Quixotic

Quixotic Chapter Twenty Five (NC-17)

Disclaimers Apply

 

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST
WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta…how were the Bailey
Balls? And for that matter, the
oranges? J InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink and Dracena
are extremely sparkley and wonderful for archiving/hosting! J ProPhile is a poll muse as well, lol. Readers/Reviewers: Big, huge duck kisses for
all of you! Thankyouthankyouthankyou!!!

 

 

 



“Ow!”
“What the
Hell were you thinking?”

“I was
thinking I didn’t want to get hit, yo!
Looks like that didn’t pan out!”
Todd rubbed his cheek where Rogue’s gloved hand had left a red mark. “What
was that for?”

Rogue’s
lips were compressed into a thin line of worry as she glanced around the rec
room to see if the walls had ears. “I
thought you were over picking fights with Brotherhood twits!”

“I didn’t…” Todd rubbed his jaw thoughtfully,
pausing. “You mad cause I hit Pie-pie?”

“I don’t
fucking believe you!” she growled, running one hand through her bicolored
hair. “You just can’t let it go!”

“Well, what
the Hell am I supposed to think?” He crossed his arms over his chest and stared
furiously at her. “You get all twitchy
because I hit Pietro…”

“I got all twitchy
because you got arrested!” she snarled.
“God damn it, Todd!”

He
blinked. “Marie, what’s the fucking
problem?” he finally sighed. “I was
just defending myself… the the cops
said so!”

She closed
her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose as she bit back further acid
statements. Instead, she blew out a
harsh breath and asked, “How’s Amara doing?”

Todd shook
his head at this conversational hairpin turn and responded, “Lance and Storm
are getting hettlettled upstairs. She
says she’s fine, but she’s pissed because they cut part of her hair.”

Rogue made
a face. “She loves her hair. How much?
Is she,” she paused, the hint of a smile tugging her lips, “bald?”

“No,” Todd
snorted. “Just lopsided.”

“Happens to
the best of us,” Rogue sighed. “Look, I’m
sorry I slapped you.”

“I’m not
sorry I bitch slapped Pietro.”

“Neither am
I.”

“Okay then.” He nodded in finality, declaring the subject
tacitly closed.

“Okay.” Rogue rubbed her suddenly sweaty palms on
her jeans. “Your uncle called.”

“Which one?”
he asked grimly, his eyes shuttering. “An’
how they find this number?”

Rogue made
a fluttering motion with her hands, as if she were trying to capture light
winged words before they evaded her.
With an odd lilt to her voice, she said, “Sit down, Todd.”

His brows
furrowing, he shuffled over to the well-used sofa and sat on the very edge of
the cushion, looking ready to leap to his own defense at any moment. “I ain’t goin’ to see anyone at Riker’s.”[1]

“No one’s
in Riker’s…”

“There’s
more Tolensky’s in Riker’s than out,” he put in darkly.

“Todd, your
Uncle George called because…because…”

“Great. Who broke loose?”

“What?” her
voice went up a note, her mind trying to keep up with Todd’s nervous babble.

“If they
ain’t in, then they’re out. Who broke
out? Sal did when I was like three or
somethin’ but he didn’t get far… I think he got death row. I don’t remember now…”

“Todd, your
mom died!” Rogue finally exploded. “She
had a heart attack and died!”

His jaw
worked mutely for a moment as he stared blankly at her. “Oh,” he said after nearly a full
minute. “That it?”

“Well, yeah…”

“Okay
then. I’m gonna get a sandwich. You want?”

She stared
after him as he lurched to his feet and trod into the kitchen. The lights from the Christmas tree in the
front hall made eerie patterns in the dim rec room, everything set up for the
Professor’s party the next night. “Don’t
touch the cream cheese,” she said for lack of anything else as she followed him
several moments later. “Storm said that’s
for something else.”
Todd nodded and returned his
attention to his fluffernutter sandwich.[2] He hummed absently under his breath as Rogue
took a seat at the table, trying not to stare at him in confusion. “Juice?

“No,
thanks,” she murmured. “Todd…”

“Don’t,
Marie,” he whispered. “Just…don’t.”

 

 

“Quit
fluttering.”

“I don’t
flutter.”

“She’s
right. You’re fluttering.” Storm hid a grin as she fussed over Amara’s
blanket. “She needs rest, Lance. Don’t linger long.”

He
nodded. “Only a little while,” he
promised eagerly.

Amara
sighed and closed her eyes. “Or less.”
There was some sou sounds of movement and then the door closing, then
Amara opened her eyes. “I’m not in the
mood, Lance.”

“What makes
you think I want to have sex with you right now anyway?”

“You’re
seventeen. You’d have sex with anything
that moved.”

“Be nice,”
he said lightly. Now, he knew, was not
the time for assurances of his fidelity and devotion. Instead, he measured out two of the antibiotics and two of the
painkillers, setting them on her bedside table before pocketing the pill
bottles. Her knives are dull, I took
her shoelaces… What else?

She raised
a brow and winced with the effort. “I’m
not going to kill myself.”

