…SUCH MEN ARE DANGEROUS
PART SEVEN
Ororo dented the Heavy Bag with ferocity. Punches, kicks, backhands, elbows… whatever it took. Her teeth were clenched in rage, her eyes flaring over with the same. With each hit she increased both her speed and her force. Outside the thunder roared across the sky, shaking the very building.
Standing in the entrance of the private home gym, Victor Creed leaned his arm against the doorframe.
"What’s she doin’." He asked Dr. Stevens.
"I believe the term is venting, sir." He said stiffly.
Creed looked over his shoulder at the shorter man. "You got a problem with me, Spike?"
Stevens’ breathing was very tense and controlled. "No, sir. Why would you think something like that?"
"Hell-if-I-know." He snorted. "I ain’t never seen her this vicious before. Where’s all this energy comin’ from?"
"Emotion, sir. Emotion is an energy unto itself. Ms. Munroe is unable to freely experience her emotions, for the danger it would cause others. And as keeping emotion bottled up is neither mentally nor physically healthy, Ms. Munroe is forced to find other methods of releasing pent-up emotions."
"I wonder what could have gotten her so gosh darn riled?" He asked innocently.
"I wouldn’t know… sir."
For three weeks, Ms. Kesh had been missing. Her horribly mangled body had been discovered two days earlier in Westchester County. Victor had told his wife, that the X-Men were suspect.
Dr. Stevens was not fooled. He knew who was responsible for Kesh’s death, and Victor knew he knew.
"There are some supplies I need to pick up from the University, sir. I should be back by evening."
"Whatever."
Dr. Stevens left with fists clenched inside his jacket pockets.
Creed entered the gym walking along beside the wall, making no sound on the polished wood floor. Not that any sound could be heard other than that of Storm’s impact and effort on the innocent bag.
‘She’s royally pissed. …On fire.’ He thought, which was just the way he liked his women. ‘Mystic use'ta get that way… ‘Course… that’s how we ended up with Graydon. Shit. Maybe I should’a kept Kesh around a little longer. Could’a used her right about now.’
Ororo thrust her fist into the bag in a rapid-fire motion, followed by a sidekick and continued punches. She knew someone was standing nearby, but she did not pause in her assault.
She was pained. Ororo blamed herself for Kesh’s death. She had gone to the X-Men on her behalf, because of her foolish doubts.
Her doubts.
When Victor told her what had happened to Kesh, what the X-Men had done, she felt sick. Victor could not understand what she was doing near them in the first place. She was unable to bring herself to tell him.
Inside, she was angry, hurt, upset—all at the same time. All those emotions swimming around inside of her, and lest she endanger thousands of lives, she was forced to keep them all insider her.
Kesh was dead. It was her fault. She had to let the emotional energy-- the guilt out before it drove her mad.
"Ro." Victor said quietly. He had decided he had better put a stop to all of this before he lost it and blew his whole scheme. Her violent actions were turning him on waaaay too much. The short two piece spandex aerobics suit she was wearing wasn’t helping matters.
"Ro." He put a hand on her shoulder. As a complete reflex reaction, Ororo swung back and hit Victor in the head so hard he actually stumbled. She continued her assault on the bag, not even realizing what she had done.
Victor grabbed the side of his head. ‘What the fu— She’s a hellova lot stronger than she looks.’
"Ororo!"
In a flash, Ororo spun around and jumped at Creed pinning him to the wall, her arm against his throat. Her teeth still clenched, she hissed angrily at him.
He narrowed his eyes to match hers.
‘She knows.’ He thought bitterly. ‘Time to end this.’
Creed was not easily surprised. There were few things in this world he was unprepared for. This was one of those rare moments.
She kissed him.
Before he could make his move, Ororo quickly adjusted her arm, grabbing the sides of his head and pulling his mouth down onto hers, kissing him roughly.
After the initial shock wore off, he pulled back. Both were gasping for breath. Her eyes were still coated with rage, but they were also widely dilated with desire. A savage desire. She was serious.
