone who was very much not Remy. Almost before she could stop herself, she went in search of the link. Of course she found nothing. As if Morgan had never existed. As if Faye hadn't been there for her during some of her worst days. It was disheartening. And it made her mad. It made her want to hit something. Made her want to break something. Made her want to break someone.
Remy's voice broke across the rising tide of anger. "We give it a try, hmm? I t'ink you be surprised."
Dare stared at him a moment, then shrugged a shoulder. To do nothing would give him reason to interrogate her again. Once had been enough. To accept his challenge was tantamount to suicide. She didn't need to give him any cause to touch her again. If he did, she'd be so fu -
"How `bout we make a bet?" he asked, cutting into her thoughts.
"What kind of a bet?" she asked warily. If he wanted to make a bet, she felt certain he thought he could win. But he hadn't sparred with her recently. Logan had told her she gave him a run for his money.
"You win de bet, you can have anyt'ing you want." It seemed harmless enough.
"Anything?" she asked, suspicion heavy in her voice. Remy offered her a smile and nodded his head.
"Anyt'ing." he agreed.
"And if you win?" she asked.
"I win, you gon' answer all my questions." Shit. Yeah. She was so fucked. Because that meant he would do anything to win the bet. If she decided to agree to it. But if she didn't agree, he'd know she was afraid of having him win. It was, quite literally, a no-win situation no matter what option she chose.
"Fine. We'll do this. And if I win, you're going to drop the questions. All of them."
Remy studied her face for several long seconds before a slow smile slid across his face. He nodded in agreement. "D'accord." He stepped back and motioned to the far end of the room, where he'd been working through his warm up routine. There were mats on the floor and it was obviously where he wanted to do this thing. This farce. She was so fucked. But there was no backing out now.
Dare followed him to the mats. She'd wrapped her hands before using the heavy bag and decided to leave them wrapped. Maybe it would spare her knuckles some bruising if she managed to land a blow. She had no delusions about her abilities. She was good. And she was sure that Logan hadn't lied to her about that. But this was Remy. And he didn't play fair. She didn't think he actually knew how.
She watched as he took his position in the center of one of the mats and simply stared at her. Drawing a breath, Dare closed the distance until she stood a few feet from him. She rolled her neck again, then settled into her ready position. When she was as prepared for him as she felt she could be, she gave a nod of her head and waited. Remy didn't disappoint.
He flowed forward, his movement all easy, fluid grace. One hand came at her. Not in a fist to punch. His hand was open and he was angling the side toward her. Shit. She'd forgotten about his martial arts ability. This contest was going to be over much faster than she'd originally thought.
Dare brought an arm up, slamming it into his just behind the wrist in order to knock his hand away. And then she brought the other arm up to do the same with his other hand. A leg swept out, forcing her to jump back out of range. There was a knowing grin on his face when she looked at him. Bastard. He was playing with her. And he was so much better at playing this game than she was.
She should have turned him down. She should have made it plain what kind of sparring they'd be doing. She should have done so many things differently. There was no point in lamenting her mistakes. She had to pay attention to the here and now. And the foot that was swinging toward her head. Dare ducked down and to the side. When she faced him again, the confidence in his smile was enough to set her teeth on edge.
There was no hope for it. She was going to have to cheat.
She offered him her own smile, then took a moment to run her tongue over her lips. The action took full hold of his attention. "So. We both know my team is here," she began, hoping that her words would be as distracting as her tongue. "Who do you think that prick paired them with? Who are they having hot monkey sex with as we speak?"
Remy blinked at her a moment, almost as if he was trying to parse what she said. Then the smile was back. It was accompanied by a soft chuckle. She didn't know if he was simply amused by her choice of words or if he'd already figured out what she was doing. He came at her again, one hand angling toward her chest. Dare ducked and spun, one foot coming up in an arc toward his shoulder. He caught it, gave it a tug, and spilled her backward onto her back.
The smile he gave her when she glared up at him was all smug satisfaction. "Why we sparrin' and not having hot monkey sex?" His voice was a low purr that rubbed places it shouldn't have been able to touch. Anger and frustration bubbled up.
Dare rolled backward and came to her feet, then lunged forward. He reacted almost instantly, his hands reaching for her. She changed course a second later and managed to slip past him. The foot she put in the center of his back sent him staggering forward. "You wanted to spar, Remy. So we're sparring."
