A Bar in Amsterdam: Let's Go to the Circus

[x-bamf.livejournal.com]

The gang follow Troy's lead and get yet another clue. And Kurt gets to show off.



"I'm sure they are very lovely people," the beautiful Italian woman drawled, looking over the group that Troy had just introduced. "And yes, I am quite sure your friend here would very much like to find this woman again." She shrugged, taking a moment to glance away. "But what would we know? We are simple circus folk."

Her manner seemed casual, but there was a wariness in the gaze that wandered over the motley crew. They had come looking for a dear friend of hers, and she was not so willing to just give up information about her, no matter how infatuated her latest conquest was.

Even if he was so very pretty.

"Simple circus folk", Kurt said politely, "know more than anyone about local affairs. I spent 25 years in the circus, Melisande, so I should know."

"Is that true?" Melisande asked with an arch of her eyebrow, her gaze sweeping critically over the dark blue mutant. "I am not so sure I believe you about this. Someone like you, surely I would have met you before."

"I would be very surprised if you have not at least heard of me", he agreed. "I did have a certain fame in my days as the Incredible Nightcrawler. I even performed with the Munich Circus at one time."

"Did you now?" She didn't sound particularly impressed, even though she had heard of him before. She'd heard plenty about him before, even now they still talked about the Incredible Nightcrawler. "If it's true, which I am not so sure it is, what are you doing with them?" She jerked her chin towards the others in Kurt's group, looking at them suspiciously.

"They are friends of mine, and Monet is my woman", he told her, drawing her aside a little in the hope that Monet wouldn't overhear that and kill him on the spot. "I met them after my retirement from the stage, and they are good people, Melisande, even if they are outsiders to the likes of you and me. None of us mean to harm the woman we seek."

~'Your woman?' Seriously, Kurt? Seriously? We're having a little...chat when we get back to the hotel, Monet sent, glaring slightly but there was amusement colouring her thoughts.

He didn't glance at her, not wanting to give away the telepathy - or, honestly, look like he might not be in control of the group in front of Melisande - but he did send apologetically ~I did not mean it. It is the way she would understand it best.~

~Whatever, gorgeous. You keep telling yourself that, okay? I'll ignore the biker fantasies.~ Monet smiled sweetly and let the link drop.

"Retirement?" Melisande laughed a little, and some of the others floating about echoed her laughter. "We do not simply retire, sir. I do not believe you could possibly be who you claim to be."

"I no longer perform in public", Kurt clarified calmly, not rising to the laughter. "If you would like me to prove I am indeed the Nightcrawler, I would be happy to."

Melisande waved her hand in a dramatic flourish, finishing with an indication to the entrance to the big top where they performed their shows.

"This should be entertaining."

"Melisande, my dear", he told her with a flash of a fanged grin as he started towards the entrance "you have never seen my act or you would not use that word. I do not do entertaining. Entertaining is for clowns. I do breathtaking."

* * * * *

Melisande had not been prepared to be impressed. Sure, the Incredible Nightcrawler had had something of a reputation, once upon a time. But crowds were easier to please, once upon a time, and mutants a rarity.

But she had been proven quite wrong. Not that she was entirely prepared to admit it, arms folded across her chest as the applause died down, and Kurt moved to rejoin the group.

"So you have a little familiarity with the trapeze," she said nonchalantly, with a little shrug. It was about as far as she was willing to admit that she had been wrong.

Kurt laughed, accepting it for what it was. "Just a little. And so now you know who I am."

"So I do," she conceded with an incline of her head. "But as for your request..." Her eyes trailed over to look at Warren. "Your pretty friend there, he does not seem so enamoured." She shrugged. "On edge, I believe the saying is." She'd been told Warren was looking for her friend after falling head over heels for the woman he'd spent the night with, but he looked like no man in love Melisande had ever seen.

"Warren?" Kurt shrugged expressively. "Warren can be a little... intense. But if she tells him she wants no more to do with him, I promise you, that will be the end of it."

"If you say so," Melisande replied with another critical look in Warren's direction. "I'm afraid I can not be of much help, Signore Nightcrawler. The last time we saw the lady in question, she expressed a desire getting..." She paused, looking over to one of the other circus performers. "What was it that she said? High on life?"

He just laughed. "I'm not sure it was life she was planning to get high on, bella."

"Well, there you have it," Melisande said with a shrug. "That is what we know. Hopefully your friend will find what he is looking for, and the trail does not go up in smoke." With one last smile, Melisande swept away, leaving Kurt and his friends standing in the middle of the circus ring, the group starting to disperse.

"That was not particularly helpful," Warren grumbled, glaring straight at Troy.

"What? I told you what I heard. Not my fault these guys can't manage to talk straight."

"She likes to get high on life. Seriously? That's about as useful as 'she likes coffee'. Only, you know, even less helpful. Why don't you have useful contacts?" Monet muttered.

Tabitha kept her eyes moving, observing the people around them. "Maybe we should find a way to stick around, listen. They might have more going on than we can see."

"I don't think they're going to tell us anything more," Warren murmured. "Kurt, you know this crowd. Is it likely there's more they'd tell us, or do we need to work out this riddle they've presented us with ourselves?"

"I suspect we have all we are going to get", Kurt confirmed, glancing over at Melisande. "Perhaps if I was alone and had more time, but even that I would not like to guarantee."

"So she wants to get high - possibly on life, possibly on something else." Warren paused, a little frown on his face. "And the trail may go up in smoke." He looked to the group. "So where in Europe is the best place to get high?"

Monet frowned. "That place, thingie. With the canals and the clogs. You know the one."

"Of course." Warren snapped his fingers. "I can't believe I didn't think of it myself."