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Same Changes; Psylocke
Topic Started: Jul 11 2011, 04:05 AM (416 Views)
Cypher
Unregistered

June 15 2011

-Morning-

Braddock Industries

On most any given day Manhattan was a mess of people and traffic, fighting, pushing; making their way through the urban sprawl that was the majestic hub. Navigating in and out of that mess had become as much work too Doug Ramsey as his actual work had, but somehow the young linguist had figured out enough tricks of the trade to get him in and out of the city and back to West Salem sometimes even with some time to spare. His boss Betsy Braddock had always been generous in allowing him such allotments, and had on more then one occasion even suggested the convenience of taking up residence in the city, thus keeping him closer to the office and sparing him the daily commute. With Betsy's good word almost any apartment complex in the city would give him residence at a good rate, he didn't doubt, but he had liked staying at the Institute. Staying at Xaviers and traveling to the city had allowed Doug the ability to still feel connected to both worlds and while his duty's to both employers often at times threatened to split him in two, he had managed to juggle both and never feel worse for the wear. He had been lucky in that. Having met Betsy Braddock the way that he had, the powerful telepathic CEO understood his duty to the X-men as well as he own personal drive to be successful in his own right. Most employers probably would not have treated him so, but Doug doubted that most bosses were as exceptional in all the ways that mattered like Elizabeth Braddock was.

When his personal world of long harbored feelings and relationships had exploded around him in revelations and wounded pride, fleeing to Betsy had been his first instinct. The telepath was the only major figure in his life who was not tied to the mansion and by proxy to Kitty Pryde. As he had grabbed his things and bolted for the door he had a long lingering thought of giving her a call and asking her if she could use her influence to secure him one of the mentioned apartments that had come up during his tenure with her company, but such an action felt in some way a cheapening of their relationship. Betsy had been good to him, perhaps even better than he had deserved, and he felt in debt enough to her to again ask for another favor. Too much of his life seemed tied up in the hands of other people, even of those that had been kind and giving. So instead of to Betsy he headed to his parent's house in Hartford as that was the only other home he knew of to go to. There had appeared a bitter irony in it somehow. He was a wounded little bird flying back to the nest he had been so eager to fly out of.

He had only stayed at his parent's home for a few days before he had left it again setting out on the open road to find himself anywhere and everywhere free of anyone who knew him. He had turned his cell phone off and had only logged into his email enough to send off a small message to those at the school telling him that he was okay and that he would be away for an extended duration. He wrote nothing to Kitty, afraid that even impression of her voice over an email would be enough to break all his resolve and send him running back to lick his wounds at her side.

It had been only with Betsy that he had kept any substantial touch with and even that had been sporadic, but he had felt he owed it too her to let her know that he was well and okay. Perhaps it was the fact that she was a telepath and thus keeping any secrets was a moot point but Doug had always managed to have a refreshing candor with the purple haired white queen. He had found it easy to speak with the woman who most likely knew everything about him anyway and he had enjoyed that openness, it had been the first time in his life he had ever been able to be in someone's company and not worry about keeping at least one secret secret. He had kept most of his messages direct and to the point; small descriptions of where he was, people he had met, sights he had seen. Over the course of time he had opened up a bit more allowing drifts and drabs of the hurt he was feeling pour out in between the lines of his words. It was during those messages that Doug realized something that he was missing most on his journey, a friend.

Now he was back and as nervous as he had been the first day he had walked through Braddock Industries doors to implore it's CEO to give him a job. The city was still surprisingly dead coming so close after the fourth of July holiday where almost all of Manhattan climbed aboard the jitney headed for the Hamptons to escape the heat pouring down from the sun and up from the asphalt. He saw a few familiar faces as he made the same commute he had every day when he had been an employee of Braddock industries. He did not drive into town, he never drove into town, instead he opted for the train and then splurged on the money for a cab to Braddock Industries. What happened in here today would effect how he traveled back. If he still had a job then he might wave down another taxi again, if he was joining the ranks of the unemployed he'd be taking the bus.

He smiled politely at the security and staff at the door and those he crossed by on the immediate path to Betsy's office. A few stopped to talk to him, remark how it was nice to see him back, how well he looked, how rested.

