xp_logs | Doug and Tabitha

Tabitha, at her wits end trying to find actual concrete information about the Hellfire Club, calls up the best information-gatherer she knows. She doesn't realize that he has very personal and intimate knowledge of the Club and its workings...

Tabitha glared at her computer screen in frustration. She could find nothing concrete about a modern Hellfire Club. The majority seemed to think it some sort of Urban Legend, like the Skull and Bones Society or the Illuminati.

On impulse, she picked up the phone and dialed Snow Valley. She had one more resource to try.

"Doug? It's Tabitha."

Doug was actually in the office, for somewhat of a change. Remy had him running from pillar to post handling Marie-Ange's contacts, but he couldn't be out in the field 100% of the time. And so he was checking up on the office's computers, checking electronic message drops, and a host of other small tasks that tended to pile up when he was gone. He put the phone in the crook of his shoulder to free both hands and continued typing away as he talked. "Hello, Tabitha. What can I do for you?" he asked curiously, no idea why she had called.

"I need your sexy brain," she said. "Did you perhaps hear about the small mess last year with me being dumb and getting kidnapped and having to be rescued by Mounties?"

Sexy brain? That caught Doug's attention. "Flattery will get you everywhere," he murmured, a bit more flirtatious and a bit less businesslike. "I kind of vaguely remember," he answered. He wasn't close friends with Tabitha, but he kept tabs on goings-on in general, and he did still have access to the X-Men's files on top of everything else.

"I fully admit to being poisoned and drugged and generally just out of it, but I can't imagine I hallucinated this. I don't know where I would have picked it up," she realized she was rambling and stopped. She picked up her battered notepad and looked down at it. She didn't really need to, but it helped her focus. "Do you know anything about something called the 'Hellfire Club' or the 'Black King?'"

Okay, Tabitha now very abruptly had the entirety of Doug's attention.

"I know a few things about the Hellfire Club," he said a bit cautiously, a wry undertone to his voice at the intentional bit of understatement. He tried to remember if Emma's association with the Club was public knowledge amongst people at Xavier's. "Why don't you start by telling me what you know, and how the subject came up?"

Tabs rested her forehead in her hand. He was going to think she was nuts. "It's been bugging me for a while. Most of the time between Porter drugging me and that fight with the pink-haired ... woman," she swallowed anger at the memory of Diamondback. "Most of it is blurry, not all there." She took a deep breath. "They were going to try to sell me to someone they called the King, with the Black Court." She ran a hand through her hair. "This isn't the first thing I've come up with. I've been poking at the Serpent Society, seriously, who names this stuff? And their members. That led me to a big dead end, so I started trying to remember more. My next step is requesting visitation with Diamondback." Her fist clenched at the memory of the pink-haired woman. Hopefully that encounter wouldn't end in somebody dead or dismembered.

Doug leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. Sebastian Shaw involved in the sex trade? Or was this Porter guy just attempting to get in good with the Black Court by way of a gift or favor? His brain came up with at least a dozen more questions, and the sense that this was far more complicated than he'd originally expected. "Maybe we should do this face to face," he said. "This seems to be getting a bit involved for the phone."

Tabitha zeroed in on what wasn't said. "You do know something," she said shortly. She didn't know if this was good luck or bad.

"I should hope that I know something about the Inner Circle of the Hellfire Club, considering I serve as the Knight of the White Court." Time to roll the dice and see what Tabitha thought of that.

Cold panic speared through her. She held the phone away from her ear as she fought it down. With a swallow, she put the phone back to her ear. "Doug? I've got to go, I'll get back to you on this okay?" She hit disconnect and wondered what to do.

"Balls." That could have gone...a lot better. Doug didn't even have to see Tabitha's face to see her hanging up for what it was, a thinly veiled panic-driven excuse. He grabbed his keys off the desk and set up his out-of-office messages.

---

*rap rap rap*

Doug played out the five to ten seconds he was likely to get from Tabitha when she opened her door in his head, trying to condense a maximum amount of reassurance into as few words as possible.

Tabitha was still trying to decide what to do when she heard the knock. She was almost grateful for the distraction. Fear, anger, and more anger that she was still afraid made her twitchy as she yanked the door open.

Doug wedged his foot in so that Tabitha couldn't immediately slam the door shut. "Hi," he said with a bit of a concerned look. "I guess I didn't explain well enough. Yes, I know about the Black Court because I'm on the White. But that doesn't mean the two courts work together. And I wouldn't be party to anything like what this Porter guy did to you." He didn't think Emma would, either. And if she was, she wouldn't be the sort of person Doug was willing to work for, and he would rather abruptly stop being part of the Hellfire Club.

