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crossoverficTitle: Choice
Author: animehealer
Fandoms: DDP/Marvel comic titles G.I. Joe/AXM/Xmen/Civil War
Rating: PG-13 for violence, language and sexual situations
Warnings: not work safe
Pairings: Scarlett/Snake-eyes and Shadowcat/Colossus
Characters: G.I. Joe America's elite plus canon and made up characters, AXM, Xmen, Civil War.
Summary: What if one G.I. Joe, one of America's elite, developed mutant powers during the Civil War crisis.
Disclaimer: G.I. Joe is owned by Hasbro, AXM, Xmen and Civil War is Marvel property. I own none of these characters. I am just a fan. :)
A gentle breeze flowed through the trees, bringing the smell of flowers and murmurs of conversation among the Champs-Elysées. Autos drove in the spring twilight, as shopkeepers tended to the last hours of business and the nightlife of Paris awoke with growing crowds. Two women, both dressed for a night on the town, walked together in the gloom. One redheaded, one auburn, they spoke softly in rapid French about the weather and trivial matters, ignoring glances and catcalls from interested parties.
“Scarlett, this is crazy.” The auburn-haired woman suddenly whispered to her companion in English, once past the last crowd of admirers. The two women moved further down the sidewalk, their high heels ringing on the concrete. “Trust me, I would never turn down a night on the town in Paris, but are you sure he’ll be there?” Cover-girl looked to the redhead then grimaced as a familiar voice droned in her ear.
“You gettin’ cold feet greaser?” Shipwreck’s voice queried, a slight edge of concern in it. Cover-girl bit back a curse as Scarlett chuckled.
“I’m just fine Popeye. How are you today?” Cover-girl said back with mock sweetness via the throat mike underneath her satin black ribbon choker, winking at Scarlett. The two women grinned at each other, trying not to laugh when music caught their attention. Both faced straight ahead as club Chez Rouge came into view. Bouncers at the door, a long waiting line and the muffled sounds of industrial music labeled this the latest Parisian hot spot. Their quarry would not be able to resist this place.
“Can the mother hen act Ship’. Court’s fine. Get ready Joes, it’s about to get live.” Stalker added on the com link.
"Trust me, he'll be there." Scarlett stated, as the two reached the line for the best club in Paris.
Cover-girl preened a bit for one of the bouncers, also making sure the earpiece was covered by her long hair. Scarlett stared dismissingly at the latest group of cavaliers to appreciate her charms and then smiled at the doorman. She had her ear piece and throat mic well hidden but she wasn’t sure if the short navy number she was wearing would convince the doorman she was just a respectable club patron. Cover-girl assured her they both were wearing the latest in Paris fashion and Cover-girl’s green outfit was no less risky. Dressed as they were and with Cover-girl's experience as a high fashion model they were a shoe-in. Fortunately, both women found that they could still move and fight in the dresses, much to Clutch’s dismay earlier that evening. The other male Joes found Clutch’s plight humorous with Snake-eyes stoic as always, but there may have been a gleam of amusement and something more behind the dark goggles the commando wore.
Scarlett, blushing slightly at the possibilities, looked up as if to admire the lights of the club and saw a dark shadow there for a moment. Snake-eyes was in place and she knew he was watching her. She was as ready as she was going to be.
**********************************************************
Stalker edged back into his seat in the rented room, his weapon close at hand. Gung-ho was working the downstairs with Shipwreck, both men fitting in as Marseilles dock workers on holiday in Paris. Boomer, the newest Joe, was edging closer to the window and talking quietly to Sparks over a secure com-link via palm pilot. Or that’s what he said it was.
Modern technology, Stalker thought. Give me a radio any day. The ranger adjusted his throat mike then whispered to Boomer.
“Kid, I can tell you its’ still Paris out there. Don’t get too close to the window or someone will spot our position from the rue.” Stalker’s calm voice advised.
Boomer flushed. “Sorry Stalker, just nervous.”
“Nervous is fine, just don’t get too antsy. You’re a Joe, remember that.”
Boomer nodded and backed up a bit. Soft com traffic with Sparks commenced and Boomer calmed down. Stalker sighed and carefully stretched his shoulders, listening to the communications between his team and base. He hoped that Snakes and Tommy were having better luck on their end.