Just how exhausted a mess was I before, he wondered after the third person who had told him he looked so well rested excused themselves back to work. A sudden though hit him as he boarded the elevator that would take him to the floor where Betsy's office was and he laughed, loud enough to catch the eyes of the people around him.

They all think I was in some sort of rehab. he thought rolling his eyes,only in New York

He exited the elevator still laughing some to himself. She would know he was here by now, he knew, not much if anything escaped the scope of her telepathic radar. Walking into her office he fought the urge to just run up to her and hug her. Employees did not greet their bosses that way he knew, to do so was strictly and utterly unprofessional, but he saw Betsy as some weird hybrid of both, both friend and executive superior.

I do make the strangest relationships. he thought still smiling as he waved to the glorious woman who had given him his first real shot to be something other than the X-men's resident translator and Kitty Pryde's Duckie Dale.

I wonder if she knows thinks I let her down. Did I mess even this up too much to come back?

"Apparently according to the stiletto gossips I apparently went Lindsay Lohan, Who'd have thought? Me, an addict. I wonder what drug I over did it on? I mean honestly too much Starbucks and I'm as antsy as a meth addict at a cough medicine counter. I hope it was something trendy, like cocaine, if I'm going to have a rumored drug problem I'd rather it be something at least kind of high end. Knowing me though they're probably saying it was Flintstone's vitamins."

He shrugged and smiled at Betsy.

"So is this the part where I get on my knees and grovel for your forgiveness and my job back or do we just stick with the formalities of hello. I do want to preface all of this by saying I can grovel in several different languages and even in a couple interpretive dances if that helps."
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Betsy Braddock
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Strong summer sunshine filtered through the long windows of her office that afforded pleasant views of the city. It was only morning, but it was already quite warm and so she was dressed rather casually in a loose linen shirt and long skirt. There were no meetings to be had that day, so there was no need to be highly professional and in any case, she would be leaving the office early. A sharp pang of worry twisted through her stomach as she thought about making the trip across the city, but her destination was a safe one and there were no stops that she would have to make along the way. Taking a sip of the water on her desk, Betsy rolled her shoulders and returned to her paperwork, tapping the end of the pen in time to the music that was softly playing on the stereo on the sideboard behind her. It was mean, but in a way she was glad she no longer shared her office with Brian; he couldn’t tease her about her tastes or vie for an unfair share of background entertainment time or who got more biscuits when they had tea.

As she turned over a page, a sudden familiar thought pattern emerged into the edges of her awareness and she sat up, a slight frown tracing over her delicate features as she pushed out with her telepathy and sure enough, only a few minutes later a familiar blonde figure was stepping out of the lift. Smiling, Betsy allowed the pen to drop from her hand and stood up, smoothing out her long skirt and stepping around the desk. Folding her arms as she leant against the wood, the telepath gave Doug a mock glare with her eyes but the smile did not leave her lips.

“Well, we all knew what you were like with those sneaky coffee trips, Doug. Tongues wag…Although there was also the rumour you’d inhaled too much correction fluid…” unable to keep up the scowl any longer, she relaxed her face and stance, walking across the office to pull him into a light embrace before stepping away, her hands on his shoulders as she stood at arms length from him.

“It’s good to have you back. Did you find what you were looking for?” While he had been gone she had received messages from him, but having been…detained…herself for much of that time, Betsy was ashamed to say she had not given him as much attention as he might deserve. Tsking as he spoke of grovelling, the White Queen waved a hand and turned, heading back to her desk and pressing a button. “Tea, please Erica, for two.”

