It's Greek to Me: The Handoff

[x-hawkeye.livejournal.com]

Kitty's conscience gets the better of her and, instead of handing the item she acquired off to her former employer, she returns it to its rightful owner.


It was a beautiful, sunny day.

The lake, for once on an afternoon this summer, was silent as a half naked man emerged from water in all of his glory. He had a pair of pants and a shirt, in theory, near the lakehouse, but he showed no signs of making the resolution to his nudity a priority.

Namor did, however, retrieve a water bottle from his belongings and used it to wash what film from the lake he could -- clear water swept over rippling muscles and the entire situation was so staged it might as well have been a protein shake commercial. He shook off the water, like some sort of hunting dog at rest, and sighed contentedly.

What he did not do -- and this was a matter of pride, mostly -- was pause to acknowledge the sound of the approaching stranger who threatened to interrupt his moment of peace. This was just like how he has been ignoring the beeping of the phone the mansion had assigned him "for convenient communication." They could wait.

Kitty sighed as she saw the droplets of water bead up on Namor's perfect skin. Sheesh, does anything this guy does not read like a romance novel cover? Something about the man made her feel awkward--like she had just been transported back to standing by the wall of a middle school gym, staring at her feet and hoping no one noticed her.

It was pretty clear Namor didn't intend to.

She cleared her throat, balancing a large box on her hip, then said, "Got a present for you."

As if the universe wanted to answer Kitty's question definitively, when Namor deigned to turn toward Kitty he was perfectly silhouetted by the sun and its reflection off the lake and as a slight breeze picked up. He, however, quickly ruined this with the glare of confusion on his face -- like there was a battle playing out behind his eyes on whether he was more upset at being interrupted or more curious about a gift.

"My most humble and sincere thanks, Kate of Science." He did not move, and his tone was colored with a clear "you may continue."

"Pryde, actually," she corrected. "It's Kate Pryde."

Glancing down at the box, the woman set it down at his feet. She wasn't quite sure the object would hold any meaning for Namor and she silently chastised herself. You should have finished the job you were paid to do.

"Go on," she nudged the box lightly with her foot. Trying to wipe the worry from her face, she added in a falsely cheerful voice. "Aren'tcha gonna open it?"

Namor looked from the box, back to Kitty, and then back to the box. His next gesture was small, but telling: he raised a single eyebrow and gave Kitty the flattest look possible in anticipation. There were things kings did not do.

"Uh, if you're waiting for me to feed you grapes and fan you or something, you're going to be waiting a long time," Kitty slid a hand on her hip. "Go on."

"Let it be known," and the sigh that accompanied these words was an entire dramatic production by itself, "That the unfolding years have only bred out proper respect from the human race."

Namor eyed the box. "Very well, Prideful Kate. I accept your gift."

As he bent over and opened the box, however, his entitlement practically melted into a look of confusion that then quickly blossomed into skepticism. There were several looks exchanged between the box and Kitty before the Once King spoke.

Or, that is, tried to.

Namor looked again down at the box, too full of questions, but also too full of his own pride to continue.

"I don't know what it is. I was told that it came from Atlantis but..." Kate hesitated. She couldn't read the expression on Namor's face. It's probably a fake. It's probably something that someone tried to pawn off on Rue that's really old but not like that. I knew it was a weird thing for her to take.

She held out a hand. "I was supposed to give it to somebody else. So if you don't want it, I'll do as I was told."

This display prompted Namor to action, but he did not bother to refute Kitty's words. Instead, he knelt and ripped the box open to reveal the item inside: a bronze contraption only slightly larger than a breadbox. It looked absolutely ancient, but in much better repair than it should have been -- little corrosion damage all around and the clockwork pieces looked like they still may even be able to turn given sufficient inertia. The real eyecatcher, however, was the disc-like mechanism at the piece's center: a cog with four radial supports.

The beauty of it could of really mattered less to Namor, though, as he searched it skeptically before stopping. He shot a glare to Kitty and put a finger to his mouth to shush her.

Her hand dropped.

Whatever this is, it's important, Kitty thought. But is it real?

She gave him a moment more with the object and his silence before she spoke again. "I'll leave that with you then. It's better kept that way." The woman hesitated, taking a few faltering steps back, not certain whether or not to consider herself dismissed.

"Wait." This wasn't a request. It was a command.

Namor did not elaborate further, but his attention was still firmly fixed on a mechanism. He spoke a few words, solemnly -- certainly not a spell, but not in English either -- and lightly touch the middle of artifact's cogwheel ring.

The thing began to glow with the same runes Kitty had examined upon the Trident of Neptune. The silence of the lake was broken by the sudden grinding of old metal, and the feeling of building power in the air. All of this, unfortunately, was cut off after a intense seconds in which the machine went right back to the way it was before.

She watched as the runes lit up, her breath catching in the back of her throat as she watched the machine die. It was a cold, lifeless thing again--looking like nothing more but a hunk of metal in Namor's hands.

"What happened?" she asked.

"It stopped."

After a beat, Namor more helpfully supplied, "Heirs are not expected to know how pedestrian machinery works. Why would I know this."

Kitty repressed a sigh. "Well... do you know what it does?" If he thinks this is pedestrian, what else do they have down there?

Namor shrugged — when did he learn to shrug? — and made a dismissive gesture toward the bronze device. "This is an everyday item. Common. Like your microwaves or cars. It needs an engineer or mechanic. Not a King."

"So should we get one?" Kitty wasn't sure whether she was the best one to have this conversation.

"That... would be well advised. Unfortunately I only know of one of those available." He said this like he was picking out the the best maggot from a rotting corpse.