***********************************************************
The white ninja and the commando took their positions on the roof of Chez Rouge, waiting patiently for the signal from Scarlett or Stalker. Red fish, Scarlett has the package. Blue fish, all has hit the fan and Stalker’s pulling the team out. Storm Shadow noted the noise of the crowd and turned his head slowly to take in all the possible routes on the roof. Snake-eyes waited behind a gargoyle statue, an out of place anachronism in contrast to the modern dance club under their feet.
Perhaps once this is done my sword brother can finally have peace and happiness, Storm Shadow thought. This last bit of Intel would help finally kill the snake of COBRA if Scarlett and Cover-girl succeed. Storm Shadow knew it irked the Joe women to resort to dressing like painted dolls to flush this contact out, but under cover was the best way to do this without international incident. General Hawk was sketchy on the concerns from the U.N. and the President. There were problems with direct action. Something big had happened a while back in the world and the E.U. was still in damage control mode. It wasn’t terrorists, but something…worse. For some reason his knowledge on this was not complete. Perhaps he could find more information, later.
He looked to Snake-eyes and spoke softly. “Brother, I am in place. We will wait.” The black-clad commando turned his head to Storm Shadow and nodded. They were ready.
*************************************************************
“Scarlett, bathroom on the left.” Cover-girl almost shouted, the music droning loudly in both Joe women’s ears. Scarlett headed to the water closet, Cover-girl behind her. Two hours of dancing, or appearing to dance, only gave them four telephone numbers, one indecent proposal and one almost cat-fight with three drunk women. Scarlett was rubbing her temple as the two retreated into the facilities.
“God.” She hissed softly. “I hate cigarette smoke.” Scarlett turned on the water faucet to the sink and rinsed her face. Cover-girl handed her a paper towel.
“You going to be okay Red? You’ve been getting more and more headaches lately…” The tank driver asked with concern, as she pretended to ignore primping women and fix her lipstick. One sober woman stopped fussing with her hair, took a look at the two and sniffed “bitch" with a dismissing air. Cover-girl smirked to the counter intelligence specialist, who was leaning her forehead on the wall mirror. “She’s just mad her boy toy liked your company more than hers.” Then the smirk left Cover-girl's face. "You're not going to be okay."
“Any luck yet?” Stalker asked over the link.
“Negative.” Scarlett sighed, dismissing her condition, standing straight up and drying off her face.
“We comin’ down de rue chere.” Gung-ho added. “We’ll be there.”
Scarlett tossed the paper towel in the garbage and straightened her skirt. “Charlie Mike.” She then turned on her heel and walked back towards the noise and desperation outside. Cover-girl, knowing better than to talk Scarlett out of a mission, finished her pretend grooming and followed out the door.
*************************************************************
Remy LeBleu took a long sip of cognac and dealt the next card on the table, hidden beyond the bar of Chez Rouge. Most of the Parisian card sharks liked it here, due to the fact that the poker tables were an after-thought. His current opponent, however, was not one of these card sharks. “Jack of hearts homme. What’ll that give you?” His mocking red eyes, shielded behind dark sunglasses, challenged his opponent.
The older man took the card. “Deal me another,” his voice rasped.
“Dad, they’re not coming. Let’s go before this swamp rat takes all your euros. You remember how much aunt Zarana bitched the last time you lost at cards.”
The mutant known as Gambit stared at the girl in dreads, black leather and too much make-up. She had been perched like a fish-wife at his opponent’s side for the last two hours and she was now attempting to help the older man leave the table.
“And what do you know of poker ma petite?” Gambit asked with flippant air, finally done with the girl’s harping on his good run again her papa.
“Nothing and its’ staying that way. Come on Dad.” Zanya pulled on the older man’s arm, dragging him to his feet. The two left the table, the daughter supporting her unstable father’s steps. LeBleu raised his glass in a toast to the mysterious man and finished his drink, then collected the small pot in the middle of the table. Tucking the euros in his wallet the mutant resumed playing with the deck in his hands, watching the father and daughter. Interesting, he thought. Very interesting.
Zanya dragged her father to the bar and attempted to order black coffee in very loud English, but she was getting nowhere fast with the frenzied bar staff in the middle of the 2am crush. Ten minutes passed and she could feel her blood pressure getting higher from the anger on her face. She screamed again at the head bar man.
“You know,” a voice said in amused English, “calling them garcon is only going to make them ignore you more”.
Zanya twisted her head to curse out the woman to her left, only to find Cover-girl staring at her with a smile on her face.
“Found you.” The tank driver said, staring at the girl like a cat with a ball of string.
