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Deep Cover	By : superbang Category: X-men Comics > FemSlash - Female/Female Views: 3082 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men comics, or any of the characters from it. I make no money from from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Deep Cover
- 2-II
- 3-Chapter 3
- 4-Chapter 4
- 5-V
- 2
- 3
- 4
Warning:

This story is for adults only! The story has strong sexual and violent content. It also contains offensive language. If such content makes you feel uncomfortable, or you are not old enough according to the law, the author would suggest that you read no further.

Disclaimer:

All of the characters in this story are the property of Marvel Comics. The author makes no claim of ownership on these characters. It is a parody, written for entertainment and not profit. If you wish to make money off of Marvel, buy stock. I did.
Feedback is always welcome at superbangjason@yahoo.com

For more quality fanfic go to http://groups.yahoo.com/group/NaughtyMarvelFiction/

Deep Cover � Chapter 3

It was the same dream as before�

Its night, the moon is full.

The moon is always full when I dream of her.

I climb the stairs of the temple in the silvery light.

(I�m not sure why)

I pass the marble columns that rise from the floor and into the black ether above.

Shafts of white disappearing in blackness.

It looks unreal in the moonlight.
Inside it�s pitch black. I go in.

The priests have let the fires burn out.

This angers me, I know it will anger her.

(She can be so angry)

I walk through the courtyard with the statues of her.

Her visage glows, white marble, white shine.

It looks unreal in the moonlight.
Finally I come to her chamber.

She�s not here but the bed�s been slept in.

I know because her side of the bed is still warm.

(She can be so cold)

It�s our bed, but she is not here.

The temple is a cold place once the Goddess leaves.

It looks unreal in the moonlight.
I walk out the passage and into the plaza.

The city is dead. Rome is dead.

Bones shine in the sundered streets.

(She wants it to end)

I want to cry.

This is a city of bones.

It looks unreal in the moonlight.
I call her name and she comes like nightfall.

Quickly, silently, she is with me.

She asks if I have anything for her.

(She wants so much)

I give her the knife.

She bids me disrobe and lie on the altar.

I do.

The knife is real in my heart.

* * * * *
"Saint!" was the cry that broke her from her dream.
She awoke in a jolt, body convulsing like she�d been stabbed. Sara St. James frantically looked about the van, concerned faces in black body armor looked back at her.

"Who? Where? Why is it so dark in here?"

Then she remembered; the stakeout� Hydra� Uranium� She fucking fell asleep before a raid.
"Are you alright boss-lady?" The corporal with the Brooklyn accent asked with an amused voice.
"Fine." Sara barked trying to regain control of a situation. "What�s our sit-rep?"
He cocked his head to the side and giggled, brown bangs poking out from under his helmet. "We was waiting for the word from you?" He reached out and adjusted the sunglasses on her face. "Rough night? Or are you SHIELD types so confident that�cha always fall asleep before a raid?" The other men in the SWAT van let out a chuckle, unsure if the brash corporal was teasing or challenging her authority.
"Keep your mind on the mission." Sara said flatly. "I�m doing psychic surveillance, wait for my command and remember the point is to capture, not kill."
The brown haired corporal sat back on the bench. "I�ll settle for a 50/50 split."
She bit her tongue. She wanted to say something, down-dress this little upstart in front of his friends, but she held it back. He wasn�t SHIELD, he wasn�t military, just another N.Y.P.D. shithead. Cops, always more balls than brains. She could feel his excitement, his anticipation at the coming battle. He wanted it, could taste the glory and victory, the accolades of his fellow officers and admiration of the press. It was giving him an erection. One he�d like to use on her. She could feel the overwhelming fear of the other less experienced officers, but Dewey wanted this badly.
Her telepathic abilities had become much more acute since her encounter with Selene, since her life changed after one night with the goddess. With what could be a goddess, she corrected herself. All evidence pointed to Selene being a mutant; a particularly powerful type called an External. Sara had been doing a lot of research while using up her sick time. Interpol, SHIELD, and the CIA files were open to her. She learned what she could, Nova Roma, the Hellfire Club, and her personal cult. Everything was a dead end, asking more questions than answering.
Like the mutant theory. Under inspection it didn�t hold much water. Selene was too ancient, too powerful. What kind of mutant could spread its powers to another, could turn a ordinary human into�

"Into what?" she asked herself for the hundredth time.
Mutation couldn�t explain the increase in her psychic powers, in her physical strength increasing as well as reaction time. Mutation could not turn her eyes red and give her this constant hunger. Her DNA was unchanged, Sara had checked, twice, with different laboratories and on her own dime.
Her personal days had been used up; her vacation and sick leave were almost exhausted when Director Hill offered this assignment. It was perfect. She couldn�t turn it down. Help New York�s finest prevent the sales of fissionable materials from scientists to terrorists. It kept her away from the retinal scanners of SHIELD headquarters. Not to mention lessened her chances of running into another psychic.
The only problem was that after today, that mission would be complete. She fell into that category of being too good at her job. The police detained their suspects. She listened in on their thoughts until the next link in the chain was revealed. It wasn�t admissible in court, but that wasn�t the point. Preventing nuclear holocausts threw constitutional rights out the window as far as Sara St. James was concerned. She didn�t care if each of these wankers walked free so long as they did it without irradiating the East Coast.
Sara reached out with her mind, past the apprehension inside the van and into the nervous minds inside the building in question. She couldn�t believe the gall of these terrorists. During the week that storefront was a daycare center. She supposed they didn�t care if a few children came down with cancer so long as their precious demands were met. She listened in to their conversation as they loaded the material into a lead chest.
"Second floor apartment 2-A." Sara whispered. "Green light."
The van exploded with activity as the SWAT team leapt out the back door in a well-trained attack pattern. Sara followed the attack with her mind, eyes closed and mouth drawn into a thin line. Sara marveled at the ease that she could perform such a feat as this, six months ago the strain would have given her a nosebleed.
Gunshots echoed. Her mouth dropped open, something was wrong. The stress, anger, and fear of her assault team spiked, driving a painful twitch into her brain. She felt an officer drop, being cradled into the arms of another as white-hot agony speared through his chest. Another dropped into shock as he stared at the spurting stub where his hand was a moment ago.
They were getting torn apart.
She didn�t think. Training replaced reason as Sara drew her machine pistol and jumped out the back. The glass windows of the daycare center exploded outward as her feet hit the ground. People on the street ran in panic or turned and stared, hiding behind parked cars and other pedestrians. Sara�s blue uniform was the last thing they saw as she leapt into the smoking rubble.
She rolled forward, eyes shut against the blinding smoke. She didn�t need. She knew where the staircase was from someone else�s memory, but she had to navigate the rubble from the collapsed ceiling by touch. Up she charged, into the maelstrom of hate and fear. Her heart sank as she felt it diminish, death silencing the psychic cries of her team.
A heavy blow knocked her to her knees; all she saw was a yellow flash as the world seemed to crash down on her for a second time. Throwing her arms over her head she tried to roll away, a great weight prevented and movement. She felt the earth shudder and the breath burst from her lungs.
Her last thought scares her to her very core. "I don�t want to die hungry."

TBC�
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Deep Cover