Mutant Michelangelo // The evening itself...

[x-dazzler.livejournal.com]

The first engagement of the evening ends in embarrassing ways for Wanda and Nathan's poor targets. And here the bad guys thought they were being clever.

Wanda took a small sip of her wine and eyed the stone sculpture in front of her.  Turning her head this way and that, she still couldn't figure out exactly WHAT it was supposed to be.  But she wondered if that was the entire point of art, to make those who did not do it go "Ahhh" "Ohhh" and mentally "...what on earth?".  It was, without a doubt, very pretty and very well made.

But what was it?

"A dancer," Nathan's voice came from behind her. He was sipping on what appeared to be club soda, looking completely at ease in the upscale crowd. "That would be my guess. A girl, dancing."

Taking a step back, she tilted her head until it was nearly upside down.  "Oh.  There it is.  ...did you cheat and read his mind?"

"Possibly," Nathan conceded, then offered her a glass. "Nonalcoholic punch. Figured you could use a drink. You've been deluged by admirers all evening," he said wryly.

"Ah, but notice it was only one glass of wine.  Every time they gave me one I'd discreetly put it on an out going tray."  Still, she accepted the punch.  Wine tended to leave her mouth a little dry and she had been chatted up for most of the evening.  It felt...nice.

Nathan's eyes flickered to the far doors, narrowing. #Heads up,# he said. #Two of our bigoted art critics coming in looking furtive.# They were dressed to fit in with the crowd, which made him think that they were trying to be clever about whatever they were planning.

#Well, at least they aren't the cute ones I was chatting with,# Wanda replied, putting down the drinks and pretending to be incredibly drawn into the statue again.

Nathan leaned over her shoulder, even as he scanned the two. #One's got a can of spray paint,# he reported, in outrage. #The other's going to block for him if someone tries to stop him. They're intending to scope out the biggest piece and have at it.#

A wave of outrage washed over her before she clamped down on at.  Hard.  Turning her head to look up at Nathan, Wand fluttered her eyelashes at him.  Anyone else would have mistaken that for a flirting look.  But the conversation had a different turn to it.  #Oh, I think we should 'have at it' don't you?#

Nathan linked his arm in hers, drawing her onwards to the next piece. Incidentally, moving that way gave them a better look at the two well-dressed FoH members as they skulked around the edges of the crowd, trying to find their opportunity. #Why don't you take the little one who's planning to provide distraction? I'll deal with the graffiti artist.#

#Oh good.  He tried to give me his number earlier.#  She let Nathan led her around another statue and tucked her hands further into his arm to mask the sudden, small blaze of red around her hands.  #Ohh, all the pretty lines...#

#And you're going to yank them all askew, aren't you?# Nathan was busy focusing on the would-be graffiti-artist, subtly worming his way into the man's mind.

#Was I going to do anything else?# Yanking the strings in this enclosed space would end badly, she mused, quickly studying the intricte lines in her mind.  There was a time for subtle playing and now was it.  Reaching out, she touched one string and then another, kind of like a talented musician stroking a song out from his guitar.

The man in question stepped around a rather corpulent woman, trying to provide cover for his friend as he moved in.  Unfortunately, the woman happened to take offence at what her companion had said and took a sudden step backwards.  The FoHer ran right into her and bounced over, tripping over his own feet and the woman's dress before being sent straight into the punch bowl.

#...I liked that punch!#

Nathan telepathically directed one of the plainclothes police officers to the fallen man. The young officer did a rather admirable job of appearing to help the FoH member to his feet and urged him towards the public washrooms, well out of sight, where another officer was waiting to help escort him out. #Nicely done,# he complimented Wanda.

#Why thank you.#  There was a wicked gleam in her eyes.  #I love watching the outcomes.  Now, your turn to razzle dazzle.#

The man with the spray-paint secreted in his jacket pocket was looking startled and considerably worried by his partner's abrupt disappearance. Nathan eyed him, encouraging the already-present worries about whether or not he could do this by himself. #Of course you can't. Entirely too risky. The crowd would pounce on you the moment that you started.#

The man shifted from foot to foot, looking panicky. Nathan soothed him absently. #Just walk out those doors,# he said, directing the man towards the main doors. #And when you see the uniformed officers outside? Hand the spray paint over and tell them what you were planning to do. Only mannerly.#

Wanda was stifling a laugh as the man suddenly turned and headed out of the doors, quietly, carrying the spray paint can with him.  "Not so much razzle dazzle," she said with a smile, "but very well done.  Alas, I had been hoping for a chicken imitation myself but we can't get everything we want, can we?"