"An' if I change my mind?" He turned to face her, a faint glow of approval in his eyes. She got the feeling that he'd be going for his staff if he had it on hand. Since he didn't, he threw a punch that she mostly avoided. It grazed her shoulder, a barely there touch of annoyance. Dare knocked the arm away with one of her own. Which she then threw forward, fist curled, and landed a punch against his shoulder.
"Too late," she informed him. He kicked out with a leg, forcing her to leap back." This is what you chose. Live with it. And you can't change what you want if you win, either."
"Why you so afraid of a few questions, cher?" he asked her, following her when she tried to put distance between the two of them.
"I'm not afraid of a few questions, Remy," she replied. Which was, for the most part, the absolute truth. She was afraid of telling him any more than she already had. Somehow, he was capable of sneaking past all of her safeguards and protections. She didn't like it one bit.
Any other thoughts were cut off when he just suddenly had a hold of one arm and she was going up and over his shoulder. She had enough functioning brain power to roll over his back. But she hit the mat hard and needed a moment to collect herself. Remy stood over her, grinning as if he thought she was done. So she reached out with one hand and curled it around his ankle, then she tugged. Hard. He went down while she got to her feet. And she was the one staring down at him with a grin. "Just trying to get me on my back again, I see. Hot monkey sex that interesting to you?"
"You makin' dis interesting," he commented as he gained his feet. She noticed he didn't answer her question. Time to try throwing him for another loop.
"Its pretty obvious that War is Haley's daughter. Her crystal form would suggest so," Dare said as she bounced on her feet. He wasn't moving yet. She wasn't sure that was a good thing. Because not moving meant planning. Which meant more work for her. "And the blasts she lets go... That's Summers. Which means Haley got paired off with Scott. Suppose they're having hot monkey sex right now? Suppose she screams his name every time he gets her off?"
Remy stared at her, as if that wasn't enough to unsettle him. So she upped it. "Did she scream for you when you fucked her, Rem?"
That question earned her a look and a punch. Dare ignored the look and blocked the punch easily. Maybe the question had come out sounding much cattier and pettier than she'd meant it to. "I wonder if he’s gone down on her yet”
"Why we talkin' about Summers makin' Haley scream? We should be talkin' about me makin' you scream, cher," he told her.
"But you've already shown me all your moves, Remy. We know how that goes," she returned. She made sure to make it sound like it wasn't a topic worth covering. "I'm just trying to ensure that Haley isn't going to be disappointed. I mean, everyone's seen Summers' muscles. But you've been in the locker room with him. Tell me that Haley's getting the entire package with those muscles. If you know what I mean."
"You too interested in Scott," he responded. It sounded as if he'd spoken almost absently. But Dare thought she heard something in the depths of his voice.
"Jealous, Remy?" she asked lightly. It wasn't a serious question. She wasn't the type of woman who sparked jealousy. Women like Morgan, who was petite and delicate, sparked jealousy. Women like Haley, who was tall and statuesque, sparked jealousy. Dare was just... Dare. Nothing special enough to write home about. Ignoring the way that thought made her feel, she flashed Remy a grin and propped a hand on her hip. "Be serious, Rem. Summers wouldn't look twice at me. As far as he's concerned, the only reason I'm on this earth is to make his life hell. He doesn't see a woman when he looks at me. He sees a pain in his ass."
"You talkin' too much," he told her.
"And you're taking too long to put me on the floor," she shot back. "I know. You're tired. That ego takes a lot of energy. You need a nap. Do we need to call it quits? If we do, that means I win."
He said nothing to that. But the look on his face suggested there was a not very nice response on the tip of his tongue. Dare just smiled at him and waited. And waited some more. He didn't move for several minutes. Something she did not like.
"Fine. You don't want to talk about Haley and Scott. Let's move on and figure out who the parents of Famine could be." Her words had barely left her mouth when she saw something in him relax. Just the tiniest bit. Interesting. Maybe he did really think she had some weird thing going for Summers. As if. "For a while there, I couldn't figure out who her parents are supposed to be. But I gave it some serious thought and I realized that Jehnna has to be her mother. Its there in the eyes and the hair. But Famine's father was a little trickier."
