Post by Pyro on Oct 9, 2006 13:41:13 GMT -5
"You know what I really miss sometimes?"
Pyro's voice cut through the companionable silence that had fallen between the two of them whilst they dealt with the twin issues of Sombra and what was left of their dinner.
"I miss the Danger Room." It was a moderately random statement, but he elaborated a little. "I miss the opportunity to train against an opponent, y'know? I mean, those damned barrels outside are alright for practising certain techniques, but they've got less reaction than Bobby Drake - and believe you me, that's saying something."
Mystique nodded, separating key documents into their own folder. "They really do have a tremendous facility. That's a lot of the reason I've always said younger mutants have a place there. Why not take advantage of the free training." She smirked.
"But you know, I'm sure there's something we could figure out. Aurora and I have talked about training and I'm sure some of the new recruits need some talking to. What we deal with is often different than anything they've experienced."
She looked at him. "Ideally, what kind of practice do you think you'd need?"
He rubbed at his nose thoughtfully. "One-on-one. Dealing with someone's reactions, y'know? I mean, Bobs, if ever I came up against him again, I reckon I could adapt a damn site faster than ever before. He's a sneaky sonofabitch, but I need to fight against people to get the measure of them, learn to react properly."
Pyro reached for a bottle of Coke which he opened and took a long sip of. "I think we need to set up one-on-one training. We've got Angie here to deal with anything major in terms of injuries, after all..."
Mystique set their papers aside. "I would train with you. If you'd like. I'm likely one of the few here who could dodge your attacks." She didn't look at him.
She leaned over and as if in terrible irony, her red hair shifted down from her back. He could see the rivulets of scarring along her back- rather pretty, but for the memories attached to them- running from the spin between her shoulderblades up towards her right shoulder, licking along the flesh there to the back of her neck.
The scars sent a rush of guilt through him that he set aside irritably. What had happened had happened. He'd been another man then. It was important that he remembered that. Still. He reached over and stroked his finger down the line of the scar.
I don't know that I could, was his instinctive reaction and again, he set that aside with a little more irritation. "That would be...interesting," he said, thoughtfully. "Especially since you and I have never trained together, apart from back in those very early days - remember?"
Mystique closed her eyes, sitting back even as his fingers touched her. She was quiet for a moment. When she opened her eyes, she looked at him, and said nothing for the longest time.
"I remember them," she continued, softer sounding than before.
"If you would be happy to be opposite me...after..." He scowled up at the ceiling. How damn hard was it, anyway?
"I think it's an excellent idea," he said. "I think of all the people here, I would gain most from training with you."
"Our abilities are what they are." That was all she was apparently going to say on it.
"Kiss me." She looked at him, a bit of the old mentor in her voice, and it made her smirk even to hear it.
That was definitely not the answer he was expecting from her and it threw him off balance momentarily. He stared at her for a moment, trying to remember how it was that they had ever ended up as bed partners in the first place. Somewhere, in the temporarily boarded-up depths of his memories was the moment he had feared he'd crossed the line of their relationship.
The line had been crossed several months previously and yet now, he still felt that moment of insecure uncertainty. But this time, he didn't let it deter him. Instead, he leaned across and caught her face in his hands, kissing her with all the fire and passion she remembered.
Slipping her arms around his neck, she wondered at the look that was on his face. Breaking the kiss, she smiled.
"Does this work.. for you?" She said. "You don't seem comfortable." she wasn't really used to men looking so confused every time they kissed.
Does this work for you?
A spark of that same irritation he had felt earlier when dealing with his own doubts flared somewhere inside him and he fixed her with an easy stare. "Yes," he said, and his tone was level. "It's more than fine, in fact."
Two years, for the best part, had passed since the day John Allerdyce had boarded the helicopter at Alkali Lake. Two years of his life where he had had his eyes constantly opened to the harsh realities of what fighting for the mutant dream was about. And in that time, he had dealt with any number of conflicts within himself.
And he had had enough.
Something in the way Mystique asked him the question, maybe, gave him a push, a boost up the ladder of his own confidence. Perhaps it was in the tone of the question; perhaps it was more than that: perhaps it was the sudden and burning desire he had to prove to not only her - but himself - that yes it was fine, that he was comfortable, but Pyro suddenly gathered up all the anxieties and insecurities that had been buzzing around his head like fireflies – especially since the added confusion of Angie’s confession of love, something he still didn’t know how to deal with it.
So for now, at least, he’d do what he knew and deal with the unknown later.
"Damn right I'm fine with it," he continued and he kissed her again, only this time there was no doubt, no hesitation. And she could taste it. She could feel it. It was tangible.
It was...quintessentially...Pyro. It was that flare, that spark, that flame that Magneto had seen in the troubled teenager. It had been rekindled.
Breathless after the second kiss, she remembered what had drawn them together in the first place. THERE was the man she'd met when she'd returned to Genosha as Raven Darkholme. There he was again.
Her eyes glimmered, and she grinned dangerously.