Erica was a recent, Hellfire approved addition to her personal office. While she still retained all her old staff, there was one or two new faces there to do more than file papers and compile reports. It irked her that it was necessary, but with no word from London…

“Don’t be silly, Doug. Of course you have a job here. After all, what would I do without you?” she teased lightly and walked over to the low couches that sprawled under the windows of her office, proudly bearing cushions printed with the Union Jack and a postage stamp showing the Queen’s head. Settling down, she plumped one of the cushions on the other end of the couch in invitation. “Come on, settle down. I’m not about to berate you…But I would like to know a little more about why, so this doesn’t have to happen again, hmm?”
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Cypher
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With so many people he felt awkward, unsure of his words and movements, as though he needed to give each action, thought and word the utmost care as to not reveal his hand and show just how much of a tender heart or inexperienced person he actually was. With Betsy Braddock he never felt like that. Sure there had been moments early on when the weight of her perfection seemed to impose on him and force him into his usual stumbling and fumbling ways, but over time as he had grown more accustomed to her kindness and for lack of a better term ordinariness, Doug had realized that with Betsy he could be himself faults and all. Maybe it was the reality that due to her mutation she knew him inside and out so all efforts to be anything he wasn't were out of the question or maybe it had just been her constant kindness chased with the reality of a brilliant savvy businesswoman who took bank from no one that had allowed him the ease of comfort of just being himself but the young linguist did feel a kinship with the powerful telepath. He trusted her in the way that only someone who had intervened to help save a life could. It was a strange sort of bond, a bond of blood and war, thought and language, that seemed to tie him a bit to her. Wherever life would take him, no matter how far or close he went he would always be indebted to Betsy Braddock and ownerships like that one did not easily forget.

She joined him in easy banter making lite of his jokes about addiction and gossip and he knew his return was not only allowed it was welcome. Would his friends be as forgiving he wondered or did those wounds run deeper than this? She sent for tea, her new messenger a dangerously pretty girl who seemed more fashionable than secretary but he knew better than to ask. The lines of Hellfire and it's assembly were none of his affair and he valued her trust to much to dare pry. Plus while there was no outright animosity between the X-men and Hellfire there Doug doubted both groups would be joining each other for Christmas festivities. She motioned to the couch and he followed her in taking a seat. Explaining himself was something he knew was coming but it didn't make the task any easier.

"Oh lord I don't know where to begin, but it's all in here." He said taping his index finger to the right temple of his head. That she asked him to tell her and didn't just rely on her telepathy to get the truth from him endeared him to her more. It was a sign of both control and mutual respect.

"Things just got to be too much, you know. Not here, not this but everything else. The X-men, the world, wanting things that don't want me or more accurately wanting someone who didn't want me. I guess I thought getting my heart broken would be more tragic more like something out of a Bronte novel but in reality it's more painful and obtuse then that because you still have to go on. I just felt indescribably alone suddenly I just needed to be anywhere that wasn't here or well not here here but you know. So I pulled a Kerouac minus the Mexican prostitutes and bouts of dysentery but still it was just me out there on the road seeing America and well, a bit over rated actually, but I learned a lot about myself about things but mostly I realized that I didn't need to look outside myself to be happy. Some things have to change but that change has to start here, with me and now I sound like a PSA. But I can say this, for all I saw and all I missed you stayed on my mind more than most. You've been a good friend Betsy and I needed that still do I guess."

He gave her a small sweet smile and his face flushed just a little.

"Okay enough about me and my silly trials and tribulations what about you? I heard a lot about New York on NPR while I was away this new mayor, and all the stuff he is saying about mutants. It's some scary stuff not that you can't hold your own but you're so high profile if he comes gunning for anyone that isn't the X-men are you worried it might be you?"
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Betsy Braddock
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The telepath listened with a sympathetic ear as Doug spoke about how everything had gotten too much and he just needed to get away from it all. Betsy could sympathise with that, as could many people who led the complicated sorts of lives that X-men and Hellfire alike did, but something about it also troubled her. From what the young man said, he had learnt a lot and grown as a person which could only be a good thing as she knew, maybe better than anyone, that deep down he had confidence issues, not least when it came to being an X-man. But still…

“So, are you staying put now after your grand adventure?” she asked, pausing for a moment as the tea was brought into them. Sometimes the telepath wondered if she might be a little bit of a tea addict. Probably.

Patting his hand as he thanked her again, she shrugged her shoulders lightly. “Well that’s what friends are for, or so the old chestnut goes. But are you definitely staying?” Betsy asked again carefully. “It’s good to have some time to yourself and get your head straight but running away isn’t always the best thing to do. Sometimes you take it all with you, if only mentally.”

