The X-Project

At the end of her not really seclusion, Wanda decides she needs a bit of company. Strange projects and is able to provide the last bit of comfort she really needs before facing the mansion again.



With a final, nearly violent tug of the hairbrush, Wanda finally finished (or gave up, however you wanted to look at it) brushing out the wet strands of hair. She'd finished up a late evening swim and then retreated back to the woods where she had set up camp. Soon enough she'd return back to the Mansion but for right now, she was more than content to stay out here.

It had taken the better part of Friday evening to settle the emotional rollercoaster that her mental
state had been and with that quieting down, so had the slight upheavals of power. Sitting cross legged in front of the fire, Wanda had a sudden urge to see someone. Not just any one but...

Deep breath and her eyes closed half way as she did as Stephen had suggested to her in e-mail. And waited.

Long moments passed, the silence deepening, broken only by the crackling of the fire, and the small noises of the wood's creatures about their small lives. Then there was a touch, feather-light, against her cheek, the barest sensation of fingers brushing back her hair. "You look tired," Stephen said, sitting beside her. There was the faintest trace of transparency about him, the only indication that he wasn't actually there.

Eyes opened the rest of the way and she smiled at him. Half way between what the things she needed--here and yet not. "I am," she said, not bothering to hide it. He had probably already spotted the rends down her back--she'd been unable to rewrap them after the bath. Thankfully they were on the way to healing. "It has been a very, very long week. Thank you for 'coming' out here..."

"Exceedingly long," he agreed, the worry plain on his face. "If I hadn't sensed you needed the time for yourself, I would have been by your side. Fussing, I believe Amanda calls it." Insubstantial fingers brushed the plane of her shoulder blade, stopping short of the rending gashes marking her skin. "I wish I was a healer. These..." He stopped, realising just how desperate that fight had been.

"I do not generally turn my nose up when attractive men wish to fuss at me," Wanda teased softly and then glanced over her shoulder at the marks. "I slipped up, was not expecting him--to be that fast. Shallow wounds, they will heal in time. Unlike others." Her hands clenched at each other tightly as she fought to breath normally. "I do not think I was expecting my first mission to be like that."

A part of her knew that Scott had to be worrying and she made a mental note to stop by and see him when she resurfaced.

"Calm, Wanda." Again that not-quite touch of his hands, this time wrapping around hers, tingling slightly as he focussed on projecting calm to her. "Tell me, if you want to. Or not, if it's too soon. But either way, I am here." A faint smile touched his lips. "Or not here, but you understand what I mean."

Her lips quirked slightly at that. She'd gone out, alone, and tried to face what she had done. The hex bolt--God. But in the end, maybe she needed to actually open up. She'd opened up with Cain but he had guessed, rightly, more than she had told. Her brother used to say that she was the most closed open person he knew. Glancing up, she swallowed hard. "How much do you think it changes you when you've actually killed someone, in self-defense or no?" she finally breathed, taking some comfort on the tingling sensation on her hands.

"Death changes us all," Stephen said, floating himself around so he was sitting opposite her. The
change is position meant his projection was half sitting in the fire, but he paid no attention. All
that was focussed on Wanda. "You wouldn't be the person you are if you did not feel this, ~dearest~." He used the Romany term of affection. "I don't know what the circumstances were, but I do know you would not have done so without there being no other option. It is small comfrt, I know, but all there is to offer." The sensation of his hands enfolding hers intensified, as if he was pushing his concentration into that area, and his outline blurred even more for a moment. "But this does not make a monster of you."

A part of her relaxed and unwound at the endearmeant and Wanda enjoyed the feeling around her hands. "Mentally I would have to agree with you. It is just getting my emotions in order..." Which had always been the hardest part. "I swore to myself that I would not use my powers to kill but I had no choice. If I had hesitated, I would not be here right now, I know this for a fact." The slight marks on her neck throbbed in memory of that barely ducked bullet. "Have I mentioned that sometimes I hate having this much power and this much ability to harm?"