"A chicken imitation would have been entertaining, yes," Nathan said, "but it's rather nice to show that we can be subtle, isn't it?"

Wanda pouted at him.  "Next time?"

"Just for you."

~*~

Nathan creeps up on Bobby and informs him of the fact that he's giving the éclairs on the dessert table quite the competition as far as some of the evening's attendees are concerned. Another poor would-be villain gets routed as well.

"You're giving off the lost-puppy aura." Nathan had come up soundlessly behind Bobby, appearing out out of the crowd with a suddenness that a six foot four man in a tuxedo shouldn't have been able to manage. "There are a number of women entirely too old for you in this crowd who are looking at you as if you're one of the eclairs off the dessert table."

Bobby looked startled and glanced around the room.  "...Nuh-uh," he replied intelligently, trying to spot these women.

"Uh-huh. Who's the telepath here?" Nathan sipped at his water, his gaze moving slowly around the room as his mind did the same. "What do you think of the art?"

"They're, uh--interesting.  These women...where are they?"  Bobby was peering warily around now, looking much less subtle than when he'd been looking for actual trouble, now that rich older women wanted to sink their claws into him.

"I could tell you, but then it wouldn't be nearly as much fun to watch you squirm," Nathan said amiably. Yes, Dayspring, you are a mean old man.

"Aw man," Bobby said quietly, suddenly feeling like he was in a room full of circling sharks.  Sharks in pearls and $5000 evening gowns, but sharks nonetheless.  "Thanks, you're a real pal," he muttered under his breath.

"I'm sorry, was 'nice guy' in my job description?" Nathan asked, a smile tugging at his lips. "You might be interested to know that now most of them are eyeing me. I wonder if that's why I came over to say hello. Given that all I need to do is flash my wedding band."

Bobby sighed and relaxed slightly, feeling slightly less like several pairs of eyes were boring holes in him.  "Man, I feel out of place," he complained, tugging at his collar.  "Like I made a wrong turn on the way to prom, or something, and ended up here by accident."  Possibly a side-effect of dating a seventeen-year-old.

"This is definitely what one would term an upscale evening." Nathan gave Bobby a critical look. "Stop fussing with it. You're disturbing the bow tie."

"It's choking me," Bobby complained, frowning.  But he obediently dropped his hand.  "Why couldn't it have been some openly mutant basketball player, instead?" he asked under his breath.

"Because jock culture is not conducive to being out of the closet," Nathan said with a straight face, "whether it's concerning your sexual orientation or your genetic status." He set his empty glass on a waiter's tray as the young man moved by silently. #Look at those two,# he murmured, directing Bobby's attention to a pair of young men by one of the entrances, whispering furiously to each other.

Bobby'd been about to reply, but he closed his mouth and looked in the direction Nathan's mental nudge had urged, looking casually disinterested.

#Not art critics of the acceptable sort,# Nathan said, scanning them idly. #Not prepared to do anything more than make a fuss, at least, but that's more than we're willing to tolerate, isn't it?#

Bobby smirked and shook his head ever so slightly.  That's why we're here, isn't it? he thought back, a small smile curving his lips.  Things were finally getting interesting.  Any ideas?

Nathan eyed the two of them. #Well, that one seems like the type who'd run for the door if he, oh, felt his pants starting to slide in the general direction of his ankles.#

Bobby put his hand to his mouth and coughed to mask the laugh that bubbled up at that.  Do it, he urged gleefully, watching the two men out of the corner of his eye.

Deftly, Nathan focused a tendril of telekinesis on the FoHer's pants. The man jumped suddenly, grasping at the waistband of his pants, and pushed his wine glass into his companion's hand as he hurried out. #Freeze that,# Nathan sent thoughtfully to Bobby, eyeing the wineglass. #If he's breaking dishes, I can direct one of the plainclothes officers over to usher him out discreetly.#

Bobby licked his lips, gauging the distance, and splayed his fingers at his side unconsciously.  The wine in the glass froze solid, and the glass itself dropped nearly a hundred degrees in seconds, practically jumping out of the man's hand as it shattered.

The noise went almost unnoticed, with the size of the crowd, only those right around the man really noticing. Nathan smoothly directed one of the plainclothes police officers mingling with the crowd to the man's side. The man was ushered out smoothly and silently, and one of the catering staff appeared to clean up the mess.

