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1X02 – Pop Rocks & Pixie Stix – Act IV
“Where’s, ugh, Poison Ivy when you need her,” Jubilee pulled more weeds out from between the plants. The school had two gardens, flower and vegetable and there were also the various decorative areas around the building itself which needed care. The kids took rotational shifts keeping it clear of weeds and pests. Jubilee was rethinking taking that extra shift this month.
“Make sure you get all the roots,” Meg laughed as she approached, her wings gently swaying in the breeze.
“No, really,” she replied sarcastically, taking a spade after a particularly troublesome weed. She was given the landscape plots near the garage and they were always the worst. “I think one of the students is a closet florakinetic, making these things grow overnight.”
“Florakinetic, huh,” Meg said conspiratorially, “bet it’s that Christy, she does like to play in the dirt.”
“Darn terrakinetics,” Jubilee mumbled, grinning ear to ear.
Meg laughed, then started to look around, “I’m trying to find Sharon, she turned into a cat again, this time a Siamese. She got one look at herself in a mirror and darted off.”
“A Siamese,” she thought about that for a second, “didn’t realize she could change into different cats.”
“She never mentioned,” Meg agreed, then after a few more cursory glances, said, “well, I guess she’ll be okay, not like she can get into too much trouble.”
“I feel a comment about curiosity should be made,” Jubilee said cheekily.
“Oh, hush,” Meg admonished her.
Jubilee had a good laugh, but then she looked up at her friend, “You doing okay, Meg?”
“I’m fine,” she replied a bit too quickly and little too casually.
The firecracker knew her roommate was feeling a bit troubled right now, didn’t take a blind person to see that. But Jubilee knew from experience that you never knock on the front door of someone’s problems, you either wait till you’re called from the road or sneak in through the back.
A roaring engine saved them both from the awkward moment, Jubilee stood to see Logan driving up the driveway on his Ducati motorbike. He pulled around to head towards the garage, but he stopped short, coming to a rest in front of the girls. With a flick he killed the engine on the bike gave them a nod, “Pop rocks, pixie stix.”
“Hey, Wolvie,” Jubilee thumped him on the chest with her finger, “you’re late, I had you down for Sunday, I had to pull extra gardening shifts to make my money back.”
“What did I tell you about gambling,” he gave her a stern look.
“No such thing as a sure thing,” she started to tick the list off on her fingers, “never go all in against the house, always have an escape route… oh, and don’t try to out-bluff the Cajun.”
He chuckled at her, then glanced up at the house, “The Boy Scout isn’t in?”
“Nope,” Jubilee graciously allowed this change of topic, “he went with Jean and Bobby to Philadelphia, Acolyte business.”
“Philly, huh?” he mulled that over but whatever he was thinking, he didn’t share, not that this surprised either of them. Wolverine then turned his head to stare towards the garden and sniffed, “When did we get a cat?”
“Oh, that’s Sharon, new student,” Meg piped up, following his gaze, “she’s a locked shape shifter. Jean says her cells literally collapse in on another, like an accordion or something. Tidy.”
“Okay,” he held the vowel just a bit, “did anyone tell her how much ‘Ro loves her garden?”
“I think so, why?” Jubilee asked and the man looked back at her and gave her a little smirk. The firecracker felt her eyes widen, “Not the petunias!” she shouted as she ran towards the garden at full speed.
…
“Well,” Rogue smiled at Pierce as they made their way to the lobby, “this has been very enlightening. I’ll take everything back to our client and see if he still wants to go forward with the infringement suit.”
“As his patent lawyer,” Pierce was entirely close for comfort in the elevator, “I’m sure you’ll advise him with care towards his best interests.”
“You still don’t think we have a case?” she said with a slight upturn of her lips.
“Call them as I see them,” he threw back the worn statement as the elevator doors opened up.
Out of the corner of her eye, Rogue could see Pietro rolling his eyes at her before saying, “We have just enough time to get to the hotel and set up for that emergency conference call.”
“Oh, of course,” she smiled apologetically at Pierce, “rain check on the cheesesteak.”
“Sure,” Pierce replied, knowing full well it wasn’t going to happen now.
“Thank you, Mr Pierce,” she shook his hand, “your company has been quite… accommodating.”
