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Mutants & Masterminds: The Magisterium - [1.1] Wedding Bells [Mature]

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May 7, 2012, 9:45 p.m.

Ronald Reagan Building and International Trade Center

April Wolcott and Scott Harrison were getting married. It was a gala affair that was the buzz of the Washington D.C. social circuit. April Wolcott was the daughter of the British Ambassador to the United States, Marcella Wolcott. Scott Harrison was the son of U.S. Senator Richard Harrison, a hardcore warhawk Republican from Florida.

The social and political implications of the evening were a minefield. The Democratic President, Jonathan Henshall, needed Harrison’s support for a Medical and tax bill that had been a key point of his campaign. Harrison’s support for this sort of thing was grudging at best, but the promise that Henshall would protect Harrison’s pet weapons project in exchange for support made this alliance a possibility. For now, Henshall had to play nice and attend the wedding and reception.

The International Trade Center, or ITC for short, was the site of the wedding and reception. The lavish wedding was to be held in the Atrium; its 125 foot tall skylight, marble and granite floor and bold columns created the perfect place for a wedding of power and prestige. The reception would be held in the Atrium Hall, while there would be dancing in the Ballroom. The guest list numbered in the hundreds; anyone who was anyone in the U.S. Capital had been invited – and would probably come.

The riff-raff were not invited, and it was here that Mirage, Rebekka and May found themselves. They were clothed appropriately for their roles – Mirage and Rebekka were in the most fashionable dresses Mary could create. May was dressed nicely as well, but she was going to work the crowds outside – and provide a distraction should it be needed.

It was a trial by fire-

Yesterday...']May 6, 2012


David grinned at the two women who had entered the room. May was already there, lounging in her ‘base’ form, a woman with black hair and green-blue eyes. While similar to Raven’s image, this woman appeared to be far more innocent and younger than Raven had been. “Sorona, Rebekka, thanks for coming.”

“Tyrone hinted that you had plans for us. Something about… the President?” Rebekka asked this with a coy tone, but David didn’t seem to take it personally.

The powerful mutant’s smile didn’t change as he waved the two women to a seat. “I do have plans. We need, more than anything else, information. Specifically, military codes for satellites. If we have those codes, we can use the United States’ satellites to monitor the DEHA.” David smiled thinly. “Sorona, I’d like you to help Rebekka determine who she needs to sleep with to get those codes. Rebekka, I think you understand by now what we need from you. May’s faces are known to DEHA until she develops another, so she’ll have to remain outside for now. She’ll be there in case things go wrong.”

“There’s one more catch.” May didn’t act like it was a problem as she said, “We don’t have invitations to the wedding reception. It’s the only place to have this kind of public access to the people in the highest positions of power but we don’t have the pull to get you into the party. You’ll have to find your own way in.”

-but somehow, it seemed more fun this way.

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There was a soft bite to the night air in Washington DC, Rebekka snugging the silver-grey, crocheted shawl around her slender shoulders as she basked in the presence of the crowd milling outside the limestone immensity of the Ronald Reagan Building. Light spilling from the tall windows dappled the night with shadows and made the dark marble of the Oscar Straus Memorial glow.

To someone to whom isolation was deadly, being locked in a seven-by-seven-by-seven foot room was torturous, the freedom of a remote Mayan ruin a relief, if the number of people residing there still low for her preference. She craved proximity to people - any of whom she could have with the crook of a finger, the arch of a brow, or the curve of her lips - as much for their experiences as for the sheer joy of (and need for) sex.

She had graciously accepted going on the mission David had offered, was eager even. She had done much the same many times for the South African government over fifty years, she was used to penetrating any number of parties and social functions in the pursuit of certain individuals. There were any number of ways to bypass a secured setting, and the human component was inevitably the weakest link. Waving at someone inside, who would wave back, not wanting to admit their ignorance, trailing in after a large group, or simply picking up a date with an invitation at the door. Hardly a difficult proposition for a pair of women as strikingly beautiful at Rebekka and Sonora.

Rebekka had crafter her initial appearance for the night with the same eye an artist reserved for a masterpiece. What men fantasized about wasn't the same thing as they would willingly approach and engage with. She made herself into a slender, brown-eyed brunette of average height, her sex-appeal smoldering beneath a playful intelligence rather than blatant and overwhelming, the smart-looking glasses adding to the disguise. She looked like a professional or graduate student in her mid-twenties going out for a night of glitz and glamour.

She wore a lavender, silk chiffon cocktail dress, with a pair of matching, four-inch pumps. It had taken a while for Mary to make the clothing and accessories to her satisfaction, aiding in large part by her using her own shifting abilities to alter them to want to she wanted, then Mary copying it. Somewhat awkward, but it got the job done.

Current Appearance
5'4'', slender; chestnut hair in an updo; chocolate-brown eyes, intelligent and mischievous facial features.


Sonora had altered her hair colour to a similar brown hue with her illusions, and was wearing a little black dress with simple lines, easily altered purely by more illusory colours for other looks if needed. They currently looked enough alike to pass as sisters if needed, but Rebekka had a number of other appearances in mind, as circumstances dictated.

Rebekka looked around, picking out security personnel - uniformed and plainsclothes - amusing herself by determining which women in the crowd were admirers and groupies of the influential and politically powerful and which were prostitutes or escorts hoping for deep pockets. Considering how some of them dressed for a high society gala, it was difficult even for her to make the distinction. Her eyes lit up at seeing two men getting out a car at the valet station.

