DISCLAIMER: If you know them and love them (or hate them), they aren't mine. If you don't know 'em, they are.
DISTRIBUTION: If you would like permission to archive this story, please email: mydestinyfic@yahoo.com.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my first attempt at an XFic. If you don't like it, don't read it. I'd like to thank the ladies of the WXF for their support and encouragement. Special thanks to Albertina, Chase and Joanne for beta'ing this for me. Big sloppy baby kisses to Cyn and baby Nicky for their special brand of ego-boostin'. And, finally, if you like it, please let me know. I've already got a few sequels spinning in my brain. Eve and Logan will not be stopped.
SPECIAL NOTE: Look Ma, all that thesis research came in handy for something!
As the first hints of sunlight made an appearance over the horizon, Eve settled herself on the edge of the copper fountain that stood in the middle of Storm's rose garden. She dipped her fingers into the calm, reflective surface of the water, all the while pondering her fractured image. It suited her. She thrust her hand violently at the water and her image distorted beyond recognition.
In a few short hours, the change would be well under way. There would be no one to help guide her through the process. She would have to see it through alone. As much as Jean and Xavier wanted to make this easy on her, there were things they simply couldn't do. It wasn't safe. Besides, they had Logan to worry about. He was at far greater risk than she.
Logan. What could she say to prepare him? Would he even listen if she tried? She wasn't foolish. He was the only one who saw the predator inside of her. He saw what she had done to Jean's arm. Though she hadn't spoken of it again, Eve was aware that Jean had silently favored her injured appendage all evening. She hadn't said a word, going so far as to brush off Scott's quiet inquiries about it. Jean was protecting her, seemingly aware that Eve was holding on only by the slimmest of margins.
How much more before she cracked?
Eve breathed deeply, hunting desperately for the false cloud of serenity that she had tried to hide behind the day before. Her hand felt it's way to the soft swell of her stomach. There were the children, her usual source of peace. How much longer would they be there? Three hours, maybe four. A tiny voice inside her said, "maybe he won't come back". But, she knew better. He would be back. Once he had broken through his fear and made a commitment to anything, he always saw it through.
It was that feature of his personality that was the source of her discomfort. Though Jean and the Professor seemed sure that he would not be affected by the chemical exchange of the bite, she could not find it in herself to be so sure. Though they had the answers to the physiological questions, no one had said a thing about the psychological ramifications. They had never seen a scrawny, painfully thin creature crawl on it's hands and knees begging for the bite, slashing at its wrists in hopes of inciting some kind of predatorial passion. She had seen it all before. It could be quite compelling.
Did she, she wondered, have it in herself to refuse him if he asked for it?
The rational, calm part of her brain said yes. But, the other part of her remembered their exchange in Xavier's study. A sudden flash of claw and a wrenched arm. They'd gotten off easy that time.
Eve stood abruptly, brushing off the skirt of her dress. She walked across the lawn in reckless strides. There was no more time for introspection. There were things she had to do before the time came. Before going up to bed, Jean told her that Logan had requested that it be over before noon. Apparently he had plans to watch a basketball game with several of the children in the evening.
If it was the last thing she did, she would make sure he lived to see that game.
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
Logan paced the hall outside Jean's lab frantically, pausing from time to time to take wild glances at the door. Something was wrong. He knew it. He'd smelled it the moment he walked into the school. The stink of the Professor's fear hung heavy in the air. There was something wrong with Jean too, something in her eyes that she wouldn't let him see.
At least she wasn't around, lurking like a goddamn spider in the corner, spinning away while the rest of them lost their minds. He couldn't take that piercing, silent stare this early in the morning. His stomach felt queasy, the need to wretch imminent. He told his body that it was a simple lack of food, but he didn't believe it. He was rattled.
