D'Ancanto

Chapter 3

 

 

For all of Captain Harper's PR posturing, he had a pretty good idea of how to run MacTac. Roughly following pre-existing precincts, he assigned patrols according to known mutant populations. Marie and Charlotte shared the Lower East Side and East Village sector with two other units. Mutants amassed thick in the area, especially Alphabet City which was quickly gaining the moniker Mutantown among the locals. They wove through morning traffic, already sluggish, on slim police issue motorcycles until they reached Charlotte's favourite pastry and coffee store inside old Little Germany.

"I hate these damn bikes," Charlotte groused as soon as they parked. "I don't know why I keep letting you talk me into using them every damn day."

"Because if we used the car, we'd still be stuck in the hellhole that is construction," said Marie. "Is it just me, or have they been fixing that road for a decade now? Morning, Nani."

The owner waved. "'Morning, Detectives. Can I get your usuals started?"

"Please and thank you. Keep the change, hear? Those boys of yours are looking like they could start cutting their teeth on some amandines."

Nani pushed the extra cash back. "You spoil them."

"She spoils mine, too," said Charlotte. "I think she's wanting some of her own."

"I have a cousin, just arrived from Romania last year and already works in a bank. I tell him all the time, there's a pretty policewoman coming in my cafe every morning and he should go here for breakfast to meet you."

Marie pasted a smile on her face. "Maybe in a few years when I've got a cushy desk job."

"Hihihihihi!" Nani's twin boys barrelled out from behind the counter, tails whipping, ears front and centre. Eli leapt into Marie's arms and she scritched his furry head while his brother, Joshua, wrapped himself around Charlotte's left leg.

"You gots candy?" Joshua asked.

"Joshua! That's rude," Nani started to say but Marie had already pulled two caramels from a pocket-- one for each twin.

"So, how's it been?" asked Charlotte.

"Besides the fire that ate the city? There was some looting, of course, but my Jorge took a few days off to stay with us. Nothing like a big man with a shotgun to make thieves think twice. The boys stayed home with my mother."

"The neighbourhood doesn't look too damaged."

Nani looked away, slightly guilty. "There are lots of mutants here, officers, many with helpful powers."

"Good to hear," said Marie. "I'm glad people were using their gifts responsibly. You let them know to keep up the good work, okay?"

"Of course." She then leaned forward to whisper. "Have you got a few minutes after the morning rush? I have some news on what we talked about last time."

"Sure we do," Charlotte said. "Whatcha think, Marie? Ride through and back at ten?"

"Done and done. By the way, Nani, you've outdone yourself with this gogosi." Marie unwrapped Eli's legs from around her waist. "Okay, sugar. You be good for your momma."

Charlotte preferred, and Marie agreed with, random, circuitous routes during patrol, especially for the first fly-through. When the people in your beat included mind-readers, pre-cogs and hypersensitives, the lack of a routine went a way to surprise them. A short way. Not everyone welcomed the police as warmly as Nani and her family. Some even thought of mutant officers as traitors, selling out their people in exchange for personal safety. The closer to the docks, the dirtier the looks. Granted some other folks at the 9th Precinct reported receiving the same stares but Marie felt them too keenly today. Damn that visit to Xavier's; it made her touchy. They rode through the docks first thing, their presence a warning to dealers, pimps and gangs closing up shop for the night. The view lightened uptown with fewer boarded up windows and cleaner storefronts. A sullen group of teenagers on the way to school flipped them the bird, more because they were teenagers than any mutant power manifestations.

A little less than ninety minutes later, they'd looped back to the middle of the sector to Nani's cafe. Customers dotted the patio, taking advantage of the lingering heat to people watch. Nani herself was outside, wiping down tables.

"I'll be right with you, ladies."

"Take your time," said Marie as she peeked inside. The pastry displays remained full. One banana and an apple were missing from the fruit bowl. At least the coffee dispensers neared empty.

Nani re-entered, brushing her bangs off her forehead. "This weather! Humid and cloudy, humid and sunny; I feel like I'm working in a sauna all day."

"You need a bigger fan," said Charlotte.

"I know, I know but..." she shrugged. She gestured for them to come closer as she pretended to re-arrange the condiments on a side table. "The man I told you about last time was here again yesterday. Definitely setting up meetings of some sort. He must have circled the block four times before leaving and he shook hands with a lot of people."

"Can you give us a description?"

