Seasoned: Part 10

by Yezra

A/N: iceee babeee, I wrote the phone conversation just for you.

10

Dream a Little Dream of Me…

Cyke loosened his tie, and opened the refrigerator door to grab a beer. Everyone who was currently under the mansion's roof had attended a brief service for Warren in the city. He remained in the kitchen after Hank waved on his approval. The blue genius was on the phone, having a heated discussion with his 'girlfriend', though how much longer she held that status was probably dependant on how long the phone call lasted.

It had been a very small service. Despite Warren's vast wealth and the chance of inheritance, most people who knew him did not even bother to show up, as they were put off by the bad publicity from the riot. Or, more likely, they did not want to associate with his mutant friends. The twins attended, with Natalie too afraid to let go of Hank. People were staring at her brother… making comments and sneering.

Paul decided, with more than average gumption for a boy his age, that if he was to go out on public, he would not wear an image inducer. The young boy was more idealistic than even Professor Xavier. Beast tried to talk him out of it, only for reasons of safety, but he was committed. So they went to the service, with Paul and his beautiful orange presence looking even more handsome in a navy blue suit. Natalie opted to wear sunglasses. Her eyes were the only thing about her that was even remotely mutant in appearance, and she was too afraid to show even that.

So, by the time they got home, Hank had had enough. He asked Remy and Rogue, who was safely back from California, to take his young charges on a picnic in the Danger Room and get them clear of the conversation he was about to have. These were his children, and despite the fact that they hadn't known each other very long, he adored them. He had no idea that being a parent could increase his bravery. But his kids had been subjected to ridicule and hatred, and at a damn funeral of all places. They were children, and they should never have to put up with that. His plan was to call Trish and get her to report a rebuttal on Warren's apparent 'dishonorable death'.

So Scott stayed, and listened, and winced as Henry McCoy used words that he rarely used.

"What the hell do you mean, you can't look into it, Trish?! You can't or you won't?"

Pauses. Listening. Scott innocently wished he had Logan's hearing.

"Don’t give me that crap! Warren was a fucking hero and you know it!"

Beast frowned, his jaw dropped slightly as he listened further.

"They're my kids, Trish. What they had to put up with today – at a fucking memorial service - was inexcusable."

Beast's face suddenly grew very dark as Trish was apparently giving him yet another excuse.

"You know what? I do not want to appreciate your position! In point of fact, Madame, I do not want to appreciate any position with you, anymore, ever again!"

He slammed the receiver into the cradle, busting both pieces of equipment in the process. Hank McCoy held his temper in check for a variety of reasons – but mostly for the raw animal strength that he knew he possessed and he rarely let loose. Cyke raised an eyebrow at the destroyed phone, and watched as Hank's shoulders slumped. He dropped the broken pieces, disgusted with his outburst, and walked over to the table.

Hank sighed and sat down at the table. He covered his face with his massive paws and exhaled. "Get this - I can't even remember how many years she and I have been dating, and I don't regret a single word of what I just said."

Scott smiled, and slid an open beer over to him. "That's because you have better people to shower your love upon. Smaller, more innocent… but better."

The larger mutant eyed his inducer. He had turned it off during the ride home, but neglected to remove it. He unlatched it and tossed it aside with disgust. "Yes. Those children have my heart. But you know what I mean… I loved Trish once, Scott. And I enjoyed having a love like that. I'm not exactly your garden-variety mutant. Finding women has never been easy for me."

"You'll find another girl, Hank. And you'll have a better relationship. There are a lot of women out there looking for quality males, not male models." Scott twirled the beer bottle in his hand, staring at it. "His will is being read tomorrow."

Hank looked up. "Goodness… I hadn’t even thought about that. His fortune, and my stars – the company! I hope he was able to will it as he liked, before he…" He let the sentence trail off, not wanting to finish it.

"Well, he named me the executor. I know he willed his fortune and his company in equal shares to Betsy and the Professor." Scott swallowed a big gulp of the amber liquid.