Despite her words, Betsy had faith that Doug was sensible. Well, to a point anyway…When it came back to Kitty Pryde, his sensibilities likely went out of the window like leaves on the wind and she was not sure he would change on that any time soon. Love was hardly rational for anyone, no matter how smart or how rich. He had been in brief contact while he was gone, but considering how she had been…indisposed…it would not have mattered if he had been calling her daily. Maybe if she hadn’t been then she could have been more help for him, Betsy mused to herself, although she knew that Doug had needed the time to himself to figure it out for himself as much as having a rest. He was a young man and capable of standing on his own two feet, no matter how strong an urge she felt to help him.

When he asked how things had been with her, Betsy busied herself with her teacup and a biscuit, nibbling the edge of it and flicking a chocolately crumb from her lap. Although she had told the X-men about her detainment in London and so had no problems telling ‘Cypher’ as ‘Psylocke’ about what had happened, talking to Doug as Betsy within her office was another matter. She also didn’t want to concern him more than necessary as she knew he would only panic about what had happened.

“Oh, you know me Doug. I keep busy,” lowering her cup she gave him a grin. It was pained, however, as he happened to bring up the new, lovely Mayor of the city and… “I often have that concern for my people, but our identities are very much secret and likely to stay that way. Of course I’m worried and everything…”

Stopping, she stared into her cup and chewed her lip. Did she want to tell him and concern him more than he already obviously was? The White Queen did not know and if anything, that indecisiveness worried her more than anything currently in the conversation.
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Cypher
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He wondered some times if he could have handled things better or if his lot in life was to always make the mess and then be left with it.

My intentions have always been good but isn't that how the worst calamities happen?

If he had been more honest with everyone about how he had felt, especially with Kitty maybe he could have spared himself some of the heartache and fallout but then he wouldn't have really been Doug Ramsey. Doug Ramsey the guy who never met a long way around a problem he didn't like, the guy who could speak any language and more times then not felt he never had the right words. understanding came easy to Doug it was all the stuff he had to do with that understanding that presented the problem. Still he was working to remedy that now; salvage the relationships he could, re-earn some of the trust lost, reinvent himself sort of like a pop star coming out of rehab only minus the blatant addictions and dependencies of course. In any event he was glad to have Braddock Industries to come back to, it would be healthy to throw himself back into his work and free his mind from chasing the same thoughts round and round like Marmaduke after his tail.

"I'm here to stay." he told her and again he smiled at the concern in her voice. Most employers, especially ones in such high positions like Betsy Braddock were gave little to no care for the people below them who busted their asses to keep them rich, but Betsy was different. She treated him in a way that was almost familial, and in some ways he guessed they sort of were, the time that they had spent together working as well as the shared secrets between them had bonded them in a way precious to Doug. He cared for Betsy in a way that ran deeper then a paycheck and good resume potential.

"Getting away was nice. It helped put things in perspective but mostly it just reminded me of how truly lucky I already was. Good friends, good mentors, a great job, a person shouldn't run from things like that no matter how much you think you love someone and how much it hurts to lose them. I mean love you get over in two months, big love you get over in two years and great love it kind of changes your life so now I have to move past all that great love stuff and go out and find the person that I'll love second best."

Catching her eyes again he blushed some.

"Sorry I read a lot of Seventeen while I was gone. I now have great perspective on unrequited love and on how to control menstrual related acne outbreaks but perhaps those are pointers for another day. Hey, how about I treat you to lunch. We can even go fancy this time, no hotdogs for us. I say we go full on middle class, all the way to the Red Lobster. I swear to you the biscuits there are breath taking. There is no one of-woman-born who does not like Red Lobster biscuits. Anyone who claims otherwise is a liar and a Socialist."

He gave her another knowing smile on that spoke of underlining humor between them and that was when he noticed her body language. Being a reader of all things entitled him to certain tells and while the depth of information he was able to gain from body language translation was in no way as great as what she could do with her telepathy Doug was still able to gleam from Betsy that something was wrong. The reality of that thought was almost enough to floor him before he learned the source of what was behind it. Something bothering Betsy Braddock, the woman who looked fear in the face and spat in his eye, she was like her own Xena, only more high fashion and no lesbian undertones. If something was bothering her it had to be pretty troubling in deed. Instantly all humor left his voice and he launched into protective mode. He knew how much he owed Betsy, more than his very life, his very sanity, if something out there was a threat to her then it was his job to protect her because you did that for family.

