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Pam and Alex talk about the ramifications of going back to the Brotherhood while Alex fends off attacks from their new pet.



Still dressed in the t-shirt and bikini bottoms she'd worn to the desert, and carrying her sand-covered blanket, Pam opened a portal into Alex's room and went over and plopped down on the bed, though she did at least think to drop the blanket on the floor first. "Billy's in," she said without preamble. "Well, no. He needs to check with Goody? But I think he'll come."

Alex had been trying to concentrate on his Algebra homework when Pam 'ported into his room. At that point, he gave up on the lost cause to join her on the bed, wearing only soft pajama pants as he lounged around the room. "I guess we'll see, then?" he said, settling beside her with one arm behind his head. "It'd be great to have them on board, but I don't have a great read on where Goodnight's gonna jump at any given time."

"Me either." Pam made a face and snuggled in close against Alex. "But unless he starts worrying about Billy going off half cocked, I think he'll be okay with it. So long as he doesn't have to fight, anyway."

"I think we've got that part covered, with what we're working with now," Alex said thoughtfully, tracing her spine idly with the tips of his fingers. "Magneto, Wanda, Eileen--all of them are pretty much a weapon of mass destruction on their own. And Lance and the others can take care of of the surgical stuff well enough. I like our odds."

There was a strange, high-pitched warble off to the side, a prelude to a winged, feline form lighting on the headboard and causing it to rock slightly with her somewhat awkward landing. Natural balance combined with flared, leathery wings allowed her to keep her perch, and she reached down to bat at the teens' heads with a soft paw.

"Hey, knock that off, furball," Pam ordered, though the way she reached up to pet the flying furball in question made her instructions highly suspect. "If you want to get petted, come down here. And yeah, we'll totally kick ass, no problem there, though you're leaving yourself out of the list," she added, turning her attention back to Alex. "I just figured Billy'd want in I mean, it should be fun, and no one's gonna kick up a fuss if we kill a few dozen of those," she wrinkled her nose, "whatever Pyro said the soldier guys were called."

"Magistrates," Alex supplied. And no, he doubted anyone was going to go into deep mourning or any of those bastards--at least, not the ones serving Genosha's leadership without the need for extensive behavioral modification and outright torture. "And he'd be great for thinning out the assholes, no question. But if Goody and Billy signing up with us is contingent on Billy staying out of this fight, I--" Whatever else he had been about to say was lost when the winged cat they'd ... rescued? kidnapped? inherited from Sinister's lab suddenly decided to take Pam's advice. Rather than simply jumping down to the mattress, she beat her wings twice in preparation, launched herself into the air, and hovered a moment. She then dropped bodily onto Alex's naked stomach, drawing a whoosh of expelled air from the unsuspecting teen.

Pam started laughing. "Guess she wants petting?" she managed to choke out.

"Or just to murder me," Alex wheezed with more than a touch of reproach. Still, he moved the arm from behind his head to scratch the cat ... monster ... thing affectionately between the ears. At least he wasn't deathly allergic to this vindictive ball of fur. Which seemed weird, but he wasn't inclined to question it too far.

"Yeah well, you seem to get that reaction from cats. Remember when Pita was a kitten?" Pam wrapped her leg over Alex's and reached over to scratch the cat between it's wings.

"I think cats just naturally love murder," he mused. "And especially the murder of things that love them. She was really cute, though." Resuming his idle stroking of Pam's back, he added, "Do you think we should introduce them? Would the wings freak her out?"

"Don't know. We can try it?" She hummed softly, arching her back into Alex's hand, but her eyes shadowed. "Billy told me something today. The Professor told him that he kinda got programmed at the first place he was at so he could deal with all the stress, but...he doesn't figure the programming's gonna hold forever. And he's not sure Billy's still...well, gonna be Billy when it cracks." She wrapped an arm over both the cat and Alex. "That's why he wants to come. He doesn't want to sit around the school and just wait for it to happen."

"Shit. I wouldn't want that, either." A lead weight of worry congealed somewhere in the pit of his stomach--what the Right and the Pale Man had put them through was bad enough. Knowing somebody else--somebody with apparently much less ability--had gotten their hooks into Billy, too, and whatever they'd done to him was probably going to unravel ... It made Alex feel more than a little sick inside. "And there's nothing the Professor can do?" he asked, grudgingly. "I mean, as much as I think he should be with us, I don't want it to be at the cost of his health.

"Not a fucking thing." Pam grimaced. "From what he said, it's just a wait and see thing." She shook her head. "It's seriously more fucked up than anything the Right ever did. To us, anyway."

Alex's expression was a mirror to Pam's. Because, seriously--that was just beyond fucked up. And their stomach for that kind of thing was probably stronger than most people's. "Just goes to show there's always somebody worse out there, I guess. So, what do we do?"