"He wore a Yankees baseball cap and a big jacket for this weather. That's why I thought he was strange. Average height, maybe a little black or Latino or East Indian in him. Pretty nice clothes for a sidewalk dealer. Do you think it's ziff?"

Marie guarded her tone. "Whatever it is, you folks don't need it in this neighbourhood."

"So true. We have enough to worry about." Nani put her hands on her hips. "Something to snack on while you're on patrol, ladies?"

Charlotte started to shake her head but Marie pulled out her wallet. "Another coffee would be great and maybe a bag of those gogosis for the road."

"Right away!"

After stashing her goodies, Marie followed Charlotte to Tompkins Square Park. They parked the bikes under the shade of some elms, content with watching the thinner late morning crowds. Some mutants, especially those who could pass, found legal work outside Alphabet City. But the neighbourhood cropped up because no one could find half-decent work. Despite gentrification attempts in the late 1990's, the triple effects of 9/11, Black Tuesday and the Cure Riots battered down even the most deep-pocketed developers in a short span of time. The dispossessed had re-entrenched in the East Side.

"Did you see the size of those hedges on East Houston?" Marie asked.

"Yeah, prettiest damn barricades I've seen in my life."

"You think that's part of the pitch when the sell those refurbished flophouses to the nouveau yuppies? 'This quaint Victorian whorehouse overlooks the mutant ghetto for the discerning young hipster professional who wants to stay real but not too real.'"

Charlotte snorted. "I gotta tell Timmy that one."

"How's he doing?"

"Got into AP History. A little sketchy on the algebra."

"You mean the tenth grade algebra he's taking now that he's in the ninth grade?"

"Yup."

Marie rolled her eyes. "Remind him to give a few of those honours plaques for the intellectually needy."

"Naw, bitches can eat his dust." More shyly, Charlotte added, "He tried out for the wheelchair basketball team."

"How did he like it?"

"Moaned and groaned and found someone else just as crazy about videogames instead. I told him he could have his new pal over if he gave basketball a try for a month. Boy is getting chunky."

A pale blue sedan with Maryland plates drove by which wouldn't be too big a deal if it moved over twenty miles an hour and its windows weren't blacked out. Marie casually put her snacks away. Catching Charlotte's eye, she pointed at the car under the guise of wiping her mouth. Charlotte tilted her chin down, acknowledging the signal.

"Hell, Jones, he's fourteen! He's still got baby fat."

"We're the only two people in my family who don't have diabetes and it's going to stay that way. Lord love his brain but he's gotta take up a sport."

The car disappeared around a corner but Marie managed to catch the license plate number. She entered it on her handheld for a search. The car came up clean. She shrugged at Charlotte. "Feel like stretching your legs?"

"Yeah. Let's go park these at the station and do the rest of the patrol on foot."

The 9th Precinct station was two blocks down the same street their suspicious sedan. As she passed by, Marie took quick stock of the building and its surroundings. Laundromat and a closed pizza joint. Apartments above. Scraggly flower boxes and bars on the windows. A trio of people crouched outside the laundromat, one of them with a baseball cap.

"What do you think?" she asked Charlotte.

"If I had to arrest every guy with a Yankees cap--"

"-- and an illegally tinted window. Still."

"Yeah."

They turned the bikes around. The trio at the storefront didn't move but their eyes sharpened at the officers' approach. Yankees Cap did have darker skin but it seemed to be due to a patchwork of burn scars in various stages of healing. His buddy to the right had four beefy arms, both pairs crossed while the one on his left looked like a cross between a pterodactyl and a human. They flickered their gazes at the Mutant Crimes Task Force badges. Marie kept her hands at her belt, close enough to her weapons without being overtly threatening.

"Any of you three the owner of this vehicle?" asked Marie.

They shook their heads.

"Looks like a window tint violation. Good thing the window's cracked open so I can check." She took the tint meter from Charlotte's hands.

"Don't you gotta have a warrant for that?" asked Four-Arms.

"Do we need a warrant?" Charlotte threw back.

Dino-Man said, "We're jussst hanging out, lady. Or isss being a mutant offissshally illegal now?"

"Ain't got any business with you if this ain't your car. And it's definitely in violation of automotive tinting by-laws." Marie stepped back to her bike to pull out her ticketing machine when Dino-Man spread his wings and cawed. Charlotte quickly back-stepped as well, casing the scenario. MacTac trained specifically for interactions like this, learning to gauge mutant actions as threatening or merely a physical necessity. In the two seconds of processing, his buddy Four-Arms lunged for Marie's neck.

