CATACLYSM || X-Men

2| bad moon rising

Virginia Beach, 1962

"All right, get out of here," Logan nodded, pulling his bag further up on his shoulder. It had taken him around six years to return to her, having only stayed with her for a week last time. And now, he was saying goodbye again.

"Hey," she paused, reaching into her pocket, and lifting up a coin between two fingers. "Take this."

"What—"

"Just take it," she waved her other hand, placing the metal object onto his palm. "If you need my help, hold it. It's a— souvenir of my long life," she smiled, leaning out the window of her car. "Trust me."

"If I can't keep surviving, you mean?" he asked.

"If you need some help from a dame," she shrugged, making the corner of his lips tug up into a small smile. She couldn't help but feel proud for his reaction.

"All right. Now get out of here," he repeated, and she sat back into her seat.

"Don't die," she said before she changed gear and pulled into the road, leaving him behind.

Dropping off the car, she paid for the rest of the rental charge, and made her way across the road into the only bar she could point out. She had a couple of hours before sundown, plenty of time to perhaps read, and definitely to get one drink in.

Getting comfortable at the bar, she opened her book, and settled in for at least an hour, a glass of whiskey in front of her. She had nowhere to go, no rush whatsoever, which was why she didn't expect her evening to take such a turn.

Rose had always been the one to call Moira. That's just how it worked, and how they had both accepted it. The agent had no way of contacting her, and she also never felt the need to have the woman followed. She knew she owed her more than the other way around.

Knowing all this, Rose never had a huge wall up when she was out and about. It made her a very easy target in the eyes of two men, humans, who were just a little shifty. As one would expect, the intelligence community has to know how to blend in.

"Excuse me, ma'am," the address made her roll her eyes, lifting the glass of whisky to her lips as she ignored them, instead turning back to the book in her hands with a halfhearted hum.

"Miss?"

"Not miss, not ma'am. If you don't know my name, leave me the hell alone," she replied simply, choosing to not play around, and leaving her accent bare. There were times she changed it to fit in. After all, blending in had become a habit of hers. She was definitely better than the two agents behind her. Their suits were a dead giveaway, and so told her there was no need to hide who she was. They already knew. It didn't mean she couldn't have any fun, though.

"Agent MacTaggert has been trying to find you," the bigger one said. He looked just a little more intimidating than his partner, but Rose had faced worse. After more than two millennia? This was nothing compared to wars, fires, and plagues.

"Tell her that's not how this works," she replied, turning a page and drinking more from the amber liquid. She gave a subtle nod to the bartender to reassure that everything was safe, before her eyes returned to the pages.

"I'm afraid this isn't up for discussion," the thin one barked, seemingly with more bite than the other.

"Come on, fellas. I just want to finish my book and my drink. I'm not here for trouble," she said with a small smirk, seeing his reflection become more agitated. Maybe Logan's attitude was rubbing off on her.