A Chance Offer

by Coda

The first thing Logan noticed about her was the smoothness of her skin. Brown like Egyptian sands, the woman's skin gleamed underneath the amber lights of the run down bar. She tossed a glossy mane of black behind her and a bitter shot of vodka into her as she slithered into the red vinyl seat across from him. Logan watched the green rattlesnake tattoo flex on the inside of her thigh. The tail, half hidden by the hem of her spandex skirt, shook with the promise of sweltering nights and broken dreams.

"Logan?" Her teeth were small and sharp like shards of broken glass. They glimmered like diamonds.

"Why're you sayin' my name like it's a question, darlin'?" Logan took a toke from his cigar and watched while the flames danced in the tobacco and in her eyes. "If you didn't know me by sight, Viper's not training ya the way ya oughta be trained."

She leaned forward and stuck a finger into his glass, stirring quietly for a few moments. The scent of orchids wafted from her frame. Satisfied with the ripples her lacquered nail made in the amber liquid, the woman withdrew the cosmetic talon and popped it into her mouth, sucking the alcohol caught underneath the nail.

Logan pushed the mug away from him.

She giggled. "Do you really think I'm going to poison you?"

He snatched the mug back and tossed the liquid into her face.

Her face contorted in anger; true colors blazed like Alaskan auroras and hothouse flowers--a mere moment of passion before the mundane backdrop settled back into place. She composed herself and shot Logan a saccharine smile as she wiped the stinging droplets from her eyes. "Looks as if you're as charming as Viper said you would be."

Her anger still writhed underneath the surface.

Logan blew a ring of smoke into the air. He signaled the barkeep for another glass. "You tell me why you're here and then you leave. Simple as that." He flicked the stub of his cigar across the table and watched it ski into the toppled glass. "And when you get back, tell Viper it's gonna take more than a piss poor Silver-Fox imitation to make me do whatever the hell it is she wants me to do." He bit the end from a fresh cigar and spit the butt at her. Flecks of tobacco clung to her breasts.

The fury reemerged, seeping like lava through the cracks in her carefully cultivated performance. She leaned over and hissed into his face. He could smell the scent of orchids on her fiery breath. "Viper's calling in her marker. Now."

The breeze shifted, carrying with it the familiar odor of blood and brandy to cut across the room. Logan's nostrils flared.

Creed.

"Talk."

"Have you seen the news reports?" Sweat sheathed her like spandex. Her hands trembled as she drew Logan's cigar from his mouth and slipped it into her own. She pulled heavily on it, like a man would.

"I ain't seen nothin'."

Her eyes loitered on two hustlers hovering near the pool table. Logan's gaze followed. He could see the same blurred rattlesnake tattoo etched across their thighs. The two women looked at each other nervously and started another game of pool. Logan snorted. Viper must need help if she was relying on operatives like these.

"Viper's been shut out of Madripoor--"

Logan's eyes sparked with interest. "Matsuo?" He had never suspected the kid would get the better of her.

"The police."

He threw a twenty on the table for the beer. "We're done."

"Where are you going?" Crocodile tears welled up in the girl's eyes. She looked up at him pleadingly.

"I don't like people lyin' to me."

"I know." She grabbed Logan's arm and caressed it gently, sliding her glossy skin against his. Traces of orchids and tobacco carried in the stale air. "I know. I'm telling the truth."

Logan narrowed his eyes. "Let's go."

********

She met him in Brooklyn--close enough to the emerald trees of Westchester to put herself at ease, and in a long standing community where he had confided that he would feel comfortable and secure as well. To decide so easily upon a meeting place was an important first step for both sides of the line, and Storm was well aware of that fact. As she stepped out of the cab and gazed up at the street signs, She issued a silent prayer that everything else between both parties would go as smoothly.

She strode down the surprisingly immaculate sidewalks of Boro Park, a white cloak shielding her glaring beauty. She towered over the Hasidim who brushed by her roughly, pushing their way through the densely packed streets. They plowed past her as if she was a wailing shade from Hades, a ghostly outsider not of their world. Storm felt a twinge of annoyance at being so blatantly ignored. She was accustomed to the prying eyes and inherent inquisitiveness of the people of her homeland, or even the residents of her old neighborhood in Harlem. As she watched the people refuse to meet her gaze, she decided that the residents of Boro Park would not be quick to rush to the aid of strangers. If she battled here, she battled alone. Realization swept across her like the hot sour wind that rises from New York City subway vents. She understood why Magneto had chosen this place.

