Shiva

BY : Nemain
Category: X-Men - Animated Series (all) > General
Dragon prints: 5147
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men Evolution, or any of the characters from it. I make no money from from the writing of this story.






SHIVA—CHAPTER 2 (NC-17)

 

A/N Mille grazie a Foxfeather…she kicks ass. Go read her stuff….c’est tres magnifique…. J Disclaimers apply.

 

 

 





 

Remy
pressed his palm to the lock of the control room and stepped back so the scanner
could read his retinas. Not like
dere be many hommes avec[1]
des red eyes, non? He fully
expected to be alone in the control area and was therefore surprised to see
Jamie before him, his face pressed to the shatter-proof glass likkid kid
looking in a pet shop window. “Hey, mon
ami[2]. What you doin’ here?”

“Huh? Oh, uh…nothin’….you?” Jamie started guiltily when Remy spoke and
then puffed his chest out in defi of of the older mutant.

“Jus’
watchin’. Ain’t you s’posed to be
abed?”

“I’m old
enough to stay up, you know.” Jamie
flushed, hating to be reminding of his extreme youth. Remy nodded sagely, sure he had found the reason for Jamie’s
guilty jump. “ ‘Sides, Jubilee’s my
friend and I want to make sure Logan don’t kill her or nothin’.”

“Jamie, I
don’ tink dat you be much help if’n Logan get his claws into Sparky down
dere.” Remy smiled to soften his words
and joined Jamie at the glass. Jubilee
was crouched low and Logan, claws extended, swung at her. From their vantage point, Jamie and Remy
gasped in shock, sure the man was about to spear the small girl, but Jubilee
waited until the last second launlaunched herself upward, flipping neatly in
the air to land on her feet behind Logan.
The man growled and spun, slicing through the air with his claws. Remy sucked in a harsh, panicked breath,
pressing his hands flat against the glass in an effort not to pound on it and
scream at Wolverine to back off.

Jamie
tugged his coat and shushed him.
“Watch!” He pressed one finger
against the smudged glass and watched with wide eyes as Jubilee dodged another
swing, catching part of a blade on her calf.
A trail of blood spred red as she spun away and Logan’s nostrils flared
briefly in response to the injury.
Jubilee seemed not to notice the injury but Remy could see the pain
flash in her eyes as she landed hard on the bleeding limb. Jamie was jittering beside Remy, tapping his
hands nervously on the sill. “She
always wins…I think he lets her, but he makes it hard.” The boy’s hushed whisper grated on Remy’s
straining ears. The Cajun was alert for
any cries of pain or the thud of a falling body. The two combatants were circling each other like wildcats and
Jamie was now bouncing on his toes. “C’mon,c’mon,c’mon!” he muttered. Remy agreed with him wholeheartedly, his
voice lodged somewhere in his throat pntinnting him from adding his whispered
pleas to Jamie’s. Jubilee feinted right
then left but Logan was prepared. He tracked
her, not attacking nor defending, merely waited. Jubilee dropped low and sent a spray of plasma towards Logan’s
face but the man swept his arm over his face, sustaining only minor singing of
the hairs there and not the temporary blindness that she had hoped for. She continued her downward movement and
curled into a ball, rolling away fLogaLogan’s lunge. She was pinned against a wall and Jamie pressed his face against
the glass again, smearing it with his breath.
Remy found that he was doing the same thing and slowly pulled away,
leaving his fingertips pressed against the window, ready to charge it open if
need be. He did not know Logan well
enough to trust him yet but he kin hin his heart of hearts that the man would
not intentionally hurt anyone at the Institute.

“What she
doin’?” Jubilee had stretched out her
full length, looking like a puppy waiting to be scratched. Logan was advancing quickly and she seemed
to be waiting certain death or defeat.

When Logan was within arm’s reach
of the girl, she flipped her wrists and ankles, arching upwards into a
backbend. A quick kick-over brought her
upright and a punishing round-house kick that would have felled lesser men
landed across Logan’s jaw and Jubilee used her momentum to fall away from the
man’s lurch forward. Logan smirked and
reached for her, seizing the back of her tank top, pulling her in close to his
face. She smiled sweetly and gnashed
her teeth. Logan paused and burst out
laughing. “I think it’s a draw,” Jamie
informed Remy. Sure enough, Logan
clapped Jubilee on the back and the girl grinned broadly. She was ding ing sweat while Logan was dry
as could be, but Remy felt an unaccustomed acceleration in his heart. Jamie clapped to himself and knocked on the
glass, forgetting for a moment that the duelists could not hear him.

“Here—use
d’intercom…” Remy flipped a switch and
pushed Jamie towards the small microphone.

“Ur….good
fight?”

Logan
could be heard snorting and muttering about kids, but Jubilee’s voice fairly
shone with happiness. “Thanks,
kid! I’ll be up in a sec!” True to her word, Jubilee was in the control
room in a matter of moments, still sweaty and red from her work out but
grinning Her smile faded as she saw
Remy there, though, leaning as he was against the panels that controlled the
weapons sims. “What the hell do you
want?”