"That was easy," Bobby murmured with a smile.  Hopefully that was about the extent of the scenes they would be causing tonight.

"Wanda sent someone crashing into the punch bowl, earlier," Nathan said. "But the caterers generally figure in the cost of a few broken dishes, so..." He took a glass of punch off the next tray that went by, and raised it in half-salute to Bobby. #I'm off to make another circuit of the room. If the woman with the mink stole heads your way, run like hell. She fancies herself something of a Mrs. Robinson.#

Bobby's eyes widened and his head whipped around, trying to spot the woman in question so he could keep an eye on him.  "Thanks for the tip."

~*~

Kylun and Alison find a few hapless victims - er, villains - of their own to pick on. Subtlety in the disposal of unwanted guests is the rule of the evening, clearly.

Kylun wandered easily through the exhibition hall, resolutely ignoring the stares and murmurs that arose in his wake, and likewise ignoring the impulse to adjust his collar, which still felt too tight.

He directed a sidelong grin at Alison, walking beside him, and murmured "I hope at least a few of these people are staring at you. My plan to hide behind the celebrity clearly is not working very well."

There was a decidedly cheerful glint to Alison's gaze as she looked about the room, clearly enjoying the attention and the odd whisper and sidelong look. "Oh, I'd say a few are," she replied, matter of fact, and then grinned wickedly. "But I think the woman who nearly walked into the wall back then was only looking at you."

"Yes, well, it is not every day one sees a lion in a suit, is it?" Kylun made a wry face--that suddenly evaporated into an intent stare. "Those two men, ahead and to our right--the black-haired man with the beard, and the one next to him in the checked tie.  Are those in their ears what they appear to be?"

Glancing in the opposite direction, Alison waited a moment until she could catch their reflections in the glass over the exhibit's floorplan - a light shining perhaps brighter than the others near the men was all that was needed, really, for a flash of reflection to perhaps confirm Kylun's suspicions. "Mmm, could be. Gimme a second and I'll take a more direct look," she added, smiling casually at some of the people walking past her with a curious look on their faces.

Kylun nodded, and ventured a smile of his own at a bony young woman in an unflatteringly gaudy dress, who started and veered off.  He sighed quietly and returned to his surreptitious observation of the two men.

"Mm, no fair. With those eyes, it's actually harder for people to figure out you're looking at them." Alison pouted at that, the very image of the spoiled rock star princess. "Boo!" She kept watch over the rest of the room as she spoke, her apparently casual gestures hiding whatever caught her interest easily. "Doesn't seem to be any of their buddies nearby. Shall we, then?"

#Dazzler, Kylun, you've got two right there,# Nathan's voice said in their minds, his presence directing them to the two they'd already spotted. #They're planning to go over and harass Saggus. See the way they're sizing up potential paths through the crowd?#

#Indeed,# Kylun replied wryly.  #Also their earbuds, which we had already noticed.  But thank you for the confirmation.#

There was a brief, offended silence. #Well, it's not as if I don't have a sizeable crowd to sort through here. Speaking of which...# Nathan's presence faded, leaving behind only the vague sense of him that constituted the switchboard in dormant form.

Alison smothered a grin at that, tracking the motion of the two men Kylun had spotted by the reactions of those around them rather than staring at the men directly herself. "Well, that's our confirmation if any..." She pondered the situation for a moment, bringing up a mental image of the gallery's floorplan which they'd been given earlier to look over. "We've got two empty rooms to pick from... now, how do we herd them over in a nice and civilized way. Hrm."

Kylun thought for a moment, then grinned wickedly.  "When my powers emerged, my master encouraged me to learn ventriloquism as a way to practice them.  And I have watched a number of police dramas in my time here.  These are likely to be nervous men . . ."

A slow, amused smile greeted that remark. "And there's nothing like a little game of cops and robbers to liven a party up, mmm? Without anyone noticing of course... you know, I bet I could do something interesting with a light and shadow play to help this along..." she tilted her head to the side in thought, then looked around the room, eyeing it critically.

"I could very much come to enjoy these subtle missions," Kylun said thoughtfully, searching his memory for suitable phrases.  "The trick, of course, will be to send them where we wish for them to go without frightening them so badly that they disrupt the party . . ."

"Mmm. Cops have one patrol on the door giving to the east, don't they? There's a room that's unused they'd have to go through to get to there and that'd give us ample material to work with for atmosphere and get them away from people." Alison paused, then smiled innocently. "And if they get too loud, hey, I can take care of the sound at that point..."