"The people, the culture--I find it very beautiful."

Storm jumped as Magneto suddenly appeared behind her. The weather rushed to her aid, pushing him back several feet. Mothers up and down Thirteenth Avenue swaddled their children in blankets. They raised their heads towards the sky, their frowns a human shield against the unexpected gusts.

Magneto smiled and shook his head. His white locks danced around the collar of the ivory sweater he wore. "I did not mean to startle you, Ororo." He held out his hand. "Please."

She fell in step beside him, but refused to take the offered hand. Instead she tucked it back into her cloak and stared disdainfully at him. "I am not surprised you find it so wonderful here, Magnus. It seems the people are as cold and stand-offish as you are."

Magnus leaned in close to whisper in her ear. "It is no wonder they avoid you. Have you been wearing that scowl since the moment you arrived?"

His whispers stirred within her. Her skin flushed. Storm shivered as Xavier's warnings concerning the man rushed throughout her mind. She turned from Magnus's gaze; her eyes popped open in astonishment as she caught her reflection in a window display. Her beauty was marred by the deep frown she wore--a frown she had carried with her since the moment she had left her home--a frown that became even deeper as she realized that Magnus was right. She caught herself and flashed a dazzling smile at him. "It seems as though you are correct, Magnus. I suppose I should heed Xavier's teachings…"

Magneto's smile faded, and was replaced by a dour expression.

"…And welcome those that may fear and mistrust me with a sign of fellowship and good faith." Storm turned and tossed her radiant grin at two elder men playing a game of chess by the store window. They glanced at her oddly for a fleeting moment, then continued with their game as if she had never been.

Magneto's bellows of laughter added base to the melody of street noises.

Undaunted, and mildly irritated, Storm again flashed her smile at a young woman and child. The child, eyes wide with amazement, beamed back at Storm and tugged at his mother's skirts.

"Look Mommy, mensch!"

"Yes, David. I'm sure she is a very nice person." The young woman tossed Storm an exasperated grin, one that most mothers are famous for, before continuing with her shopping.

Storm stole a sly glance at Magneto. Pride shone in her eyes. "Well, Magnus?"

Magneto laughed and took Storm's hand in his own. He tried to remember the last time he had enjoyed himself so completely. An image flashed into his mind. Rogue. Pain seizing his heart, he tried to remember the time before that, and a second image rose up to meet him. Kitty. What was it about the daughters of Xavier that enraptured him so? He shook the thoughts from his mind and decided to focus on the few fleeting moments he would have with the captivating woman who stood before him. "Come, let's go someplace quiet where we can talk. You've asked me for a favor, and I would not be a gentleman if I did not let you plead your case."

*******

The limousine purred along at breakneck speed through the streets of Madripoor, coursing like blood through the shimmering veins leading it into the heart of Madripoor's Hightown. Elizabeth Braddock examined her shadowy reflection floating in the indigo tint of the limousine window. Violet eyes flitted back and forth across the slopes of her features like butterflies.

"Can't say I'm too excited about butting heads with any members of the Hellfire Club after what happened last time." Warren pushed a small silver button set in the car's main control panel and hummed with satisfaction as both windows slid down. "What about you, hon?"

Bright city lights invaded the car. Psylocke shrank further back into her seat as razor thin slits of illumination sliced across the green silk of her dress. Her body tensed. "Do you mind?"

He pushed the button a second time.

She let her muscles relax as her onyx reflection rolled back into view. Psylocke narrowed her eyes and casually contemplated her companion's question for a moment or two before responding. "Nothing excites me anymore."

He didn't need this.