Not a physical necessity then.

She whipped out her CS spray and baton, aiming the gas at Dino-Man's face then swung around with the baton. Wielded like a straight-forward bludgeon, T-batons transferred less kinetic energy but Marie doubted she needed much. Dino-Man's beak looked like a tender place for a hit. Sure enough as soon as the stick made contact, he screamed and stumbled away. Of course, the tear gas probably helped. Marie stepped back to reassess. Charlotte had Four-Arms doubled-over for a breath, ranting his Miranda Rights like a curse while she snapped cuffs around his wrists. Bystanders had gathered, tensions increasing.

"Police brutality!" someone shouted out.

Marie held her hands up. "Yeah? You taped the part where they lunged us first?"

"D'Ancanto! Attention on the perps. Is yours cuffed?" Charlotte asked.

"Getting to it." MacTac carried both hinged and flexicuffs. Dino-Man's bony hands didn't really have a wrist-type joint and his fingers could easily slip through even plasticuffs. Marie was willing to bet they were fragile though; too much twisting might break them and discourage him from twisting free. She tightened the cuffs, keeping an eye out for the growing crowd. The amount of people gathered wasn't large enough to qualify as a true mob but two minimally armed officers on foot would have plenty of trouble controlling them.

"Since it caused so much trouble, let's impound the car as well," said Charlotte. She touched her radio on and got dispatch to transfer them to the nearest precinct. "Hey, this is Jones from MacTac. My partner and I have two fellas under arrest for assaulting police officers in retaliation to a traffic violation and suspicion in a current case. Was wondering if you could come over and help us tow it?"

"You like kicking your own people when they're down?" Dino-Man demanded.

"You attacked first," said Marie. "If there'd been more people around, you might've hurt them."

"Ha!"

"Yeah, plenty funny generating more violence. We were just going to hand out a ticket."

"Tickets we can't pay. And if we don't pay, we go in the clink. It's just a conspiracy to round up all us mutants."

The crowd murmured its assent. Dino-Man was just getting going.

"I bet that crap you sprayed in my eyes was Legacy."

"Now that's just stupid," Marie cried out but some of the bystanders had already heard. The crowd surged back, some crying out in fear.

"The government made Novomane to take away our powers but that wasn't enough! Now they're trying to kill us with a disease!"

"D'Ancanto, shut him up before this turns into a mob!" Charlotte ordered.

"Pig!" A bottle accompanied the epithet, splintering inches from their bikes. The crowd, three deep now, inched close.

Marie stowed her baton, slowly to ease tensions, then raised both hands up. "All y'all, take it easy. I understand this was all pretty scary but we don't want anyone else hurt, y'hear?"

"You called in more cops," said Four Arms.

"Yeah and they aren't interested in anyone but you two," Marie said. "And your car. Everyone else, just go about your business and everything'll be all right."

Half the crowd trailed away. The remainder still looked angry but they didn't come closer. It was the best she could do for now. "Did you see where the third guy went?"

Charlotte wagged her head. "Slipped clean away."

"Shoot."

If that man had been their suspect, he'd be ten times as wary now and Nani would've risked her safety for nothing. Marie hoped the car turned something up.


The forensic garage called four days later, a new record in follow-up speed for their department.

"I guess brass stands up and takes notice when half of Manhattan burns down," said Charlotte.

"Want me to go down to the garage?"

"And leave me with paperwork? No way, rookie. The only reason I'd let you do that is if you lead the case." Charlotte held out the file.

Marie blinked. Twice. "You're shitting me."

"You can't be detective third-class forever and someone else in this place needs to pick up the slack." She raised her voice at the last half of the sentence. Several jeers volleyed back to their desk. "Come on, take it."

Beaming, Marie did. The drive to the forensic garage wasn't as tedious. If she did good on her first major case, it would act as a commendation for a promotion. She loved her ratty old apartment and her colourful neighbourhood but it would be nice to have to money to work on her bike again. And maybe even take a vacation outside the country.

The TV in the lobby murmured the news. The young reporter shared the screen with a man in the tail end of middle age. The ticker at the bottom of the screen announced "Senator Simon Trask: Citizen Protect Program."

"Senator, isn't it true that the proposed Citizen Protect Program violates civil rights?" asked the reporter.