"And if they draw weapons--well, I do try not to boast, but I would imagine that between the two of us we can deal with that possibility." Gallantly, Kylun offered her his arm.  "Shall we?"

"I do believe we shall indeed," was the cheerful reply, Alison pausing once to beam at yet another whispering pair nearby, before the two started to make their way through the room to intercept their targets.

~*~

The key moment of the evening finally arrives - and is dealt with admirable calm and resourcefulness by Bobby and Nathan. Icicles aren't every girl's best friend, don'tcha know.

Having made yet another circuit of the room - he was beginning to lose count of just how many times he'd done that - Nathan had taken up a position on the fringes of the crowd surrounding the artist himself. Saggus was clearly enjoying himself, his gestures animated and a wide smile on his face as he tried to convey to his immediate admirers just what had been going through his head when creating the sculpture in front of them, a particularly stunning lacework of quartz with patterns in it that Nathan could have stared at for hours, fascinated, if he hadn't had other priorities.

His mind was still wandering the room, even if his body was stationary. When he came across a mind whose patterns were completely at odds with the crowd surrounding it, Nathan's eyes narrowed. He looked in that direction, but couldn't see the person approaching. Too many people in the way. He scanned a little deeper. A young woman, he realized, and in her mind, clear as day, was the image of what she was carrying in her purse and what she intended to do with it.

#Gun,# he sent out coolly across the telepathic switchboard.

Bobby froze with a canape halfway to his mouth, eyes scanning the people around him.  Where? he thought in Nathan's direction, popping the hors d'ouvre into his mouth and rubbing a few crumbs absently from his hands.

#Wait one. I can't...# Nathan's eyes narrowed further and he skimmed around the minds in the immediate vicinity, seeing through their eyes. #Female, mid-twenties. Short dark hair, blue dress. Gun in her purse. She's closest to you, Iceman - do you see her?#

No...wait! Bobby's eyes fell on a woman matching the description.  Got her.  He casually strolled in her general direction, not wanting to lose her in a crowd, but kept an inconspicuous distance between them until ordered to do otherwise.

#Good.# Nathan got a hard telepathic lock on her as well. #Dazzler, orders?# he asked, well aware of Alison watching intently on the mindnet, waiting until Bobby made the visual ID. #I'm loathe to let her get in close.#

#If anyone can take her out subtly, it's you two,# was the calm, confident reply. #Take out the weapon first - preferably out of sight, if you can. Iceman, you've got lead on that. Cable is your backup in case of trouble. We're all moving in slowly as well, though we don't want to attract her attention or that of any other possibly lookouts she may have. Go for it!#

#I still can't see her,# Nathan sent tensely to Bobby. #Too much movement in the crowd, it's messing with my TK sonar... I can't jam the gun from here.#

In her purse, you said? Bobby thought back, sidling closer. I can get it.  He dropped his eyes to her bag, intending to freeze the contents completely, when her hand dipped down, snapping the catch open and slipping inside smoothly.  Shit, she's going for the gun--if I move now, I'll probably take her hand with it!  The last was not directed at Nathan, but was probably strong enough to reach him, anyway.
#Do it,# Nathan said, his mental voice flat. #I can't focus on the gun, and if I can't focus on the gun, I can't catch the bullet.#

Bobby flinched at the thought and shook his head slightly.  As soon as I can see the weapon... he hedged, his concentration focused on her wrist.  Once the gun cleared her purse, it'd only take him a fraction of a second.  And she wasn't making any sudden movements, so that should be plenty fast enough.

Nathan waited, tense, well-aware of the matching tension from the others on the mindnet. Instinctively, he was already visualizing a shield around Saggus. If a shot was fired, he'd catch it. He just hoped Bobby was fast enough that it didn't get that far.

The moment the gun cleared the purse, Bobby let the shape and size of it fill his awareness, dropping the temperature drastically within it, solidifying every open space inside with ice.  That gun ain't firing now, he thought with a note of pride.

The young woman froze, shock on her face. Nathan, thinking fast, clamped down on her speech center, nudging the gun back into the purse as she started to drop it. A quick heads-up to two of the plainclothes officers, and they were walking her out. She looked stunned all the way, her mouth moving silently and nothing coming out.

Bobby broke into a wide grin and caught Nathan's eye across the room. Nice.  That couldn't have gone smoother if they'd planned it. Damn, it was good to be back on the team.