“Finally…” another voice agreed, wearily. Zanya twisted the other way to see Scarlett at her right. The red haired Joe measured the girl, eyes not lowering from Zanya’s hateful stare. “Let’s all go outside, shall we Zartan?” Scarlett added as Zanya lost the challenge and looked away. The older man nodded and pushed off the bar, walking on his own. Silently fuming, Zanya followed him with Scarlett and Cover-girl at her heels.
Once they moved out of the smoke-filled club and back to the rue the four relocated to a discreet area by a marble fountain. Zanya glared at the Joe women but kept her peace. Zartan sat on a bench with a heavy thud and reached into his jacket.
“How long did it take for you to find me?” He asked Scarlett, as Cover-girl glanced around for any threat. She knew Gung-ho and Shipwreck would be in support position soon.
“Long enough,” Scarlett said softly. “If you’d come out from cover earlier less people would have died.”
“But I didn’t have a choice!!” Zartan barked, startling a few patrons and encouraging Zanya to move protectively closer to him. A bouncer moved back into Chez Rouge, concern in his eyes. “I never have a choice.” He whispered, defeated.
Scarlett raised her hand to her temple at a sudden flash of pain, as Cover-girl hissed. “Bullsh..”
“There is always a choice.” Scarlett’s voice interrupted, suddenly very weak and tired. She lowered her hand back down and locked pleading blue eyes with Zartan. Please, do this, she silently willed him.
Over the channel the Joe men listened for the code word. Red fish or blue fish. Gung-ho and Shipwreck moved to the door of the club, watching the four and waiting. Storm Shadow and Snake-eyes tensed, close to the edge of the roof and unsure how Zartan would react.
“Stay cool ladies,” Stalker crooned softly, “Don’t scare him.” Boomer started to report the new development to Sparks, looking for advisement from Hawk.
Zartan regarded Scarlett with a long thoughtful look. After five minutes of painful silence, he finally nodded.
Their eyes and attention locked on the tableau of Zartan and Scarlett, the Joes all took a collective breath of relief.
A red glow grew from topiary beyond the club door. Gambit, having seen and heard everything, lowered his sun glasses and finished his cigarette.
Author: animehealer
Fandoms: DDP/Marvel comic titles G.I. Joe/AXM/Xmen/Civil War
Rating: PG-13 for violence, language and sexual situations
Warnings: not work safe
Pairings: Scarlett/Snake-eyes and Shadowcat/Colossus
Characters: G.I. Joe America's elite plus canon and made up characters, AXM, Xmen, Civil War.
Summary: What if one G.I. Joe, one of America's elite, developed mutant powers during the Civil War crisis.
Disclaimer: G.I. Joe is owned by Hasbro, AXM, Xmen and Civil War is Marvel property. I own none of these characters. I am just a fan. :)
A gentle breeze flowed through the trees, bringing the smell of flowers and murmurs of conversation among the Champs-Elysées. Autos drove in the spring twilight, as shopkeepers tended to the last hours of business and the nightlife of Paris awoke with growing crowds. Two women, both dressed for a night on the town, walked together in the gloom. One redheaded, one auburn, they spoke softly in rapid French about the weather and trivial matters, ignoring glances and catcalls from interested parties.
“Scarlett, this is crazy.” The auburn-haired woman suddenly whispered to her companion in English, once past the last crowd of admirers. The two women moved further down the sidewalk, their high heels ringing on the concrete. “Trust me, I would never turn down a night on the town in Paris, but are you sure he’ll be there?” Cover-girl looked to the redhead then grimaced as a familiar voice droned in her ear.
“You gettin’ cold feet greaser?” Shipwreck’s voice queried, a slight edge of concern in it. Cover-girl bit back a curse as Scarlett chuckled.
“I’m just fine Popeye. How are you today?” Cover-girl said back with mock sweetness via the throat mike underneath her satin black ribbon choker, winking at Scarlett. The two women grinned at each other, trying not to laugh when music caught their attention. Both faced straight ahead as club Chez Rouge came into view. Bouncers at the door, a long waiting line and the muffled sounds of industrial music labeled this the latest Parisian hot spot. Their quarry would not be able to resist this place.
“Can the mother hen act Ship’. Court’s fine. Get ready Joes, it’s about to get live.” Stalker added on the com link.
"Trust me, he'll be there." Scarlett stated, as the two reached the line for the best club in Paris.