The car was a Prius, the men good-looking and fit in their late twenties, with good suits that weren't ostentatiously expensive, and artfully mussed hair. They held themselves with assurance of those who have been involved in politics for some time, yet not too seriously and shared an easy camaraderie that said they had been friends for at least as long. Perfect.

"Be ready and follow my lead, Aline," Rebekka murmured in fluid French, using Sonora fake name for the night (unless she needed another). She nodded at May over a shoulder, her eyes cutting towards the men. "I see our invitations coming this way."

Timing it perfect, Rebekka raised a sleek arm and waved at the men just as they turned and saw the pair of stunning women. Her expression conveyed impatient relief, followed by vexed disappointment. She flashed them a ruefully apologetic smile then turned to talk idly with Sonora, both of them not incidentally presenting their elegantly curvaceous profiles for full view.

Rebekka cast out the line and the men bit onto the hook like she knew they would.

"Good evening, ladies," the taller blond said with the hint of a Southern twang. "We couldn't help but notice two such striking beauties beckoning us. Surely you are not here all by your lonesome?"

"Non, non, we are waiting for our dates," Rebekka said with light amusement, a faint French accent colouring her tone with (supposedly) unintentional allure. Her frowned slightly, crossing her arms beneath her breasts. "Waiting some time, in truth, and they are not answering their phones. We are thinking you are they, at first, and they are the ones with the invitations."

"Well, I can say in all seriousness, we wish we were you boyfriends. They are very fortunate men."

Rebekka shared a smile with Sonora then gave the men a coy grin, a slim finger pressed to her lips musingly. "We are not saying they are our boyfriends. They are our dates, and I am thinking, they are not, any longer for keeping us waiting so." She sighed theatrically, then arched a brow at them questioningly, lips pouting into a playful moue of irritation. "Now, we are all dressed up et tout, and with nowhere to go. Quel dommage."

The men shared a look, then the blond's mouth spread into a boyish grin, his shorter, stockier friend's grey eyes twinkling. "Well is just so happens we do have invitations to the gala event of the year - they are only grudgingly letting us attend - and a sad lack of such well-dressed accompaniment. How about we help each other out of our respectively predicaments?" The blond hand out a strong, long-fingered hand. "I'm Raymond Kellogg, Mademoiselle...?"

It was the women's turn to share a glance, then Rebekka smiled and took his hand. "Bien sur! I am Désirée Dubeau, Pleased to meet you, Raymond."

"Enchanté," he said, bending over and brushing his lips across the back of her hand. "I assure you, the pleasure is all mine." Jesus H. Christ! Her touch! her voice! her scent! This woman is better than Viagra and she's not even doing anything or seeming to try! "And call me Ray, everyone does."

Sonora and the other man, black-haired with a solid, squarish build, repeated the greeting, the man identifying himself as Jeff Quinto and Sonora claiming her name as Aline Levesque. They took their time strolling towards the main doors, getting to know each other a bit more.

"So, Désirée, what do you girls do for a living?" Ray asked with not entirely idle curiosity. He had just met the woman and already found her extremely engaging.

"We both are working at the French Embassy. Aline works in the Ambassador's office, I am an IT technical specialist." She smirked wryly. "Resetting passwords, keeping the computer systems running and secured. Monitoring Facebook and Twitter usage, that sort of thing."

Ray's brows shot up in surprise, mouth dropping open before he could stop it. "You're a techie nerd? I mean, that is a surprise. I was think you would be a model. Or in public relations."

Rebekka chuckled, almost giggled at the expression on his face. "What? Us nerds and geeks, we are liking to sling on our fancy shoes for a night of glitz and glamour too. Do not worry about it - this is a common experience for me. If it helps, I have minor degrees in political science and economics as well. What of you?"

"We work in the House of Representatives."

It was Rebekka's turn to raise her brows in surprise, feigned though that surprise was. "You are Congressmen?"

"No," Jeff admitted just as Ray said, "Not yet. We work under the Clerk of the United States House of Representatives, keeping Congress running, such as it does. We met when we were Congressional pages together..."

The group continued trading small talk, barely pausing when the men handed their invitations to the Doorman, who noted their names in his ledger, and security took a professional, but cursory look through the women's purses. Then they were waved through, though all the men took a second - and third - look at the stunning beauties.

Their heels clicked sharply on the marble and granite floor at they entered the Atrium, the skylights soaring above them. Rebekka grinned, seeing the feast of influence and secrets set out before her. The men were dressed in dark suits, the women - political partners, trophy wives, escorts, and other - dressed in fashionable gowns - half black, half in various pastel shades. They mingled, waiting for the wedding to start. Rebekka's eyes lingered for a moment on the President - backed by a pair of secret service men, and Senator Harrison, wondering what they chances were of her getting them with so little preparation.

Rebekka had originally intended for her and Sonora to ditch their invitations after the ceremony, but began to reevaluate the idea upon seeing the Ray and Jeff seemed to have acquaintances in both parties, partly a legacy of their time as pages. I picked a pair of good ones, she mused, giving Ray a covert glance. She might not have the opportunity to sleep with him, but she could probably manage a grateful act of exquisite fellatio - if she took her sweet time, she could probably take all of him in.

