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xp_logsAt Emma's prompting, Kevin reveals the full truth about Mary Walker and their shared history.
“Something on your mind, Emma?” Kevin said, pouring himself a coffee as the rest of X-Force walked out the door. The blonde woman hadn’t moved from her chair, giving him a pointed look from her seat.
Emma tapped a diamond fingernail lightly on the table in front of her. “You know I have a great deal of respect for your skills at your craft, Mr Sydney,” she said. “And, the majority of the time, your judgement of how much your colleagues need to know in any given situation.”
"But this is where you finish the sentence with this situation is not one of them?"
“How about we go with the fact that I may have concerns that you haven’t fully set out your level of involvement in this case? In a way that may or, I accept, may not impinge on what we need to know.” Emma leaned back in her chair, tilting her head as she contemplated Kevin. “You are truly excellent at concealing your thoughts on any number of matters. But I am Emma Frost. And, despite the state of your brain at the time I did it, I did live through an important part of your past inside your own memories. It makes me think that this part of your past might not be as... workmanlike, as you have suggested.”
"Well fuck." Kevin reached into his pocket and upended a significant slug of alcohol in his pocket. He paused and looked at her. "OK, if you think you know, tell me. What am I hiding? I'm going going to sit on tenterhooks worried you know everything in my head."
“I know I have an interesting reputation, Kevin,” said Emma, wryly. “But I also have a surprisingly robust set of ethical boundaries. I don’t dip into minds just because and you weren’t broadcasting. But you do have a certain - feeling - when you’re concealing something. Or talking your way around it. Particularly when it’s personal.” She gave Kevin a long look and then reached back and into the small storage cupboards that lined the meeting room and pulled out two tumblers, then snaffled a bottle of cognac from the cupboard. “So my assumption would be, particularly based on the rules around intra-office fraternization at the relevant time, that your relationship with this Mary was deeper than the purely professional.” She filled both glasses with a generous dash of spirit and slid one towards Kevin.
"Well. Fuck. Again." He took the glass and unlike himself, just looked into it for a moment. "When Mary disappeared, we'd been in a relationship for over five years. All hidden, of course. Oddly, the CIA has some pretty strict rules about dating co-workers. Especially co-workers that you end up in the chain of command with eventually."
Emma contemplated him for a moment, then took a sip of her cognac. “And do you think that may have some effect on the case? Would Mary be likely to come after you? As a safe haven or an enemy? How might it affect the risk rating for your colleagues?”
"I have to assume Mary figured me for dead decades ago when the CIA took me out. Am I friend or foe? That's... more complicated." He sighed and took a sip. "When Mary disappeared, after three months, the Agency was ready to declare her MIA. I falsified intel to suggest she was alive and keep resources in the field looking for her. Eventually, some people were starting to ask the right questions about the intel when she turned up. Suspicions were there but since she was alive and recovered, the whole thing was dropped. But, in order to make it work, I had to create distance. For appearances. I would have explained it to her, but she disappeared five days before I was supposed to."
Emma nodded, tilted her head in thought. “Which to me, would indicate that she wouldn’t have the fondest feelings about you. I certainly wouldn’t, in those circumstances. But then, I’m not known for my personal warmth,” she said and smiled at Kevin, her effortless charm belying her words. “But you’re the expert in these matters. What’s your assessment of the risk? And, more importantly, does keeping this information from your colleagues - again - increase the risk to them?”
"No. It doesn't impact the mission. At least, I don't think so. I've been dead for decades and she never tried to contact me when I was alive." Kevin took a long sip from his drink. "I just- I've loved two women completely in my life. And I failed them both. It might be selfish but I'd rather not open up those wounds in public."
Emma considered Kevin carefully. “We all have wounds we’d rather not open up for the crows to pick at. Even friendly crows.” She took a long drink of her cognac, lowering the volume in the glass appreciably. “Will you accept that I am going to be extremely disappointed in you if I end up having to scrape your brains off the carpet again? Or any other part of your excitingly malleable anatomy?”
"I can't promise that putting a bullet into me won't be Mary's first reaction. But I'll take steps to try and avoid it. She needs Sugar Man for some reason. I'm hoping that whatever the reason is will be more important than dealing out some punishment to her ex."
Emma sighed deeply. “Very disappointed,” she said. “Extremely, very disappointed in you, Kevin, if I have to scrape your brains together and put them in a jar. Just so you know. But... I trust you. And I trust that you will always try and make sure Mary doesn’t cause damage to those of your team members that can’t regrow their appendages. Because, honestly, health care costs in this country are ludicrous and I’d prefer not to have to provide some hospital administrator with another BMW because you made poor choices. Now, are you going to help me make a dent in this cognac?”
"Exactly how I like to start off any plan." He said, shaking his head as she topped up both glasses. "Why do I get the feeling you've missed having co-workers with similar tastes?"
Emma laughed. “I’m fairly certain I could persuade more than one of them to join me in indulging in very expensive cognac and some of them may even appreciate it. But you really appreciate it, Mr Sydney.” She shrugged a little. “It’s nice to have someone who understands why sometimes a little self-indulgence in the finer things in life is necessary.”