Tabitha pressed her forehead to the door with a sigh. She squeezed her eyes shut as a million voices in her head argued amongst themselves. She looked up at Doug again before she took a step back. "You should come in. I'd lay odds this isn't hallway conversation."

"I'm thinking maybe not," Doug agreed, and stepped in and let Tabitha close the door behind him. He could read the barely-contained fight-or-flight instinct in her body language. "Are you okay?" he asked. "Is there something I can do to help?"

"I'd say a large bottle of booze would help, but it just turns me stupid, and not even the interesting-ending-up-naked-somewhere stupid." She remembered to breath and turned in a swirl of skirt to stand behind her couch. She clutched the back as if it would keep her from taking off in a cloud of fidgets. "Please, have a seat."

Doug sat down in a chair across from the couch, allowing Tabitha plenty of room for personal space. As fidgety as she was, and the way her fingers clenched against the couch, he didn't want to crowd her in any way. "The problem with booze is that when you wake up in the morning, the problem's still there. You just wind up putting it off for a night." It was a big reason he hadn't gone on a tearing bender since Marie-Ange's departure. That and the memory of pounding hangovers.

She resisted the urge for small-talk. Avoidance really wasn't her style. She chewed on her bottom lip, glanced over at the window, before she forced herself to look at Doug. "So, tell me," she invited.

Doug leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and his eyes on Tabitha's. "So. Hellfire 101," he quipped. He held his hands out as if holding a sphere. "The Hellfire Club is sort of like an onion, if you'll pardon the Shrek reference. Layers over layers. The outer layer, what you might hear about in society magazines and so forth, is that the Hellfire Club is a social organization that caters to the rich, famous, and influential. Membership tends to be either hereditary or merit-based." He continued gesturing with his hands, warming to the subject. "Underneath that layer is the...nature of the social events that tend to go on." He pursed his lips. "I suppose the best word is...bacchanalia. To the initiated, it's essentially a kinky sex club." He flipped one hand as if peeling another layer away from his metaphorical onion. "Underneath that, there is the Inner Circle, or sometimes called the Lords Cardinal. At each club, there is a pair of courts that stand in opposition, though they do sometimes come together for a common goal. In New York, there are the White and Black, in London the Red and Blue. Each court treats itself like the side of a chess board, with King, Queen, Knights, Bishops, and Rooks." He leaned back in the chair. "Sebastian Shaw serves as Black King. Shaw believes in power and nothing else. He sees power as its own end, and the Black Court mirrors him." He flip-flopped his hand to indicate oppositeness. "Emma Frost is the White Queen. She may not always have the whitest of intentions, but she believes in loyalty, and I believe in her. Otherwise I wouldn't be White Knight." He frowned. "I can't imagine Emma standing for anything like what Porter seems to have done to you, and I wouldn't either. It sounds like he wanted to somehow gain favor with Shaw, and Shaw alone. Except...I don't really think Shaw's into that sort of thing." He frowned.

Tabitha rubbed her head, eyes closed. "They seemed pretty interested in my bombs. Diamondback said they'd send me out to turn tricks if the other deal didn't work out." She sighed and walked around to sit heavily on the couch. "Trying to remember more makes my head hurt. Or it could be the concussion." She sat with her elbows on her knees and tried to process everything Doug had told her. "So he's not into the whole sex slave scene, eh?"

"Hm. That would make more sense," Doug said with a nod. "And not really. I mean, he'll participate in the usual orgies and suchlike with the Outer Circle, but...well, as brutal and straightforward as he can be, the man has -some- morals." Doug paused. "I think."

She stared at him, stuck between laughter and horror. "You think? You're so comforting, Doug."

Doug winced, imagining how it must feel from Tabitha's end. "Sorry. I just...I figured you'd rather have the truth of things than just something designed to be comforting, y'know? And..." He shrugged. "I didn't want you to have the wrong idea about me." Friends were thin enough on the ground as it was.

She started laughing, and shivering. She squeezed her eyes shut against a sudden burning and tried very hard to stay laughing, instead of crying.

"Oh damn," Doug murmured. He could see the shiver, and then the struggle in her face. He stood from his chair and crossed slowly towards her, not making any sudden moves. He scuffed his feet gently so she could hear him moving even with her eyes closed.