Cover-girl preened a bit for one of the bouncers, also making sure the earpiece was covered by her long hair. Scarlett stared dismissingly at the latest group of cavaliers to appreciate her charms and then smiled at the doorman. She had her ear piece and throat mic well hidden but she wasn’t sure if the short navy number she was wearing would convince the doorman she was just a respectable club patron. Cover-girl assured her they both were wearing the latest in Paris fashion and Cover-girl’s green outfit was no less risky. Dressed as they were and with Cover-girl's experience as a high fashion model they were a shoe-in. Fortunately, both women found that they could still move and fight in the dresses, much to Clutch’s dismay earlier that evening. The other male Joes found Clutch’s plight humorous with Snake-eyes stoic as always, but there may have been a gleam of amusement and something more behind the dark goggles the commando wore.
Scarlett, blushing slightly at the possibilities, looked up as if to admire the lights of the club and saw a dark shadow there for a moment. Snake-eyes was in place and she knew he was watching her. She was as ready as she was going to be.
**********************************************************
Stalker edged back into his seat in the rented room, his weapon close at hand. Gung-ho was working the downstairs with Shipwreck, both men fitting in as Marseilles dock workers on holiday in Paris. Boomer, the newest Joe, was edging closer to the window and talking quietly to Sparks over a secure com-link via palm pilot. Or that’s what he said it was.
Modern technology, Stalker thought. Give me a radio any day. The ranger adjusted his throat mike then whispered to Boomer.
“Kid, I can tell you its’ still Paris out there. Don’t get too close to the window or someone will spot our position from the rue.” Stalker’s calm voice advised.
Boomer flushed. “Sorry Stalker, just nervous.”
“Nervous is fine, just don’t get too antsy. You’re a Joe, remember that.”
Boomer nodded and backed up a bit. Soft com traffic with Sparks commenced and Boomer calmed down. Stalker sighed and carefully stretched his shoulders, listening to the communications between his team and base. He hoped that Snakes and Tommy were having better luck on their end.
***********************************************************
The white ninja and the commando took their positions on the roof of Chez Rouge, waiting patiently for the signal from Scarlett or Stalker. Red fish, Scarlett has the package. Blue fish, all has hit the fan and Stalker’s pulling the team out. Storm Shadow noted the noise of the crowd and turned his head slowly to take in all the possible routes on the roof. Snake-eyes waited behind a gargoyle statue, an out of place anachronism in contrast to the modern dance club under their feet.
Perhaps once this is done my sword brother can finally have peace and happiness, Storm Shadow thought. This last bit of Intel would help finally kill the snake of COBRA if Scarlett and Cover-girl succeed. Storm Shadow knew it irked the Joe women to resort to dressing like painted dolls to flush this contact out, but under cover was the best way to do this without international incident. General Hawk was sketchy on the concerns from the U.N. and the President. There were problems with direct action. Something big had happened a while back in the world and the E.U. was still in damage control mode. It wasn’t terrorists, but something…worse. For some reason his knowledge on this was not complete. Perhaps he could find more information, later.
He looked to Snake-eyes and spoke softly. “Brother, I am in place. We will wait.” The black-clad commando turned his head to Storm Shadow and nodded. They were ready.
*************************************************************
“Scarlett, bathroom on the left.” Cover-girl almost shouted, the music droning loudly in both Joe women’s ears. Scarlett headed to the water closet, Cover-girl behind her. Two hours of dancing, or appearing to dance, only gave them four telephone numbers, one indecent proposal and one almost cat-fight with three drunk women. Scarlett was rubbing her temple as the two retreated into the facilities.
“God.” She hissed softly. “I hate cigarette smoke.” Scarlett turned on the water faucet to the sink and rinsed her face. Cover-girl handed her a paper towel.
“You going to be okay Red? You’ve been getting more and more headaches lately…” The tank driver asked with concern, as she pretended to ignore primping women and fix her lipstick. One sober woman stopped fussing with her hair, took a look at the two and sniffed “bitch" with a dismissing air. Cover-girl smirked to the counter intelligence specialist, who was leaning her forehead on the wall mirror. “She’s just mad her boy toy liked your company more than hers.” Then the smirk left Cover-girl's face. "You're not going to be okay."
“Any luck yet?” Stalker asked over the link.
“Negative.” Scarlett sighed, dismissing her condition, standing straight up and drying off her face.