"That's… your kidding?"

"Nope. I think they'll both just sell off Worthington Industries to the highest bidder and put the money to good use."

They sat in silence for a moment.

"Things are not looking too well for us right now, are they?" Henry finished his beer in two and a half sips.

Scott didn’t answer, because he didn’t have to.

***

Logan tossed in his sleep, trying to get comfortable on the lumpy ground. Between teleporting, hitching, and midnight treks, he and Kurt were now in Poland.

Nightcrawler was not fond of this plan of going to Mongolia, but the feral's mind was made up. They needed each other. And Kurt had to admit that he was worried about poor little Jubilee. She was probably curled up in a ball somewhere, crying her head off every night, waiting for a rescue. She was, after all, just a child.

Most of the team still thought of her that way, because she had once been young and vulnerable and entrusted to their care. But Logan knew otherwise. She was capable and resilient. She was not a kid anymore, and that had very little to do with him or the X-Men. What 'coming into her own' Jubilee had done, she had done on her own and in Oklahoma.

But, despite the fact that he knew how capable she was, he was still worried about her. She belonged to him. That made her his responsibility, and not like it was in the past, when she was his little sidekick. He had a duty to protect her and cherish her now, a duty that he was inwardly thrilled about… but he sure as hell couldn’t do that from Poland. He and Kurt were moving, but not fast enough for his tastes. He wanted Jubilee out of harm's way and back into his arms.

He flipped over again, immersed in a fitful dream…

***

Far away on a bloody horizon, the sun was setting. This was an odd place he was in, and he knew he only had a little bit of time left before it became too dark for even him to see anything. At his right sat a redhead he had known for years. This was a woman he had wanted more than life itself, and for her to have taken up with another man… that had nearly broken him. Had nearly.

She sensed his memories, and she smiled at him knowingly, and he surprised himself when he didn't feel much of anything in return. She was braiding and unbraiding her long red hair. Instead of marveling at the color, he kept asking himself why it wasn't black. It was long black hair he was looking for.

Then he heard a faint cry, very far off, somewhere in that blood-red sky. His heart suddenly jumped as if slapped back to life. The redhead said something, and he didn't even bother to listen. He needed to get at that voice. It was the voice of the one he loved, and she was in trouble. He stood up, and sniffed the air, watching the spot he though the cry had come from, and growled.

The redhead debated for a moment over whether or not to glean everything she could off of him psychically. Then she let herself eavesdrop anyway. The emotions she expected were there all right, swirling through him without restraint, but they were carefully focused on a short Asian woman, not a leggy redhead. She tried to contain her surprise… and her disappointment… and failed miserably.

"My God," said the redhead, finally breaking the heavy silence, "You really aren't fooling yourself… You love her. You really are in love with her."

He waved off her shock, not caring in the least. "I gotta get to her. Can you help me?"

She nodded, and scanned the horizon. She frowned. "I can't feel her presence. I'm sorry." He whined low in his throat, and she was startled at the rawness of his reaction. The redhead cocked an eyebrow. "My, how quickly I fell off the pedestal…"

He turned on her then, growling his displeasure at her mood. "Youda rather I just kept on lovin' you, huh? You'd be all safe an' married, and poor, pitiful me just keeps sniffin' around you like he shoulda been the one?"

She bit the inside of her cheek. "I don’t know what I want anymore."

He smirked, shaking his head. "Well, I do. I want her. Now are ya gonna help me find her, or not?"

The redhead sighed, standing up to face him. "I'll do whatever I can, you know that. I care about her very much. I just thought…"

He turned to look at her, watching her face. "Ya thought what?"

She smiled weakly. "I admit that I thought you were pursuing her to get back at me." He laughed.

"The world don't revolve around you. It never did."

She searched his eyes, her heart seized by the honesty there. She exhaled.