The door to Jean's lab swung open and the Professor rolled out. He said nothing, simply sat staring at him. A flash of guilt and some other nameless emotion crossed Xavier's face. About damn time you realized these were real lives yer fucking with, Logan thought. As much as he admired and respected the man, he couldn't help the bitter swell that was choking him. Maybe it was the exhaustion that was making Xavier so reckless. He was desperate to protect them all from every mutant threat that came along. As he watched the Professor glide silently down the hall, a raised hand rubbing desperately at the exhaustion on his face, Logan found himself wondering if Xavier had pressed too far, wondering if he would be able to find his way back.
Logan turned abruptly and pushed his way into the lab. Jean stood at a counter, patiently testing some kind of electronic device with wires and a freakish headband. If he didn't miss his guess, he was destined to get to know those particular pieces of hardware really well before the end of the day.
"Those fer me?" he asked gruffly.
She nodded a bit stiffly.
"Yes," she said, her voice crisp, "we'll need to use these because I'll be too busy monitoring your vitals to keep track of your brainwaves too."
"What about the Professor?"
She shook her head violently.
"He's not going to be there. He told me this morning that he felt it was best that he not attend."
"You're fucking kidding me," he said through clenched teeth. "This is his goddamn hit parade and he's staying out of it. I can't believe this." As he spoke, he swung his hand violently at a stack of glass beakers, feeling only marginally satisfied by the sound of tinkling glass.
"Logan, something happened last night while you were away," she said.
"What? Did he get a headache?" he said nastily.
"No Logan," she said, her frustration with the Professor quickly evaporating in the face of her irritation with him, "he talked to Eve. I don't know what was said. I'd already gone to bed. But, whatever she said to him was pretty devastating. Somehow he had managed to convince himself that she was at peace with the change. I'm not sure why, maybe because she screens him out of her mind so well. I don't know."
She looked at him, her eyes sad, a wrinkle of worry creasing her brow.
"All I know is that he asked me to handle the 'procedure'. He said that he'll take care of the aftermath. I don't even know what that means. I don't know what is going to happen to her. I just keep remembering that they were going to use her to kill us. And, the Professor doesn't seem to be up to making this easier on any of us."
"That's it, I'm leaving," he snarled. "We just call the whole fucking thing off. Hey, if the Happy Meal isn't here, what are they gonna do?"
"You can't leave," a quiet voice said from the doorway.
Logan turned around. Rogue hovered just inside the room. Great, just what he needed.
"Look," he said, "I don't know what's gotten into you, but no one tells me I can't leave."
"You can't go," Rogue said. "You can't start running from this. If you start, you'll never stop. Look at what she's giving up for us. Doesn't that rate a couple of pints of O negative?"
"It's not that simple, Marie," he said. "We don't know what's going to happen here. Last night she said something that rattled the Professor real good. Who's to say we aren't next."
"You don't understand. There's stuff you don't know. Stuff she can't tell you about. Stuff she won't tell you about."
"But she'll tell you, right?" he asked bitterly.
"Yes," Rogue said, swallowing heavily, "she did tell me. She told me so I would understand that I'm not the only one who has to live my life bein' unable to do the things I want to do. I've got dreams, Logan, and so does she. But, I was lucky. I found you and the Professor found us and we're safe. She isn't. She's so afraid, scared of what she can do. She's a killer, Logan. Just like me. When it's done, she's going to hide away, curl up in a ball like a dead thing. There's gonna be this pain, this awful pain. But, it won't be as bad as she thinks it's going to be, because the Professor will be with her. He told me, inside my head, so she wouldn't know. He isn't going to make her face the darkness alone. I don't know just what he's planning, but he knows what he's doing."
"She told you this?" he asked.
She nodded.
"Did you ever really try to talk to her, Logan? If you had, maybe you'd know just as much as I do. Hell, you'd probably know even more," she said. She reached up and pressed her gloved hand against his face before turning and walking out the door. He knew he wouldn't see her again before it was time. Minutes were tumbling quickly past and he had an appointment to keep.
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