"Shall we circulate some, before the ceremony commences, Ray?" Rebekka suggested. She would focus on the one she and Ray were talking to, subtly working in what they needed to know in conversation and looking for reactions, while Sonora did the same with those listening in, using her empathy.

"Of course," Ray said. He wouldn't pass up the chance with a woman so beautiful, so witty and intelligent on his arm. "This way. Good evening Congressman..."

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Before they departed from the jungle hideout, Sonora needed to have a few words with Rebekka since they would be working together, and she smiled slightly at the other woman... the impossibly beautiful woman actually. "Just thought I would clear up a few things between us, since we're going to be working together, likely fairly often, both of us are very capable in matters involving spies and agents, it's what we were trained for.. willingly and not so willingly. If you have a plan, I'm willing to follow your lead.. though it likely wouldn't hurt to know the limits of each other's capabilities."

She paused. "That level of arousal is constant with you, isn't it?" at the nod from the other mutant she reached out and touched Rebekka's hand, her empathic senses quite well aware of the other mutant's emotional status, and decided what the other woman needed was a friend, and the touch became a hug. "We are going to be friends, good friends... now, down to business.."

The two of them had spent a bit of time discussing capabilities and how the two of them could work together, complete with Rebekka's attempts to seduce her, which Sonora had only resisted for a little while.. and the nature of their discussion had changed to something different.

***** ***** ***** ***** *****

That had been yesterday, today they were working together to get the codes they needed, and Sonora was being as alert as possible, trying to isolate anyone who might have the codes they needed. She turned her attention to Jeff a moment. "Perhaps you could tell us a bit about the congressmen?" Her manner wasn't quite as sensual as Rebekka's, but she was trying to be enchanting and friendly, as she held the illusion around them, she would pick out truth and lies, as they spoke to the folks in gala, and direct Rebekka to the targets that they needed..

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Jeff grinned. “You interested in getting into politics?” He leaned close. “Stick with me and I’ll get you in the clean way.”

“Clean?” Sonora asked, giving him a smile that was the right amount of curious and befuddled. It was the sexy befuddled, that asked him to show her how smart he was.

“As a wife. Otherwise, you’re a Lewinski.”

“Are you asking me to marry you?” Sorona’s tone was pitched so that it was hard to tell if she was offended.

“Only if you’re going to say yes,” Jeff joked. And he was joking, though there was a hint that he’d be willing to seriously consider a sham of marriage – perhaps the physical part, for at least one evening.

“Well, I do find politics so fascinating.” She didn’t have to add that she found those in politics interesting by extension; the purr in her voice said that for her.

“All the power,” Rebekka added with a small sigh.

“It can be heady.” Ray agreed solemnly, as if he had experienced real power already.

The two couples circulated, talking and mingling casually. Ray and Jeff were taking full advantage of having the two on their arms. The two women found little chance to really engage in deep conversation to uncover who would have the missile codes before the mingling was over and it was time for the ceremony.

The usher guided them to the groom’s side at Ray’s request. “So you know Senator Harrison?”

“I went to school with Scott.” Ray let her get comfortable before he put his arm around her. Jeff seemed a little more reserved, treating Sorona with a little more distance but no less regard. “He and April – man, I never thought the two of them would get together. She was always acting like she was dating him for the money, you know?”

“She definitely wasn’t into computer geeks.” Jeff shook his head.

“What does the groom do?” Sorona asked softly.

“Computer programming for the CIA – satellites or something. His dad got him the job of course. Scott’s too much of a nerd to make it in politics. He’d start trying to crack Star Wars jokes with the King of Saudi Arabia.” Ray snorted. “I still think April’s marrying for the money.”

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"Proposing marriage to a woman you just met is rather bold of you isn't it?" She responded in a teasing manner to Jeff's words, using body language to suggest she understood the real meaning behind his words, and wasn't offended by the idea. "Does it really matter that much to you if she is? Are Scott or April friends of yours?" She paused a moment..."Do you think we should try and find out?"

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"Han shot first," Rebekka remarked with feigned superciliousness and an arched brow.

"Pardon?" Ray said, giving the winsome and witty woman under his arm a quizzical look.

"I said there is being nothing wrong with Star Wars," she teased, her grin fading into a moue of distaste. "At least, there is being nothing wrong with the original three movies - without all the fuckery Lucas inflicted on them..."

Seeing the slight glazing in Ray's eyes, a wry grin resurfaced, a dimple in her cheek flashing and her eyes twinkling as she patted his cheek. "Imagine if the government was capable of projects on the scale of the Death Star? Bon! The ceremony, it is about to start." Her voice dropped to a wicked murmur. "Perhaps later, if you are good - or good at being bad - I will show you pics of me in a slave-girl Leia outfit."

As the stately, silver-haired man officiating the wedding asked for quiet and the murmurs began quieting, Rebekka settled under Ray's arm, smirking at his widening, eager eyes. She gave Sonora a small nod, confirming that they should see if pursuing Scott Harrison was viable.

She had already decided she was going to find the time between the ceremony and the reception to Ray, either between her legs or in her mouth. He had familiarity with the Groom, the Groom's father, and the Bride it seemed, and she could use every bit of info she could get. This would have been so much easier during the bachelor party... Besides, Ray was charming enough and she was always at least a little 'hungry.'

