Chapter Eight: Bedazzled
What did I do to deserve you?
What did I do to deserve this?
I won’t shut up
I won’t calm down
I won’t kiss you
I won’t want you
I won’t love you
Writhing bodies moved to the pulse-pounding music, hands waving in the sweat-thick air as the blonde singer screamed into the microphone. Bobby grinned at his brunette companion, pleased to find her eyes closed, mouth roughly forming the words to one of her favorite songs.
Though there was turmoil all over the mansion, Storm had given Kitty her birthday gift before Bishop’s arrival and insisted she use the coveted concert tickets. Kitty asked Bobby to come with her, obviously more comfortable with the suggestion given Rogue’s trip to Germany.
Nodding his head to the beat he could feel in his blood, Bobby looked back to the stage just a few feet in front of him. The blonde front woman of Dazzler caught his gaze, shooting him a teasing wink as she vocalized into the chorus. Blinding lights erupted behind her, giving the audience more than just human eye candy.
He winced against the brightness, grinning when Kitty bumped him as she swayed enticingly to the music. Dazzler was her favorite band; common knowledge at the school where the mutant woman made her home. Hardly a day went by when Kitty wasn’t blasting one of the underground discs in her bedroom or the training room.
Bobby didn’t know much about the musician, save that she was irredeemably hot and could belt out hard-core ska and Etta James without batting an eyelash. His eyes lingered on the mesh top she wore, which barely covered what looked like a black bikini top. Her tight leather pants rested at toned hips, revealing a muscled abdomen and the waistband of what Bobby only hoped was a thong.
Her heavy combat boots thudded in time to the beat as the music reached its peak. Bobby had to give Kitty credit; she could pick a concert.
It felt good to just let go, to be eighteen if only for a night. He could forget about Bishop, future war, and present hate crimes. There were no X-Men, no Brotherhood…not right now anyway.
Cheers were deafening when the song ended. Bobby winced when Kitty screamed her pleasure, the look on her face as close to pure bliss as the young man had ever seen. He swallowed hard, giving his companion a smile as Dazzler’s drummer wound up again.
The singer’s voice dropped into a sensual purr, her vocals easily seducing every man “ and probably some women “ in the club.
Creep into my bedroom, baby
Show me what you mean by love
Creep between my sheets, darlin’
Let me show you what I do
How I’m gonna do you
Dazzler’s front woman winked at Bobby again. He felt his face heat.
“You could get lucky, Iceman!” Kitty yelled over the music. “Just don’t forget me when you go back stage to “creep”.”
She laughed hysterically as his face was sent into embarrassed flames. He socked her familiarly in the arm. Even with her teasing, this was the best night he’d had in a long time.
He didn’t even feel guilty thinking that. Rogue had left for Germany without saying goodbye, hadn’t she? Obviously she didn’t think he needed her. She could keep right on thinking that.
Bobby glanced around again, smiling as he found himself falling into the sexually charged song. He spied something familiar out of the corner of his eye and froze.
“Kitty.”
She turned to him, seemingly confused. Bobby jerked his head to the left, feeling his hands clench into fists. Pyro, their old schoolmate and new enemy, was making his way toward the back of the club.
“Jesus,” Shadowcat breathed loudly. “He’s going backstage.”
Bobby grabbed Kitty’s hand. “Come on. We have to follow him.”
She nodded, letting Bobby lead her through the teeming throng surrounding the stage. This wasn’t good. Just two young X-Men confronted by the Brotherhood. Iceman felt his heart begin to pound.
Even if he could reach Storm or Wolverine, they were at least half an hour from help. There was no way anyone could get here in time to help them. A glance at Kitty assured Bobby that she understood the situation as well. Whatever happened, they had a job to do. When they signed on as X-Men, they agreed to protect innocent lives, to fight for Xavier’s dream.
Taking the backstage passes Storm had surprised them with, Bobby and Kitty were admitted into the back area of the club. They hung back, trying to look inconspicuous as the music from the stage halted. The concert was over.
“Sorry you missed the end,” Bobby whispered to Kitty as they stood against the back wall, watching Pyro carefully.
“That’s ok,” Kitty said lightly, her hand squeezing his. “In case this gets sticky, I had a really good time tonight, Bobby. Thanks for coming with me.”