The city took on an amber hue as if brandished in brandy at sunrise and set aside until nightfall. Warren focused on the thin sliver of sky that remained visible through the cracked window. His mind wandered past the city and sky to a land and a girl beyond the sea. Where was Marrow? Had she recovered? Storm had immediately whisked the young mutant from his arms upon his return. The X-Leader had sent him on a mission mere hours later. Warren regretted not being able to see Marrow's face when the child awoke. He had been the one to care for her when the others had offered her nothing but neglect. Now Storm coddled the child as if she were Kitty reborn. Warren let bitterness drain from his heart as he focused upon the clouds rolling across the sky above. Storm and Sarah needed each other. They were both searching for a constant presence in their lives--a permanent figure to love. Each had found that in the other. It was better this way. With Logan, Storm would never find any sort of permanence. Wolverine had brought the women in his life nothing but heartache.

And so had he. Warren winced at the realization. Charlotte had hardened underneath his touch; Candy had decayed. Had Psylocke always been so coarse and cruel, or had his love tainted her over time? He had been attracted to Ororo once--Jean as well. However, Elizabeth had been the one to win his heart--possibly saving both of her teammates from the bitter chill that consumed her spirit in doing so. At one time, Warren thought he'd been captured by the best of the three X-Women. Currently, he wasn't so sure. His mind wandered back through chambers of the mansion and chambers of time. Memories warmed his soul. Images of Storm and Jean hovering near the top of the Christmas tree drifted before his eyes. The twinkling lights that had twined around the women's limbs made them appear as angels. Meanwhile, his woman danced underneath within the shadows. Disgusted, Warren rolled up the window, shutting off all light within the chamber of the car.

Complete blackness hid the tears that trembled in the corners of Psylocke's eyes. She remained expressionless and seemingly emotionless beside her suitor--frozen as if a weeping icon of the Madonna. She was losing him. She could feel the other women in his mind. She could taste the salt-buttery flavor of Jean's fingers; she could smell the sweet pungent aroma of sandalwood that drifted from between Storm's breasts. Psylocke felt her tears roll between the valley of her lips in the darkness. She couldn't lose Warren--not because she loved him--for she wasn't sure if she was any longer capable of love. She couldn't lose her last link to some semblance of a life. If she lost Warren...she lost what was left of herself.

She brushed her fingers against his. "Warren."

Her husky voice stirred the basest regions within him. He fumbled with the buttons on her dress.

"No." She froze underneath his touch. "Not like this."

"The other way..." Warren's voice drifted off as he listened to fat tugboats call out into the distance as their hulls grazed across still waters. "We're in the city now. People might…"

Her fingers brushed against his once more. "It excites me."

It was a lie.

Nothing excited her anymore.

The limousine hissed as the sunroof slid open. Daggers of artificial light encircled Warren head as he gazed at the crisp white stars above. Smiling, he slid his arms around his shadow woman and ascended into the sky. The cool air spun tiny crystals of ice to cling to Warren's feathers. Psylocke's tongue shot out to savor the frozen stilettos. She smiled at the cool taste of the frozen daggers as they melted to their deaths deep inside the soft recesses of her mouth.

The city shrank in stature beneath them. Soon all that could be seen were the small snatches of light from the glittering skyline of Madripoor's Hightown. Warren laughed. To him, it appeared as if crystals of sugar were cast across a plane of dark chocolate.

The two danced in currents of air. Zephyrs softened their blows to bless the union.

Psylocke's fingers grazed against Warren's cheek. "Do you think we're high enough?"

"Positive, Bets. I doubt even helicopters could reach us."

"Good." Butterflies of light danced around Psylocke's hand. Wings fluttered against a wrist; antennae brushed softly against an impeccable French manicure.

Warren smiled shyly at the tangible forms of his love's telepathy. "Pretty."

"Yes." Psylocke's brow furrowed. The butterflies drew to her palm as moths to a flame. She closed her eyes. Wing folded over wing--butterflies transmuted until a sharp dagger of light ascended from the telepath's palm. She smiled triumphantly.

Warren's features could only afford a moment to display a picture of puzzlement against the canvas of his face. It was usurped by ecstasy as the telepathic dagger drove straight between his eyes--firing synapses like explosives in the pleasure center of his cerebrum. Rockets of pleasure shot throughout Warren's limbs, leaving exhaust trails of satisfaction in their wake. Throwing his arms wide, he cried out into Madripoor's midnight heavens, dared the skies to ruin his happiness...and noted that Psylocke's arms no longer encircled him.