She brushed a few loose strands of hair back from her face as she continued to watch him. Remy didn't seem to be in a hurry, which had her worried. Because that meant he was planning something and she had no reason to believe it would be anything other than big. The only option she had was to keep pressing the issue and hope that it tripped him up somehow. "Its obvious he's there in the shape of her face and her eyes. But I was having a hard time picturing who else wears that face. So I went with powers. Who among the three teams are capable of producing a flame trail? Besides me, that is."
She paused, as if giving him a minute or two to think it over. If he had an answer, he didn't share with the class. Pity. She did like the sound of his voice. But something was going on behind those demon's eyes and she wasn't sure she was going to like it when it happened. And she had no doubt it would happen. If she could stall that something for as long as possible, she'd count it as a win.
"Two obvious choices. Berto or Sam. Berto would show in skin, hair, and eye color. He's all dark and charming and Latino. Famine wasn't any of those. Which leaves Sam. She's got his height and she wears most of his face. There's a little bit of Jehnna there. But its mostly Sam. Suppose sweet, angelic, innocent little Jehnna is thirsty for Sam? I mean, he seems her type. Young and eager. Handsome. Hard-bodied. Fast. He looks like he fills out his uniform pretty well."
The last sentence hadn't even finished echoing through the room when Remy threw himself toward her. Dare was in a ready position in the blink of an eye. But it wasn't enough when he was just suddenly in her personal space with a hand moving forward in an effort to slam her back and possibly off her feet. She dodged his blow, just barely, and came up with a fist that smacked dead into the center of his palm.
Remy's fingers curled over her fist even as his other hand took hold of her wrist and pulled her in close until the two of them were almost touching. She stared at him, took note of the knowing look in his eyes, and realized she was fucked. He'd played her because he'd known exactly what she'd been doing. He'd just been biding his time until a more opportune moment. "You talk to much, cher," he whispered right before his lips claimed hers.
Dear gods, it was a kiss meant to curl her toes and scramble her brains all at once. And it did its job. Too well. When he pulled back, she was gasping for breath and he hardly seemed winded. When his hold on her wrist loosened, she twisted out of his grasp and took a few stumbling steps back. His smile was damn near evil. She needed a new plan. Because talking about the girls wasn't getting her anywhere. She was in the middle of trying to find that new plan when he surprised her with a question.
"You t'ink Warren havin' dis much trouble with Morgan? Or you t'ink she don' fight de pheromones and fall into bed wit' him?" There was nothing in the question to hint at how he felt about the idea of Morgan and Warren together. And it was obvious that was who Sinister had paired Morgan with. The wings were a dead give-away. But his tone lacked any heat or jealousy. It was terribly conversational. And it stopped Dare dead in her tracks. Which allowed him to close in on her once more.
This time, he caught hold of her and dragged her close until they were pressed tightly together. Chest to thigh. There was no way to miss the solid length of his erection as it prodded her belly. Nor could she miss the heat that lived in his eyes. Eyes that were focused completely on her lips. If he kissed her again... She was done for. She'd give him everything he asked for and more. She couldn't give up.
"You t'ink he find dat spot on her neck dat make her whimper wit' need?" His voice was a breathy whisper in her ear, hot air ghosting over the shell of it before his lips and teeth found that spot just behind her ear, right under the hairline, that did weird things to her equilibrium. Even as she was telling herself that she had to get away from him, his hands were slipping around her waist so that he could cup her ass in both hands. "Maybe he grab her ass and squeeze while he grind her into him. Like this, hmmm?"
His hold on her cheeks tightened as he pressed her even closer to his body. The action did nothing other than press the length of his fully erect cock into her soft flesh. Need flashed through her the same way fire ran through a field of dry grass. It left her feeling scorched on the inside, hungry for the feel of his skin against hers. It left her dizzy with desire and...
Her brain came to a screeching halt as an idea slammed into her. Touch. Remy enjoyed touching. He had for as long as she'd known him. And he absolutely loved touching bare skin. Maybe she could throw him off again by taking her clothes off. Well, at least her tank and her shorts. Not that a sports bra and granny panties were very sexy and lust-inducing, but she'd have to make it work. Short of throwing dirty pick-up lines at him, it was the best idea she could come up with. All she had to do was enact it.
The first thing she had to do was slip out of his hold.