Lance
paused, then in a false casual voice, asked, “What brought that up?”

“I saw the
knives this morning. And I had to wear
those awful zip up boots. I’m not going
to overdose on pills.” She let her eyes
fall shut again before adding, “You know, on Nova Roma, I was never ill a
day. Not really. Sometimes, I would pretend or exaggerate but
only when I really did not want to do something.”

“Why’d you
step out in front of the car?” His
voice bespoke insult, hurt and treason.
“Why’d you try to do that?”

“I didn’t
see the car,” she sighed. “That’s
all. Lance, you’re giving me a
headache!”

He dropped
to his knees beside the bed and pressed hheekheek to her breastbone. “Why are you like this? Why aren’t you
happy?”

Amara
sighed. He sounded very un-Lance
like. His voice was ragged, tears
threatening. “Don’t cry. If you cry, I shall scream.”

“Amara…”

“I didn’t
try to kill myself. I tried to hurt
myself.” There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?

“Why?”

She dropped
her hand to his head and began toying with the strands there as she
thought. “Because I hate myself. I have since the day I was discovered…” She sighed and tugged on his hair until he
looked up at her. “Not because of you,
not because of here. Because I am
responsible for the deaths of thirteen women and who knows how many
servants. Because I am the last of the
Aquilla line and I have destroyed a legacy.
Because,” she gulped, “I will never see Nova Romain.ain.”

Lance felt
a mixture of horror and tenderness as Amara finally wept. “That’s no reason to hate yourself,” he said
lamely.

“Then what
is?”

“Well…you
could be Pietro. I could see him
wallowing in self loathing for the hair alone.”

She stared
at him, agape, wounded pride writ large on her face. After a moment, her mouth snapped shut and she said furiously, “You
worry like an old woman!”

Lance
laughed under his breath at that. “At
least I don’t kiss like one…”

“As someone
who has never kissed an old woman, I cannot say for certain,” she responded
primly, her fingers stealing up to touch the shorter section of her hair.

“You know
about mistletoe?”

“Pardon?”

“I’ll show
you tomorrow,” he grinned. “ ‘Night,
Princess.”

“Night.” Amara stared into the dark after he left,
oddly content that it would be the first time in a long time she had her bed
entirely to herself for the night.

 

“Charles
know you’re drinking his brandy?”
“Yes. Does he know you’re skulking?” Emma downed half her drink in a most
unladylike swallow. “Sit. You make me nervous when you hover.”

Sean moved
the rest of the way into the room and took a seat in the armchair opposite Emma
before the fire. “What’s the occasion?”

“The
decision to stay on birth control until I’m well past menopause. Or the decision to have any offspring of my
loins cryogenically preserved until they’re eighteen and I can shift them off
to someone else.”

Sean
smirked faintly and inclined his chin in amusement. “Haven’t dealt with teenagers much, have you?”

“And you
have?” she asked dryly, finishing her drink and looking as if she were
seriously considering another.

“Large
family,” he replied, making it clear that he was not in the mood to expound.

Emma gave
in and rose to her feet, padding on stocking-clad soles to the credenza where
Professor Xavier kept his liquor.
Pouring another snifter of brandy, she held it out silently to Sean, who
took it after a moment’s hesitation. “How’s
Theresa?”

He
sighed. “Surly, she hates me and she
seems to have taken up with some boy.”

“Ah. Then she’s fine.”

Sean sipped
his drink more decorously than Emma. “She
hates me,” he repeated with emphasis.

“Like I
said…she’s fine. Everyone hates their
parents when they’re teenagers. Well,
most everyone. There’s always those
annoyingly well adjusted children you just want to smack on princip


He chuckled
at that and raised his glass in silent salute.
“I just wish there was a way to make her understand…”

“You cannot
make anyone do anything, not at the heart of it,” she murmured, staring
into the fire. “They do it because they
want to or they don’t. You cannot force
her to be some loving angel just because you want to make up for lost time.”

“Has anyone
ever told you to shut up?”
“Yes. But ask me if I listened.”

“Hm.” A
nearly companionable silence fell between them as the logs shifted in the fire
and the brandy ran lower in their snifters.
“So…you and Charles…”

Emma’s lips
curled in memory. “Long ago and far
away.”

“Ah.”

“Mmmm.”

“It couldn’t
have been that long ago,” he said after a moment. “You’re…what? Twenty
eight?”
Emma snorted on her
brandy. “Thank you,” she said with a
laugh. “I needed that.”

“Then how
old?”

“A lady
never tells.”
“And you’re a lady?”

“At the
moment. Catch me after enough drink
tomorrow at the party and I might not be,” she said with a wink, setting her
glass on the end table and rising. “Night,
Sean.”

“Emma,” he
called faintly as she gained the door. “This
party tomorrow…the students won’t be there, will they?”
She sighed. “They’re not supposed to be…
But I’m going to hedge my bets and say maybe.”

“I was
afraid of that.”



 

 

 



[1] A prison in
New York

[2] Greck. I had a friend from Michigan loveloved those
things. Marshmallow fluff and peanut
butter on white bread. Ick.