Scott and Pete have a conversation

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

[Apologies for the delay in getting this up. It took place some time last week, the day of but before Betsy's post to x_logs.]

(The Bar: Pete picked Lafittes in New Orleans because it's dark (there's no electric lighting at all) and they have an entertainingly dreadful lounge pianist who makes it very hard to overhear any conversations. And it's about the least tacky bar in the French quarter.)

Scott arrived at the bar disheveled and dirty, a new look for the leader of the X-Men. Pete could tell that half of it was some disguise, but the rest of it was just plain mess. Exhaustion showed in the set of his mouth and the thinness of his cheeks. Any bags under his eyes were hidden by the glasses he wore.

Making his way to the dark table at the back, where Pete sat waiting, his head moved back and forth slightly as he was scoping out the rest of the patrons. "Hey," he said by way of greeting, his voice low and slightly hoarse. He motioned to the waitress and ordered a double scotch, neat.

"Have you heard of anything Magneto might be planning?"

"Do what?" Pete said, visibly startled. Recovering himself, he added "Not a lot. The shitehawk seems to have gone to ground, for the most part. Last I knew, the lads back home were pretty confident he was hiding somewhere in the Adirondacks. Mineral deposits in the hills make tracking his energy signature through there a complete bastard."

Pete leant into the table for a minute, lighting a cigarette from the candle on the table.

"Why? What's going on?"

"That's the real trick then, isn't it?" He gulped the scotch at first, downing half of the glass. Then began taking slow, measured sips as he spoke. "My mission was to meet up with someone inside Magneto's camp. Someone we hadn't met yet. And from what I've heard Allerdyce has been up to, it sounds like they're separate from him. Like Magneto hasn't told Allerdyce about them, keeping them in reserve or something. I don't know."

Scott ran his hand through his hair and rubbed at his forehead over his glasses.

"They couldn't be specific, of course." Sarcasm dripped from his tone, heavy and acidic. "But they've told me that he's planning a test. For Allerdyce. And the contact said that they didn't expect him to live through it. Not that it's a total set-up...just that test was difficult enough for someone who...well, you know him."

"Ah, hell. Allerdyce isn't going to thank you for this, you know. It's going to fuck his image right up, if you have to charge in and rescue him."

Pete sipped his bourbon, ice rattling in the glass, and winced as the pianist in the corner began murdering another classic.

"Haven't heard much, but I've been out of the loop the last couple of weeks. I'll check in when I get back, and drop you a line with anything new that my lot have heard, but Magneto was moving down on their priority, list last I heard, so don't get your hopes up." He took a long drag on his cigarette.

"OK, so who needs to know what, back at school?"

"I can't imagine that Pyro would be pleased with anything I do. If he wants to live, then he will have to deal. If he doesn't, then there isn't much more I can do for him anyway." Scott's voice was hard. "If he wants to be a martyr to Magneto's cause..." He stopped, and sipped a bit more scotch before continuing. "No, we can't let him. Whether John wants it or not, we can't let Magneto have that kind of power."

He looked over at Pete, considering. Not the man, but what to say. Who to tell. "Tell Ororo. I've told her to be prepared with a team, but she doesn't know why. Charles, if you can pry him out to listen. Hank, if he's around. He might be able to hack some systems and find out more."

"Right. I'll let them figure out what to tell the kids." Pete smiled, ruefully. "Assuming one of the little bastards doesn't figure it out anyway."

The smile disappeared from his face as he leant back in his chair.

"What're the odds that this is a set-up? Bit bleeding convenient, getting a tip off about the one thing that'll get the lot of you to drop everything and go running, isn't it?"

"It's always a possibility. Great way for Magneto to make us look very bad, again. But I don't think so. Something about the tone..." Scott smirked. "But if that's the case, then Charles sent the wrong person to make us all jump up and run to rescue little Johnny." He downed the rest of his drink in one swallow, and motioned for another. "Frankly, Pete, I couldn't give a shit about him. He had a chance...a choice. He made the wrong one. I am not looking forward to having him back at the school. So, I've been doing as much research on this as I can. And everything has led me to believe that it's not a trap."

Pete raised an eyebrow.

"Looks to me like Charlie sent exactly the right guy, then." He downed the rest of his drink.

"Listen, I hate to run off, but I've got to get up at an absurd hour tomorrow - I've been tailing a guy at a conference here, and he's due to be off tomorrow, and I want to make sure he leaves town when he's supposed to, so I've got to follow him to the airport, and naturally the fucker's on an early flight. I'll make some calls, and see if I find anything out. I should be back at the school tomorrow night, so I'll make sure everyone that needs it gets filled in."

He stubbed his cigarette out, and stood.

"Best of luck."

"Thanks. And you too." Scott offered his hand, then stayed behind, nursing the rest of his scotch.