She had noted Ray's demeanor to the mention of power as well. Through lowered lashed, insightful eyes studied the groom to get her own impressions of him. Of an age with Ray, he wasn't exactly handsome, but had an energetic and boyish demeanor, and the tuxedo did make him look sharp. He fidgeted a bit, while his father sat straight with pride and confidence and not a little arrogance.

Then the twelve-piece ensemble started into Pachelbel's Canon in D and the Bride began walking down the aisle on her father's arm. Rebekka studied the Bride even more closely than the Groom, since in the next few hours, she might have to be her. April Wolcott was a cool blonde, short but well-rounded, beautiful in a carefully coiffed, aristocratic way.

Comparing it with the intimate knowledge she had of Sonora's capabilities, it was still too early to determine if it would be better to pretend to be April while the real April was distracted or sidetracked, or simply to seduce Scott on his wedding night. There were pros and cons for both and time during the reception to make a call or perhaps see if there was another avenue towards the satellite codes they needed.

Ray could feel Désirée shifting subtly next to him and glancing down, clearly saw the tips of her pert breasts tenting the front of her dress. When he looked up again, he met rich, brown eyes over a warm, slow smile.

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“Scott was a buddy in college,” Jeff admitted, relaxing since she hadn’t taken offense at his joke and ignoring the fact that the Canon in D had started. “He was dating April then – they were really on and off and she used to complain about him being shitty in the sack while he went on about how she was a bitch when they were broken up. You know. The usual stuff. When they were together, they wouldn’t shut up about one another. All they could talk about was how awesome the other person was.”

“It was seriously annoying.” Ray sounded a little grumpy. “I mean, she used to come around to us all for sex, just to scratch her itch because Scott wouldn’t give it to her right. He must have been terrible in bed.”

Someone behind them shushed the two men and they fell silent. They managed to remain quiet throughout the ceremony, letting the two women enjoy the lavish wedding. No expense was spared; an American Idol winner was there to sing “Because You Loved Me” and then “I Will Always Love You.” It was beautiful ceremony without an ounce of real passion – plenty of fake passion, but not real passion.

When the bride and groom left together and the rest of the bridal party ambled out after, their dates turned to them. “Ready for some grub?” Ray asked with a smile.

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"But of course," Rebekka agreed with her own coy smile, her eyes twinkling. "I am having a... strong appetite."

Rebekka and Sonora linked their arms with Ray and Jeff and followed the bridal party into the luxurious reception hall. After a word with one of the event aides, their dates led them through the precise scattering of round tables decorated with spotless silverware and fine table-clothes with scalloped edges to one relatively near the head table.

They were sharing with a pair of couples of England, both long acquaintances. Damien Cranston, a distinguished-looking business man, and his wife and Jessica Lewis, a woman in the Foreign and Commonwealth Office, and her husband.

They were staid and reserved at first, but Rebekka's captivating presence and affected wry wit and Sonora's charm soon had them opening up and conversing freely. The two stunning mutant women garnered not a little circumspect attention from the married men, though their wives didn't notice, or pretended not to.

The entire affair had a sense of being carefully directed and organized, even the more risqué stories from the best man and other friends and acquaintances seeming to be well rehearsed and organized. The food was excellent however, the wine fine Californian vintages.

Senator Harrison appeared to be more genuinely rambunctious and the new Mrs. Harrison was obviously basking in all the attention. At their table, the laughter was honest and at time wicked, hearing stories of a younger Scott and April from Jeff, Ray, Damien and Jessica.

Throughout dinner, Rebekka kept a covert eye on the newlyweds, studying how they interacted with each other and with others - April was far more the engaging. Rebekka was beginning to get a vague, niggling suspicion about the woman, from the what she heard of her and the way she acted, but nothing concrete yet.

Then desert was being served - a fine assortment of gourmet cakes and pastries and European chocolates - after which the reception moved to the Ballroom for some dancing. Rebekka took the opportunity to get Sonora alone in the bathroom to make some plans.

After a single dance, she was going to get Ray alone to 'pump' him for information, then move in on Scott with a new appearance - she would let Sonora know who she was. Sonora was hold April's attention - with or without Jeff, as she best determined.

The newlyweds took the traditional first dance. Scott may have been a bit stiff, but April had obviously had recent lessons for this occasion, moving easily through the steps, though without the polish of experience. Then Rebekka followed Ray onto the marble ballroom floor, her heels clicking softly, their bodies pressed close.

Rebekka loved dancing, finding it a microcosm of the social dynamics that surrounded them in which she instinctively excelled. She purposely kept her talent subdued, following Ray's lead with coy grace and little skill, though he didn't mind with her supple body pressed close to his. And as the dance came to an end, she rose up on her toes, her lips close to his ear, her breath warm and soft.

"The reception, it is very splendid, but I am wanting you. Now. Alone, and..." she said, her voice sliding into sultry French Ray couldn't understand, but sounded incredibly dirty. Rebekka could feel harden instantly, and smiled.

"Who am I to deny a pretty lady?" Ray got out, voice thick with desire as he reluctantly let her go.

Rebekka chortled wickedly, then slipped out of the Ballroom and into the hallway, followed shortly by Ray, as she knew he would. Their hands and lips all over each other, they just barely found an empty room - an office or waiting room or the like - before they were indecent.

