Wanda and Irene Merryweather

[x-scarletwitch.livejournal.com]

After weeks of searching, Wanda finally locates Irene Merryweather and they have a chat.



From country to country, you could count on a number of things to be the same. Bathrooms, libraries and the fast spreading internet cafe. Wanda paused outside of the one in Schaan, Liechtenstein so she could slip her sunglasses off and tuck them away into her purse. When she entered, the place looked practically deserted - it looked just off the beaten path enough to ensure limited crowds. Besides the workers, there was a tired looking mom with a baby, two teenagers who were certainly up to something their parents would have frowned upon and an intense looking blond in the back.

Wanda made a beeline for her. "Frau Merryweather?" she asked, though she knew the answer already seeing as she was carrying nearly a notebook of information on the woman in her purse. When the woman looked up, Wanda grinned. Just a little. "Ah, as I thought. You certainly do not make it easy to find you."

Irene Merryweather eyed her for a moment, her expression remarkably composed. Piercing blue eyes slid past Wanda, to check for anyone following her in, even as the reporter closed her laptop carefully. "I do hope you came alone," she said, a hint of an Australian accent audible in her voice. "If I have to shoot my way out of here, I'm liable to make a mess. Haven't quite got the hang of the new mutation yet."

"As if back-up were really necessary." She left out why it would be unnecessary - either Wanda could handle her on her own or there really was no danger of back up becoming necessary. She perched her hip on the table as she continued. "Wanda Maximoff. By the by, Markus sends his regards from Barcelona and asked me, once I finally managed to locate you, to remind you that if you're able to he really would rather have that article sooner than later."

Merryweather made a face. "I suppose it would have been more sensible to stop working for the duration," she said, "but I rather enjoy being a reporter." She waved a hand at the seat opposite hers. "You may as well sit down," she said, tossing long blonde hair back over her shoulder and giving Wanda a frank, assessing look. "I somehow doubt you've come all this way to leave without answers. Esther used to tell me how persistent you would be. Pardon the bizarre tenses."

"Really? How unusual. I tend to give most precogs a bit of indigestion sometimes." Though she supposed as she got comfortable, that a determined one could hone in on her when she wasn't utilizing her abilities. "I'm going to be a bit frank, Miss Merryweather. Your sudden appearance concerned Nathan quite a deal and I take considerable objection to that. The travel and the hours of research - as brilliant, mind you, as my detective work was hunting you down -do not concern me as much as his well being does." The mild amusement faded for a moment, leaving behind only flint. It faded as she leaned back. "Answers and a spot of dinner would not go amiss."

Merryweather shrugged, then flagged down one of the waitresses. She ordered a soup and sandwich in fluent German, then paused to let Wanda place her own order. "I regret one thing about what happened in Morocco," she said as the waitress moved away. "Namely, that Nathan ever had to discover I existed. I swore an oath to his mother on her deathbed that I would never approach him. But we found out very late what Trask was planning."

Wanda said something very rude in German upon hearing Trask's name and looked for all the world as if she would have spit on the floor if they'd been outside. "I should have done more than just break her nose," she grumbled before she drank deeply from the glass of water that the waitress had left. "But thank you for answering at least one question for me already - there was always just a little bit of doubt about if his mother had truly died or not."

Merryweather swallowed, and for a moment, her blue eyes were suspiciously bright. "She died in Tel Aviv, the same year that Nathan escaped from Mistra. She really had no business traveling, at that point - she was dying. Terminal cancer. But she knew she'd see him, if she went. I think, after all she'd lost, she just... needed to be selfish, at the end."

Of all the things Wanda had been expecting, grief that strong from a stranger was almost disarming. "You mourn her, still," she commented. "The bond must have been strong for you to stay true to your word to her even after her death. I told Nathan that this was like a giant chess game and we were simply the pawns. The problem is that the rules are unknown, as is the prize. I understand the need for secrecy, I understand those that see into the future but I also understand that in my line of work, in my life, not knowing will get you killed."

"A chess game." Irene's hands moved restlessly before she folded them together on the table in front of her. "Too apt an image - and that's why I've been true to my word all these years and stayed away from Nathan. Esther felt he'd been manipulated enough. It wasn't just Gideon and Saul, it was what she had to do, to try and counter them... the guilt all but ate her alive."

"Chessmasters," Wanda sighed, leaning back to let the waitress place plates on the table in front of them. "Trust me, I am more than familiar with families such as that. You know as well as I do that whatever you tell me I will tell Nathan. I made no such promises to Esther and I feel this game as gone on far enough. By dint of that, I know you won't be telling me everything - what can you tell me?"

She got a flash of an odd, appraising smile in return. "You're very direct, aren't you?" Irene shrugged, the smile returning, lingering. "I appreciate directness. I've just had relatively little opportunity to indulge in it myself."

Wanda paused for a moment. She wasn't surprised that Irene was potentially flirting with her, as that happened more times than she could count; she was simply thinking about how to potentially blow up Nate's brain with this amusing idea. "I spent the last countless amounts of hours tracking you through at least five different countries, using up several favors and abusing several others. I would buy you dinner if we could just indulge in some ... directness today."

"Fine. What would you like to know, versus what I can tell you - I don't distrust you, per se. But Esther's visions had their limits, and one never knows, does one?" Irene shrugged again, picking up her soup spoon. "~I suppose you could call me an Askani,~" she said, speaking the aforesaid language flawlessly. "~Esther taught a number of us.~"

"~You are full of surprises, my friend,~" Wanda replied, arching an eyebrow at the woman across from her. She took a bite out of the stew that was in front of her and it let her gather her thoughts. The last person to speak Askani to her that hadn't been Nathan had been Trask; and then she'd gone out through the bathroom window. She doubted very much that this would be a repeat of that. "I had the privilege of a... more direct download, as it were. But I'm interested in seeing exactly what I could bring back to Nathan - he doesn't quite know I'm here, to be honest."