"Not a whole lot we can do. I mean, what's gonna happen is gonna happen, I guess." Pam stroked her hand over Alex's shoulder and down his arm. "He pointed out something else though, too. If we go to Genosha with The Boss, are they gonna let us come back here?"

"I don't think that will be a realistic option for any of us," Alex admitted, after a long, thoughtful pause. "I mean ... overthrowing a whole country, that's a big deal. Way more serious than breaking up a hate-rally, or a secret lab doing all kinds of unsanctioned, illegal shit. We'll be international criminals, at that point. I doubt the Professor or the rest of the staff would wanna risk bringing down that kind of heat on themselves."

"Scott's going to be seriously pissed off at you," Pam pointed out. "You know that, right?" And it wasn't even if they could suggest he just come along, considering he was still fucked up from his last mission. She had limited sympathy for that, though, considering he hadn't taken them along.

"Yeah," Alex agreed, a bit dully. Because how could he even argue that point? Scott would be pissed off, for a whole laundry list of reasons--some of them absolutely valid. Most of them, if Alex were being honest with himself. But what could he do? Pam would never sit something like this out, especially not after being sidelined when his brother's team had gone after Sinister. And he'd been telling her for the longest time they should go back. He just hadn't expected the circumstances to be so ... dramatic. That was the thing about life with the Brotherhood, though: there was rarely a dull moment.

"I still think we need to do this," he added, voice firming. "We can deal with the fallout afterwards."

Pam eyed him seriously, then nodded. She'd figured Alex wouldn't change his mind; after all, the Brotherhood were as much their family as Scott was. If the Boss needed them - and he said he did - it wasn't likely Alex wouldn't be willing to go. "Fair enough." She grinned. "Gonna tell Scott before or after?"

"After," Alex said, not really able to return Fatale's grin. This was something that was going to seriously test the relationship between the Summers brothers, and he was not in the least looking forward to it. "Definitely after."

"Chicken shit," she observed, but she snuggled closer and hugged him.

"About some things," he agreed, cuddling Pam close, as if proximity would somehow help make this hopeless situation better. Sure, he and Pam were going back where they belonged ... but the cost. Alex had a feeling he'd be paying it for a long time. "Definitely about some things."

"Hey, he'll forgive you," Pam assured him, rubbing his back slowly. "I mean, that's the not sucky thing about family, right? Look at Pietro and Wanda. Besides, you want to visit, it's not like he's more than a portal away."

"Maybe," said Alex slowly. "This feels like it'll be more serious than any other argument we've had. I think he'll take this pretty hard--you know how he can get." He punctuated the remark with a gloomy sigh.

Pam snorted. "Yeah, he's not gonna write you off over it. He'll maybe be pissed for a while, but that's about it."

"Maybe," he replied, sounding anything but convinced. But there wasn't much point in arguing about it; nothing would change, either way, and Scott would have to come to terms with what they were about to do, just like Alex would. He just hoped it didn't damage their relationship permanently.

"It's gonna be okay," Pam assured him again, and pressed a kiss to his forehead before tugging him closer. Because...it was, right? Against all odds, the Boss was back, and so was Lance, and they were going to do what the Brotherhood was all about, take o the assholes who were making things hell for mutants. Scott would have to understand that. Eventually.

"Sure," Alex agreed, nuzzling Pam's neck out of a combination of genuine affection and the desire for her not to see his face in that moment. The doubts there. He had been the one pushing for them to go back to the Brotherhood, ever since Yorkland. He still believed it was the right decision, and not just for her. But it also gave him a sense of impending doom, knowing he would have to talk to Scott about it, sooner or later. "Either way, you know you're stuck with me."

"Yeah, well, I'm used to it." And more okay with it than she used to be, Pam reflected. She wasn't sure whether it had anything to do with their time in Yorkland or if dying just gave her a new perspective, but...it was pretty okay being tangled up with Alex. Not that she was prepared to admit that. Instead, she arched her neck to give him better access and smirked. "Besides, if you took off, flying cat would have to figure out who she wanted to stay with. Or we'd have to work out shared custody or some shit."

The cat in question, as though recognizing the conversation's shift in her direction, leaned down again to bat at the top of Alex's head, who paused in the act of lightly teasing the skin of Pam's throat with his teeth to huff an exasperated laugh. "Shared custody, my ass. The little shit's all yours, if it ever comes to that. I don't even care if she's hypoallergenic."

"Please. She likes you better. You don't see her following me around, do you?" Which kinda sucked sometimes, but whatever. Alex was laughing, which was a fuckload better than Alex sulking about his brother. Win. She stroked her fingers through his hair, encouraging him to continue what he'd been doing, and stroked her other hand slowly up and down his back. Unfortunately, her fingers drew the cat's attention, and after crouching forward in stalk-mode and wiggling her butt a few times, she pounced on Alex's back.