"There's a conference coming up in Moscow. It would be a better meeting place." She sighed, looking from the bloody horizon back to the man standing near her.

He smiled at her then… sharp white teeth with perfect little fangs.

For a moment, she wondered what those fangs would feel like, gently biting her neck in a fit of passion. Then she recoiled at the idea, realizing that he had been biting someone else with them in just that fashion… and not that long ago. Those teeth, those lips, that body… and that heart… they were all taken.

***

Jean sat up in bed, her forehead damp with sweat. She wasn't sure if it had been an actual dream, or if Logan had been subconsciously reaching out to her for help. Either way, she was calling Nick Fury in the morning.

She reached over to her sleeping husband, and crawled into his arms. He woke up and looked down at her, pulling her as close as she was asking him to.

"You okay, honey?"

She let go a long breath. "I'm fine, Scott. I'm fine."

***

"But, mein friend, where is it zat we are going?"

"Moscow. I hear there's a big mutant conference there next month."

"And you think Jubilee will be zere?"

"No, but SHIELD probably will. And that means Nick Fury. I can call in a few favors from him," Logan replied tightly.

"And if he is not zere?"

Logan eyed Kurt. "Then I go on to Mongolia, and you can go home… unless you wanna come with me."

"Logan! You do not even know if Jubilation is zere or not! It's dangerous for all mutants in Europe now! Ze X-men cannot even come to pick us up, zey have too many crisis to take care of at home!"

Logan sighed. He hated dragging Kurt into this, but he had made his decision and wanted nothing more than to stick to it. Jubilee came first this time – not the planet, and not the X-Men.

"I'm gettin' her back, with or without the X-Men, Elf. I sure would love yer help with that. But if you gotta bail, I'll understand."

Kurt sighed. "Just… just… Let's get to Moscow."

***

After they found their seats, Nick gave Jane his arm as she sat down, then he grabbed the edge of his own seat to put it down. He winced silently as a jagged piece of metal caught his thumb and cut him. After he sat down, he clamped a cheap paper napkin on it to sop away any blood.

He helped her get off her coat and draped it over her chair behind her. She turned to help him arrange the coat, and her hand brushed up against his accidentally. She smiled shyly, and Nick grinned back. She squeezed his hand, but then frowned, just for a second. She removed her hand, and began rubbing the thumb on her right hand absentmindedly. Jane turned and looked back at the rink, watching the Zamboni finish it's first run and pull off the ice, and Nick leaned back just watching her rub her thumb. He glanced at his own right thumb, and noticed the cut. It was tiny, but it had a nasty sting to it… right up until she touched his hand. The sting was slowly returning. Slowly.

He tugged on the sleeve of her jersey, and she looked back at him. He grabbed her right hand by the wrist and turned it, exposing her un-cut thumb. Then he held his own thumb up next to hers, and showed her the gash for comparison.

"Janie… Is it that bad? You can't even block out a little thing like this?"

She shrugged. "Uhm… I know. You gotta watch these seats, they're pretty banged up."

His voice got softer as he leaned in next to her. "That ain't what I asked ya, Jane."

She swallowed. "Nick… Look, I'm nervous, okay? It makes it even more difficult." She bit her lower lip, then smiled at him and went back to watching the game.

Fury grinned at her from behind her head. She was a bit flustered on this, their seventh date, and more so than he was. Her emotions, for now at least, had something to do with not being able to control her abilities. And even though he felt bad about the empathy thing, he took secret delight in the fact that she was nervous.

That meant she wanted him, and probably as much as he wanted her.

Later during the game, a ref turned a blind eye to an obvious boarding call. One of the Blues - a young man who had just been traded up from the minors and was showing a lot of promise - was getting smeared across the boards by one of the Rangers, making the plexiglass shake violently. Jane and a few other solitary Blues fans were on their feet immediately. One of them screamed towards the rink, "Gimme a freakin' break! He practically made margarita mix outta the kid! Are you blind?!"

