Pryde Goeth Before A Fall

Kitty Pryde is rescued by a very unlikely hero, one who won't let her forget the debt she now owes.

I don't own them – I wouldn't mind owning them – but I don't. Thank you Marvel for letting me play in your sandbox, there will be a few minor OC's in this story that are mine –but if you want them you can have them.

Chapter One – The Debt

Her head was pounding. She couldn't see a darn thing. She could hear water sloshing somewhere and chains rattling. She heard moans, it sounded like girls – lots of girls moaning. She tried to pull her hands in to wipe her eyes, see if she could see anything, but they wouldn't move. The metallic rattle of handcuffs and a metal bar told her she was trapped. She grinned – not for long.

She tried to phase – but every time she tried, her head hurt worse. She was still cuffed, whatever was blocking her eyes was still there, and she started cataloging other things. The water sloshing sounded big – like against the side of a boat. Whatever she was laying on was dirty – really dirty; it REEKED. She was wearing something coarse, not the dress she'd worn to the club. It was rough against her skin, and she could feel something sticky and damp between her thighs.

She moaned – God! She'd been raped. She didn't FEEL like she'd been raped, she wasn't sore, no pain from her hymen being ripped. She had been a little embarrassed by that fact the last few years, but there just hadn't been anyone she WANTED to have sex with. Bobby was okay – but she just didn't feel right about him after what he did to Rogue. Warren was cute, but too cute, too nice, to perfect. She'd kinda had a thing for John, but then he'd left, gone to the Brotherhood. Then there was Logan – but all the girls fantasized about Logan. She groaned and tried to stay focused.

She didn't feel like she'd been raped, maybe she hadn't. Maybe that feeling was from something else. Her ankles were chained to something else so she couldn't move very far in any direction.

"Ok Kitty – think. Where are you? Who could have done this?" She said out loud, her voice echoing in the room. She decided not to talk to herself again.

You are on some kind of boat. Chained to something and you can't move. Your head hurts so you had to have been hit. What's the last thing you remember?

The club – I was out with Mandi and Rena from the office. I'd just finished the project. I'm going home tomorrow. What happened at the club? Something?

CREED! I saw Sabretooth at the club – at a back table. The JERK! I bet he's behind this. OH GOD! IF he raped me – I'll phase him into a fucking wall. Wait – no I confronted him – demanded to know why he was there. He said business – he was talking to this guy. Then he asked me to dance – dared me to. So I danced with him. Then he went back to his table – and I went back to mine. I was a little nauseous from letting him touch me so I decided to go home. I walked back and was putting the key in the door when I got hit.

It could still be Creed! But I don't think so. They were speaking German I remember that. I don't think he speaks German, even if he does, I'd know his voice and I didn't hear him. Okay not Creed, who then?

Her head was pounding and she just needed to close her eyes for a moment.

XXXXXXXXXX

He'd been surprised when he saw her walking out of the crowd. Freik had been sitting across from him. He'd just told him to tell Tony he'd be there in a day or two when she stepped through the crowd, the green silk clinging to curves he'd never noticed when she was covered in black leather.

"The money is already wired Victor." Freik said as she walked up to the table.

"Victor Creed, isn't it." She said one hand on her hip.

"You know it is, Pryde." He snarled. He didn't need this upstart wanna be hero getting in his way, not on this job.

"I thought it was you. What are you doing in Munich?"

"Business – You?" He snapped.

"Business." He raked his eyes up and down her body. Definitely curves he hadn't noticed before. She always struck him as a kid. He heard familiar strains of music coming from the DJ and grinned at her.

"Dance with me." He said.

'NO!"

"I dare ya, what's the matter, kid ya scared?" He could see the process across her face before she held her hand out.

"Okay – one dance." He raised an eyebrow and nodded to Freik.

