Irene Adler had had guests in her home before, and invited or not, they were always expected; a side-effect of her vast precognitive abilities. Unfortunately, at eight PM yesterday, morning a massive ‘twist’ in the present had changed the future in an as-yet undetermined fashion, and the shock of the upheaval had rendered Irene unconscious for almost twenty-four hours.
Even after waking up her powers were still a little on the fritz.
*DING-DONG!*
…and now, completely unforeseen, someone was at the door. Rubbing her temples in a futile attempt to alleviate her migraine, Irene made her way through the house to the front door with practiced ease. Opening the door, she cursed her (hopefully) temporary lack of powers for her inability to ‘see’ the people on her front porch. “Hello?”
A man’s deep, cultured voice answered her. “Greetings. Do we have the pleasure of being in Miss Irene Adler’s presence?”
Irene had never actually met the man who owned that voice, but she knew him well enough, and was completely justified when she broke out into a cold sweat. “…Sebastian Shaw…”
“It seems your reputation has preceded you once again, Sebastian.”
Irene frowned slightly. “And Emma Frost.”
You could hear the smirk in Emma’s voice. “Forgive us, but did we come at a bad time?”
Sighing, the precog could tell that they weren’t going to be leaving any time soon, and stepped aside, gesturing into the house. “Why don’t we take this inside?” She really hoped that Frost was wearing something more conservative than her ‘White Queen’ uniform would be; she’d moved to this neighborhood to keep a low profile, after all.
“I believe that would be best, Miss Adler.” The 6’2” Pittsburgh-born mutant strode past Irene, followed closely by the blonde telepath.
Ignoring the softly shuffling feet of what was most likely a number of armed guards, Irene closed her front door and followed the diabolical duo into her home.
‘I could really use Raven’s help right about now. It’s a pity she’s dealing with the X-Men in Bayville.’ Shaking off those pointless thoughts, Irene placed the teapot onto the tray and carried it into the lounge room where the two Hellfire Club members were waiting. Setting the tray down on the table, Irene began preparing her guest’s tea as they preferred it. “So, what brings such distinguished individuals such as yourselves to my little neighborhood?”
Emma Frost answered the question with another question while idly studying the room. “Don’t you already know?”
‘No, but it doesn’t take an idiot to guess.’ “You want my and/or Mystique’s assistance in ascending to leadership over the Hellfire Club.”
The future Black King nodded with a satisfied smile. “Very good. And your answer?”
Irene handed him his tea, with enough room left in the cup for the alcohol he would inevitably pour into it. “I’m afraid I must decline, for both of our sakes.”
Sebastian arched an eyebrow while pulling a small flask from the inner pocket of his clearly expensive jacket. “Oh?”
The precog paused, facing away from the two younger mutants while she considered her response. In the end, she decided that telling the truth was probably the best of her limited options. “During my teens, when my powers first surfaced, I spent a year in a state where I was barely capable of keeping myself alive, while my newly-surfaced powers raged out of control. In that time I was plagued with many, many visions of the future, and some of them were truly horrific. When twelve months had passed I was left completely blind, and with a thirteen volume, barely legible and entirely incomprehensible diary of my visions from that period.” Irene took a sip from her tea before continuing. “A couple of years later I enlisted the aid of Mystique, who was working as a consulting detective at the time, and together we worked to decipher my writings and stop the worst of my visions from coming to pass.”
Emma spoke up before her associate could. “Have your efforts proved successful?”
“To a degree. With the combined powers of myself and Mystique, personal success and profit is child’s play, but trying to stop a vague vision of a future cataclysm from proving true…” Here, Irene let loose a frustrated sigh. “…well, that is proving to be much more difficult.”
Sebastian leaned forward in his chair to add weight to his words. “With the aid of the Hellfire Club-”
Irene cut him off. “We would all die, and we’d take a huge chunk of the United States with us. I have considered seeking out the Hellfire Club’s assistance before, and the visions never end well for any concerned. The closest we could ever come to success while working with the Hellfire Club is if we give Emma a little nudge to achieve her own personal goals for power.”
The male mutant eyed Emma curiously, while Emma could only smirk.
“Of course, after she wiped out any mutant opposition to her power, built her company into a juggernaut unmatched by any other, and was elected as the USA’s first female President, she promptly put a pistol to her head and blew her own brains out.”