"Okay I may not have the advantages of that telepathy of yours but I have some abilities of my own and right now my spider sense is going off the alarm telling me something is bothering you and if something is bothering you then it's my bother too. So spill. Is someone harassing you? Is it those Harry Christeners again cause I am not afraid to break out the the Wolverine taught Tae Kwon Doe on them. Granted I only took two lessons before he made me cry but two lessons with him is like pure ninja concentrate so it equates to about ten from anyone else and if all else fails I think I have a bottle of pepper spray some where. Seriously though what is it? There is nothing you can't tell me. I owe you my very voice, any enemy you have is one of mine too so just point the way and I'll kick their asses."
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Betsy Braddock
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“Good,” Betsy smiled across at Doug and leaned over to give his shoulder a gentle squeeze, letting her hand fall back after a moment of contact. She had a lot of employees and while she was attentive as she could be to them, or at the very least those who worked in close quarters with her, things were different with Cypher. She had not saved any of her other staff from being trapped, lacking the power of language, deep within the Void. It had been a nightmarish struggle in that place, but even though she was not the traditional ‘good guy’, she could never have left him and the telepath was still glad that she had not.

As he spoke of love, she couldn’t help but give an inward chuckle. The young man was a hopeless romantic, evidently. Still, if it was how he saw the world and how he coped with life, then there was no real harm in it. Not wanting to offend his feelings, Betsy couldn’t help but break into a small laugh as he blushed. Clearing her throat, she set him with a serious look. “Now, don’t get too caught up putting labels on things. She was your first love, wasn’t she? Until you find someone else to love, you have nothing to compare it to. Patience,” she winked and reached for her cup.

Seventeen? Advice on…casting Doug a sidelong glance, Psylocke did have to wonder if the lad was not actually…No. Sipping her tea, she shook her purple head gently. That really was better left for another day and she hoped that he would not start divulging his newfound knowledge as she was quite old enough to know how to deal with a few spots…The thought counted though, so she smiled again and gave his hair an affectionate ruffle.

Things seemed to be going smoothly, when Cypher proved himself to be more intuitive than Betsy remembered – or perhaps it was a part of the new Doug. Either way, he could tell that something was not quite right. Breathing in, Betsy leant forward and replaced her cup on the neat coffee table and then sat back, focusing her attention on it as she collected the words. Her hands folded together in her lap carefully and she returned her gaze to him. What had happened was not exactly a secret to the X-men, although she doubted that Cyclops had told everyone.

“There was some…trouble. I was detained for a while. Imprisoned might be more accurate, when I was in London. Now don’t start panicking. I’m fine. Just…things are complicated right now, as you can probably appreciate,” Betsy paused for a moment. “And while your treats of ass kicking means a lot, well things aren’t that easy…” Her office was not the place to go into gory detail, even though she knew it was secure and there were members of the Club now installed around the place. Doug’s offer of lunch was still unanswered and so she retreated to the relative safety of it. “As for lunch, I’ve got to be somewhere this afternoon, else I would. How about next week, eh?”
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Cypher
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He squirmed a little uneasily in his seat. Imprisonment, threats, he didn't like the sound of any of that one bit. Betsy was a powerhouse and any force that could lock her in was not something he wanted to come across even if at the same time he wanted to royally kick it in the bollocks for attempting to try and hurt her. instinctively he wanted to ask her more, press her for details; names, dates, images, perhaps missing limbs of one armed men, anything and everything he could learn so he knew what to be on the lookout for. Nowhere in his job description did the listings read out anything about being a body guard but Doug felt it was his duty. He worked with her daily, sometimes closer then most people got, if someone made it past all the other securities in place he might just be her last line of defense and he'd kebab himself on a hit man's sword before he's let anyone lay a hand on her.