Alex yelped at what felt like ninety-seven needle-sharp knives suddenly dug into his back. In fact, it was only around sixteen--but that was still more than most cats carried in their forepaws. Another modification, courtesy of the Pale Man. He also convulsively arched into Pam, not quite forcefully enough to drive her over the edge of the mattress, but more than sufficient to give her a clear idea what was going on under his teenage boy pajamas.

Pam gasped as Alex's hips thrust against hers, making it obvious just where his mind had been going before he'd been attacked by the resident cock blocker. "I think someone needs to go out," she observed breathlessly. "Stretch her wings, take a look around the grounds."

"And if she just happens to get sucked into the engine of a 747, well, it's probably her own fault," Alex grated. Nevertheless, he was extremely gentle as he scooped up the strange winged cat, who immediately began gnawing on his hands even as her tail wrapped unnaturally around one wrist. He carried her, tucked against his chest, to the window, which he opened, and set her carefully on the protruding masonry outside. Once he was sure she had her balance, Alex turned her face toward his, and waggled a finger for emphasis. "Remember that this is where the food us, you vicious little goon," he told her. "I am not going to be spending the next week of my life wandering around this giant fucking estate with a butterfly net if your dumb ass gets lost."

The cat, for her part, yawned in Alex's face, exposing an unsettling but entirely natural number of pointed feline teeth. She then spun around, tail lashing, and with a few preparatory flaps of her leathery wings, lifted off, heading in the general direction of the woods.

He closed the window ... mostly. There was enough space left over that the little weirdo could get back in, if she needed to. Then he turned back to Pam, hopping into the bed beside her. "Where were we?"

Reluctantly, Pam sat up. "Looking at your back to make sure freaky bat-cat didn't claw the shit out of it. Just in case Dr. Essex decided poison would be an improvement." Granted, she was pretty sure Dr. McCoy would've caught that when he gave the cat a once over, but it didn't hurt anything to double check.

Alex huffed a sigh, but obediently seated himself on the edge of the bed, and presented his bare back for inspection. "It feels fine," he insisted. "Well, maybe not fine, but not itchy and miserable like it usually does. That's a good sign, right?" And, indeed, though there were over a dozen distinct pinpricks of red marking the blond's back, there was none of the inflammation or swelling that typified Pita's attacks on the hapless Summers.

"I'd think so." Pam stroked her fingers lightly over the dots of red, occasionally smearing the tiny drops of blood before wiping them away. She smirked. "We'll know if you suddenly drop dead an hour from now. It'll be either that or exhaustion."

"Exhaustion from what?" Alex smirked over his shoulder. "You poking at my back? Or did you have something else in mind?"

"Mmm, pretty sure you had something else in mind," Pam retorted, smirking back and letting her hands stroke down to his hips. "Unless being pounced on by Flying Cat made you forget?"

He half-turned, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Hey, I tried to get right back into it. You decided I needed an emergency examination. But, if that's over ... " He leaned into her, pushing her back down onto the mattress, and resettled his hips beside hers.

Pam laughed and settled back, tugging him back on top of her. "Over. Definitely over. Fuck, Summers. I'm thinking I should wear bikinis more often. And you haven't even seen the top." Which yeah, was a definite invitation for him to get rid of the t-shirt. And the bikini top, once he was done gawking.

At least he wasn't stressing over Scott any more. She'd always said she had it in her to be seriously distracting.

Though he hadn't completely forgotten about his brother by any means, worrying was very difficult, when Pam was being sexy as she was. He took the invitation for what it was, tugging her shirt up over her head and trying not to go slack-jawed at the view offered by its absence. "You should definitely wear bikinis more often," he offered lamely, leaning in suddenly to kiss her throat, his hand tracing the soft, blue skin of her arms to pin her wrists up on either side of her head.

Pam moaned softly and arched her neck, then smirked. "Does that mean you like it so much you're gonna leave it on me?" she teased, rocking her hips up against his.

"Not a fucking chance," he told her, his hips pressing down into hers, moving with her in a familiar, teasing rhythm. "Just let me admire the view, for a second," he murmured against her skin, mouth teasing down her throat to her collarbone and the blue swells of her breasts, barely contained by the scanty fabric of her bikini top.

"Like you've never seen me before," Pam retorted, rolling her eyes, but her cheeks darkened, making a lie of her words. Alex checking her out never sucked. Alex checking her out while doing that...she rocked her hips up to meet his, turning his tactic back on him.

"And every time I do, it's like the first time," he muttered. Alex's hands moved from her wrists to the elastic of her bikini bottoms, tugging them down insistently. His mouth moved from her breast back up to her throat, his breathing heavy now, and his cheeks flushed. All the while pressing his now undeniably-stiff erection between her legs as their hips bucked against each other.

Pam's face warmed more even as she lifted her hips to give Alex better access, and started tugging his pajama bottoms down as well. "Yeah. I get that," she whispered breathlessly. Because yeah. Sometimes she did. And this was definitely one of those times.

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