He gave her a strained smile, giving in to the impulse to kiss her cheek. She colored prettily, looking away from him.
The band came through the thick black curtains leading to the stage a moment later. Cheering and applause from the crowd outside rang through the backstage area, making Bobby wince. Soon those with backstage access would stream back here, making it difficult to maneuver. He led Kitty closer to the dressing rooms.
“He’s talking to her,” Kitty whispered urgently.
Bobby followed her gaze, scowling when he saw Pyro open her dressing room door. He followed her inside, leaving another mutant outside the door as though guarding it. Kitty shook her head, releasing Bobby’s hand.
“We have to get closer,” she hissed over her shoulder. “Come on!”
He followed, weaving through the dozens of bodies quickly filling the room. They slipped past guards and the other band members, most of them distracted by women in revealing clothing whom had obviously had far too much to drink.
Bobby iced his fist up, moving toward the young mutant guarding the door. Kitty ducked instinctively as Bobby threw that fist out, weighted by several pounds of ice. The boy fell into Kitty’s arms, who quickly phased him through the floor.
Looking around to ensure no one had seen anything, Bobby crept to the door, putting his ear against it. A soft whooshing told him Kitty had returned. He closed his eyes, concentrating as Wolverine had taught him.
Pyro’s familiar voice came through the thick wooden door, mingling with the throaty vocals of Dazzler’s lead singer.
“The Brotherhood wants you, Alison,” Pyro was saying. “You have the potential to be a very powerful mutant.”
“Right,” the girl replied with some sarcasm. “Do I look like I want to kill all humans? I like norms. They’re so…normal.”
Bobby resisted the urge to snort.
“Our leader is prepared to offer you free run of the music industry once the war is over.”
The woman inside laughed. “What war? You haven’t even started fighting and he’s making plans for this glorious take over? Thats real smart.”
“Look, Blaire,” Pyro said, sounding frustrated. “Magneto won’t take no for an answer. You’re with us or against us.”
“Hmm,” she hummed in reply. “Then I’m against you. Like it or not, mutants and norms need each other. I’m not for killing people because I’m different. You’re barkin’ up the wrong tree, Sparky.”
Bobby distinctly heard the sound of Pyro’s apparatus engage. Before he could take the door down, Kitty had phased through it. She popped it open halfway through, allowing Iceman inside so that Pyro was effectively trapped.
The blonde mutant could have saved them both the trouble. She stood with both hands out at Pyro, bright white light erupting from her palms. There was a look of hatred on her face as Kitty moved up to her.
“Guys like you give all mutants a bad name. Tell Magneto he can suck my dick.”
“Wow,” Kitty said clinically. “I think we’ll get along just fine.”
Blaire turned on them, one hand still trained on Pyro as the other came up. Bobby and Kitty put their hands up in defense. “We’re not Brotherhood!”
“Iceman! Kitty?” Pyro grunted from his placement against the wall, his hands pinned behind his back. “What are you doing here?”
“Our job,” Bobby said gruffly. He turned his back on Pyro, meeting the deep green of Alison Blaire’s eyes. “Its ok. We’re from Xavier’s School.”
“Mutant high?” The girl dropped her hand a fraction. “I’ve heard of it.”
“We saw this jerk come back here and thought you might need help,” Kitty gestured to the restrained Pyro. “Guess we were wrong.”
Alison shrugged, grinning at them. “He’s not the only one with gifts. I’m fine.”
“Yeah, but…” Kitty sighed. “Bobby, I think we could use some privacy with Alison, don’t you?”
“My pleasure.” He whipped around to Pyro, decking him cleanly with one icy fist. The boy slumped against the wall, released from Alison’s mutation, his nose bleeding as consciousness left him.
“Don’t mind him,” Kitty was saying to Blaire. “They have some unresolved anger issues.”
“I can see that,” the blonde smirked. “Nice hit, though.”
“Thanks,” Bobby winked at her. “You sure you’re ok?”
“Peachy,” she grabbed a bag and slung it over her shoulder. “If the Brotherhood’s looking into me though, I’d better skip town. Thanks.”
Kitty caught Bobby’s gaze and he nodded instantly.
“We’ve got a better idea.”
