In the Plaza de Amour, nestled between a sex shop and a shoe boutique,
there was a coffee shop. Not offering the bizarre combinations to its
customers that could be found in every other Starbucks, this particular
coffee shop was smaller, quieter, and more intimate.
That's the way she liked it.
A girl seemingly on the brink of womanhood sat alone at a table, patiently sipping vanilla espresso. Bright green eyes scanned the area, she didn't want to miss him. Sitting out there in the sunshine, enjoying the breeze behind her jet black sunglasses made her feel good. Sexy and powerful. She felt like a huntress, and she watched as her prey strode from one corner to the next across the street.
She had been watching him for months. Every day, he would come around the corner of Lennox, walk up the block and turn onto Buckingham. He would be gone, returning the next day to do the same. He was like clockwork, as predictable as the sunrise.
She left a tip on the table and grabbed her backpack. The young man she had been so steadily observing had come around the corner of Lennox at the top of the block, and had almost passed the coffee shop across the street.
She glanced at her reflection in a store window and ran a hand through her strawberry-blonde locks, attempting to establish some kind of order. She quickly crossed the street and was now walking about twenty feet behind him.
He was wearing a denim jacket over his t-shirt, and corduroy pants. He had this cool, almost odd look to him. He was casual, but elegant, he looked sort of rebellious, but collected at the same time.
The girl was transfixed, made even more nervous now that she was so close, but determined to get what she wanted. The boys at high school were easy to charm, but approaching a stranger on the street was a whole different ball game. He could be a psycho, for all she knew.
Her oblivious quarry turned the corner, and she got fed up with her own timidness, and ran to catch up, screwing up her nerve to talk to this guy.
"Excuse me, excuse me, hi!" she called after him.
He stopped and turned to her, looking at her face to face for the first time.
"Can I help you?"
She smiled and walked closer, letting him look her up and down as she had done to him. A breeze blew the hair out of her face and she felt her confidence return full force.
"Oh no, I'm fine. Just wondering something, though." This part would be corny, and there was a huge chance he'd just laugh at her and go on his way, but it had worked well enough in the drill...
"Yeah?" he asked.
"Well, let me start off by saying that my name is Brianna. I've seen you walk by the coffee shop almost every day, and I know you've seen me, so why haven't you stopped by to say hello?"
There was silence for a long stretch, but then he moved forward and put out his hand. She shook it.
"Hello, Brianna. I'm John."
*^*^*^*^*^*^*
Eric and Mystique were great, no one who had lived with them for as long as John had could ever deny that. They provided everything he needed, gave him respect and attention-best of all, they didn't treat him like some tagalong kindergartener.
But as much as he liked them, he found himself to be becoming restless. Not that he was ungrateful or anything, but he often felt the need to distance himself from his saviors and mentors.
He would spend hours doing who knew what in the city, then come back home and realize that he had spent the whole day searching for something, but he didn't know what it was.
He was lonely, and it was making him miserable.
It was during one of these as yet fruitless searches that he was approached by a girl. And what a girl she was; bright green eyes, pale smooth skin, strawberry blonde hair.
She was pretty and looked about his age, and as they spent the rest of the day together, John felt his restlessness fade.
He had found what he was looking for.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*
"This was a great day, you want to hang out tomorrow?" Brianna asked John as they neared her apartment building.
'She wants to hang out again tomorrow? Great!' were his first thoughts, and he smiled.
"Yeah, sure. What time?"
"I was thinking maybe at about eight or so, is that good with you?"
'Yes!'
"That's perfect, I'll see you then."
Brianna and John parted ways on the street with a wave, and she went into the building. The halls were dingy, and the floorboards creaked so loud she could rarely get any sleep, but it didn't matter anymore. After tomorrow, her task would be over, and she'd be long gone.
She set down her backpack and made a call. Her voice made a dramatic shift from the carefree lightheartedness of a teenager and instantly became harsher, more commanding.
"It's him. Be ready tomorrow night around 8:30."
She hung up and flopped down on the couch, her hard eyes sweeping over the file reports spread across the coffee table. Several images were taken from the late Stryker's database, of the mutants and machines hidden at Xavier's.
In the center, three photos were arranged. Two of Magneto, one while he was attacking the NYPD outside of a train station, the other taken during his short stay in the custom designed prison.
The third photo was of Xavier's missing student, John Allerdyce.