Hardly adverse to a floor or desk, the leather couch was a pleasant surprise. Ray found himself on his back, shivering and panting as Rebekka straddled him, her manicured nails skimmed over his flesh, striping him with an artist's virtuosity. He had never felt saw raw pleasure from just a woman's touch.

"I don't think I have ever met a woman like you, Désirée," Ray groaned.

"There are no women like me," Rebekka boasted in a seductive sigh, With each lingering caress, her lips teasing the length of him, the image of a doorframe within her mind grew in detail, as distinct from the thousands of others occupying her head as a fingerprint. Like shadows and sound slipping beneath the bottom of a door, hints of Ray's life became hers. "But now you have and I assure you, you will never forget it."

On the point of culmination, Rebekka hiked up her dress, revealing she wasn't wearing any underwear and settled astride him with a languorous moan. And as he exploded inside her, the door in her mind swung wide open and she stepped through, the entirety of Ray's life flashing before her eyes.

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The swell of information was slow at first then gained speed. His childhood, then his adolescence, then college years and his short but brilliant career after that all flashed through her mind. His sins, his glories, his failures and his successes – all were bared to her. Though she would have liked to luxuriate in the delight of a life stolen, she had a mission.

Rebekka picked through his memories for ones of April and Scott. April was vibrant and outgoing – and helpfully, she and Ray had slept together once when she and Scott were on the outs. Ray had been just drunk enough to do it and had felt kinda bad about it later. But he’d never felt badly enough to confess it to Scott and he’d never talked about it with April either. It gave Rebekka the images she needed to portray the woman.

Scott was always the outsider. While Ray liked the guy well enough, he didn’t really feel like he knew him either. Scott went out and partied with them; he was one of the guys. But he rarely shared himself, or at least, he didn’t share himself the way Rebekka needed for information. That could be a part of the male bonding experience, but even with that, Scott had always held himself away from the other men. Ray hadn’t really noticed it, but Rebekka could see it clearly. To her, it was crystal clear.

“Hey, wow.” Ray’s murmur of delight pulled Rebekka’s attention back to her target. His hands traced lazy patterns over her back, leaving tingles of pleasure behind his touch. “You’re amazing.”

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Rebekka gave Ray a slow, sultry, and satisfied - if hardly satiated - smile, shifting subtly atop him, softly stimulating him to stiffness once more. Ray was a good ride, hardly any deep emotional trauma for her to deal with - not that she was adverse to exquisite pain, but she didn't have the time to bask in recovering from it. Perhaps Désirée will give Ray a call later...

"Me, I am amazing," Rebekka purred in silken, accented tones, her grin deepening. "I am being greedy and cruel at times, too."

Her rhythm increased, deft fingers teasing, tongue caressing him with a potent seduction. It wasn't long before Ray erupted once more. And then Ray groaned as incredibly, this insatiable vixen drove him to climax again. Ray had tried Viagra once - just to see how it was. This woman made Viagra seem as effective as a gummi bear in comparison. Dear god...

Ray's eyes fluttered, barely conscious as Rebekka climbed off him and slipped her dress back on and fixed her hair. A few moments later, there was little sign of Rebekka's exertions. She leaned over a Ray a tender kiss on the limps, and impossibly, he was vaguely aware of growing tumescent.

"Perhaps, you will be seeing me again... one day," Ray heard behind eyes that refused to stay open, the click of her heels fading away, then dying behind the soft thump of the door closing.

Minutes later, a new server stepped out of the bathroom, a round faced Latina woman, well-padded but attractive, black hair held back in a bun, dressed in crisp black and white. Rebekka glided unobtrusively into the Ballroom, picking up a tray of drinks from the side of the room as if she had every right to do so, and began circulating.

Rebekka casually made her way round to Sonora when she say Jeff wasn't nearby. A pleasant, professional smile on her plump lips, she offered the French mutant a flute of champagne, sitting on top of a napkin.

"Champagne, Senora Sonora?" Rebekka offered in a soft murmur, with a quirk of her brow.

It took only an instant for Sonora to realize what this server using her name meant. With a soft 'Merci,' Sonora accepted the glass - and napkin - receiving a gracious nod in return before Rebekka began weaving her way through the Ballroom, in the vague direction of the Bride.

Slipping the napkin into her purse, Sonora found the terse note written on it: When the King is off the board, block the Queen as you decide. Rebekka was about to make her play, then it was Sonora's turn.

Rebekka replenished her tray of drinks, got a surly senator his scotch, offered April a drink - which she waved off while dancing, then took a circuitous towards Scott. Without asking, she leaned over, placing a drink in front of the groom, her lips nearing his ear.

"Senor Harrison, the bride is requesting her new husband to meet her in the bridal dressing chambers. She has something she wants to show you, and only you."

Scott looked up in surprise at the server. Rebekka raised her brows in evident honesty. "That is what she said, senor."

Scott glanced over at his new wife, who smiled and blew him a kiss when she noticed his regard. "I, uh, thank-you, miss..."

"Cruz. Sofia Cruz." He'll bite... Rebekka thought confidently as she walked away, abandoning her tray on a side table before she left the ballroom. She was challenged once, but the excuse of a smoke break was accepted.

Rebekka worked her way through the hallways, coming to the Bride's dressing room from the side opposite the Atrium. As soon as the hall was empty, she slipped inside. She glanced around the finely furnished room, pale woods and carved-frame mirrors, but didn't have time to waste.