"On the contrary, it was created to protect our civil rights and liberties," Trask responded. "We all want to live in a country without fear--"

"But you are creating fear. Fear of unjust persecution and being driven out by their own neighbours---"

"Let me finish, please, Jessica. I was saying, we all want to live in a country without fear of terrorists having access to high population or sensitive areas."

"Senator, there are people who accuse the Program of focussing heavily on the mutant population."

"Quite frankly, they're wrong. The Program looks for anyone suspected to have the means to inflict a great deal of injury to other people as well as public and private property. Yes, a good portion of those on the list are mutants but you can't deny that through no fault of their own, some mutants are a threat to--"

"What an unpleasant little mole." A mountain of a man-- he'd give Pete a run for his money!-- changed the channel then turned to shake her hand vigorously. Grime streaked her palm. She smiled. Reminded her of shop class with Scott Summers. "Detective D'Ancanto? John Irons, department head."

"Pleased to meet you. Call me Marie. Thanks for responding so quickly."

"Anything earmarked for a ziff case gets kicked up the list. That's straight from the commissioner. We've only just started pulling her apart."

"That's all right, I'd like to help. I'm a certified tech for the garage and an unrepentant gearhead."

"Good to know. What you've brought in is stock, ridiculously unsexy."

"But we all know the quiet ones give up more."

"Exactly." They made their way through the warehouse, passing through several stalls before reaching their car. To the right, a tech rolled up the wall-vac tube. He nodded to them and said, "I was going to look under the upholstery."

"Then we'll take over. If you don't mind getting your hands dirty, Marie," said Irons.

"Not at all," Marie answered.

With Irons' help, she removed the car seats from the vehicle and set them on a low platform. She unclipped the upholstery from the backseat while he took care of the driver and passenger side. Marie patted down the foam stuffing, lightly at first, then with more pressure towards the middle. Something felt off.

"I think I might've found something," she told Irons. He crouched beside her. Together, they peeled down the foam stuffing to reveal two rows of bubble wrap, folded to the length of the seats. After taking measurements and some pictures, they pried the bubble wrap from the seat frame and laid it out on an empty table nearby. Four layers of bubble wrap later, they uncovered thumb-sized vials of clear, yellow-tinged fluid.

"What the hell is this?" Irons murmured. He picked one up and held it up against the light.

Marie picked up another vial. Immediately, the skin touching the vial went cool. Her hands tingled. "Whatever it is, I'm willing to bet it's not legal. Let's bag and tag and I'll bring it back to MacTac."

"We have a lab across the street; I can get it rushed."

"Much appreciated."

MacTac used standard police labs all the time but Marie had another resource in mind. She punched in Mayor Worthington's number up in Boston.


"Jones! D'Ancanto!" They both looked up. "Captain wants to see you in his office."

Marie downed her coffee. She shouldn't have expected Irons' lab to call with the specs of those vials so soon. They'd only taken the car apart yesterday. Labs had a forty-eight hour turn-over at best. Still… "I'm waiting for a call."

"That's why we have answering machines, D'Ancanto." Charlotte smacked her arm. "C'mon on. Up and at 'em."

"Ugh."

Because the captain's office was on the second floor, Marie couldn't have missed his guests. Dr. MacTaggert and Bobby had walked in an hour ago, faces set. Bobby had peeked at her through the maze of desk pods. He must've practiced that blank look for days.

"Did you just have dinner with these folks?" asked Charlotte. "Which, by the way, I'm still pissed about. You could've brought me as your plus one."

"Yeah, and you'd've witnessed mine and Storm's complete inability to stand each other," said Marie. "Warren spent a good portion of the night smoothing feathers. Pun intended and waiting for a rimshot."

"Considering how much I like to knock you around, I bet I would've had a lot of fun."

Captain Harper's assistant buzzed into the intercom as soon as she saw them approach. "Go right in. They're expecting you."

Charlotte knocked once before opening the door. Captain Harper looked up from some files to nod at their entry; his guests followed his gaze. "You wanted to see us, Captain?"

The captain waved them to at pair of fold-out chairs. "It's a little crowded in here. Have a seat, you two. I know you're familiar with the Xavier's people. Jones, this is Dr. MacTaggert and Bobby." Without waiting for an answer, he ploughed on. "Now that they're here, Doctor, maybe you can explain some of these findings."

Dr. MacTaggert cleared her throat and smiled tightly. "We're here about John Allerdyce's attack on Manhattan three weeks ago. We've completed the autopsy and there are some irregularities."