"So do all who good people who have such power." Stephen hid the fear he felt at the knowledge he'd
come so close to losing her, just when they'd really found each other. "Those who enjoy having the ability to cause so much harm... well, you know where that path leads." He didn't mention Magento, but the name hung between them. "And perhaps it is selfish of me, but I am glad you didn't hesitate. It might seem presumtuous, but to have lost you..." He brushed the marks on her neck with his fingers, again wishing for Amanda's healing skill.

Wanda closed her eyes for a second, concentrating on deep breathing and then smiled softly. "I think I will be more glad that I did not as time goes on," she confessed, grimacing. "I value my life and the people..." She grinned a little at him at that. "...too much to simply go down without a fight. I'm going to hope that I am never in a position like that again." Leaning forward, she smiled at the light touch on her cheek. "I forsee a good deal of training in my future--once I stop impersonating the walking bruise."

"You and I shall both hope that." Privately Stephen was considering protection charms, and figuring out which ones would not be influenced unduly by Wanda's power. A surprise, and soon. "And I must say, black and blue does not really suit you." This last was said with a gentle teasing smile, unimaginable to anyone else who knew Stephen Strange as a rather uptight academic.

A laugh escaped her at that and she winked at him. "No, red suits me _far_ better than black and blue," she responded, feeling some of that tension start to leak from her muscles. Finally. "Hopefully that particular coloring will fade in a few days. Though I will probably have some reminders from this fight for a while to come. Scars are sexier on men, I find, but I think I can live with that."

"Talk to Amanda - she has any number of herbal remedies that don't require her to use much in the way
of magic. It's something of a hobby of hers." Relief crossed his face as he saw some of that darkness lift from her eyes. Again he traced the mark on her neck. "I'm afraid you'll find me terribly dull, Wanda. My only war wounds are the occasional nasty papercut." This light banter was coming easier to him, he found. Perhaps it was because she had a lovely laugh, and he wanted to hear it more often.

Wanda laughed at that and reached up to touch as much as she could his hand. "I think I can 'put up' with dull," she teased. "You are probably not as dull as you think you are, Stephen." The light smile suddenly turned a bit wicked. "We need to get together soon like we promised, to test that theory..."

If astral projections could blush, Stephen's would have. As it was, his form wavered violently, as if his concentration had suddenly been occupied elsewhere. "Wench," he said, but there was a glint in his eyes that echoed her wicked smile. "Well, I am a man of his promises... As soon as you rejoin society? Although the idea of sneaking onto the grounds and joining you here is very tempting."

Giggling at him, Wanda grinned. "Very tempting indeed. But I should be rejoining society tomorrow morning, I have appointments I cannot stray from. The afternoon and evening are free, if you wish to take them...?"

The expression on Stephen's face would have been considered a pout on anyone else. "Faculty meeting," he said with a doleful sigh. "I have to try and get funding for the next year. It'll be horribly dull. The next day?"

"Stupid faculty meeting," she teased and then nodded, looking pleased. "I shall have to wait with baited breath until then." The teasing she did towards him was filled with amusement and fondness, and she was glad he was able to see that.

"Indeed it will be a stupid faculty meeting," he agreed. "And I'll have no concentration - the thought of you waiting will be terribly distracting." He brushed his thumb gently against her lips, the barest sensation of touch. "But until then. Look after yourself, ~dearest~. Go see that wayward student of mine - if she insists on missing my classes, then the least she can do is give you something for those gashes."

Leaning forward, Wanda returned the favor and brushed her lips against his cheek, never minding the odd sensation of not quite there. "~I promise~," she said, smiling at him. "And I promise to bug Amanda for some help, even if it is just a potion. And try and stay awake during the meeting, at least."

"Yes dear," he said with a slightly bemused look - there was something soothingly domestic about the whole scene, odd as it was. The bemusement came from the fact he actually liked it. So much for the crusty bachelor. "I'll have to go - it tends to startle my students to find me sitting there apparently not breathing."

"I wonder why," she said, a bit dryly. "Take care, Stephen, and I look forward to our date."