“Jus
checkin out what be happenin’ up here…”
Remy shrugged as if he could care less whether it was Jubilee or the
Dalai Lama who walked into the room.
Jamie eyed him narrowly, though, and slid close to his friend.

“Hey,
let’s go get some ice cream. Can we,
Jubes?”

“Sure,
kid. Let me get changed at meet me in
the kitchen.” She ruffled Jamie’s hair
affectionately and turned on her heel, pointedly ignoring Remy.

When the door slid
closed behind her, Jamie turned furious eyes on Remy. “I don’t know what you did to her, but never do it again!” He
punctuated his statement with a firm shove against Remy’s stomach that got him
nowhere but made him feel a little better.
Jamie mimicked Jubilee and turned sharply, storming from the room.

Remy stared at the
closed door for several long moments before speaking aloud to himself. “I be tinkin’ dat mebbe all dese gens nutty
as a fruitcake.”



Jean rolled
her neck and let her head thump against the window in Amara’s room. When Lance left, she had taken up shift, watching
over Amara as she sat and stared, bursting out in speech from time to time or,
in her best moments, making a stab at her homework. Jean had long since finished what little paperwork she had left
and was officially bored. Amara was
clutching some stone that seemed to glow from the inside out as if her life
depended on it, staring into nothingness and letting tears trickle down her
cheeks. Jean sighed in empathic
depression, the buzz that Amara seemed to have whenever Lance was near quickly
fading behind the blue-black waves of depression that always assailed the
telepath when she took the shift after the youth. The stars were coming out in the velvety sky and Jean wished that
she could feel them like they were living beings. Stars wouldn’t feel pain…they would always be happy. They wouldn’t be confused…stars are just
stars and have no worries. What’s there
to worry about when you’re a distant sun?
Jean mentally berated herself for this flight of fancy and schooled her
thoughts to less frivolous lines, moving to check on Amara’s well being. The bottle of pills stood untouched on the
nightstand next to the ever-burning brazier of herbs that Storm tended to
daily. The draperies fluttered around
Amara’s bed and the Nova Roman followed them with her eyes. Jean had still not gotten used to the new
décor in the girl’s room and the statuettes of the deities seemed to scorn her
with their blank eyes; Even her knickknacks think they’re better than me…
Amara turned to her now, her eyes alive again and piercing Jean. “Hey,
Amara. Can I get you anything?”

“Self-respect?” Amara sighed and sank against her pillows,
closing sunken eyes briefly with the effort it took. “I’m not dead, you know.”

“I never
said you were.”

“Lance acts
like I am. I’m just tired.”

“How does
he act like you’re dead?”

“He gives
me things like tributes…”she opened her hand to reveal the stone therein, “he
tells me confidences like I am a statue, and he…he cries. He cries over me.” Amara would never have normally revealed any of this, but she had
grown too tired to care about propriety anymore.

“Lance...cries?”

“He doesn’t
know that I know…he thinks I’m gone mentally.
He tried to get me to eat today.”

“Did you?”
Jean kept her tone neutral despite the rising curiosity about Lance.

“A
little. Made me sick.”

“You’ve
been running on empty for so long that your body doesn’t know what to do with
good food when it gets it…I can bring you some of those nutrition drinks ththeythey give you when you’re in the hospital for a long time…”

“No….I’ll
eat some broth tomorrow or something.”
Amara scowled briefly and turned suddenly-burning eyes to Jean. “I don’t feel guilty at alou kou know. I’m just sorry I am a failure.”

“What?”

“All of
this was because I wanted Scott for mine and Lance wanted Kitty for his. Somewhere things got tangled and I was not
smart enough or strong enough to fix it.
I’m ashamed that I was weak. I’m
ashamed that I let feelings break my concentration and make me screw up.”

“So you’re
not ashamed that you could have ruined several lives and that you were playing
with fire?” Jean did not bother to hide
her irritation.

“No. Things shifted in the middle and the plan
did not shift with it. That’s where I
failed. I did not change.”

Jean considered
her words carefully. “Did you ever stop
to think that maybe, just maybe, you are afraid to change? That changing would make you grow up? Look, Scott and I aren’t together or
anything, but I know how he feels. I
also know that to change that would be unfair to him. If I wanted to make him stop loving me, for example, that would
be selfish. How would you like it if
someone…Lance, for example…told you that you could no longer love Nova
Roma? What if he said that you would
had to love Westchester ince oce of home.”

“Never! Westchester is dull and gray! Nova Roma is…oh.”

“See?”

“Good
night, Jean. I want to sleep now.”

 

Jean found
Jubilee in the kitchen. The Asian girl
was swirling the remains of a sundae around a bowl and, judging by the stack in
the sink, she had not recently been left alone. “Hey.” Jean’s head was
throbbing from her encounter with Amara and she searched desperately for the
painkiller.

“Rog“Rogue took
it—said she had a whammy of a backache.”
Jubilee sighed and moved to tip her dish into the sink. “Said she got it in the Danger Room but
Jamie thinks she’s being drained.”