~*~

After everything is dealt with, the team stays to enjoy the rest of the evening, as well as to keep an eye out just in case of more trouble. Alison decides chocolate is the best reward possible, much to Nathan's dismay.

The cameras were clicking away merrily, bright lights blazing away in the various rooms of the large gallery and spilling into the street, tempting passers by into peeking through the window to see what all the fuss was about. It wasn't an aftershow soiree such as Alison had known in her time, but nonetheless, it was close enough and it was still fun. Especially now that the bulk of their work was done, subtly and successfully so, and they could at least relax a bit while still keeping an eye out in case of more trouble. Humming to herself, Alison surveyed the room once more, a fair dose of proprietary satisfaction showing on her face.

Nathan took a glass of punch from the tray offered to him by one of the waiters and sipped at it, trying to let the residual tension drain away. The rest of the team had melted back into the crowd, as planned, although he could sense each of them still connected to the telepathic switchboard. He supposed he could let that go, now.

Feeling a faint something being turned off in the back of her mind, Alison turned and looked around, spotting Nathan not to far away. Waiting a moment longer, surveying the crowd one last time as well as the knot of people around the artist of the night, Alison then headed in his direction, still humming lightly under her breath.

Nathan raised his glass in ironic salute as she reached his side. "To a successful exhibit," he suggested. "Bobby did a good job."

"Yes, he did." Alison nodded smartly once at that, pleased with the fact that indeed, it had been a nice and quiet mission, relatively speaking. She raised her own glass in return, the sparkling water within catching the light playfully. "Everyone did. Nice and quiet, just like we wanted. No fuss at all, really, when you look over how everything went."

Nathan gave her a faint, whimsical smile. "You look like the cat that got into the cream. Any minute now I expect to see you cleaning your nonexistent whiskers." He took a sip of his punch. "Nice, though, to finish a job without so much as a bruise on either side. I could get used to this."

"Oooh, so could I," was the fervent reply, Alison taking a brief sip of her water. "We should be so lucky, though. Still," she continued, scanning the room idly just because she could, "I'm very happy about this." For several reasons, many of them involving how disastrous her latest outings had all been beforehand, either mission related or not, really. She let out  a slow breath, tension she hadn't realized had been accumulating also slowly easing away from her. "And no strain at all for you, right? Moira's going to be happy."

"No strain at all," Nathan confirmed, his expression somewhat knowing. He didn't need to scan her mind to know where it was probably going. "Charles will be happy, too. Demonstrations of finesse get me cookies with my tea." He gave her a playful smile.

"Ooh! The chocolate chip ones? Yeah, I earned those a few times of late." Alison nodded smugly - obviously playing it up, but then again, she was in a good mood. And since it was usually during those talks which had to do with what had happened at Ryker's Island, she fully intended to be smug about her progress, really. "Aw... Dammit. Now I have a chocolate craving."

"There are some rather nice eclairs over on the dessert buffet still, I think," Nathan said with a completely straight face. "I may have sampled one myself." A slightly quizzical look passed across his face. "I was hungry."

A snorted, inelegant sound was muffled behind one very delicately raised hand. "Moron. That sort of things happens when you're still healing, y'know!" She then gave him a sideways, suspicious look. "Waaait. Aren't you supposed to stay away from chocolate? Mmm?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "I had one of the caramel ones, thank you very much. But there was a plate of chocolate as well," he said primly. "I was careful. Delphic fits are not conducive to maintaining the integrity of the evening."

"Well, that's the polite way to put it," Alison said sweetly, the very picture of innocence. "Ooh. Wait, is that what I think I see?" The waiter bearing a tray, fresh out of the small area the caterers had commandeered hours ago, turned around the instant Alison's eyes locked on him with the practice of many, many years in the business. And headed towards them with a knowing, serene expression. "Ooh, yes. It is. Strawberries dipped in chocolate. Ooooh."

"I hate you," Nathan said, just as sweetly. "You evil, evil woman."

"Mmm!" Which was the only reply one could decently give after a waiter had bowed before one with a platter full of strawberries dipped in chocolat and then made sure to loiter about so that one was always near at hand. Alison beamed at Nathan, and made sure to reward the waiter's effort by doing much justice to the dessert at hand.

"Chocolate allergy," Nathan said sadly as the waiter offered him the platter. "But they look marvelous." Alison helped herself to a second, then a third, and Nathan gave her a reproachful look. How did she manage to gobble the damned things without looking like a demented chipmunk?