With those parting words, Rogue followed Pietro outside, scanning the street for any threats such as government agents who might have wandered back into the area. Seeing nothing, Pietro waved a cab down.
“Why is it I’m always the one to distract the mark?” her accent slipped into something more comfortable.
“Because,” Pietro glanced at her sideways, “you’re the only one with patience enough to deal with idiots like him… and you’re a girl.”
“Really,” she frowned as a cab stopped in front of them, “just going to throw out that little misogynic gem?”
“Am I wrong?” he opened the door and gestured for her to get in.
She started to argue but then shrugged, laughed, and slipped inside the cab with Pietro following shortly after. “Please tell me you got what we came for.”
He pulled out his burner cell phone and hit the only number dialed into it, after a ring, Dom picked up, “Vacation’s over.”
“Understood,” the man replied and then hung up.
“So, uh,” the cabby finally spoke up, “where to?”
“The Barclay,” Pietro told them and both mutants took a breath and relaxed.
…
Dom turned to Pyro who was sitting on the floor, leaning against a plaster replica of Rodin’s Eternal Springtime. His spiral notebook was on his knee and he was writing away as his other hand fiddled with his lighter. “Time to go.”
“Aww,” the fire mutant frowned, “I was just getting comfortable.”
“Come on,” he offered a hand to his friend who quickly stood, “an old sewer tunnel runs just outside the building, we’ll walk away and let them deal with the explosives.”
“Seems like an awful waste of perfectly good Semtex…” Pyro pursed his lips, glancing around.
Dom raised an eyebrow, “You want to blow up the museum?”
“What,” he gave the man a stunned look, “and destroy priceless art?”
“You wanted to set it on fire earlier,” Dom argued.
“Just a little fire,” Pyro pointed out, using his thumb and index finger to prove his point, “not enough to actually melt the bronze, geesh, honestly, what do you think am I? Uncouth?.”
The man continued to mumble as Dom followed him towards the exit, shaking his head the whole way.
…
“Sharon?” Jubilee called out as she entered the secondary green house at the edge of the garden. “I swear I saw her come in here.”
“She could have gone out the back,” Meg suggested as she slipped in behind her.
“Yeah,” Jubilee mumbled as she started to walk down the aisle.
“Wait,” Sharon’s voice called out, “I couldn’t make it back to the house in time.”
The two mutants looked at each other, then it clicked, their lips mouthing the word ‘oh’.
“Is there a tarp around here?” Jubilee began to look around.
“I’ll grab something from the house,” Meg offered, heading back towards the door, “you keep watch.”
“Right, kay,” Jubilee made sure the door shut behind her roommate and then turned back towards the plants, “she won’t take long.”
Off to the right, Sharon’s head poked up above some plants timidly, “Thank you, again.”
“Don’t sweat it,” Jubilee waved her off, her eyes focusing to the left, “but until you get control you might want to stick to the house when you shift… or I guess we could store a robe out here, I suppose as a cat you wouldn’t want to be cooped up.”
“Yeah,” she said quietly, “but did you see me? While I was a cat, I mean?”
“I saw a streak of fur as you ran from the garden,” Jubilee chuckled then wondered if she should have used the word ‘streak’ in regards to the situation.
“I wasn’t an Abyssinian,” her voice was strange, troubled, “I’m always an Abyssinian…”
“Meg said you were a Siamese?” Jubilee questioned.
“Yes,” Sharon gave out a nervous laugh, “I took your advice, didn’t fight it this time… and… I remember thinking how it would be nice to be something different for a change…”
“Oh,” Jubilee thought about that for a second, “Oh! You affected your transformation. That’s awesome!”
“I didn’t exactly control anything,” the firecracker could see the frown in her voice.
“Yes, you did,” Jubilee argued. “You turned yourself into a different breed, maybe next time you can focus on a specific breed, I dunno, maybe one of those fluffy long haired ones! Oooo, maybe the cat off of Austin Powers, the bald one… on second thought maybe not. Hairless cats are just weird.”
“Maybe,” Sharon said slowly, “maybe I could think bigger, you know, like a tiger?”
Jubilee’s eye went wide, “That would be so cool!”
The new girl laughed with her and Jubilee thought that for the first time Sharon felt good about herself, her mutation, and her situation in general. That is exactly what the school was all about.