Rebekka flexed a phantom muscle inside her head, forcing her third change of the night. Dark hair and dusky skin began to lighten to pale blond and peaches-and-cream, her height lessening to a petite five feet tall, figure growing trim and curved in all the right places, Her black skirt and white blouse slowly shifted into a glamorous bridal dress of glossy white, sensible flats rising into a pair of high-class heels.

Rebekka counted every second the shift took, sliding behind the elegant privacy screen, hoping it would give her an extra few moments if Scott was too quick. She felt the shift snap into place just as the door opened once more.

The splitting image of April Harrison née Wilcott spun around then end of the privacy screen, heart hammering in relief at seeing that it really was Scott entering, and smiled up at him. Her heart was hammering with anticipation as well.

"Husband, my darling husband... I do like the sound of that," Rebekka said in April's sophisticated, British accent. Her blue, so blue, eyes sparkled with a hungry and playful light her new well. The new Mrs. Harrison almost seemed to glow with an inner radiance, so beautiful Scott could hardly believe he was married to this vision. Rebekka rose up on her toes, giving him an ardent kiss, using Ray's memories to make sure the kiss was familiar to Scott

"This wedding, it was more for our families and their acquaintances, than for us, husband, though admittedly, I am quite enjoying the spectacle." Her grin grew wicked as she stepped back and turned, looking at him over a slender shoulder. "And yes, there will be the consummation later at the hotel - that will be known to all. Also, it will be later.

Her tones grew even more seductive as she shimmied, encouraging him to come closer and help her with the buttons of her wedding dress. "I was thinking - if you are not off-put by an eager and demanding wife, perhaps, we could have a 'moment', now, all to ourselves, while our fathers and the other noteworthies are off congratulating themselves on our nuptials."

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Scott stared at his wife, and Rebekka noticed that his expression wasn’t all that eager. It was confused. “April, are you drunk?” Those weren’t exactly the words that Rebekka expected to hear. “What are you doing?”

“Exactly… what I said,” ‘April’ replied, stepping forward and grabbing his lapels. A nasty suspicion was burbling in her mind.

Scott’s next words started to confirm that idea. “We have an arrangement. Sex wasn’t part of it.” He sighed and pulled her hands loose, walking back to take a seat on the couch. “Look, what is this really about? Do you want more of a stipend? More trips and travel? What’s going on, April?”

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"What? No, nothing of the sort," Rebekka replied, blue eyes widening in perfect imitation of affront. She forced herself to flush, suggesting the comment couldn't fully be applied to the question of her drinking.

I may have seriously miscalculated my approach... Rebekka mused in frustration, swiftly mentally reevaluating what she knew of Scott's and April's relationship from Ray's point of view. Scott showed not the slightest hint of sexual interest. Even if this was purely a marriage of convenience, he should have showed something. This did not bode well, but she wasn't done yet. I can still make this work.

Moving stiffly, she took special care of her wedding gown as she sat down on the opposite end of the couch, hands held primly in her lap. She kept her expression stony, facing ahead so Scott only saw the elegant profile of her face. The faint frown on her lips and tightening of her suddenly glistening eyes hinted at frustration, self-recrimination, and something like melancholy.

"I have - had - every intention of adhering fully to our arrangement," she said, a slight hitch to her crisp, accented tones. "The terms are more than generous and eminently acceptable. It's just... It's..."

She paused, then ducked her head, surreptitiously wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. She took a deep, composing breath then twisted around and leaned forward to fix Scott with a wide, intent gaze, blue eyes bright at wet sapphires.

"We knew what we getting into for the sake of our families, and what we expected to get out of it. Yet, despite the falsity of our marriage of convenience - or maybe on account of it - there is a part of me that yearns to have a sliver of verisimilitude."

Rebekka sighed and leaned back, sitting straight and proper, facing forward once more, straining to suppress her natural sensual allure and instead emanating a vulnerable honesty. Her voice was cool and composed.

"I was a young girl once, with grand dreams and designs for my wedding day, like any other child. I am a woman now, who has to make accommodation with reality and circumstance, and accepts it. But as much as my mind says one thing, my heart demands more, much to my own surprise. I... simply felt the first man I should lay with after our union should be my husband. Yes, the cynic in me is almost retching at the silliness and romanticism, but I would like to think it would be enough to allow me to endure all that comes after."

She smiled softly, as if the word 'husband' still enthralled her, then glanced at Scott demurely through long, lowered lashes. "Proclivities aside, is it truly too much to ask to share a single moment of intimacy with my husband?"

Insight Roll:

Asarasa *rolls* 1d20: 3+16: 19 (Blech, Spending an HP to reroll)

Asarasa *rolls* 1d20: 16+16: 32 (Better)

Condition: Fine | HP: 1

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“Endure. A bank account that will never be empty, no questions asked, the freedom to be with any guy you want, so long as you’re discreet, and you’ll endure that?” Scott raked his hands through his hair, messing up his neatly moussed locks. “And you’re bringing this up now, because we’re through the wedding. I’ve not denied you anything we’ve negotiated so far, so what could possibly make me balk now?”

“I just want… for just a moment… to feel like I have a real wedding.” ‘April’ coaxed. “To feel like we have a real marriage.”