She was gone.

"Elizabeth!" Azure eyes scanned the indigo waters below. "Elizabeth!"

His love faded from view like a wisp of smoke lost in a current of air.

She slid past midnight; she dove though the dusk like a falling star. The Zephyrs that had previously danced softly against Psylocke's milk-white limbs stripped away at her muscles like enraged harpies. They transformed the soft silk of her dress into a weapon to snap at the meat of her thighs like a starved stray. Psylocke let shrill laughter course throughout Madripoor's darkened skies as she twisted like an acrobat through the fog of low slung clouds. She cleared her mind of all thoughts--letting darkness seep into her veins like the cold sea waters that soaked the sands of Madripoor's coast. Her eyes sparkled with tears as blackness ate away at the fringes of her vision. The ebon ocean tides grew closer.

Come.

The Crimson Dawn called out to her; the quiet murmurs brushed against her ears like the tender rumblings of tropical thunder. She ignored the whispers, preferring to focus on the fear that smothered her thoughts as the possibility of her ensuing death rose around her like encroaching quicksand.

Come.

She could smell the salt water as her lithe body rocketed towards choppy ocean tides. She could feel the wind tear through her tresses. She could hear the low mournful wail of tugboats calling out to each other in the Madripoor night. She was dying--and she had never felt more alive.

Come!

Darkness surrounded her like mourning lace. Psylocke's pale limbs tore through the shadows like silver shears through rich cloth. The Crimson Dawn opened before her as she slipped from the earthly realm like the forgotten whispers of a satin gown.

stay

stay here

darkness

nothing

no one

lost

She hit the ground running--stumbling through the dim world of the Crimson Dawn like a newborn calf. What was left of her bruised and battered soul splintered across the plane like shattered glass. The once soft rumblings of the Dawn were now pounding chants that sounded like wrought iron church bells inside her ears.

stay

dark

darkness

shadow

shade

specter

A dim light gleamed in the farthest reaches of Psylocke's sight. She sprinted towards the beacon. Her soul hungered for its glow. Like the brass ring of a carousel, the gentle radiance danced just outside of her wanting grasp.

stay

Letting out a savage howl--tearing across the plane like a panther--she made a desperate leap for the swirling mass of light.

darkness

Her hands morphed to claws; she tore into the glowing figure. She shrieked with satisfaction as she heard flesh rip and crackle at her touch.

nothing

Glowing light poured from the wound she'd made. Psylocke lapped like a wild animal at the lesion, licking the liquid illumination from her trapped prey. The light consumed her as she consumed it. It flooded her senses...

allowing her to feel...

allowing her to live...

She awoke in the arms of an angel.

"Where the hell have you been? Are you okay?"

Psylocke fell against her love and let his wings hold up her weight as her body racked with sobs. She clutched onto the moonlit tufts, hoping to hide from the surrounding darkness as a drowning man would cling to driftwood to escape an ocean of water. It took Psylocke a few moments to actually realize that she was not acting--but feeling the cold fear seep throughout her limbs and coat her nerve endings in a layer of frost. She felt it. Tentatively, she glanced out across the darkened pier once more and savored the resulting terror, and the delicious warmth of Warren's arms as she shook within them. The Crimson Dawn frightened her. It made her feel. And all it wanted in return was to feel as well...to cease to be nothing.

All it wanted was a soul.

"No!"

Psylocke snapped from her thoughts as Warren tore himself from her embrace. He dove from the pier, leaving darkness in his wake. It closed in on her. Psylocke glared defiantly at her surroundings, waiting for a reaction to bubble within her.

She felt nothing.

The sound of scuffling and scraping signaled Warren's return. "Now, I see why you were so scared!" Warren dragged himself back up to the platform. "I bet this guy here gave you the shock of your life. Must've gotten drunk and drowned not too long ago. Still warm." He turned the corpse over. "Ugh! Looks like something's been feeding on him. He's almost completely hollowed out."