So. John had taken to roaming the streets of New York when he wasn't attacking police officers.
Well, that would change in less than 24 hours.
That's the way she liked it.
A girl seemingly on the brink of womanhood sat alone at a table, patiently sipping vanilla espresso. Bright green eyes scanned the area, she didn't want to miss him. Sitting out there in the sunshine, enjoying the breeze behind her jet black sunglasses made her feel good. Sexy and powerful. She felt like a huntress, and she watched as her prey strode from one corner to the next across the street.
She had been watching him for months. Every day, he would come around the corner of Lennox, walk up the block and turn onto Buckingham. He would be gone, returning the next day to do the same. He was like clockwork, as predictable as the sunrise.
She left a tip on the table and grabbed her backpack. The young man she had been so steadily observing had come around the corner of Lennox at the top of the block, and had almost passed the coffee shop across the street.
She glanced at her reflection in a store window and ran a hand through her strawberry-blonde locks, attempting to establish some kind of order. She quickly crossed the street and was now walking about twenty feet behind him.
He was wearing a denim jacket over his t-shirt, and corduroy pants. He had this cool, almost odd look to him. He was casual, but elegant, he looked sort of rebellious, but collected at the same time.
The girl was transfixed, made even more nervous now that she was so close, but determined to get what she wanted. The boys at high school were easy to charm, but approaching a stranger on the street was a whole different ball game. He could be a psycho, for all she knew.
Her oblivious quarry turned the corner, and she got fed up with her own timidness, and ran to catch up, screwing up her nerve to talk to this guy.
"Excuse me, excuse me, hi!" she called after him.
He stopped and turned to her, looking at her face to face for the first time.
"Can I help you?"
She smiled and walked closer, letting him look her up and down as she had done to him. A breeze blew the hair out of her face and she felt her confidence return full force.
"Oh no, I'm fine. Just wondering something, though." This part would be corny, and there was a huge chance he'd just laugh at her and go on his way, but it had worked well enough in the drill...
"Yeah?" he asked.
"Well, let me start off by saying that my name is Brianna. I've seen you walk by the coffee shop almost every day, and I know you've seen me, so why haven't you stopped by to say hello?"
There was silence for a long stretch, but then he moved forward and put out his hand. She shook it.
"Hello, Brianna. I'm John."
*^*^*^*^*^*^*
Eric and Mystique were great, no one who had lived with them for as long as John had could ever deny that. They provided everything he needed, gave him respect and attention-best of all, they didn't treat him like some tagalong kindergartener.
But as much as he liked them, he found himself to be becoming restless. Not that he was ungrateful or anything, but he often felt the need to distance himself from his saviors and mentors.
He would spend hours doing who knew what in the city, then come back home and realize that he had spent the whole day searching for something, but he didn't know what it was.
He was lonely, and it was making him miserable.
It was during one of these as yet fruitless searches that he was approached by a girl. And what a girl she was; bright green eyes, pale smooth skin, strawberry blonde hair.
She was pretty and looked about his age, and as they spent the rest of the day together, John felt his restlessness fade.
He had found what he was looking for.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*
"This was a great day, you want to hang out tomorrow?" Brianna asked John as they neared her apartment building.
'She wants to hang out again tomorrow? Great!' were his first thoughts, and he smiled.
"Yeah, sure. What time?"
"I was thinking maybe at about eight or so, is that good with you?"
'Yes!'
"That's perfect, I'll see you then."
Brianna and John parted ways on the street with a wave, and she went into the building. The halls were dingy, and the floorboards creaked so loud she could rarely get any sleep, but it didn't matter anymore. After tomorrow, her task would be over, and she'd be long gone.
She set down her backpack and made a call. Her voice made a dramatic shift from the carefree lightheartedness of a teenager and instantly became harsher, more commanding.
"It's him. Be ready tomorrow night around 8:30."
She hung up and flopped down on the couch, her hard eyes sweeping over the file reports spread across the coffee table. Several images were taken from the late Stryker's database, of the mutants and machines hidden at Xavier's.
In the center, three photos were arranged. Two of Magneto, one while he was attacking the NYPD outside of a train station, the other taken during his short stay in the custom designed prison.
The third photo was of Xavier's missing student, John Allerdyce.
So. John had taken to roaming the streets of New York when he wasn't attacking police officers.
Well, that would change in less than 24 hours.