"Yeah, we figured he was hopped up on ziff," said Marie. "It's explains the out of control powers and the apparent dementia."

"There is one other factor which can explain his erratic behaviour." Moira pulled a sheet of out blood test results. "Alcatraz Legacy Disease."

"Shit," said Charlotte. "Allerdyce had Legacy?"

"Borderline advanced according to these tests."

"That explains..." Marie didn't complete her sentence, lost in the memory of that day. I'm dead already.

The captain prodded her onward. "Explains?"

"Johnny isn't into suicide terrorism," said Bobby. "No way he would've followed a plan that ended with him dead. Hell, he doesn't even like getting winged. He's had no reticence about strategic retreat."

"That's why I thought drugs," Marie said. "There've been a couple reports on mutants completely tripping out on ziff leading to their powers hurting them."

"He could still be a user. Legacy rates are higher than the national average among ziff users," said Captain Harper.

"We're here to offer testing for every mutant officer and administrative staff under your command, Captain," said MacTaggert. "If they were exposed during the fire, the chances are quite slim that they contracted the virus but I believe it's better to be safe than sorry. The test comes with a request to participate in Legacy research, should they test positive. It will all be confidential, of course."

"I think that's a good idea. Jones? D'Ancanto?" The captain gave them a cursory acknowledgement then kept right on talking. "I'll get my assistant to write up a letter ASAP. What did you want these two here for?"

"You said they were the two closest officers at the scene. I'd like their descriptions of the events leading up to John's death."

"It's all in the report," Charlotte said, noting Marie's stiffness.

"A police report is very different from what I'm looking for," said MacTaggert. "I need details, as fine as you can manage, to compare against other known cases."

"Jones was way back getting the civilians out of the line of fire," said Marie. "She barely saw him."

"Nevertheless, her input will be invaluable. As well, Marie, you knew John quite well when you were children. You'd have a lot of insight into the personality changes caused by the illness."

"Doc, a lot of things change in ten years. Why not ask Bobby?"

Bobby twitched. "She did."

Marie shrugged. "Fine, we'll debrief after I finish writing up my reports."

"That's a piss poor excuse and you know it," said Captain Harper.

Throwing her hands up in the air, Marie said, "Let's get it out of the way, then."

"There's one more thing."

Of course there was. Marie waited.

"Mr. Drake here would like to officially identify the body. He--"

But the captain's words melted into loud buzzing to Marie, the minute Bobby actually managed to look her in the eye. Dammit. Did he have to look exactly like he did in high school? Weren't high school boyfriends supposed to go bald and fat? But no, he hadn't changed except for a little more broadness at the shoulder and a little more darkness in his hair. He even dressed the same.

"-- down, okay?" Charlotte jabbed her arm. "Hey, you! I said, I'd debrief with the doc then meet you downstairs."

"Oh. Yeah. Sure, Jones." She looked to Bobby. "You coming?"

There had to be scenarios more awkward than walking down to a morgue with a former friend you accidentally on purpose lost touch with but Marie didn't have the imagination to come up with one. Bobby didn't make things any easier by joking around.

"So, bet you're getting a lot of mileage out of those cuffs," he said, winking.

Marie stared.

"I meant, y'know, arresting people and with dates."

She stared some more.

"Y'know, like with the kinky."

"Bobby."

"Yeah, okay, harassment suit." He stuck his hands in his jeans pocket. "I gotta know, though, is it true about the doughnuts?"

"Bobby, stop yourself," she nearly pleaded as they neared the basement double-doors.

"But I was just getting to my new material."

Despite herself, Marie smiled. "You're still completely impossible, you know that?"

"Yeah. It's part of my charm."

"Ha!"

"Hey, how else do you think I managed not to slip into the leadership noose?" He opened the doors to the morgue entrance and stepped aside to allow her through first. "Jubilee's co-captain after Logan and thank God for it."

Marie waved at Ismael Ortega, on toe-tag duty tonight. He tipped his cover at her and kept on surfing the net. "Losing at poker again?" Marie teased.

"That's illegal," Ismael said, deadpan. "I'm catching up on my shows."

"This is Bobby. We're here to ID a body."

He gestured grandly at the doors. "You gonna need some time?"

Marie started to shake her head but Bobby placed a hand on her shoulder and said, "If we can, please."

"Didn't think you were the sentimental type," she said as the doors clicked behind them.