“We comin’ down de rue chere.” Gung-ho added. “We’ll be there.”
Scarlett tossed the paper towel in the garbage and straightened her skirt. “Charlie Mike.” She then turned on her heel and walked back towards the noise and desperation outside. Cover-girl, knowing better than to talk Scarlett out of a mission, finished her pretend grooming and followed out the door.
*************************************************************
Remy LeBleu took a long sip of cognac and dealt the next card on the table, hidden beyond the bar of Chez Rouge. Most of the Parisian card sharks liked it here, due to the fact that the poker tables were an after-thought. His current opponent, however, was not one of these card sharks. “Jack of hearts homme. What’ll that give you?” His mocking red eyes, shielded behind dark sunglasses, challenged his opponent.
The older man took the card. “Deal me another,” his voice rasped.
“Dad, they’re not coming. Let’s go before this swamp rat takes all your euros. You remember how much aunt Zarana bitched the last time you lost at cards.”
The mutant known as Gambit stared at the girl in dreads, black leather and too much make-up. She had been perched like a fish-wife at his opponent’s side for the last two hours and she was now attempting to help the older man leave the table.
“And what do you know of poker ma petite?” Gambit asked with flippant air, finally done with the girl’s harping on his good run again her papa.
“Nothing and its’ staying that way. Come on Dad.” Zanya pulled on the older man’s arm, dragging him to his feet. The two left the table, the daughter supporting her unstable father’s steps. LeBleu raised his glass in a toast to the mysterious man and finished his drink, then collected the small pot in the middle of the table. Tucking the euros in his wallet the mutant resumed playing with the deck in his hands, watching the father and daughter. Interesting, he thought. Very interesting.
Zanya dragged her father to the bar and attempted to order black coffee in very loud English, but she was getting nowhere fast with the frenzied bar staff in the middle of the 2am crush. Ten minutes passed and she could feel her blood pressure getting higher from the anger on her face. She screamed again at the head bar man.
“You know,” a voice said in amused English, “calling them garcon is only going to make them ignore you more”.
Zanya twisted her head to curse out the woman to her left, only to find Cover-girl staring at her with a smile on her face.
“Found you.” The tank driver said, staring at the girl like a cat with a ball of string.
“Finally…” another voice agreed, wearily. Zanya twisted the other way to see Scarlett at her right. The red haired Joe measured the girl, eyes not lowering from Zanya’s hateful stare. “Let’s all go outside, shall we Zartan?” Scarlett added as Zanya lost the challenge and looked away. The older man nodded and pushed off the bar, walking on his own. Silently fuming, Zanya followed him with Scarlett and Cover-girl at her heels.
Once they moved out of the smoke-filled club and back to the rue the four relocated to a discreet area by a marble fountain. Zanya glared at the Joe women but kept her peace. Zartan sat on a bench with a heavy thud and reached into his jacket.
“How long did it take for you to find me?” He asked Scarlett, as Cover-girl glanced around for any threat. She knew Gung-ho and Shipwreck would be in support position soon.
“Long enough,” Scarlett said softly. “If you’d come out from cover earlier less people would have died.”
“But I didn’t have a choice!!” Zartan barked, startling a few patrons and encouraging Zanya to move protectively closer to him. A bouncer moved back into Chez Rouge, concern in his eyes. “I never have a choice.” He whispered, defeated.
Scarlett raised her hand to her temple at a sudden flash of pain, as Cover-girl hissed. “Bullsh..”
“There is always a choice.” Scarlett’s voice interrupted, suddenly very weak and tired. She lowered her hand back down and locked pleading blue eyes with Zartan. Please, do this, she silently willed him.
Over the channel the Joe men listened for the code word. Red fish or blue fish. Gung-ho and Shipwreck moved to the door of the club, watching the four and waiting. Storm Shadow and Snake-eyes tensed, close to the edge of the roof and unsure how Zartan would react.
“Stay cool ladies,” Stalker crooned softly, “Don’t scare him.” Boomer started to report the new development to Sparks, looking for advisement from Hawk.
Zartan regarded Scarlett with a long thoughtful look. After five minutes of painful silence, he finally nodded.
Their eyes and attention locked on the tableau of Zartan and Scarlett, the Joes all took a collective breath of relief.
A red glow grew from topiary beyond the club door. Gambit, having seen and heard everything, lowered his sun glasses and finished his cigarette.
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Date: 2008-06-04 06:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-23 03:10 am (UTC)