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CRY FOR MERCY CH12

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  • Linda J
    DISCLAIMERS AND SUCH ARE IN CH1 Chapter 12 6:30 am. William Stryker held the receiver to his ear. Are you sure the `package was delivered. He demanded in
    Message 1 of 1 , Sep 28, 2002
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      DISCLAIMERS AND SUCH ARE IN CH1

      Chapter 12

      6:30 am. William Stryker held the receiver to his ear. "Are you sure
      the `package' was delivered." He demanded in code to the assassin.
      "Yeah; well…sort of." The assassin choked nervously.
      "Sort of?" Stryker repeated; the hired henchman hadn't made the self-
      righteous lunatic angry yet, but he as certainly on the right track.
      "Well, even with a silencer on the nozzle I can still tell when I've
      fired a shot. I'm positive it struck the target, but that damned ol'
      son-of-a-bitch didn't go down! I'd say he didn't even budge!" The man
      recalled as he explained to his leader. "I ain't never seen nothin'
      like that before, it's like it didn't even faze him."
      Stryker listened carefully to his henchman's words, but did not care
      to express his suspicions to him.
      `Interesting.' Stryker thought to himself. `Could this be why he
      changed on us?' he wondered.
      "Thank you. That will be all then." Stryker hung up on the man with
      out another word.
      Just then Ms. Perry his secretary came into his office as Stryker sat
      down at his desk to begin a new week of cleansing the world of
      genetic out-casts.
      With out asking her, Ms. Perry poured her savior a fresh cup of
      coffee, poured in just the right amount of sugar, and stirred it up
      for him before handing it to him.
      "Thank you Ms. Perry." He smiled as he took his coffee out of her
      steady hand.
      "Your welcome sir. Will there be any thing else?" Ms. Perry responded
      in her typically professional, polite, dignified and `normal' style.
      "Yes, I need you to round up a top notch surveillance team. I want to
      find out what the hell is going on with Kelly. Also, Ms. Perry, open
      the cabinet doors to the TV and find my remote. I want to see what
      this…'Professor X' has to say and be sure to hold all calls and I'll
      see no one until this *ahem* interview is over."
      "Yes, sir; I'll have the team ready by this afternoon." On her way
      out, Ms. Perry reached over and opened the door on the solid oak
      cabinet and handed Stryker his remote as he made himself comfortable
      behind his desk.
      She closed the door to his office, and went to her office. Quietly
      she opened her desk drawer checking to see her pistol was still there.

      `Mmmm…A good night's rest; that's what I needed.' Mystique sighed and
      peacefully smiled to herself as she lay in the bed, in a dream like
      state. Only to be startled awake with a jolt as her mind was flooded
      with memories from the previous evening's events.
      Still being alive wasn't such a big surprise to her, she'd been
      through worse. The surprise came from not having some G-man jerk-off
      in her face, or at the very least, not waking up in a jail cell.
      But what was especially surprising to Mystique was having her newest
      injuries cleaned, dressed and properly bandaged; that she had been so
      thoughtfully tucked in bed; and the fact that the alarm on the clock
      had been turned off, just so she could sleep in on a Monday morning
      was the biggest shock of all!
      There was still a God awful burning sensation where the bullet had
      entered and exited from her chest, but at least it would seem she had
      a guardian angel looking out for her, and she was sure she knew that
      angel's name.
      `Shit.' She murmured to herself. `Sherry knows.'
      Mystique was consumed with both fear and shame. A kind of self-hate
      took over her mind as she imagined what Sherry must have thought when
      she saw her for what she really was.
      It made her resent Sherry for discovering her dirty little secret. No
      longer did she long for the woman's soft touch or lust for the sweet
      savor of her juices. All of that was gone now as a kind of cold,
      uncaring, callousness waxed over Mystique's heart. `Guess it just
      wasn't meant to be.' She sadly sighed and thought to herself.
      Mystique looked over and saw the strawberry blonde was in fact in the
      room with her, sleeping in an over-sized lounging chair she had
      pulled up next to the bed.
      She had brought in her pillow and a blanket and had apparently had
      kept a watchful eye over Mystique during the night.
      But why, Mystique wondered.
      She tried to get up without alerting Sherry, only to find her head
      was spinning out of control, and her stomach wanted to turn its self
      inside out.
      Mystique figured she had enough strength to get up and flee, or shape-
      shift; but not enough to do both. Apparently the bullet had hit an
      artery causing her to loose a serious amount of blood.
      Her clever mind shifted into over-drive as she tried to devise a plan.
      `I can fix this, I know I can; I can fix anything!' She reassured her
      self repeatedly.
      She tried to recall anything she might have heard about Sherry Brown
      that she could use to her advantage. All she could recall about the
      woman however, was just how dull the resume had been. Sherry came
      right out of Pleasantville USA, from the way she described herself.
      But she was an out spoken supporter for mutant rights. That much made
      her interesting any way. Maybe she could be trusted.
      Unfortunately, Mystique was not the trusting kind and this was not
      the sort of circumstances she wanted to try something new.
      Still…it was pretty much the only option Mystique had to work
      with. 'Well if worse comes to worse, I can always kill her.' Mystique
      assured herself.