…
“They’re almost here,” Pietro hung up the phone then went to grab a bottle of water from the fridge.
Rogue sat on the sofa, twirling the USB drive in her hand, “You sure you got it all?”
“Everything Silvercloud sent in to be reviewed for a patent license,” he took a swig and leaned against the counter.
“Spends all that time and money protecting his creations,” she let out a little chuckle, “and he sends the plans out to a patent lawyer.”
“Would been nice to have an actual prototype,” Pietro shrugged, “but I’m sure Magneto’s got someone on the payroll who can turn that into something workable.”
She gave an agreeing nod, then in a frustrated move, grabbed the blonde locks that fell in front of her eyes and yanked the whole thing off. Tossing the wig onto the table, Rogue ran her hands through her hair, slipping out the bobby pins to let her short locks fall free.
“Well,” she scratched at her scalp, she hated wearing wigs, “I’m gonna change before the boys get here.”
“Alright,” Pietro continued to lounge, picking up one of her patent law books and thumbing through it quickly as she exited into the bedroom.
Closing the door behind her, first thing Rogue did was kick off the heels she had been wearing. Going barefoot in her stalkings, her gloves and jacket came off next, being tossed onto the bed. She pulled the short sleeve blouse out of her waistband and began undoing the buttons when something told her she was being watched.
Rogue barely had a chance to glance over at the window and see the shadow that had fallen over it through the drawn shades when the whole thing exploded. Shards of glass flying as a flash bang landed only a few feet away from her. Shielding her eyes, she only managed to keep from being completely blinded.
Thankfully, Rogue knew a few things about being blind.
The instant she saw the blurry figures she assessed where they were in relation to her and as they reached out she struck. Not bothering to care if she ripped up her skirt, she kicked out freely, feeling the textured Kevlar of a flak vest. A strike with her elbow sent someone down, their faces hid behind full masks.
Her vision clearing, the letters DHS became visible on the back of the one she felled. She only had a moment to consider this as the cocking of a shotgun behind her got her attention. Grabbing the man nearest, Rogue spun the agent around as a shield who the bean-bag round that was meant for her.
Suspicions confirmed, Rogue tossed the winded man away and attempted to make for an exit… only to get struck from behind by another agent wielding bean bag rounds… sending her spiraling to the floor…
…
They tried the flash bang trick on Pietro, but he was much too quick for that. As soon as he saw it flying through the exploding window he hid behind a half-wall with his eyes closed.
Flack-vest clad men burst through the front door and the window, a full tactical team from the DHS if the lettering on their vests were to be believed. They way they stood, the weapons in their hands, told Pietro that the government had indeed figured them out and followed them to their rented apartment.
Knowing Rogue’s room was on an outside wall, there were only two possibilities regarding his second in command. Either she would make an exit out the window, or she’d be surrounded by a tactical team as well.
Regardless, Pietro knew what he had to do.
Dodging forward at superspeed, he snatched up the USB drive from the table and whipped past the assault team. Hitting the window he leapt from the third floor onto the sidewalk below, absorbing the shock through his mutation.
Getting one glance at the DHS and FBI vans which were now parked in front of the Barclay, Pietro took off running.
…
“Woah, dude,” Pyro stopped in his tracks, noting all the federal agents swarming the building they had been holed up in for the past few days. “How’d they find us?”
“I do not know,” Dom grimaced and they started to backpedal, heading around a corner out of sight. “We head to the fall back point, meet up with Pietro and Rogue.”
“Yeah,” Pyro nodded, flicking his lighter nervously.
…
In the lobby of the one-time hotel, three mutants stood among federal agents who eyed them warily. Just as Scott was thinking of speaking up, Agent Cooper appeared in front of him.
“Well,” there was a satisfied smile on her face, “not only did we manage to recover stacks of information on the Acolytes, alias’ and whatnot, but we even bagged one.”
That surprised the optic mutant but he tried not to let it show, “Which one?”
“The female, Rogue,” she told him, “put up a decent fight, I’ll give her that.”
“What are you going to do with her?” Jean asked before he had a chance to.
“The usual,” Cooper shrugged, “holding cells, interrogations, etc.”
“Etc, huh?” Bobby said sarcastically.
