Phoenix Under Attack!

[hulksmashed.livejournal.com]

That's the headline people are trying to avoid.

The Hulk doesn't care. His gait brings him ever closer to the populated city, and so far, nothing seems to stop it.

There's hope that the sandstorm that just kicked up might buy them more time. A sandstorm that's the doing of Crusader, the new girl carrying Thor's hammer and Captain America's shield, who's crazy enough to try to face the Hulk without the help of her team, who have been held up by dealing with some other U.S. agent.

The storm doesn't stop him. It only slows him.

Slightly.

Comments

[house-of-mystiq.livejournal.com]

"Go away before I punch through your chest and staple a grenade to your spine just to watch your head explode."

[bub-snikt.livejournal.com]

That gets a smirk out of the stoicism.

"Ya know me well enough to know I don't scare easy. I'm here tryin' ta get rid of a big green thing that wants to kill cities. What's your angle, Raven? This ain't your usual scene."

[house-of-mystiq.livejournal.com]

Oh, God. It talks. The last one was all animal, barely more than instinct. This one wants to reason with her.

Don't. Just walk away.

"There's fifty fifty odds killing the Jolly Green Giant will nuke the whole planet. If I'm wrong, well, Phoenix is full of 'sapes anyway. If I'm right, I'd rather not spend the next hundred years with nothing but cockroaches for company."

Shit.

[bub-snikt.livejournal.com]

A squint of one eye.

"You mind explainin' just how the hell that makes any flamin' sense?"

[house-of-mystiq.livejournal.com]

She crosses her arms.

"Yup."

[bub-snikt.livejournal.com]

"Then there's no way I'm listenin' to anything you got to say."

There's a small sniff.

"You smell different."

[house-of-mystiq.livejournal.com]

You don't. You smell familiar. You smell like sweaty afternoons spent after an assignment, waiting for the Hellicarier to pick them up.

She forces an indifferent shrug. "Yes, yes. I forgot. I'm a terrorist. Noted unreliable source of information. I'm also supposed to be dead." She smiles slightly, and lets herself stroke the back of her fingers over one stubbly cheek. "Good information is so hard to find."

[bub-snikt.livejournal.com]

Somethin' entirely weird about this.

But he doesn't recoil from the touch.

And the claws withdraw back into his hand.

Her eyes are sayin' things her lips ain't.

"Sounds about right."

[house-of-mystiq.livejournal.com]

"Does it?" Her voice is lower than she intended. Damn.

Put your hands back down at your sides, Raven. Do not, under any circumstances, move a milimeter closer.

You have no business sliding a thumb along his knuckles, feeling the skin heal after his claws retract. You don't know this man. Don't let his looks fool you.

Plus, his dress sense is terrible. Just look at that hat. What's he trying to do with those side fins? Make his head more aerodynamic? It makes her want to take it off him out of sheer embarassment. Really. That's the only reason why.

[bub-snikt.livejournal.com]

All these people he's never seen before - and he's seen a lot of the super-jokers.

A few things come together in his mind. He lets her keep that touch goin', to see if she'll betray any of the information she's not givin' him outright.

"Truth be told, never thought you much of a terrorist."

[house-of-mystiq.livejournal.com]

Her hand lingers on his, the backs of her fingers sliding comfortably between his knuckles, right where the blades emerge.

"Freedom Fighter?" she suggests. It's what they always call themselves.

It could be worse. At least her local counterpart isn't the Vampire Queen of Austria-Hungary.

[bub-snikt.livejournal.com]

"That's what these Avenger jokers call themselves. Ain't never been accurate."

Finally, he pulls the mask off himself. Still studying her responses.

"You ain't from around here."

[house-of-mystiq.livejournal.com]

Walk away, Raven. No good can come of this. Put your hand back down at your side and walk away.

Now.

She cups his cheek. A small, sane part of her mind shifts all her vital organs down into her lower extremities. She lets herself step closer. It's a cruel illusion. She'll hate herself for it later, but right here, right now, she's too hungry for him to look away.

"No," she says softly. "I'm not from here, and I don't know you."

[bub-snikt.livejournal.com]

Good. It's not a case of splotchy memory, then.

"Talk to me, then. Gimme a reason to trust you."

The loud battle behind them fades away for a bit.

"The hell's all this about?"

Fingers touch her hip, gently.

[house-of-mystiq.livejournal.com]

He's just doing his job; milking her for information, giving her what she wants in exchange. She knows it. He knows it.

"I wasn't lying earlier. We're dimension travellers, sent here to keep your reality from imploding. Our instructions are often vague. This time, all we were told was 'protect the killer.'"

The hand on his cheek slides down to his neck. Her thumb strokes the line of his jaw. She pulls away for a second, then sighs and rests her free hand on his chest.

What the hell. He's letting her do it. He could just walk away, too. Any second now, he will. Might as well take advantage of it while she can.

[bub-snikt.livejournal.com]

He's also committing her scent to memory. Might need to track her down later.

"Sounds like a bum deal - save the world by solvin' flamin' riddles."

He pulls her just a bit closer.

"'Specially with the sheer amount of killers you gotta sift through here."

Imploding reality.

It's always somethin'.

[house-of-mystiq.livejournal.com]

"I'm keeping a close eye on the killer I know best." The hand on his chest slides over a rip. Her fingers slip under the torn brown fabric, twirling loosely in his mat of chest hair.

"Our Spider-Man thinks we're here to protect the Hulk. I have my doubts." She sighs. "None of us like the riddles, but our own realities are being kept hostage based on our good behavior."

The Timebroker phrased it differently, but that's what it boils down to for her. She misses home. She wouldn't be standing next to this man if she didn't.

[bub-snikt.livejournal.com]

He glances down to his chest, then smirks to her.

"I'm guessin', back where yer from, you an' me are somethin' ta see, huh?"

[house-of-mystiq.livejournal.com]

She returns the smirk. "Only by people with very strong stomachs or exotic taste in porn."

[bub-snikt.livejournal.com]

"I never much liked vanilla."

He brushes a bit of hair out of her face. Smells like the truth, much as this woman could always lie.

"I ain't with these Avenger jokers. I'm workin' with the Hulkbusters - not a hell of a lot better, but they care less about that jackass Walker and more about stoppin' the green train. I'll go have a chat with 'em, see if we can't stop this before we get to the implodin' part."

A finger along her jawline. Really damn weird.

"I'll track ya down if I get any info ya might need."

[house-of-mystiq.livejournal.com]

"Track me down anyway."

She closes her eyes briefly. There's something painful in the familiarity of that touch.

"Especially if it looks like the world's about to implode."

She buries a hand in his hair. In for a penny, in for a pound. Her lips meet his.

[bub-snikt.livejournal.com]

He's kissed stranger people than this.

If it helps secure an alliance... and if it helps a girl in a jam...

But damn. He never would have thought Mystique capable of the amount of emotion he's getting from her lips right now.

Rarely can somethin' this good be faked.