‘Hell, she started it…’ He thought. He grabbed her and kissed her again, with the same viciousness that she had. She pushed against him kissing him harder. It was as thought they were competing for who would be in control of these actions—a competition that would not be won by either this day.
Ororo brought her hands down from his face, down by his neck and to the collar of his T-shirt. She grabbed hold and ripped open the front of his shirt.
‘She likes t’play rough.’ He thought, pleasantly surprised.
Ororo ran her hands along his neck and down across his bare chest. Her mouth followed. Sabretooth ran his hands down her back and underneath the elastic waist of her shorts. One of the few things Ororo did remember was that she did not wear underclothes. She could no more fathom the reason for wearing clothes under your cloths than she could for putting clothes on to go swimming. Because of this, Victor was now grabbing hold of her bare skin. Ororo brought her mouth back up to his and her hands reached down to unbutton the top of his jeans. He scooped her up and dropped to his knees, laying her back onto the polished wood floor. Leaning over her, he sliced open her top exposing her breasts. He took them in his hands and roughly massaged them, then leaning closer he buried his face in her cleavage. Ororo meanwhile, who had already kicked off her shoes, was using her feet to push Creed’s jeans down the rest of the way. He treated her shorts in the same manor as her top, and slid his hands between her legs. She tilted her head back and he wildly began lapping and sucking at her neck. The hands that had been fondling her now grabbed each of her thighs and pulled them apart. He lay himself between her legs. Ororo arched her back as he pushed into her. She clawed her fingers into his shoulder blades. The pain from it on served to heighten his arousal.
‘Maybe married life ain’t so bad after all.’
* * * * *
Early the next morning.
Creed lay with one arm behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. One of his legs was draped over the side of the bed; the other was lost somewhere in the tangle of sheets. Beside him, Ororo fidgeted slightly in her sleep. He cast his eyes towards her for a moment. She was curled up on her side with her back to him.
The two had effectively worked their way up to the master bedroom over several long hours. Some of the furniture was going to need to be replaced.
His eyes went back to the ceiling.
‘I’ll give the runt this… he knows how t’pick a frail.’
Throughout their little romp, Ororo had continued to surprise Creed. Ororo, although no one would doubt her power, had always carried herself with an air of dignity, passiveness, and gentleness. All things that bored him. He never would have guessed she had another side, one that was savage and wild. She’d even bitten him a couple of times, which he thoroughly enjoyed. He was beginning to understand that her powers were not just something she controlled externally. They were a part of her—untamed fury and all. He was strongly considering keeping her around a little longer than he had originally intended.
"Shit." He said to himself, realizing a missed opportunity. ‘Should’a taped this. Would’a been nice t’send the runt a copy.’
Ororo, still asleep, turned over and draped an arm over his bare chest.
‘That’s it. Outta here.’
Not a big fan of "touchy/feely cuddling", Creed slid out from under her arm and got out of the bed. After grabbing a pair of his pants he headed towards the kitchen to get something to eat. He noticed a couple of letters that had been slipped thought the mail slot addressed to Brian Tope. He didn’t bother picking them up.
Brian Tope. It was the same name on the Construction Company he currently had control of. The same name on the deed to this house. It would be the same name on the headstone if anyone ever found what was left of the body. Sabretooth had fallen back on some of his Department H training, and surveyed Mr. Tope for several months before making his move. The man had no family, few friends and though he had owned the company outright, to those actually running the business, he was little more than an e-mail address that handed out checks. No one would miss him, which had made him the perfect volunteer for Sabretooth’s plan.
Creed had just opened a can of beer when Dr. Stevens solemnly walked into the kitchen.
"I suppose you will no longer be requiring my services, sir."
"What the hell you talkin’ about, Spike?"
Stevens held up two articles of cloth. What was left of Ororo, work out suit.
"Oh. That." Creed snorted and took a swig.
"I also notice several pieces of furniture that will need some repairing…"
"You ain’t goin’ nowhere Spike."
"But I thought… You said once Ms. Munroe… You’re not going to kill me, are you?"
"…I haven’t decided that yet. But fer today yer safe—less’ ya piss me off."