Jane tossed her gangly arms and ass out melodramatically. Her friends were right - she looked exactly like a pissed-off Disney Tinkerbell. In a spoiled brat, loud voice, she looked right at the ref and shouted, "Hey! Mister McGeough Magoo! That's right, you! Look at my hand! How many fingers am I holding up?!" Nick covered his face as he laughed, noting with humor that she was only holding up one. The people standing with her laughed out loud. "It's disgusting… man's got the vision of an old dog." She muttered, sitting back down.

Nick rubbed his upper lip and smirked at her. "Gee… Tink, yer such a lady when ya get mad."

She laughed, taking a swig on his beer. "Don't you ever forget it, Colonel."

When they got back from the Hockey Game, Jane sat perched on the edge of his couch, with Nick in the opposite corner. Fury leaned back into the couch, draping one huge arm over its back. For once, he was the collected one. Not that his insides weren't flipping out, because they were. He wanted to kiss her so bad he could already taste her. But he had the outward cool this time, and she had graduated from nervous to visibly nervous.

Jane had already told him everything she could regarding her past, her empathic inheritance, and what it had cost her in her relationships. He knew all of it already, but he let her tell her version. It was important that he hear her side of it. Fury also knew that she was at a point in her life where she needed training, but not the kind that SHIELD had to offer her.

Jane wasn't a kid anymore; she was forty-two years old. She wanted a life. She wanted a job she could take pride in, one where she could use her abilities without fear of retribution. And she wanted a man - one for keeps. Fury was pretty sure she was considering him for the position. But she was still apprehensive, and with good reason. Unchecked and under-developed as it was, Jane's empathic gift was not an easy one to maneuver a physical relationship around. They wanted more than just sex from each other; that was clear. But they wanted the sex, too. And they wanted it now.

Fury had no clue as to what was going to happen to him that night, or to her for that matter. But he was determined to find out.

She cleared her throat. She placed her hands palms down on her thighs, and played with a small hole in her jeans just above her knee. She looked over at him with a shy smile. That same smile she had given him just after they'd met in the SHIELD infirmary. He loved that smile.

He eyed her, barely moving from his position on the couch. She swallowed, and looked away. Jane raised a hand to her neck and stroked it nervously. Fury grinned almost evilly. He was going to enjoy this.

Look at her! She's so nervous!

He laughed quietly, and she bit her lower lip, still smiling.

"Jane."

She looked over at him and paused before responding. "Nicholas?" Her voice was overly-sweet and she blinked at him. She was caught between laughing at herself and starting to sweat.

"Come over here."

She narrowed her eyes at him, but playfully. One look at his expression was all she needed. She suddenly stopped analyzing what was happening to them, and crawled over to where he was sitting on the other end of the couch. Jane fit herself into the space he was offering, climbing in his lap and snuggling right up to his neck. Fury wrapped the arm that had been resting on the couch's back around her and pulled her up snug.

"So… ya wanna neck or somethin'?" he asked, and she giggled against him.

"Do you?"

"Now, would I have asked if I didn't wanna? Fer Pete's sake, woman!" He growled, pretending to be peeved at her. Nick squeezed her tight and she squeaked. "What I wanna know, Tink… is do you want me to kiss ya?"

Jane placed a light hand on his chest and smiled. She could feel his heart beating under her hand, and it wasn't going slow. "You poor baby," she cooed. "All that energy and no way to expend it." Jane smirked. His other hand crept down her side and crawled across her leg. "You want to get in my pants, don't you Colonel?"

"Don't make me order you, Winchester."

"Why? Are you going to tie me up and put me in the stockade if I protest?"

"I dunno about the stockade, but the tyin' ya up part sounds real good."

"Nicholas," she scolded quietly, leaning back to look in his eye, "A government employee, into kinky shit? How very shocking…"

Jane's voice drifted off and she found herself staring at his lips again. She reached up with one shaking hand to touch them, but Fury beat her to the punch and was kissing her for all he was worth, before she could say another word.