"Okay. Let's go fight."
Pyro's voice cut through the companionable silence that had fallen between the two of them whilst they dealt with the twin issues of Sombra and what was left of their dinner.
"I miss the Danger Room." It was a moderately random statement, but he elaborated a little. "I miss the opportunity to train against an opponent, y'know? I mean, those damned barrels outside are alright for practising certain techniques, but they've got less reaction than Bobby Drake - and believe you me, that's saying something."
Mystique nodded, separating key documents into their own folder. "They really do have a tremendous facility. That's a lot of the reason I've always said younger mutants have a place there. Why not take advantage of the free training." She smirked.
"But you know, I'm sure there's something we could figure out. Aurora and I have talked about training and I'm sure some of the new recruits need some talking to. What we deal with is often different than anything they've experienced."
She looked at him. "Ideally, what kind of practice do you think you'd need?"
He rubbed at his nose thoughtfully. "One-on-one. Dealing with someone's reactions, y'know? I mean, Bobs, if ever I came up against him again, I reckon I could adapt a damn site faster than ever before. He's a sneaky sonofabitch, but I need to fight against people to get the measure of them, learn to react properly."
Pyro reached for a bottle of Coke which he opened and took a long sip of. "I think we need to set up one-on-one training. We've got Angie here to deal with anything major in terms of injuries, after all..."
Mystique set their papers aside. "I would train with you. If you'd like. I'm likely one of the few here who could dodge your attacks." She didn't look at him.
She leaned over and as if in terrible irony, her red hair shifted down from her back. He could see the rivulets of scarring along her back- rather pretty, but for the memories attached to them- running from the spin between her shoulderblades up towards her right shoulder, licking along the flesh there to the back of her neck.
The scars sent a rush of guilt through him that he set aside irritably. What had happened had happened. He'd been another man then. It was important that he remembered that. Still. He reached over and stroked his finger down the line of the scar.
I don't know that I could, was his instinctive reaction and again, he set that aside with a little more irritation. "That would be...interesting," he said, thoughtfully. "Especially since you and I have never trained together, apart from back in those very early days - remember?"
Mystique closed her eyes, sitting back even as his fingers touched her. She was quiet for a moment. When she opened her eyes, she looked at him, and said nothing for the longest time.
"I remember them," she continued, softer sounding than before.
"If you would be happy to be opposite me...after..." He scowled up at the ceiling. How damn hard was it, anyway?
"I think it's an excellent idea," he said. "I think of all the people here, I would gain most from training with you."
"Our abilities are what they are." That was all she was apparently going to say on it.
"Kiss me." She looked at him, a bit of the old mentor in her voice, and it made her smirk even to hear it.
That was definitely not the answer he was expecting from her and it threw him off balance momentarily. He stared at her for a moment, trying to remember how it was that they had ever ended up as bed partners in the first place. Somewhere, in the temporarily boarded-up depths of his memories was the moment he had feared he'd crossed the line of their relationship.
The line had been crossed several months previously and yet now, he still felt that moment of insecure uncertainty. But this time, he didn't let it deter him. Instead, he leaned across and caught her face in his hands, kissing her with all the fire and passion she remembered.
Slipping her arms around his neck, she wondered at the look that was on his face. Breaking the kiss, she smiled.
"Does this work.. for you?" She said. "You don't seem comfortable." she wasn't really used to men looking so confused every time they kissed.
Does this work for you?
A spark of that same irritation he had felt earlier when dealing with his own doubts flared somewhere inside him and he fixed her with an easy stare. "Yes," he said, and his tone was level. "It's more than fine, in fact."
Two years, for the best part, had passed since the day John Allerdyce had boarded the helicopter at Alkali Lake. Two years of his life where he had had his eyes constantly opened to the harsh realities of what fighting for the mutant dream was about. And in that time, he had dealt with any number of conflicts within himself.
And he had had enough.
Something in the way Mystique asked him the question, maybe, gave him a push, a boost up the ladder of his own confidence. Perhaps it was in the tone of the question; perhaps it was more than that: perhaps it was the sudden and burning desire he had to prove to not only her - but himself - that yes it was fine, that he was comfortable, but Pyro suddenly gathered up all the anxieties and insecurities that had been buzzing around his head like fireflies – especially since the added confusion of Angie’s confession of love, something he still didn’t know how to deal with it.
So for now, at least, he’d do what he knew and deal with the unknown later.
"Damn right I'm fine with it," he continued and he kissed her again, only this time there was no doubt, no hesitation. And she could taste it. She could feel it. It was tangible.
It was...quintessentially...Pyro. It was that flare, that spark, that flame that Magneto had seen in the troubled teenager. It had been rekindled.
Breathless after the second kiss, she remembered what had drawn them together in the first place. THERE was the man she'd met when she'd returned to Genosha as Raven Darkholme. There he was again.
Her eyes glimmered, and she grinned dangerously.
"Okay. Let's go fight."