She put her hands against his chest, her palms tingling with the feel of his skin against her own. Dare gave him a look that she hoped was sultry and suggestive. She wasn't good at the whole cock tease act because it had never been a skill she'd needed. She might have thought she was doing okay based on the look Remy gave her, his eyes hooded and a smirk on his lips. But there were pheromones in the air and it was probably in response to that more than anything. She put those thoughts aside, she got to work trying to cheat the win away from him.
So very slowly, she sank to her knees. Her hands trailed down over the muscled expanse of his chest and the flat planes of his stomach. As she went, his hands were dragged up her back and he hadn't relaxed his hands enough to allow them to slide over her tank top. So it bunched under her armpits. Which was perfect. Just what she'd wanted to happen.
Dare slipped a finger between his flesh and the elastic waistband of his shorts and tugged. Just a tiny bit. She even leaned in and traced the tip of her tongue across the skin just above his shorts. She felt his muscles quiver in anticipation. Felt his hands curl into her tank top when she turned her face so that her cheek pressed against his abdomen. She rubbed her cheek against him, making sure that it dipped low enough to graze his erection. He muttered something under his breath, curled his fingers in until his nails scored the flesh on her back.
It took her less time than needed to take a breath to duck and pull away. There wasn't enough time for him to be surprised as she lifted her arms so that the tank slid up over her head to dangle from his fingers. His surprise lasted as long as it took for her to gain her feet and face him in her sports bra. She watched his eyes flick measuringly from her face to her chest to her stomach before returning to her face. His sly smile suggested he liked what he saw.
But then the smile disappeared and his gaze dipped lower again. And he stared. He even frowned a little. Dare wondered what had brought that look to his face. She glanced down, trying to figure out what had caught his attention. Her shorts had slid down her hips just a little bit. A fraction of an inch or so. But it was enough to expose the top edge of her underwear.
"You panties, Dare. Dey not black," Remy said. He sounded almost dumbfounded. As if this was some strange event.
Okay. So it was a strange event. Every single pair of panties she had back home was black. Every single bra, too. But here, in this place and at this very moment, her panties were not black. They were, in fact, a soft, pastel purple. Almost lilac in color. And Remy was staring right at them. Because her wearing colored underwear was apparently some kind of bizarre, unfathomable event. Fine. He wanted to act like a little color was a thing of amazement, she'd take advantage of it.
"No. They're not." She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts, then bent at the waist and tugged the garment down. She'd wanted to find some way to do this that was showy and flamboyant. But she wasn't a showy, flamboyant person and she didn't think she could pull off some weird acrobatic act where she did a series of back flips and worked her shorts off at the same time. So he was going to have to make due with a heavy-handed attempt.
When she had them off, she stood and gave him exactly one second to stare at the pastel cotton. Then she threw her shorts in his face and launched herself at him. It was dirty to do it this way, but he hadn't left her with any choice. So she hit him hard from a short distance away and used her momentum and her shoulder to drive him off his feet. His back hit the mats. She landed on top of him, pinning him with her arms and legs.
Remy lay beneath her for several seconds, simply staring up into her face with undisguised shock. Then his shoulders shook and laughter bubbled up his throat. "Okay, cher. You win. Gon' keep my questions to myself."
She gave him the hairy eyeball.
"I promise," he swore.
"Okay," she nodded, then shifted her position to release the hold she had on him.
"Now we get dat out of de way, how `bout we we go back to de conversation `bout hot monkey sex and see how loud I can make you scream." His voice was low and smooth, full of wicked intent. A second later, she was the one on her back and he was sitting on top of her. She got a quick view of his smile, then his mouth was on hers and his hands were very busy with her pale purple panties.
~*~
Damn, she was pretty. He had that thought every time he looked at her. And it had only gotten stronger in the month they'd been here. Jehnna seemed unaware of his stare, focused as she was on sifting through the albums that had been left on the shelf for them. So far, she'd set every one she'd touched aside. He didn't know if she had some criteria she was using to choose a record or if she was simply looking to see if there was one she wanted to listen to. He allowed himself the privilege of drinking in her beauty as she did so.
He knew he shouldn't do it. He had no right to stare at her so adoringly. So longingly. Truth was, he was pretty damn sure he'd already fallen for her. But she was Warren's wife and the mother of his children. He couldn't make a claim on her heart. He knew that rationally. But his heart was very strongly telling him he had just as much right to her love and affection as Warren did. More, maybe, because he was the one who held her when her spirits dipped low and she shed soft, quiet tears in the middle of the night. He was the one who told her that they'd be okay. He was the one who assured her they would go home.