“This is a Homeland Security collar,” she told him pointedly, “we’re not interested in experimentation, weapon testing… that’s for DARPA and military black ops. All I want is information,” her eyes turned back to Scott, “and I’ll do what I have to to get it. A deal’s a deal.”
Scott passed over a worn card which he had been carrying in his wallet for a long time, he’d almost forgot he had it. “He’ll be expecting your call.”
She took it, glancing at the words written on it before slipping the card into her coat pocket, “I think we can both call this a win.”
“I’ll call it a win when people like you,” he tried to keep his words even, “are no longer needed.”
“People like me are always needed, Mr. Summers,” she wasn’t fazed a bit at his words, “and for the record, I have nothing against mutants in general. I know of several benign mutants who do not worry me, but the rest of you… you’re all walking time bombs.”
“You’re only proving Magneto’s point,” he countered, “but it doesn’t have to be that way, we can live peacefully alongside humans.”
“That would be nice,” Cooper mused, “and I guess if that day comes, I’ll transfer to another department, whatever the next threat is, because there is always another threat. But until then,” she eyed him coldly, “consider yourselves on notice. Don’t give me a reason to have your school shut down. Neither of us wants to deal with that can of worms.”
Scott tightened his jaw, biting back what he wanted to say and attempting to keep the peace. He could not, would not, open a rift between them and the government, he had to prove that not every mutant was like Magneto.
“I’ll have a car take you to the airport,” she gestured to one of the agents who came forward. “Have a nice flight back to Westchester.”
…
A few hours later, Scott stood in the conference room at the school, the entire team, including the Professor, gathered around. Logan was back and the two had barely said three words to each other and for the moment that was fine by him.
“You led government agents straight to the Acolytes,” Storm shook her head, “and let them take one of them prisoner?”
“To be honest,” Scott sighed, “I figured Quicksilver and Rogue would get away, like always. I hoped that giving Cooper and her agents the chance to capture them would be enough for her to keep her end of the deal.”
“For what it’s worth,” Jean added, “she at least isn’t interested in experimentation on mutants, that much was genuine.”
“Of course, she’d be more interested in torturing Rogue,” JP added conversationally, then after everyone looked at him, “oh, sorry, ‘information gathering’,” he used air-quotes.
“It’s not like the Acolytes don’t kinda have this coming,” Bobby shrugged. “Whether they’re mutants or not, they keep breaking the law and hurting people.”
“Cruel and unusual punishment,” Jean countered, “they should be locked up, yes, dissected like lab rats, no.”
“Yes, well,” the Professor interrupted, “I think we can all agree that a government facility is not necessarily the best place for any of our kind to be held, guilty of criminal acts or no. I’ve been speaking to an old friend of mine this afternoon, I may have found us an alternative. Someplace where they can be held without the risk of being turned into a military lab specimen.”
“Care to elaborate, Professor?” Scott asked curiously.
“Not at this time,” Xavier answered politely.
“I wouldn’t worry,” Logan said gruffly from where he was leaning against the wall, “Mystique won’t let her daughter sit there very long, and if anything, the other Acolytes will get her out.”
“Most likely,” Ororo agreed with a tinge or worry. Mystique’s idea of a rescue would be to slaughter half of Homeland Security if she had to, and everyone knew it.
“If not, we’ve got Duncan on the inside now,” Scott added. “He’ll at least be able to warn us if the DHS starts to become unreasonable or if she’s transferred to a DARPA facility.”
“That’s something at least,” the headmistress nodded.
The group broke up after a little more small talk regarding the events in Philadelphia. As Scott went to leave, he found himself face to face with Wolverine, the shorter man always making people feel like they had to look up to him when in reality it was the opposite.
“Not bad,” was the last thing Scott expected him to say, “getting Agent Duncan an in with the Council like that. It was risky, didn’t think you had it in you.”
“It didn’t go the way I thought it would,” Scott pointed out, not sure how to take what seemed like a compliment from the man.
“It could have gone worse,” he shrugged, “but you did it anyway.”
“I made a tough call, Logan,” Scott crossed his arms, “today you happen to agree. What about tomorrow, or the next day? We gonna keep doing this song and dance?”
“Probably,” and with that the gruff man sidled off down the hallway leaving Scott to wonder if maybe this had all been a really bad idea.
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