“Oh?” Jean downed two naproxen and grimaced when
they stuck in her throat.

“Said she
seemed weak---I swear, that kid is really into the spy thing now!” Jubilee leaned sorely against the sink and
Jean smiled at the image of Jamie as 007.


“He’d
better stay away from Remy, then. That
guy is itching for a prodigy.” The
girls shared a laugh before Jean sank into a chair, stretching her long legs
out in front. “So what’s up with you
two, anyway?”

“Nada. He’s into Rogue.”

“You sure
about that?” Jean had seen the way the
Cajun looked at Jubilee and her own toes curled at the sight.

“Fairly. And I think Jamie has a crush on me.” Jubilee studied her nails then, a little too
embarrassed to look Jean in the eyes.
“I keep catching him trying to look down my top or staring at me. And he got all huffy with Evan when the poor
guy bumped into me in the hall this morning.”


Jean could
not help herself. She giggled. “Jamie Madrox has the hots for Jubilation
Lee. I can see the wedding
announcements now. The happy couple registered at Bed, Bath, and Beyond as
well as Toys-R-Us…Jubilee Madrox…I can see it!” Jean dodged a spray of mild pafs and Jubilee bit out a
rather harsh curse in Chinese before haring of bed bed. Jean giggled for a few more moments and used
her abilities to make herself a glass of chocolate milk. Sipping the cold beverage, she let her
thoughts turn to that topic which had been preying on her mind of late. Scott.
Scott had left her alone for the most part since their last kiss but he
had never left her thoughts, not really.
She found herself in the uncomfortable position of being obsessed. Driven to find the root of feelfeelings for
Scott, Jean followed him mentally and physically. She watched him interact with strangers at school and with
friends at the mansion. She watched him
watch her. She knew that he loved her and even knew how he would love her
physically, but she could not bring herself to think long on that. Jean saw the dark window at the far side of
the kitchen and felt drawn to it.
Pressing her forehead against the cooling glass, Jean saw a brief flare
of a lighter and then the softly glowing cherry of a cigarette. Remy. What’s he out there for?
Aside from smoking…He was hidden in the shadows and Jean could feel
his angst wag ovg over her. I hate
being empathic. He shifted in the
shadows and seemed to lean against the pillar holding up the overhang. I wonder if he wants company… She was saved from finding out, though, by
Rogue’s sudden appearance in the kitchen.
She did seem the worse for wear, her eyes darting like rabbits to and
fro, her hands held stiff as he whe were fighting off a tremor. “Hey…what’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Why d’you think something’s wrong?” Rogue’s voice slurred the words into one
long word, makingn shn shake her head in near-dismay.

“Slow down,
girl!”

“Can’t…gotta
go…” Rogue snapped an apple and a handful
of grapes from the fruit bowl and trotted from the kitchen.

Jean turned to find that Remy was
gone. Or at least hidden again in the
shadows. What the Hell is wrong with
us? Is it the mansion? Maybe it’s got some weird mold that makes
mutants lovesick… Taking up her
glass of milk, Jean retreated to the shadows of the rec room and listened as
Remy slipped in through the side door.
He was quiet but not intentionally so, not bothering to mask his
footfall on the linoleum of the kitchen.
Jean sipped her milk and waited until he saw her, acknowleg hig his nod
with a salute of her glass. He took a
bottle of water from the fridge and stood in the doorway between the two rooms,
regarding Jean carefully. “Tirea
ca
chere?”

“Eh. You could say that.” Tired
of confusion…

“Moi aussi.” They both turned as one when Kurt stumbled
sleepily into the room on his way to the kitchen. “Bon nuit, mon ami!”[3]

“Heh. Any chocolate syrup left?”

“Yeah…bottom shelf,” Jean directed
him. Soon all three were scattered in
the dark rec room with their respective beverages, sitting in companionable
silence. Finally Jean spoke, “Kitty
asleep?”

“Ja. She ist a very had sleeper…”

Remy snorted, “Test that theory,
homme?”

“Nein---pervert!” Kurt snorted too, signaling the jocularity
of the comment. “Something’s up mit
meine Freundin.[4] She went to bed early the I ran into her in
the hall and she was…giddy!”

Jean rolled this over in her
mind. “She get any calls between
times?”

“Nein…”
“She got dem two letters,
homme!” Remy’s voice drifted from a darkened corner.

“Ja—one from someone in Chicago and
one from Ruth. She didn’t read the one
from Ruth so it must have been the other one…”
Jean and Remy made agreeable noises and the three fell into
silence. Kurt opened his mouth to say
something else but found himself hanging from a light fixture when a shriek
pierced the stillness of the mansion.
“Katzchen!”

 

 

A/N Oy. Short and slow chapter…bear
with me…. Please?



[1] Just in
case: hommes= men, avec=with

[2] talking to a
guy, mon ami. A girl, mon amie. Means “my friend” either way.

[3] Good
evening, my friend! (or good night)

[4] my
girlfriend (thanks, foxy)


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