"So much the better," Irene said. "I may have broken my promise, but I don't intend to dance on its shattered pieces." She pushed at her sandwich, as if she was rethinking her decision to order it. "What Esther did, teaching me and the others - we were meant to counter Gideon."

Rubbing at the bridge of her nose, Wanda really rather regretted the whole chess analogy. "The world must have it's balance," she remarked, pausing only to eat more stew. The flights had been long ones and her appetite had never been a shy one. "But why the secrecy? If Nate were to know, would it disrupt things that much?"

Irene sighed, giving her a very direct look. "Let me ask you something. How has he reacted, to knowing that the people who rescued him are tied to his mother? I somehow doubt he's welcomed our existence with open arms."

"There was much flailing and drinking, I will give you that," she sighed. "To be honest, I do not know if I can blame him. He wants this over with and if he cannot have that then he wants to know what the end game is. I doubt I will get that out of you today but I would appreciate any bread crumbs."

"Esther thought his family had done him enough harm," Irene said, more pensively. "She didn't want the rest of us doing any more, in her posthumous honor. I've been trying to imagine what she'd say to me, over this." Her lips tightened. "But we couldn't let Trask take him. I hope that Esther would understand, given how much she hated the crazy bitch. Truthfully, Wanda, I would have been perfectly happy to focus on my day job and cleaning up Gideon's messes wherever we found them, and leave Nathan to his work. That was the idea, once the old bastard was safely in the grave."

Wanda didn't say say because she knew the other woman would take offense - but the idea of gate keepers, even on the sidelines, sent a frisson of unease through her spine. "But Gideon's influence spread wider than you originally thought, correct?" she asked instead, looking up from her food.

"Look at Taygetos. How long it stayed hidden. We may never know of all the projects the VULCAN thinktank initiated over the years," Irene said, and the wistful edge to her tone was that of a reporter who knew there were stories out there she'd never find. "Trask knows more than she should. We tried to let her ferret them out for us, then move in when they were exposed. But then she turned her attention to Nathan and things became much more complicated."

Wanda snorted at that. "Complicated. You could say that. Look, I understand your promise and the limitations of what you are working under. Is there anything more concrete you can give me?" She wasn't one to plead or sound desperate but she had traveled quite the distance and she was simply tired of seeing Nathan dance to someone else's tune.

"Oh," Irene said, sounding almost sarcastic now, "there's a great deal I could tell you about Gideon's legacy. But if I did, and you gave it to him, I may as well fly to Westchester and clap him in chains. Freeing him from the need to clean up his family's mess was the only gift Esther could give him. Besides - all I know about you, Wanda, is what Esther saw of you in proximity to her son." She turned his hands, palms-up. "I don't know who you work for these days, whether you're still with the X-Men, what interests may be at work here. The best I can offer is more information about Trask, although I don't have much of that. If I knew where to find her, she'd be dead already."

Leaning back, Wanda had to admit Irene had a point. Her path had split from Nathan's years back; despite her reserve status, she'd traded in her leathers for the trenchcoat and with reason. Still. She realized suddenly she might still have a card or two up her sleeve. "My apologies, Irene, my concern for Nate forced me to push. You're correct, you know less than I know of you considering I have been searching for you these few weeks. Information is precious, so I offer you a trade." She leaned forward suddenly, eyes darkening as she remembered all those years before. "What do you know of my encounters with the Askani? And, more importantly, would further information of them be of use to you if, of course, we find ourselves mutually agreeing that we are both trust worthy?"

Irene raised an eyebrow. "We know very little," she said. "Just that you encountered Askani somehow, that it was a bond between you and Nathan. Esther wouldn't have seen you at all, otherwise - her precognition was very specific."

Perfect. "If I am still with the X-Men is not relevant," Wanda responded, clasping her hands under her chin. "I am an anthropologist first and foremost. When I met him and found out about the Askani, I proposed that I chronicle their history. Askani and Nate were both enthusiastic."

Now she took a deep breath. Sometimes she still woke up dreaming of flames in her mind. "The night that she 'died', she came to me. It was of the utmost importance that the Askani live on and we had barely scratched the surface in our meetings. In rough terms, I received a brain dump of information. Every single piece of their history was shoved into my mind. With that much information it had to channel itself - I wrote. Half-asleep most of the time but I wrote. Journals now exist of the entire history of the Askani people."

"Well. That would certainly make recruitment easier," Irene almost drawled, but the look in her pale eyes was sharp, intent. "Not to mention that there are a good many very well-intentioned people working for Trask who might be open to persuasion, given the right kind of evidence that they're going about this completely wrong."

"A trade, then. I think you can understand that I cannot give you all of the journals at once. For one, I will need to make copies. And secondly you had an excellent point of us not knowing each other. Yet. Give me information on Trask and I will make sure I send the first book to you."

Irene tilted her head from side to side, if considering. "We have some information we haven't been able to use," she said finally. "There are things we can't do. Attacking some of these bank accounts she's set up to fund what she's been doing - not really within our purview." She gave a tiny, dry smile. "We're set up more for direct action."

"I have just the person for that kind of job," Wanda mused, already building up a mental bribe for Doug. "What I am doing now handles more direct and indirect action. I think, when all is said and done, that we might be able to work out a good working relationship." She smiled and wondered exactly how much of this Nathan would hear before having a slight heart attack.