Still he knew enough about Betsy, and about the female gender, to know that when a woman didn't want to be pressed on a subject it did little good to try. She'd tell him what she wanted him to know and in time if she decided to take him more into her confidences then he's knew he'd be the better for it. For the moment though he would let the subject drop though it would leave a nagging feeling in his stomach.

"Next week will be awesome. Whenevers clever, but I want to meet with some of the security team. I know you trust your guys and I trust them too, but I've got enough of an X-man in me to know it never hurts to check things a few more times. I'll run their names through the school's database, if they've got so much as a jaywalking ticket I'll know. I know there is a thin line in being safe and being a self made prisoner but I really want you to be careful. I don't even want to think about anything happening to you. It's getting crazy out there and our anonymity is the best thing a lot of us have going for us but you don't have that luxury. You're a superstar, Betsy, the whackos are going to come after you like flies to sugar. I wish you wouldn't take any chances or even let me have a few of the X-men maybe come by and check in once in a while. Screw the whole crossing party lines crap, if something is after you then it's after us all. Have you told any of your family about this? What about your brother, Brian? He's a big bruiser of a guy. I doubt anyone could get to you past him. Things are going ass backward bonkers out there and I don't want you to be a causality of any of it. I can handle the crazy, hell, I can handle the hurt, but I can't handle anyone hurting anybody I care about and that includes you. So point me to somebody I can yell out because whatever they are doing it's not good enough."
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Betsy Braddock
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Betsy narrowed her eyes slightly as Doug launched into asking her for names, if she had told her family, calling her a superstar and she moved back a little on the couch as she waited for him to finish. His concern was sweet and she was truly touched by it all, but he was also presuming a lot as well. Allowing him to fall silent after he had asked for someone to yell at, the telepath raised an eyebrow.

“Well. First I am not about to give you any names, as while I value your friendship and am flattered by your concern, this is Hellfire business. Rivalry has existed between the branches ever since the second opened, a very, very long time ago. I’m not trying to excuse what happened to me but…” Betsy trailed off, wondering if it would do her any good to tell him how she had beaten the Black Queen senseless and set fire to the old mansion that the London branch had taken such pride in. Possibly not the best way to go about things…

“I know I’m a target. I’ve been a target for a very long time. When I was younger than you I was working as a psi agent for STRIKE,” she continued, a little more gently. “My identity as a mutant is still secret and while times are like this I intend to keep things that way – you don’t need to tell me how dangerous the world is, Doug. I’ve been there, many a time now.”

It was harder to deal with the talk of family and inwardly sighing, she reached forward for her teacup and drank before settling back on the couch. “Brian is my only family. He has his own responsibilities to be taking care of as well, he can’t just drop everything to come and play guard dog for me; he knows this and I know this. We’d prefer it if we could just watch each others backs constantly, but life doesn’t work like that Doug. Things aren’t so simple. I wish they were, but they’re not.”

Feeling a little guilty at rejecting much of his help, Betsy leaned over and squeezed his wrist gently. “I know you mean well and at times it might not seem it, but I’m happy with the life I have chosen, despite the risks. You might not think of Hellfire as being supportive or close, like your own people, but in our own way we are. What could members of the X-men do for me in practical terms that a member of my own people could not? I have friends amongst you, that’s true, but that is all they are – friends. Believe me, your offers are sweet and I appreciate them but I don’t need an X-man to play guard dog on me. I’m sorry.”
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Cypher
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Sometimes he knew there was a lot he didn't understand. Maybe the world was going crazy and the crazy was spilling over and maybe all that crazy was pushing him into paranoia territory. He didn't need to protect Betsy Braddock and even if he did he'd probably do a poor job of it. Here was a woman who could more than amply hold her own and it was quite clear he was encroaching on things he was meant to know nothing about. It stung a little, that divide. Doug saw people as people, not party lines, not factions, seldom even in the lines of good and evil. You had those you agreed with and those you didn't, but he never really thought that there were people who dd evil for evils sake, just those who followed the wrong sort of compass. More then once he had been accused of being naive and he supposed that they were right, but most optimists were naive they pretty much had to be. If they dealt only in facts then they would be cynics. She was his friend, she was in danger, the equation added up that she needed to be helped but life was never as simple as the equations he could make up in his mind. There were other factors that he never had considered, the right of privacy, the choice to not be forced into something because of outside forces, the possible nefarious and even unnefarious reachings of Hellfire. This was not his world, none of it. He saw things through a smaller prism, but this was bigger then all that. The Hellfire club would protect their own, just like the X-men would protect theirs. Wagons were being circled and it was time to dot the i's and cross the t's and be mindful of exactly who he was and where he stood.