~**~
Alison Blaire happened to be just over five feet tall with emerald green eyes and long blonde hair. She had the delicate features of someone raised in high society and a body that betrayed her addiction to sports. Her voice was her bread and butter, her status as a mutant a guarded secret.
She had an overly bright view of the world and shared that optimism with anyone and everyone within earshot. She spoke her mind, usually without caring what someone thought of her. She laughed, a lot. Teasing seemed to be her favorite past time and her genuine interest in the people around her was oddly endearing.
Kitty had made a friend.
While Bobby piloted the borrowed Mazda through the massive gates of Xavier’s School, the two girls chatted in the backseat. Kitty caught him glancing at them more than once, but decided not to comment on it. Though her new friend seemed at ease, there was a guarded, almost skittish feel to her.
She was ready to bolt at the first sign of danger. Kitty set her mind to making the girl feel at ease, hoping nothing had come along during her night out to send the X-Men into fits. If there was mutant high drama, Kitty wasn’t sure she could keep Alison from running.
“Home sweet home,” Bobby said as he parked the Mazda and hopped out of the driver’s seat.
“Welcome to Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngster’s.” Kitty slid out of the car, watching as Alison stepped out behind Bobby.
Her eyes were scanning the entire grounds, her red lips falling open in mute surprise.
“Holy shit,” she breathed. “You guys really call it that?”
“Yeah,” Bobby shrugged, moving up the walk. “Don’t blame us, we didn’t name it.”
“Right, if I start seeing leprechauns and fairies, I’m so outta here.”
“Nah, we put those in the shed before we left, with the flying ponies and trolls.” Kitty quipped as they neared the door.
“No yellow brick roads either?” Alison questioned as she glanced at Bobby.
“Not even a cowardly lion.” He winked as Kitty threw open the mansion’s doors, letting the sound of laughing and quarreling teens waft through the foyer.
Kitty stopped inside, taking her coat and placing it on the hook bearing her name. She watched Alison tense a little, her emerald gaze darting about quickly. The mansion’s interior was often off-putting. Antiques and Persian rugs weren’t exactly what people had in mind when they thought of mutant school.
The girl tucked a blonde lock behind her ear, smiling slightly as she shrugged.
“Beats the band’s van, that’s for damn sure.”
Bobby was calling for Dr. McCoy and Storm when Piotr came jogging down the stairs in his Snoopy pajama bottoms and a tight tee shirt. Kitty gulped a little, blinking at the way his muscles moved beneath the thin cotton.
“Holy…” Alison breathed as the young man moved toward them, obvious interest in his eyes.
“What followed you home, Katya?” His slight Russian accent was filled with good humor.
“They wanted a kitten or a puppy,” Alison said as she recovered from her dumbstruck awe. “But they got me instead.”
“Lucky us,” Piotr said with a grin as he stuck his hand out. “Piotr Rasputin, also known as Colossus.”
“We call him Peter,” Kitty supplied as the two shook hands.
“Alison Blaire, aka Dazzler. You can call me Ali.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Alison.” Piotr turned to Bobby. “Are you looking for Beast?”
“Or Wolverine or Storm.” The other boy supplied somewhat sullenly. Kitty shot him a glance, which he avoided.
“Ah, the latter you will not find. Storm is upstairs and Wolverine is with Bishop. I can find Beast, though.”
“Cool.” Bobby shrugged out of his coat.
“Ali’s bunking with me, so we’ll get her settled. Send Dr. McCoy up when you find him?”
“Sure thing,” Bobby agreed.
“It was nice to meet you,” Piotr offered as the boys moved into the living room.
“You, too.” Alison tossed over her shoulder while Kitty pulled her upstairs.
“So, what do you think?” The brunette asked, giggling at the way Alison leaned to watch Piotr and Bobby exit the foyer.
“I think I’m gonna like it here.” Dazzler’s grin was positively ferocious.
~**~
She’d avoided everyone the previous evening, concentrating on her own thoughts and the men they revolved around. They had given her space, for which she was grateful. If Logan had shown his damned face at her door after all that was revealed, she would have killed him.
Taking a cup of coffee to the kitchen table, Ororo narrowly avoided colliding with several running students. Without even the mental presence to chide them, Storm let them escape into the sitting room as they prepared for classes.