“You don’t even believe in marriage! Where the fuck is this coming from! Jesus! We had this worked out.” Scott started to pace, his feet pounding on the carpet. Suddenly, he turned and grabbed her arms. “What the fuck is it now? What are you holding me over the barrels for this time? I have given you everything you want already!”

Scott is utterly uninterested in women. Rebekka can’t detect even a trace of sexual interest in even the penultimate woman.

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Pitying pleading failed, so now onto blackmail, Rebekka mused calmly. Scott was gripping her arms to tightly, he would have left bruises on the average woman. Hmm, maybe I should goad him some into some unintentional erotic asphyxiation...

'April's' hesitancy and pleading expression faded into a distant coolness. She glanced down at the hands holding her arms to tight the knuckles were white, then craned her neck to stare up at her 'husband' with large, hard blue eyes.

"Very well. Release me," April chimed, her British accent so cold and sharp it was like a razor blade made of ice.

Scott glared at his wife silently for a long moment, then gave her a single hard shake as he released her. He couldn't quite suppress a tiny pang of shame as he watched her walk stiffly to the divan, surreptitiously rubbing her arms where he had grabbed her.

Rebekka ostentatiously took her time arranging the skirt of her wedding gown, then primly folded her hands on her lap as she turned her eyes on Scott. It was riveting sapphire gaze, sharp as icicles.

"What do I wish? Very simply, I want insurance."

Exasperated and furious, Scott stalked back and forth in front of the petite, curvaceous woman he had tied himself to, like a caged animal, his eyes never leaving hers. "Insurance? What more can I possibly do to assure you?"

Rebekka's painted lips curved faintly with ominous intent. Time to play the soap opera card. "A child."

Scott staggered in disbelief, his eyes so wide they showed white all around. "A child? A CHILD?! Are you fucking insane? No! No way!"

"A child," Rebekka continued relentlessly, with the urbane cruelty of a Bond villain. "It's not that I don't trust you." The way she arched her brow suggested he would regret betraying her. "But without any issue, there may be whispers. And if our fathers discover the travesty of our marriage, they will everything they need to have it annulled." Her eyes narrowed to mere slits, her lips drawn in a tight smile that said she had him in check.. "I. Will. Not. Risk. That."

Scott sputtered, at a loss, eyes jerking around the room, as if looking for a way out or a tuft of grass to grab before plunging over the cliff. "I can't - they won't... It's not your - what about your contraceptive implant? And you are willing to get fat and preggers?"

"Removed. it is my time. And do not underestimate what I'm willing to do to get what I want." How true. "There was more than one reason why I got involved in the wedding arrangements. I planned for this, honey," Rebekka said with sibilant, sultry condescension. And mate. "With a child from our union, even if our... arrangement is discovered, they won't be able to do shit."

She leaned forward, making Scott flinch back, and pointed commandingly at the other end of the couch. "Now, what I suggest, husband dear, is that you the fuck lay down, close your bloody eyes, and picture whatever fat cock or tight ass fits your fancy, while I do all the work."

With April's crisp and sophisticated accent, her words sounded especially vulgar. Rebekka was slightly concerned that her subterfuge might later be discovered, or at least suspected in vague terms, but she might still be able to limit the possibility. "And when I'm done, we'll never, ever, speak of this moment again."

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Scott’s face was red and his expression was taut with rage. For one moment, Rebekka worried she’d pushed him too far. “Fine. We’ll play your game. But you’re not the primary caretaker; I wouldn’t leave a dead cat in your care.”

“Fine. I don’t do diapers anyway.” ‘April’ turned around. “Undo me.”

“Now?” Scott snorted. “I’m so mad I don’t want to look at you, much less touch you. We can do this later, artificially.”

“And let you substitute some other man’s sperm so that if you decide to get rid of me you’ll have an assured failure on a paternity test? I don’t think so.” The shapeshifter sighed dramatically. “Scott, neither of us is looking forward to this. So let’s just get the first attempt over with and be done. Five minutes and then we’re back at the party.”

Scott’s glare was murderous but he spun her roughly around and began to jerk at her buttons.

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"Careful! Do not rip off any buttons!" Fake-pril hissed, goading Scott's frustrations. As Scott growled, Rebekka hid a smile at his rough hands. The sex was hardly going to be satisfying, but she planned on getting some from Scott's fierce anger.

Scott finally undid the buttons and Rebekka slipped out of the billowing folds of the wedding dress. She unclipped her garters and slid her panties off before turning around to face Scott, who was angrily working his belt. She felt vaguely discomfited with his complete disinterest. Fury and hatred she had seen before, even welcomed it in certain ways, but never such lack of appreciation for her peerless beauty, even from gay men or straight women.

"Need help, yourself?" she mocked, arching a brow at his clumsy hands on his belt.

"I got it."

Rebekka clucked her tongued condescendingly and ignored him recoiling as she stepped up into him, "Allow me, assuming you want to get this over with tonight." With a practiced motion, she had his belt and pants off, followed by his underwear. Scott was a well-crafted man, a loss for women everywhere. She wrapped her slim hand around his shaft, ignoring his non-gentle slaps at her hand, and tugged him towards the couch. "Lay down and let's do this."