He knew everything there was to know about her kids. They'd had long discussions about family where she'd gone on and on about every one of her kids. Their triumphs and their fears and things that they thought they'd hidden from the adults in their lives that she knew anyway. She talked about Warren and there was love and adoration in her voice. And longing. But she did so sparingly, as if she didn't want to hurt his feelings. Her consideration made him want her all the more. Made him love her all the more.
In return, he told her all about his family. The stupid things his siblings had done when they'd been growing up. How much he missed his ma and his brothers and sisters. He'd even told her stories about his team that had left her crying with laughter. They'd shared information about their lives with one another and had grown so much closer in the wake of doing so. Yes. He loved her. He didn't have any doubts about that.
What he did have was guilt. Guilt that he held such feelings for her when she was already pledged to someone else. Terrible guilt that made him hate himself a little. Because when this whole mess was said and done, when they went back to their lives at the school, things would go back to the way they had been. Wouldn't they?
That was hard to say. He'd had enough time to think about his encounter with the horsemen. He'd pretty much figured out that they were the product of members from the various teams. It was obvious that Sinister had held on to several of his friends and colleagues. So he knew what was going on here. And he knew that what was going to eventually happen would have repercussions among the X-Men. All of them. Would there be anything normal to go back to?
He glanced at Jehnna again. He didn't think she'd put it together yet. Which hurt his heart because he knew it would destroy her when she realized what was going to happen. He kind of felt like he should tell her. But he didn't want to be the one to leave that wound on her soul. He wanted to be the one who consoled her when she finally understood what Sinister's plan was. She wouldn't allow him to do so if he was the one who told her. Rock and a hard place.
He took a moment to wonder how his team was doing. He was pretty sure none of them were here. Where ever here was. Having had time to give it thought, he was almost positive he knew who was being held. Most of Jehnna's teammates were here. He felt it was a safe bet that Roxxy wasn't. None of the horsemen bore any resemblance to her. As for the men, he'd recognized Scott's power in War. Death had Remy's eyes. And Pestilence had a set of wings that rivaled Warren's. If he extrapolated the women based on things like looks, powers, and stature, he felt like he could name the parents of each of the horsemen. His own child was included in that.
A child. A girl. He and Jehnna were here to be used as progenitors for Apocalypse's new batch of horsemen. That knowledge filled him with a bunch of different emotions. Anger was first. Anger that he and his friends, his colleagues, would be used as little more than sperm donors and incubators. Anger that a child of his, that a child of any of theirs, would be groomed and used in such a way. Guilt that he would likely never know his child as anything other than a mindless soldier. An indiscriminate killer. Guilt that he wouldn't know his child at all. And sadness. Sadness because already knowing this was breaking his heart. What happened when Jehnna realized? Would she shatter and fall apart? He liked to think she was made of stronger stuff. He knew her friends were. He might not spend much time around them but he knew how capable they were. How focused they were. How resilient.
His gaze strayed to Jehnna again. She was smiling, her eyes alight with pleasure as she eyed the album in her hands. Apparently she'd found something she wanted to listen to. He wondered if the knowledge of what was to come would take that sparkle away. If it would leave her a hollowed-out husk of who she had been. The idea made his heart ache for her. He didn't want to see that happen. He wanted to hold her tight and protect her from it. He wanted to hold her and kiss her and touch her with reverent hands and tell her he loved her.
"This is one of my favorites," she said, turning to him with the album in her hands. He made sure she wouldn't see his thoughts and sadness in his eyes or on his face. Putting a smile one, Sam stared at the album with the critical intensity of a man who had completely lost his heart to the one holding the album. Because that was exactly who and what he was. "I'm going to put it on so we can listen to it together."
Jehnna rose from the love seat and moved to the record player. He watched as she slid the large black disc from its dust cover, then placed it on the record player. She turned it on before very carefully settling the needle on the outer edge. When she turned to him, her pleasure was a living thing. Even as the first notes started, she was moving to him to take his hands in hers. "Come on, Sam. Dance with me!" she insisted.
Her face glowed with joy. Her beauty called to him the same way her words did. Sam nodded his head and rose to his feet, then took hold of her and whirled her into a dance. And he let himself pretend that this was the first dance of the rest of their lives together.
He'd kick himself for it later.