She looked up at him. "I just-- I don't even know. I thought if I could find things out, maybe I'd be less angry, all the time." Then she felt the hot tracks of moisture on her cheeks and knew she'd lost the fight.

Doug pulled Tabitha into his arms gently and made soothing nonsense noises as he rubbed her back. He made a note to himself to find out whatever he could about this Porter guy. Above and beyond putting the screws to anyone who wanted in with the Black Court, anybody who the memory of could make someone like Tabs cry...

She let herself sink into the human contact, taking comfort for a few brief moments. Then she forced herself to sit up, wipe her face. "I'm sorry," she said. "That was just stupid."

Doug shook his head. "Not stupid. Just human." He rubbed her back gently. "Feel a little better to get that out?"

She wiped her face with her hands and tried to smile. "Feeling a little melodramatic, really." She paused for a sniff. "But yes. Better."

Doug smiled back encouragingly. "Anything else I can help with?"

"Not unless you can locate the scumbag flesh peddler bitches and their pet teleporter," she sighed with a rueful smile. "They got away and that burns."

"How about we get out of here?" Doug asked. "Might do you some good to be someplace else and clear your head, I'm thinking?"

Tabs smiled wanly. "You're not the first person to think so and it did work, despite supposed pictorial blackmail material."

Doug raised his eyebrows and quirked a smile. "Oh? Blackmail material? Do tell." He was always game for a good (if embarrassing) story, after all.

She rolled her eyes as she stood. "I don't remember and she won't tell me. So, no booze for this girly, not for at least a week." Which could conceivably turn into half an hour.

"Fine by me." Doug didn't need booze to have a good time, after all. It helped sometimes, but he was far from a lush. "Come on, quit stalling and grab your keys."

~*~

"Huddle House? You take me the nicest places, Doug," Tabitha grinned as she shut down her Mustang. "Good thing I adore waffles."

"Doesn't have to be high end to be good," Doug told her with an answering grin. "Besides, I try to pay attention to the things people like."

She felt her cheeks flush as she locked the doors to her car. "Greasy spoon happens to be a favorite of mine," she said.

Doug noticed the flushed cheeks, and unobtrusively assessed Tabitha's body language as they entered the restaurant and sat down. He decided to test the theory and brushed his hand against hers across the table as he reached for a menu. "There's something just fun about having breakfast for dinner," he said with a grin.

Tabitha started, just a tiny bit, at the contact. Doug's a friend, stop being so jumpy and really stop imagining him naked! she scolded herself. She smiled instead. "Amelia would give me one of her looks if she saw what I'm about to order. There's nothing balanced about these hash browns."

Doug's eyes twinkled as he examined his own menu. "I think Frau Doktor Voght wouldn't know a good time if it jumped up and bit her in the ass," he noted. "Besides, I forget where I read it, but there's a saying that I like. 'All things in moderation...'" he
trailed off a bit, his voice lowering suggestively. "'...including moderation.'"

She stopped breathing for just a fraction of a second. She wanted to shake her head, clean out her ears, and knew she was imagining that tone in Doug's voice. She flipped out her food diary as a cover. "Regardless of her perception of fun, she does know moderation." Tabitha cleared her throat. "And she makes sure I stick to it."

That had definitely gotten a reaction. This was a different sort of dance than the ones Doug had been taking part in since Marie-Ange had left. This was more...subtle, roundabout. The direct approach would probably scare her off. Better to maneuver it to the point where she brought it up naturally. "Every so often you need to let your hair down and cut loose, though," he observed.

She gave a one-shouldered, embarrassed shrug. "I don't do loose very well. You may not have noticed this, but I can be a bit uptight and spastic." Which didn't stop her from wanting.

Doug suspected that Tabitha had no idea how obvious the need and want in her body language was. It didn't even take his power, it just took attention to the cues she was giving. "I noticed," he said gently. "It just means you're clenching too tight to...well, everything." There was no malice in the assessment, just friendship. He reached across and rested his hand on top of hers. "So you just need to learn to set it aside for a bit. Life will still be there tomorrow, just...let go of it for tonight."

She started when his hand covered hers, eyes locked to where they touched. He was warm. "I-" she hesitated. "I wouldn't know where to start."

"Well, don't think about it. Just do whatever comes naturally."

Her lips parted at she tilted her head to meet his eyes. "I- Okay. I can do that," she said softly.