She straddled his legs and began with her mouth, using exquisite skill learned over 75 years and hundreds of lifetimes, some even belonging to a number of gay men. She got an response, though not as powerful of one as she was wanting as he grew tumescent in her mouth. It actually felt a bit insulting. His hands painfully tight in her hair, she glared up him, mumbling around his shaft for him to close his eyes. That worked mildly better.

Getting him as hard as she thought she would with her mouth, she shifted up to his hips and inserted him inside herself, snarling at the utter disgust on his face - not all faked on her part. They began to rock together, Rebekka working her vaginal muscles with uncanny precision.

Scott's lips were peeled back in a grimace, his hands bruisingly hard on her hips. Rebekka's teeth were almost rattling in her head with Scott having all the rhythm of a blind, three-legged horse destined for the glue factory. Despite the sex being as satisfying as a bowl of gruel - technically filling, but about as tasty as sand - Rebekka was growing aroused by Scott's rough frustrations.

And her own frustrations. Scott was hard now, yet still showed no sign of reaching the climax she needed to consume his life experiences. Rebekka couldn't help herself, flogging the both of them with their mounting frustrations, making her skin prickle. Just as she thought she saw murder in Scott's pained expression, Rebekka finally relented.

"Still?! Fucking fag can't man up?" she snorted, frowning with contemptuous condescension. "Well then, I'll finish you off your way."

She leaned forward, her breasts flattening against his lower chest as she squeezed a hand between the couch and his buttocks. Then she slipped two fingers inside him and with knowledge gleaned from numerous doctors and countless sexual encounters, she deftly manipulated his prostate.

The results were instantaneous, Scott making a sound somewhere between a roar and a sob as he spilled his seed and memories inside her. Convulsively, he heaved her off him, sending her slight weight halfway across the room, panting heavily as he glared at her with absolute hate.

Elevating her chin imperiously, Rebekka climbed slowly to her feet, balancing precariously in her heels as she got dressed and digested his life. She didn't get it all, but she got the codes to the satellites and some bit more. She actually sympathized with how he had to deal with being homosexual, something she could identify with, being completely bisexual. In a way, it was like his was a mutant too, and that, she could understand very well. And yet, in her ever present need, she couldn't regret using Scott in this fashion.

Scott found the soul deep empathy in the eyes of the woman wearing his wife's face disconcerting as her lips curled in a cold smile and blew him a kiss. "Thank you honey. I hope it was as good for you as it was for me," she said, her crystalline voice shattering the fragile silence between them. "Now, don't sulk in here long, dear, okay? We still have guests to entertain."

Feigning a stiffness in her gait, Rebekka slipped out of the rear door to the dressing-room, already beginning to slide into her next guise as she went to find Sonora and tell her their mission was accomplished. Hopefully, the French mutant had been able to distract anyone from noticing Scott's absence.

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Scott’s absence had been noted, but not with any great concern. Least concerned of all was April, who was busy dancing with a group of girls. Sonora was in the group, doing her best to keep tabs on the bride and distract her if she started to look for Scott. But April was busy drinking and dancing, having far too much fun with her lady friends. She wasn’t flirting with the friends; she was just young, beautiful and having a Big Day. She was also having a non-stop glass of champagne; a waiter hovering near the group kept her refilled.

Catching sight of Rebekka, Sonora raised her eyebrows inquisitively. Rebekka gave a satisfied nod and Sonora tilted her head toward the exit in a silent question. Rebekka’s expression expressed her dismay about leaving the party at all; work was done and it was time to play.

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Rebekka's lips curved in a smirk, noting the ever-full glass of champagne in April's hand. Even if Scott did bring up their torrid and horrid coupling, April would have the perfect excuse for having no recollection of it, most likely.

She answered Sonora's tilt of the head with a shrug and an arched brow, indicating the French mutant could go if she wished, but that she intended to mingle for a while yet. This was an event more to her style, networking and mingling with the wealthy and the influential. She would have preferred more celebrities, athletes, and artists than politicians, but she'd make do.

With her goal accomplished, Rebekka was well aware that she should just go and meet up with May, but as grateful as she was for her rescue, she wouldn't just be Sol's - or anyone's - pet whore and information gathering anymore. And the glitterati and press of bodies called to her. She would have her fun, and it didn't only have to be on her back...

It was well past midnight when Rebekka found May and Sonora outside the Ronald Reagan Building and International Trade Center. She was wearing the guise of a svelte woman in her forties, raven hair winged with white, elegant, yet sultry, based on the wife of a British Lord she had known fifty years ago.

"My word, I didn't mean to keep you ladies waiting," Rebekka chuckled in smoky, English-accented tones as she held a thumb and finger an inch apart, "but I was this close in making the personal acquaintance of the fine President of our wayward colonies."

It was an exaggeration - if not as much of one as most would assume - but Rebekka allowed it. It sounded better that way. And she was still bitter about missing her opportunity with Clinton - he had been far too circumspect after the whole Lewinsky affair - and Kennedy - she had been set to replace Marilyn Monroe when the cow had the audacity to die before she could make the switch.

May was not amused, ostentatiously glancing down at her watch. "Sure took your time, Princess. Enjoy yourself? Are you ready to go, now?"

Rebekka chuckled again, patting May's cheek. "Quite, dear. And I have everything we came for with none the wiser. Really, you should have come in for a spell. It was a splendid to-do."

May snorted at the self-satisfied shapeshifter as she led them away someplace they could call up Tyrone unseen.

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