"What the bloody hell are you..." Her voice trailed off as she looked down at her crimson-coated hands and the blood that stained the back of Warren's illuminated wings. "Oh."

Warren peered down into the carcass, too enraptured by the remains of the casualty in front of him to notice the possible culprit hovering about the fringes of his vision. "Oh? That's it? Oh? Jesus, woman! What the hell does it take to rattle your bones?"

Psylocke slipped into the shadows. "Nothing excites me anymore."

*******

They had talked for hours--in several tongues. Their animated phrases wove into a comfortable tapestry of conversation, which put the couple at ease with well-worn tales and cherished memories.

Magnus smiled as Ororo shook with laughter beside him. He took her hand within his. "It is hard to believe your voice sounded so troubled when you first contacted me. You seem so pleased at this moment."

"I..." A guilty look crossed Storm's face instantly. She pulled her hand from his and touched her flushed cheek. Embarrassment danced in her lowered eyes. What would Xavier say? "I only wish this visit was merely about pleasantries, Magnus." An immediate chill coated her clipped words like frost, surprising both her and Magneto. Storm's trembling hand slipped between the folds of her cloak and returned to the bench with a thick manila envelope tightly clenched between its fingers. She held the package up towards Magneto's face. "Perhaps you should see this."

There were several photos inside the envelope, each more grizzled than the next. Magneto's ice blue eyes flitted across the celluloid corpses that splashed across the snapshots. "Why have you brought me here to see this?"

"The photos were faxed to me by Kitten this morning. There have been four deaths in all…four very peculiar deaths."

"How so?"

"The men were all extremely wealthy. An industrialist conference is being held in Madripoor over the next two weeks. All of the victims were participants." Storm paused to look up at Magnus.

He was stone-faced.

She lowered her eyes cautiously and continued to dispense information. It was all she could do. "As you can see, the way in which each victim died was highly unusual as well. The first victim was found frozen in his own bed. The second victim was slashed beyond recognition. The third victim…" She fingered the photo gingerly. "He was electrocuted."

"And the fourth?"

Storm's eyes locked upon Magnus once more. "Some…unexplainable force gathered the iron in his blood, forcing it out through his brain."

"And you think I…?"

"Each of the victims had major Genoshan investments. It is--"

"I have heard enough from you!" Magneto stormed from the bench, his white cashmere jacket whisking behind him as if a royal cloak. And as sudden as his movements were, he halted them just as spontaneously, stopping a mere few feet from where Storm stood--waiting. The air between their still figures crackled like a summer storm, and for a brief moment, it compelled Magneto to spin back to glance at her.

She turned away from him.

Magnus gritted his teeth and stalked back towards her. Why was he doing this? To be slighted yet again? "Do you think me capable of killing that man?"

Storm froze as Magneto's body pressed against the back of hers. His breath warmed the lobe of her ear. His hands locked around her arms. To any passersby, they would look like a handsome couple sharing the most tender of moments. They would know nothing about the bruises left as tangible memories of Magneto's touch the next morning. She sent volts of electricity to lick at his broad fingers. "I know very well what you are capable of." Her hisses shot back as a warning for him to release her.

He did not heed it. Magneto spun Storm around so that she was locked into his embrace. "Answer me."

She acquiesced to his words but not to his actions. Storm tried to pull from his grasp to no avail. Her frustration lashed out through the tone of her response. Her tongue sharpened the words he wanted to hear into a weapon against him. She hoped it would cut at what was left of his heart. "I assume that you are no more the murderer of that man than the X-Men are of the other three!"

He waited patiently through her screams. "Then there is more that you are not telling me."

"Shaw is in Madripoor. The Inner Circle--" Storm's voice broke off in astonishment as Magneto's energy signature crackled around her frame. The two rose into the sky.

"Do you trust me, Ororo Munroe?"

She said nothing. Her petulant look captured more meaning than volumes of literature could hope to conceive…but she did not fight him.

And he did not let her go.

********

Logan had listened to her sleep for almost an hour. It was one hour too long. He jabbed a thumb into her side. "You feel like talking now?"