***

"Chere… t'ank God…" Remy hugged his wife carefully as they changed in their bedroom in the boathouse. They were finally alone after her return, and he felt more relieved than he ever had in his life. "You okay, den?"

"Ah'm fine, Sugah… It's Cable and Bets whats got all the troubles now. Domino got whisked away, then she never showed up at the safe house. We hadta leave California without lookin' for her proper. Nathan's pretty messed up. I ain't never seen him cry before, but he did, jes' as soon as Jean came up to him. An' I don’t gotta tell you that Betsy ain't dealin' with any o' this all this too well. Didja get a look at her face at the funeral? She's gone stone cold, s'like she whuddent even there!"

Remy shook his head, unable to comprehend all that was happening to them. He left behind his life with the clans for the relative stability of the X-Men. It was a peace he had enjoyed. Now, that was all being threatened.

"You know 'bout Wolvie n' Kurt, right?" She turned to face him as she unbuttoned the back of her dress.

"Non…" Remy sighed, eyeing her as he sat down on their bed and removed his shoes. His face expressed that he did not want more bad news. "What 'bout dem, now?"

"Since they've gone missin' in Germany, no one's heard from 'em. But Jean thinks she picked up a psychic vibe from Logan that told her they were in Europe. Things'r so hot there right now that we can’t go and get 'em. She told him to go to Moscow fer that big 'ole conference about Kazakstan. I jes hope he listened."

Remy frowned. "What's de big deal wit Kazakstan, Chere?"

Rogue hung up her black dress and grabbed a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. "The FOH is leanin' on it hard, plannin' on takin' it over. Slowly but surely. Why?"

"Dat's right next to Mongolia, Roguey. Right next to Jubilee."

"Oh, man. You don't think…?"

"Gambit don' know what to t'ink, Chere. Me an' de Petite, we agreed dat she would not be contactin' me too much, what wit all she got to do over dere. But I would t'ink dat she would have called 'bout Warren, even if it was dangerous for her to do it. Even de eMail… dere's no'tin."

"Logan's gone MIA and Jubes is camped next to a mutant war zone. This sucks, Cajun." She popped on her inhibitor and crawled up next to him on the bed. Remy kissed her forehead and rubbed his hands up and down her arms.

"Tell me 'bout it, Chere. Tell me 'bout it."

***

Jubilee was getting frightened again. Susie had given her hope, but she hadn’t seen her for several days. She knew it was going to take more than an inexperienced mutant with morphing powers to get her out of this. And where Susie was going to find that kind of help she hadn’t a clue. The worst part was that she knew things were happening in the outside world, things that meant trouble for mutants everywhere, and she had no idea what those things were. She had no clue if Remy, or any of the X-Men were looking for her yet. Probably not, with the way she had been planning to set up shop on the railroad.

She didn't know where Logan was. That hurt more than anything.

The FOH and Peach Lab Coat had stopped torturing her; in fact, they weren’t even testing her or asking her questions anymore. They brought her food to her on a regular basis. The toilet flushed. Days passed. She could paf her head off for fun, without the collar on, in the little metal room. But she noticed that her firecrackers were very weak. All she could manage was a few sparks. The only evidence that time was passing was the way her belly continued to swell. It was totally obvious that she was pregnant now. But even that she could not judge time with, because she knew her baby was growing at an accelerated rate.

"What kinda mutant gift you got, kid? Are you Quicksilver the Sequel?" She giggled. The baby kicked again and she smiled softly. "Least I got you to keep me company. But wish yer daddy was here. God, I miss him…"

She felt disoriented and weak. How could her baby be so full of life with what they were feeding her? Jubes sighed, wishing she could turn off the lights. "We gotta get outta here, baby. And real soon."

Despite the harsh bulbs burning overhead, she fell asleep with her hands on her tummy, wondering what day it was.