"I'm about to stare at Johnny's body," he said. "There's no knock-knock joke on Earth for that."

She showed him the cubbies for the disposable eye-shield masks, the protective robes and the nitrile gloves. They helped with detachment as well as protection against body fluids. She learned that in police academy. The body lay behind Door C5. They stopped. Marie tugged on the stainless steel bar. Ball bearings rumbled and creaked, a puff of cold air smacking their faces as they stared down at the covered body. Suddenly, she couldn't detach the way she had in the field. Suddenly, she couldn't help but think that it was Johnny in there. Johnny with his stupid Zippo and the eat-shit grin and that stupid wallet chain that made such a racket whenever he sat down in class.

"Jesus." Bobby gulped audibly. "How did he-- His powers usually protects him from the flames but with the-- is he--?"

Marie shook her head. "He burned too hot and the... the virus must've affected his shield. He's pretty bad, Bobby."

He nodded. "I thought he might be. I'm the closest he has to family, y'know?"

"I know." She held the body bag's zipper but had to stop again. "Most of the time, we don't let family see when it's this bad. We just give them clothes and confirm the dental records."

"Rogue."

Okay. She opened the bag just enough to show the remains of Johnny's face. His burn patterns defied known science. Most of his hair was just singed but the left side of his jawbone was ash. He still had a completely intact right ear. A blackened cheekbone and cheek muscles maintained his scream; the other side was a mass of blisters, peeling skin and scorched flesh. He didn't have eyes.

Marie quickly looked away, mouth closed against the bile roiling up her throat. That was unprofessional. Never let the family see how upset you are; it gets them even more upset. But, God, the school had been Johnny's family. No matter that he was with the Brotherhood longer, no matter that she'd only been at the school for a year, that was her family on that slab. He'd been sick and she'd shot him, oh holy Christ, she shot him with an adamantium bullet through the chest.

On the other side of the slab, Bobby choked down his own sobs. He sounded awful, like someone drowning. But Marie couldn't make herself go to him because if she did, she'd start crying. If she started, she'd never stop. And if she went there, let herself get lulled back into the fantasy world that was Xavier's, she'd lose everything she fought to create for herself. So Marie stood back and watched Bobby fall to pieces and hated herself all over again.


Grocery shopping ranked second on the list of Marie's favourite chores. She needed a pick-me-up after the emotional train-wreck that was work. She rubbed her palms on the hard, waxy skin of some watermelons then moved to veiny cantaloupes. The freshly washed butter lettuce shed icy water droplets, its leaves crunching with a twist of her fingers. Papery onions and lumpy potatoes went in her basket; she wiped the dirt off on her skirt. Her fishmonger loved her, too. She prodded at the halibut steaks he offered and slicked the tips of her fingers across the side of the trout. In the end, she decided on two scoops of mussels to go with her greens then fought through the mash of other customers at the doors with her prize. She petted her neighbour's labradoodle, exchanging promises to meet for coffee and rock-climbing the following weekend. The neighbour was a cute enough guy, apparently the regional manager of a chain of sports stores. He kissed like a dream.

Cooking ranked fifth, right after eating. Taste and smell equalled touch for sensuality in her opinion. Marie took a sip of her beer, bent over her pan and decided it needed a touch of basil.

"I'd put in lemon and parsley."

Marie jumped, screamed and threw the contents of the pan at the intruder who side-stepped away. The same trenchcoat-wearing intruder from last week. He'd made her lose her dinner and didn't even have the consideration to get burned.

"What the hell!" Her gun. Where was-- dammit, it was in her safe box.

"Are we going to go through the whole drama of calling 911 again?" he asked, almost bored.

"If you wanna stay put, I can go straight to cuffing you."

He grinned.

"Don't even try; I've heard them all," she said before he could retort.

"Yeah, but I deliver it with style, sha."

If she couldn't find her gun, she'd settle for her phone. She'd tucked it into her purse which sat slumped on the dining chair. "If I listen to your stupid spiel, will you go away?"

Trenchcoat tilted his head a bit to the right. "Depends. You gonna agree to the assignment?"

"I highly doubt it."

"I can change your mind."

Marie pulled one of the chairs back and sat down. She gestured for him to take one as well. At the same time, she slipped her hand into her purse and pulled out her phone. Thank goodness for voice-recording apps. "Please, do you worst."