What she really wanted was to be alone, but as usual the demands of a headmistress weighed heavily upon her. There could be no hiding under the covers today, no matter how badly she wanted to. She couldn’t face Logan and Bishop yet, not when she didn’t know what she was feeling.
Her son. Their son. It couldn’t be possible, could it? Physically, yes, she supposed there was a chance. She couldn’t even tell herself that she’d never wind up in Logan’s bed again. But the way Bishop had always spoken of his parents, as though there were important, cherished. How could she and Logan had created a child so innately good?
Bishop had come back to the past to correct the future, saving hundreds of lives. Ororo liked to think that she could do something so courageous, leaving everyone she loved. There was no doubt in her mind that Logan would, if something he loved were at stake.
And yet, the manner in which Bishop had spoken of his family had given Ororo the image of two loving and happy parents doting on a wonderful son. Part of her hoped the image was wrong while the larger side prayed that it was not. If Bishop truly was her son, she hoped his life had been as happy as she could provide in wartime.
Shaking herself back to the present, Ororo glanced around the sunlit kitchen.
Hank stood at the kitchen table with the young recruit Bobby and Kitty had appeared with late the previous evening. The girl was tugging on his blue mane, the warmth in her laughter making Ororo smile. She recognized a sort of kinship with this mysterious waif. Street kids to the bone, she surmised from the way the girl behaved. Always ready to bolt, never quite settled.
Ororo took a seat across from the newest member of her ever-growing household, glancing at the paperwork Henry had insisted she fill out.
“Storm?”
“Mmm?” Ororo asked, not looking up from the girl’s administration card.
“Isn’t that your third cup?”
She arched a brow, glancing at him. His blue eyes met hers across the table, heedless to the intrigued girl watching them cautiously.
“Back off.”
“Of course.”
“Whoa,” Alison chimed in. “You guys are intense. Don’t you ever smile, lady?”
Ororo turned her gaze to the lost soul regarding her with teasing eyes. “Alison, I will not respond to lady. You may call me Ororo or Storm. Formalities get in the way.”
“This is so cool,” Alison grinned, munching on a donut. “A woman runs this place. All my dreams have come true.”
Storm had to fight back the smile that threatened to curve her lips.
“You go on, girl. Burn! Fight! Win! Show these boy muties who’s the boss!”
“What is wrong with boy muties?” Hank asked, raising a blue brow.
“Boys are stinky, throw rocks at them,” Alison replied cheekily.
“Can we get back on topic here, please?” Storm cut in before Hank could respond.
She stacked Alison’s paperwork together, binding it with a paper clip. Alison was just nineteen years old, alone for most of her life due to disinterested parents. She had confided in Kitty, who in turn told Ororo, that her parents disappeared completely from the girl’s life after her first use of mutation.
Ororo could feel Kitty’s affection for the young singer and immediately knew they would have something special if Dazzler stayed on. She regarded the girl over the table, not surprised to find her sitting back in the chair, staring unabashedly at Storm.
Fearless. The girl had no fear. She seemed to toe the line between eccentric and openly rebellious. She had been pierced several times “ six in each ear and both eyebrows that Ororo could see “ each some kind of silent statement. Each tattoo a symbol of independence.
But beneath the surface, there was vulnerability in this beautiful urchin. A pure soul lingered, hidden by brash attitude and sarcasm. No doubt life had forced her to cover up, to never show that beautiful inside lest it be destroyed.
Ororo could definitely connect with that.
“You were thirteen when your mutation manifested?” She asked, shrugging off her inner thoughts.
“Yep.” Alison grinned. “I got pissed off at my boyfriend and cut a hole in his truck. He was so pissed off. It was great.”
“Have you received any training?” Henry asked, marking something on his medical sheets.
“Not really,” she shrugged. “I practiced a lot in my backyard. I’ve got the gist of it.”
“Would you be prepared to hone your skills more fully?” Beast asked again.
Alison seemed surprised by his question. “Think I could?”
The furry blue mutant nodded, his expression open and warm. “Oh yes. I believe you have only begun to scratch the surface of your gifts.”
“Huh,” she said with a shrug. “Sure.”
“We are prepared to offer you a place here at Xavier’s,” Ororo continued. “But there are rules you must follow.”
The girl’s nose scrunched up in dislike. “Rules.”
“Yes, rules,” Ororo pressed. “Kitty can fill you in on most of them, but I will say now that there are three basic rules. Breaking these can lead to immediate removal.”