The blonde telepath’s skin paled beyond even its normal creamy shade. “What!?”
Acting as if she hadn’t heard Emma’s outburst, Irene continued. “With the President dead and her megacorporation up for grabs, the numerous squabbling factions ended up kick-starting World War Three. Not that this mattered to me, Mystique or the rest of the Hellfire Club, because we’d all been killed by Sentinels at that point.”
Silence filled the room at that point, and Sebastian took the opportunity to top up his tea with a little more alcohol, and he sipped the concoction contemplatively.
All three mutants jumped when the front door slammed open and a male voice cut through the air. “Honey, I’m home!”
Irene visibly relaxed while Sebastian leapt to his feet. “Emma?”
Emma frowned, her previous distress forgotten as she focused. “The guards are unconscious, and they didn’t see anything. I can’t sense anyone else in the house with us.”
Striding assertively down the hallway to the living room, Ranma grinned cheerfully, revealing longer than usual pearly-white canine teeth. Of course, he wasn’t actually cheerful, but in Mystique’s experience, wearing a great big smile tends to scare the hell out of the people you were beating up. ‘I can’t even visit Irene without running into trouble. At least this isn’t my fault this time.’ He paused briefly, a frown on his dark blue face. ‘Is it my fault?’ He couldn’t see how this mess could possibly be pinned on him, but he had to admit that there was a possibility that, in some bizarre roundabout way, he was to blame. Shrugging, he continued down the hall and stepped into the lounge, finding an unusual pair of individuals in the room with his partner.
The man was large, and built along the lines of a weightlifter or wrestler. His muscular body was clothed in a mostly-black 18th century outfit, with a red vest beneath his jacket and an identically colored bow tying back his long black hair. He was also repeatedly punching one fist into the open palm of his other hand.
Ranma blinked golden eyes. “Are you getting larger?”
“Yes, actually.” The two men stared at each other for a long moment, weighing each other up, before the larger of the two stepped forward, holding out his hand. “I am Sebastian Shaw, of the Hellfire Club.”
It took a second for Ranma to recognize the gesture, but when he did, he stepped forward and took the offered hand, shaking it. “Mystique. Pleased to meet you.”
The taller man released Ranma’s hand, and waved his own towards Emma, who was seated on the couch and eyeing the shapeshifter cautiously. “This is Emma Frost, a valued colleague of mine.”
Ranma studied the gorgeous blonde. She was dressed in an extremely expensive and high-quality business suit that just screamed ‘upper class’. Remembering Mystique’s manners, Ranma stepped closer, plucking Emma’s hand from her lap and bowed, brushing his lips across her knuckles. “A pleasure.”
Frost smiled haughtily and approvingly. “Indeed. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I was informed that you usually preferred a female form.”
Smirking, Ranma sat himself down next to Irene and wrapped and arm around her waist. “Different situations call for different genders. I’m flexible like that.”
“I see.”
Sebastian straightened out his jacket. “We came here to ask Miss Adler a question and extend to her an offer, and she has answered both.” He bowed slightly to Irene. “Thank you for your hospitality and patience, but I’m afraid Emma and I must be off.”
Ranma chuckled apologetically. “Uh, your guards are going to be out of it for at least another hour.”
Smirking, the older-looking man pulled a cell-phone out of his jacket pocket and pushed a button for speed dial. “I’ll have it taken care of. Farewell.” With that, he turned and left the room.
Emma stood from her chair. “I also thank you. You’ve…given me a lot to think about.”
Before she could turn and leave, Irene caught her attention. “Emma, on the table near the front door is a pile of business cards with my phone number on them. If you need to talk to someone...well, I’m a good listener, and sometimes a good listener can be worth their weight in diamonds.”
The young telepath was clearly surprised by the offer, not to mention the odd diamond comment. “…thank you again, and I’ll keep your offer in mind.”
Once the two Hellfire Club members had left Irene exhaled deeply, loosing a lot of tension as she relaxed against Ranma. “God, that was frightening! I didn’t think they were going to harm me, but without my powers I couldn’t tell for certain. Anyway, I certainly feel better with you here, Raven.” Irene frowned beneath her dark glasses as ‘Mystique’ tensed up. “Raven?”
“…Irene, something really, really strange happened when I woke up yesterday…”
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(Posted Wed, 22 Mar 2006 18:48)
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