He flipped his trenchcoat back with a dramatic flair before lowering himself onto the chair across from her. "I know I won't impress you with the little things like your name, place of birth, driver's license number. Anyone can look that up. Had no idea you were buds with a mayor though; maybe you're a little bit more?"

Marie covered a yawn.

"Hein, I didn't think so. He ain't attached and neither are you. That don't make for good enough material."

"So you're trying to blackmail me into your foolheaded scheme."

"I never said that. It's such an ugly word, blackmail. I'm trying to find leverage. That's what makes the world go 'round. You're a cop, you got power by law to take away certain freedoms. That's your bargaining chip."

Marie didn't bother covering her second yawn.

"Mine is this." He held up an open, gloved hand to show her it was empty. Marie braced herself for a physical assault but he only snapped his fingers. Three fluid-filled vials appeared between them.

"What's that?"

"You don't recognize your own Novomane supply, Detective D'Ancanto?"

Her heartbeat ramped up. "My what now?"

"Oh right, you're pretending that you're one of the permanently nullified from the first batch. Don't see why. You don't seem to much care for the Xavier Institute bunch and Worthington's all about the mutant's right to choose. Mutant Crimes Task Force must be all right with nullified powers 'cause they hired you. So I don't get why all the secrecy."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Sure you don't. Which is why I'm going to make away with the last of your vials. If my surveillance is right-- and it always is-- you can't get any more until next year." He whistled. "Guess detective third-class don't come with a great benefits package. You do know there's a cap to the amount a doctor can prescribe, right? Or is there a special reason you're burning through your meds?"

"Who are you and why've you targeted me?"

"But of course! How very rude of me. My card, sha." He quickly shook the hand holding the vials; they disappeared, leaving a playing card. He placed it on the table. A jack of spades.

Marie cocked an eyebrow up at him. "Right. Now I know you're a Christopher Nolan fan."

"I am Gambit." He bowed, shallow but at the waist and with a theatrical arm flourish. "You'll call."

"Sure I will. To arrest you. Extortion has a minimum penalty of two years jail time. Conspiracy to commit murder is ten to twenty. Don't think your arthritic bones can take getting in bitch position every night for that long."

Gambit's grin never fell off his face. In a flash of movement, he whipped the heavy back cloth of his trenchcoat out. Marie reacted instinctively, ducking under the table then pushed it up and out. Except he no longer stood there. The table crashed on the tile floor. A mass of black moved towards the window. Marie snatched her half-empty beer bottle and threw it at Gambit's head. It clipped him, she saw it bounce off him-- did it hit his head or his shoulder?--but he didn't stop. She picked up the nearest chair and threw that, too. This time, he let out a muffled grunt. He didn't so much reach the window as slumped against it.

Remote control. Book. Book. Big book. Ratchet wrench poking out of the toolbox. Marie grabbed the ratchet and the closest hardcover. Gambit yanked her window open. She hurled one of the books. It connected between his shoulders.

"Damn it!" His eyes blazed. Literally. A ring of magenta light crackled from his irises to the corner of his eyes. He kicked out and Marie barely blocked his foot with her forearm.

She rolled away, clutching the hem of his trenchcoat, and revealing his feet. She slammed the ratchet down on his instep but he had a good, thick boot on. Rising to her knees, she hammered his foot again then his shin. In retaliation, he grabbed her by the ponytail, pulling her up but out of arm's reach.

"I don't want to hurt you," said Gambit.

"Your mistake," said Marie. She drove the ratchet into his stomach. It thunked. Damn. Body armour?

She twisted his hand out of her hair, swinging for his arm with the wrench. He blocked it, ducked the second swing and attempted to shove her, two-handed, over the couch. She turned aside. Still holding on to his coat, she yanked. There was enough power in that move to make him fall but he only tilted sideway, righting himself by some preternatural sense of balance-- was that part of his mutant power?-- and slipping his arms out of the sleeves. Marie used the momentum to spin around and whip him with his own coat. The coat buttons clanged against his teeth.

He grabbed his end of the coat, twisting it around his hand. "You like fighting."

"It's a great aerobic workout." She still had the wrench in her other hand. Just a foot closer and she'd have the perfect hit.

"I knew you'd be perfect for the hit. I'll let you think on it some more and drop off details at a later date."

Marie jerked herself to a better position. She swung the ratchet down over her head, aimed straight for his. With a grunt, he dove sideways, slipping perfectly through the window, leaving her with a trenchcoat, a useless voice recording, a playing card and a whole lot of anger.

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