“Something on your mind, Emma?” Kevin said, pouring himself a coffee as the rest of X-Force walked out the door. The blonde woman hadn’t moved from her chair, giving him a pointed look from her seat.
Emma tapped a diamond fingernail lightly on the table in front of her. “You know I have a great deal of respect for your skills at your craft, Mr Sydney,” she said. “And, the majority of the time, your judgement of how much your colleagues need to know in any given situation.”
"But this is where you finish the sentence with this situation is not one of them?"
“How about we go with the fact that I may have concerns that you haven’t fully set out your level of involvement in this case? In a way that may or, I accept, may not impinge on what we need to know.” Emma leaned back in her chair, tilting her head as she contemplated Kevin. “You are truly excellent at concealing your thoughts on any number of matters. But I am Emma Frost. And, despite the state of your brain at the time I did it, I did live through an important part of your past inside your own memories. It makes me think that this part of your past might not be as... workmanlike, as you have suggested.”
"Well fuck." Kevin reached into his pocket and upended a significant slug of alcohol in his pocket. He paused and looked at her. "OK, if you think you know, tell me. What am I hiding? I'm going going to sit on tenterhooks worried you know everything in my head."
“I know I have an interesting reputation, Kevin,” said Emma, wryly. “But I also have a surprisingly robust set of ethical boundaries. I don’t dip into minds just because and you weren’t broadcasting. But you do have a certain - feeling - when you’re concealing something. Or talking your way around it. Particularly when it’s personal.” She gave Kevin a long look and then reached back and into the small storage cupboards that lined the meeting room and pulled out two tumblers, then snaffled a bottle of cognac from the cupboard. “So my assumption would be, particularly based on the rules around intra-office fraternization at the relevant time, that your relationship with this Mary was deeper than the purely professional.” She filled both glasses with a generous dash of spirit and slid one towards Kevin.
"Well. Fuck. Again." He took the glass and unlike himself, just looked into it for a moment. "When Mary disappeared, we'd been in a relationship for over five years. All hidden, of course. Oddly, the CIA has some pretty strict rules about dating co-workers. Especially co-workers that you end up in the chain of command with eventually."
Emma contemplated him for a moment, then took a sip of her cognac. “And do you think that may have some effect on the case? Would Mary be likely to come after you? As a safe haven or an enemy? How might it affect the risk rating for your colleagues?”
"I have to assume Mary figured me for dead decades ago when the CIA took me out. Am I friend or foe? That's... more complicated." He sighed and took a sip. "When Mary disappeared, after three months, the Agency was ready to declare her MIA. I falsified intel to suggest she was alive and keep resources in the field looking for her. Eventually, some people were starting to ask the right questions about the intel when she turned up. Suspicions were there but since she was alive and recovered, the whole thing was dropped. But, in order to make it work, I had to create distance. For appearances. I would have explained it to her, but she disappeared five days before I was supposed to."
Emma nodded, tilted her head in thought. “Which to me, would indicate that she wouldn’t have the fondest feelings about you. I certainly wouldn’t, in those circumstances. But then, I’m not known for my personal warmth,” she said and smiled at Kevin, her effortless charm belying her words. “But you’re the expert in these matters. What’s your assessment of the risk? And, more importantly, does keeping this information from your colleagues - again - increase the risk to them?”
"No. It doesn't impact the mission. At least, I don't think so. I've been dead for decades and she never tried to contact me when I was alive." Kevin took a long sip from his drink. "I just- I've loved two women completely in my life. And I failed them both. It might be selfish but I'd rather not open up those wounds in public."
Emma considered Kevin carefully. “We all have wounds we’d rather not open up for the crows to pick at. Even friendly crows.” She took a long drink of her cognac, lowering the volume in the glass appreciably. “Will you accept that I am going to be extremely disappointed in you if I end up having to scrape your brains off the carpet again? Or any other part of your excitingly malleable anatomy?”
"I can't promise that putting a bullet into me won't be Mary's first reaction. But I'll take steps to try and avoid it. She needs Sugar Man for some reason. I'm hoping that whatever the reason is will be more important than dealing out some punishment to her ex."
Emma sighed deeply. “Very disappointed,” she said. “Extremely, very disappointed in you, Kevin, if I have to scrape your brains together and put them in a jar. Just so you know. But... I trust you. And I trust that you will always try and make sure Mary doesn’t cause damage to those of your team members that can’t regrow their appendages. Because, honestly, health care costs in this country are ludicrous and I’d prefer not to have to provide some hospital administrator with another BMW because you made poor choices. Now, are you going to help me make a dent in this cognac?”
"Exactly how I like to start off any plan." He said, shaking his head as she topped up both glasses. "Why do I get the feeling you've missed having co-workers with similar tastes?"
Emma laughed. “I’m fairly certain I could persuade more than one of them to join me in indulging in very expensive cognac and some of them may even appreciate it. But you really appreciate it, Mr Sydney.” She shrugged a little. “It’s nice to have someone who understands why sometimes a little self-indulgence in the finer things in life is necessary.”