      Even though Scott and Jean had intended to go to the dining hall for
      breakfast, somehow they ended up back in their bedroom instead.
      Sub-consciously Scott and Jean both knew that their relationship
      needed a little pick-me-up now that Logan had come along.

      It started out with the two standing together next to the bathroom
      sink when Jean gave Scott an innocent but flirtatious pat on the
      rear.
      Scott returned the jest by putting a dab of shaving cream on the tip
      of her nose.
      Next came a splash of water from the sink; then another. Soon both
      were in need of a change of dry clothes.
      Still aware that they had to make this a `quickie', they helped each
      other undress. Scott took in the lovely sight of Jean's naked body
      right before she removed his ruby band glasses.
      He shut his eyes tight, as they both gracefully lay down on top of
      the covers, kissing and caressing each other's perfect bodies.
      Soon Jean took control, and climbed on top of Scott, taking his
      manhood deep inside her as she rested herself on top of his groin.
      At first she began to move slowing, making sure she was taking him in
      completely with every stroke. Within moments she began to squeeze and
      contract her vaginal muscles in that oh-so teasing way that made
      Scott yearn for more.
      They began moving together in opposite directions, making the
      penetration that more intense.
      Had they more time, this would have been only the beginning of a very
      remarkable love-making session, but as it was, this would just have
      to do.
      Not that either homo-superior was complaining.
      Within minutes, Scott exploded in her like a cannon at revelry and
      Jean accepted it all in with joyous glee.
      Their relationship was almost back to normal.
      But even still, Scott hopped that Logan's face hadn't been on Jean's
      mind.

      Sabretooth hadn't slept a wink. Instead, he had spent the whole night
      thinking.
      He thought about his past; he thought about his regrets; and about
      his mistakes.
      He thought about those who had wronged him and those he held
      responsible for his hate.
      He thought about his present; about his new roost; about the new
      people in his life.
      He thought about his strengths; and about his weaknesses.
      He thought about his future; did he even have one to count on? Where
      would it be? Here? Or back there? Or was there something out there
      yet to come?
      In his heart he knew none of that really mattered. Survival was the
      name of the game.
      That's all that ever mattered.
      But every time he settled his mind, Charles' haunting words echoed in
      like a great and distant bell.
      *Maybe this is all meant to be,* and *are you happy*
      `Pah! What nonsense!' The cat-man observed to himself. `All my life,
      I ain't never seen nobody happy. Happiness is just a wisp of smoke
      that no one can hold onto.' He would try to comfort himself with
      other cold and cynical words, as he tossed in his bed on side then to
      the other, only to start complaining to himself about the size of his
      too small bed.

      `Meant to be. Who the hell does Charles think he's foolin'?'
      Sabretooth growled to no one but himself just before he gave up
      trying to find a comfortable spot on the bed.
      He got up and started doing sit-ups as his mind raced out of control.
      `He's just tryin' to brainwash me, that's what this is;
      brainwashing.' He tried to convince himself.
      `Mags said Charles was bad about brainwashing.'
      He had long lost count of his repetitions, but figured he was
      probably up to two or three hundred by now.
      `He wants me to stop thinking about escaping and start thinking about
      this dumb, stupid, idiotic bullshit. But I'm on to him; he ain't
      gonna get nothing over on me.' He kept pride fully reminding himself.
      But no matter how much he believed these questions weren't worth
      finding answers to, the more they bugged him.
      `I just need to wait until Mags realizes how much he needs me around;
      then I can blow this pop sickle joint.' That was the only comforting
      thought Sabretooth found that night.
      Needless to say Sabretooth was not in the best of moods when Scott
      came to get him that morning.
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