“She’s a hardass,” Alison said to Beast, whom covered a laugh with an ineffectual cough. “Ok, boss-lady, fire away.”
Ororo held up one finger. “One: You will not use your gifts to intentionally harm a student or faculty member.”
“Well, duh.” Alison rolled her eyes. “Next.”
“Two,” Ororo’s middle finger joined the first. “No drinking or drug use on the premises. Smoking is permitted out of doors and only if you are over eighteen.”
“I don’t smoke.”
“Good. And finally,” Ororo held up her ring finger. “Under no circumstances are you to enter the lower levels of the mansion without a faculty member with you. Have I made myself clear?”
Alison nodded immediately. “Crystal. Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Excellent,” Hank said, standing quickly. “I can give you that tour now, if you’d like.”
“You’re on, Beastie,” the girl grinned as she leapt to her feet. “Are there really stables?”
“Oh yes, do you ride?”
“Well, I do own chaps and a bridle, but I’ve never been on a horse.”
At her deliberately teasing words, Hank blushed and stumbled slightly. Ororo hid a smile in her hand, watching as the blue doctor and her new charge moved into the hall. That girl was going to be a handful.
Almost the instant the other two rounded the corner, Logan appeared in all his Stetson and cigar glory. He watched the new girl with a careful sniff in her direction. Ororo turned to her paperwork, ignoring the fact that he dared to exist in the same timeline as she. The scent of his cigar smoke made her stomach clench, even as Alison yelled: “Hey! Boss-Lady said no smoking in the house!”
Logan chose to not respond as he stomped into the kitchen. A cursory glance in his direction told Ororo that he had not changed since the previous day. He had obviously remained in the med-lab, watching over the man that claimed to be their son.
“Who’s the blonde?”
“Alison Blaire,” Ororo replied without looking up. “The Brotherhood tried to recruit her last night.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”
He grunted.
Irritated that she felt desire stab at her stomach upon seeing him, that his scent and voice made her want to ensure they conceived the man in the med-lab, Ororo stood. His back was facing her as he fixed his usual black coffee.
“I thought you and Beast injected Magneto with the cure.”
Logan’s back immediately stiffened. “We did.”
“Apparently you missed.” Her tone was scathing. “Bobby and Kitty said Pyro revealed Magneto as the leader of the Brotherhood. Alison confirmed it.”
Wolverine turned on her, dark eyes flashing. “We fuckin’ cured him, Storm. I was there. I watched the needles go into him.”
She exhaled slowly in an attempt to control her temper. “Then we are going to have a very large problem.”
He regarded her quietly for several moments. Tension flowed freely between them, making both mutants edgy and unsure. Ororo wanted to run for the back door and leap into the skies, but she refrained. There was too much to do, as usual. She would just have to deal with Wolverine.
“We already have a problem,” he countered harshly. “Like why you won’t go down and speak to your son.”
Ororo wished he had chosen to physically slap her. Having Bishop thrown in her face was not how she envisioned her morning. She took another deep breath, refusing to avoid Logan’s heated gaze.
“He isn’t awake,” she said quickly. “And I honestly have nothing to say to him, aside from screaming about the stupidity of taking on the Brotherhood alone.”
Logan’s dark eyes flashed with something primal. “He’s our son.”
“Not yet.” She turned to scoop Alison’s paperwork into her hands, wanting only to escape from the accusation in Logan’s eyes.
He stopped her, grasping her bicep and turning her around.
“You might not see him as your son yet,” he told her in a tone that was more a growl than anything. “But he looks at you and sees his mother.”
Though she knew it was likely the truth, Ororo shook her head, tearing her arm from Logan’s grasp. She didn’t want to think about this now. She didn’t want to know if her one night with Wolverine would turn into a lifelong bond. By the Goddess, she never wanted to know if her heart would betray her down the line and jump into the hands of their resident feral.
“I have work to do.”
She could see that he wanted to say something, but he held back. Clenching his jaw so that his pulse jumped radically, Logan waved a hand toward the door, anger coming from his every pore in waves.
“Then, go. I ain’t stoppin’ ya.”
Ororo took the invitation and left the room at a sedate walk. The angry heat of Logan’s gaze followed her all the way to her office.