"I think you're undervaluing the term friends. You could hire a thousand guards, pay them top dollar but they're still only a bunch of sell swords. Give me a few loyal friends any day. I've seen how mercenaries work, efficent, yeah, but I'd crawl across broken glass and smile while doing if it could help just for one second any of the people I love. The only thing I know about fire is it burns, and it'll burn it's master just as gladly as it's enemy. The X-men may not go out looking for a fight but don't think that we can't. I'll take one X-man over twenty Hellfire any day because when I look those guys in the eye I know what matters to them. I can see their souls, and it has nothing to do with money, or power, or anything like that, it's about the right thing, the just thing. That's what Scott Summers taught me, and Jean Grey, and Kurt Wagner, and Ororo Munroe that's what I'll die believing and they'll never be guard dogs, or mercenaries, they'll always be X-men. They'll always be the best."

He stood up quickly, not wanting to argue with her and knowing he could no more explain his point to her then she could get him to understand hers. This was where they would always be different, neither right nor wrong, just different.

"I should get back to work. If you need me you'll know where I am."

He started for her office door but then stopped and turned back to face her.

"You didn't have to apologize but you can't expect me to either. I'm not a kid anymore, I stopped being one a long time ago. Sure maybe I don't jump out of airplanes or hold rifles or wear a lot of black, but don't tell me that there is nothing I can do when someone I know is in trouble. My offer is on the table if you ever need it, not that you will, but it'll be there, and don't overlook your friends, Betsy, cause when everything else is going down sometimes our friends are the only thing any of us have going for us."
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Betsy Braddock
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Telepathy (I'm not a bloody ninja)
Psylocke had been trying to reassure Doug, to tell him she was alright and that he did not need to concern himself with her on top of no doubt everything else that was happening in his life and indeed the world. They both travelled difficult paths for different reasons and after everything, perhaps because of that, Betsy was very disappointed by the sermon that escaped the young linguist.

He meant well. His heart was in the right place. But how dare he come into her office that she had worked so hard for and say such things that amounted to judging her. Even if he did not make any personal comments, he passed sentence over her by slandering her people so. Her eyes were icy fire as she rose to her feet, arms folded across her chest as she stared the young man down, waiting for his words to come to an end.

“Have you finished?” she asked, her words freezing cold with the deep anger behind them. “Then you may leave. Do not dare to presume you may just excuse yourself to your desk after such a speech. This is my company, my family’s company and legacy. We have been members of the Hellfire Club since its earliest days and if it was good enough for my parents, then it is good enough for me. I might not be able to make best friends with many of their number or have a little sleepover or watch films with them, but together we are strong and we do not allow anyone who harms one of our number to get away with such a crime.”

Barely pausing, she continued to stare him down. “I would never challenge the ability of your fellows. I have fought beside many of you, several times, but I am not about to drag any of you into matters that do not concern you for my personal benefit. Why should I? Why should I insult the members of Hellfire by asking for outside help, to do what they are already doing for me? Saying that you can offer better, just because you feel you take the right path. Morally that might be the case, but things are not black and white Doug, they are not so clear cut and if you were not a kid then you would understand that. Hellfire has its place and purpose in the world, just as much as you X-men do, even if you don’t like that. If we were friends, then you would accept that without casting judgement.”

Taking a few steps closer to him, the White Queen regarded him in a moment of silence as sharp as broken glass, before leaving him with one last remark. “And if you think of Hellfire as guard dogs and mercenaries, then what does that make me?”

Turning her back on him, she simply returned to her desk, took a seat and resumed her paperwork and hoped that he didn’t say anything else. If he did, then she might have to telepathically blast the stuffing out of him.
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