"I—I see." Stevens swallowed with some difficulty and tried to stop his legs from going out from under him.
Sabretooth grinned. "Ah, I love the smell of fear in the mornin’." He took a drink.
"Is—is there something that you wish me to do, sir?"
"‘Bout what?"
"About Ms. Munroe?"
"What about me?"
Ororo walked into the kitchen behind Stevens. She was smiling and wearing a long satin robe. Stevens’ eyes nearly fell out of his head.
"M-Ms. Munroe? You’re—you’re…"
"Oh," Ororo said, noticing the rags in the doctor’s hands. "I am sorry about that. I suppose we did make something of a mess." Ororo looked up to Creed, who smiled back.
"I-uh, I…"
"Was just leavin’." Sabretooth finished for him.
"Yes. I was just leaving." He turned to go.
"Um, Dr. Stevens…" She motioned to the torn clothing in his hands.
"Oh, yes." Stevens handed them to her. "It is—good to see you Ma’am."
When he left, Ororo looked at Creed strangely.
"What was that about? He looked as though he had seen a ghost."
Creed waved a hand. "Doc’s always been too jumpy for his own good."
* * * * *
A tense silence hovered over the breakfast table of the mansion. It was an odd feeling for all of them. Ororo was where she didn’t belong, but they could do nothing about it at the moment. Until they figured out what they could do, they had to try to continue with their lives. It wasn’t easy.
They were quietly scattered about the room. Logan was took a drink of his coffee as he stared hard at something in the middle of the table that wasn’t there. Hank hid his face and, in an unusual step, his thoughts, behind the morning newspaper. Jean stared out the glass doors towards the lake. Rogue was by the stove.
Remy walked into the kitchen, poured himself a cup of the very strong coffee and took a seat. He jumped up only moments later and snatched the paper from Henry’s hands. It caused several members of the room to jump.
"What the hell are ya doin?" Logan asked.
Remy ignored him and smoothed the paper down as his eyes quickly ran over an article.
"Remy?"
"Dat’s it!"
"What’s it? What are ya talkin’ about, Sugah?"
"Look." Remy slid the paper over to Logan. He pointed out an article to him. It was about the body that had been discovered by police a few days earlier. The coroner was releasing that young woman’s wounds were consistent of those of someone who had been mauled by a wild animal. However, the fact that she had also been sexually assaulted was baffling police.
"Wild animal my ass! Don’t that MO sound a little famil’r to you."
"So there’s another we owe Creed for. Don’t see what yer hyped about?"
"D’name, Logan. D’name! Don’t ya know who dat is?"
"Valerie Kesh." Logan shrugged.
Remy looked around at the others who had gathered. He was met with equal reactions.
He rolled his eyes.
"I gotta take you guys down t’the streets more of’n."
"Remy!" Logan’s patience was understandably thin as of late.
"Valerie Kesh is—was a mutant. She and her partner Spike. Spike be a doctor who useta patch up folks wit no questions who didn’t want no records kept."
"Folks like you." Rogue commented. Remy smirked. "Never had the pleasure pers’nally, but some o’my brood did."
"Is this goin’ somewhere?"
"Both these two, they got the power to change minds. Dey ain’t telepaths ‘xactly, dey c’n alter your thoughts. They useta make people ferget they saw them after patchin’ them up, but the Elixir d’T’ieves take, it nullify d'eir power, so we know ‘bout dem."
"So… one of these mind manipulators turns up dead, apparently by Sabretooth, after Storm seems to suddenly forget who we are and thinks she’s married to him."
"You really pulled dat one together frere. ‘C’n see why dey make you d’leader."
"Question is," Scott continued, ignoring Gambit’s remark. "How do we use this information?"
"Storm is a first caliber psi-blocker." Jean said, more to herself than to anyone else. "They may not have been able to change her all the way. They may have had to supplement."
"Supplement?"
"Match things from her previous life—her life with us, to things in her current life with him. Familiar things."
"Common, Gumbo," Wolverine said, getting up. "You and me are gonna find out where this Spike is."
He ran out of the kitchen, Remy right behind him.
To Be Continued…
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