His companion rolled over reluctantly, letting the sheets twist between her curves and valleys. A flick of her wrist snapped the switch of the lamp to let artificial light stream into each dark corner of the room. "Hmmm? Yeah, I guess so." A smile spread like thick molasses on her face. "You were wonderful, Logan."

"Whatever." He jumped up from the bed, pulling on his jeans in one rough motion. He had yet to look at her. "Viper. Madripoor. Talk."

"Fine. You don't have to be so mean about it." She pulled a cigar from his back pocket as he walked past. Her brow furrowed as she sliced off a rounded end with a sharp nail. Her expression hardened. "There's an important conference going on in Madripoor over the next two weeks. Bigwigs from all over have been pouring into Hightown." She glanced at Logan out of the corners of her eyes. "A couple of them have been killed in the past few days--real strange ways too."

"Strange?"

"Y'know, like being frozen or electrocuted...stuff like that." She shrugged and flicked her wrist in the air. Nonchalance and flakes of tobacco rained from her fingertips.

Her actions irritated Logan. He could spot Jubilee in the movements. "No, I don't know." Feeling her nakedness unnerve him, he threw a shirt at her. "And put some clothes on." His anxiousness subsided as her breasts slid from view. "They're pinning Viper for the murders?"

She pulled the shirt tightly around her frame. "Feels like someone just walked over my grave. You ever feel like--"

"No. Tell me about Viper."

"Right. No, that's just it. The police think the murders were done by a mutant since there's no way those deaths could've been pulled off by a human without somebody catching wind of it. Also, all of the victims had major Genoshan ties. Very old ties." She arched an eyebrow. "As in mutant slave labor."

"Keep talking."

"The police in Madripoor have gotten a whole lot of money from members of the conference to solve the murders. The force has never been this powerful--and they're making the most of it. They've shut down all of Madripoor's major families. Drug trafficking, prostitution...it's almost non-existent."

"Which means that Viper and little whores like you lose out on a whole heap o' bucks, right?" Logan let out a weary sigh as he picked up his knapsack from a nearby chair. "I've had a lot more problems out o' Viper than I have out o' the police. No need stirring up trouble when the waters are calm." He moved for the door.

Her lips curled into a sneer. "I don't care how many friends you had on the force, gene freak. It doesn't mean a damn thing against your dirty blood. They're out for mutants and--surprise--you're a mutant."

"But I'm not in Madripoor." He snickered as he reached for the door's handle. "An' ta think I let ya kiss me with that mouth."

"Funny. Know what else is funny, Logan? Maybe the fact your precious little X-Men are in Hightown right now. And it'll be even funnier when they end up in a police containment center with their throats slit."

Claws popped from their housings.

She didn't blink. "Are you coming with me to Madripoor, Logan?"

He didn't respond.

"You don't have a choice."

Logan quivered slightly, rage shaking him like windblown leaves. "Or what? You gonna kill me, little girl?"

She sauntered towards him. Triumph danced in her eyes. "I already have--each time you kissed my lips, or caressed my skin. My entire body secretes a toxin especially geared for your immune system, Logan. Only Viper has the antidote." She leaned in close, breathing in deeply as her tongue slid across his neck. She could smell the sickeningly sweet scent of black orchids waft from his frame. She savored the perfumed evidence of her victory. "I can still smell me on you, Logan. All that poison." Her fingers trailed along his muscled back.

Logan welcomed the embrace--grinning venomously at the woman who had taken his life as swiftly as a serpent's kiss, for a new pungent odor had risen from the nearby fields to greet him. Not orchids--but the smell of warm blood and the heat of Harlem nights filled the air. Logan trailed his fingers lovingly though his murderer's locks--or what would seem loving to eyes that watched a brightly-lit bedroom window between long blades of grass. He dropped soft words at her ear. "Can ya smell me on you?"

She could feel his whispers dance against the soft skin of her lobe. She hissed back at him through the false warmth that lie between them. "I suppose."

"Good." Logan's smile faded. He slid quietly from her grasp, each languid step bringing him closer to the hateful shores of Madripoor. "I'm poison too."

"What are you talking about?" She looked at him quizzically as he wandered from her reach.

Logan glanced back at her for one last time before he left the room. He could hear rustling in the fields.

"Tell Creed I said hello."

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