"Be right back." He took her hand and stood up, towering over her. The music was slow; he hadn't heard this song in years – Hotel California. What was it about these European dance clubs that kept recycling the old songs? He had to admit she could move, and his body was definitely taking notice. He hadn't realized this song was this long. He could feel his body temperature rising along with other parts of his anatomy. He could smell a faint scent of arousal from her as well – along with a huge dose of disgust. Poor Kitty cat, he hoped she had nightmares tonight. The song finally ended, and she pulled back with a hissed "There."

"Later, ShadowCat." He said softly, knowing she heard him. She glared back over her shoulder and went back to a table with two other girls he didn't recognize.

"I called him, he asked the sooner the better." Freik said as he sat back down. He just nodded, and noticed her slipping out the door.

"I'll get to him soon, I promise, but I need to check on something." He said getting up and slipping on his denim jacket. He'd gone casual for this meeting. Tony wasn't just a client, he was a friend. He followed her out the door, he planned on shouting to stop her but he couldn't tell which way she went right away. He took a sniff and followed her scent. She was moving, quickly away from the club.

He turned the corner just in time to see the car pull up behind her, and three men get out, one hit her, hard on the head from behind and they bundled her into the trunk of the car. One of them he recognized. Dante, one of DeMarco's men, well he had business with DeMarco later anyway. He went back to where he'd parked his truck and climbed in. The sleek black SUV was out of place in this town – but he wouldn't drive anything smaller, not enough headroom.

He made his way to DeMarco's boat on the Isar River. He hated the boat – hated meeting him here. It was where he "trained" the girls that he later sold. It always smelled of fear, and pain, and stale sex and death. Victor took his share of pleasure in those things – but not on a daily basis, and lately, his main pleasures had been in the hunt and kill, his sexual needs were on a back burner.

He walked into the main cabin of the pleasure boat. It had eight rooms below decks, and the large main cabin up top where DeMarco met clients – or employees. The rooms were monitored constantly. Creed hid the flinch when he saw her. They'd stripped her down, and dressed her in some sort of coarse covering. He didn't want DeMarco to see his interest, not yet. She was chained to a cot her hands cuffed to the far rail, her ankles cuffed to the bottom rail, a ragged cloth tied tightly around her head, and he could see blood seeping though it even on the black and white monitor. He hoped he could get her out of here before the training started.

"Victor – my friend, How nice to see you." DeMarco was a fat toad – except that was an insult to a good friend. His pockmarked face was split in a false smile. DeMarco wasn't glad to see him.

"You too, Franko." Victor said, taking his hand.

"Have you seen my new prize? American, pretty and virgin, I know KINGS who would pay for that combination."

"Virgin? American? Where'd you find her, a convent?" He smiled that smile that his enemies knew, the one that said 'I'd rather gut you than look at you.'

"No, walking the streets of the city. Just came in. I did the examination myself. I lost out once on a prize like that by turning her over to my men too soon. I have learned that lesson, no."

"I'd say you have. She's awfully skinny." He said looking at the monitor DeMarco pointed him to. He wanted to rip the man's throat out for even touching her. She deserved better than this. She might be the enemy – an X-Man but she deserved better than this slimy frog groping between her legs.

"You wanted to see me?" He said, turning his back on the monitor.

"I have a job I need done. Riaz has been a thorn in my side too long. His goons cost me millions when they raided one of my storehouses." DeMarco snarled. Victor cringed, he hated this man more than most and hoped someone someday would get enough money up to afford his services to end the miserable frog's life.

"I don't take jobs like that, you know that DeMarco." Victor said.

"He killed three of my men – left their wives widows with nothing arrested two of them and had them deported because they were not legal to be here, forced them to leave their children behind." Victor suppressed the shudder at the thought of what had happened to those children. If they were in DeMarco's hands no one could help them now. Victor knew it was a sob story, to try to gain his sympathy, but he had his own motives for wanting this contract.

"Fine – Riaz isn't gonna be easy. Fifteen." He snapped.

"Twelve."

Victor laughed in DeMarco's face. "Fifteen - NO less. It's my regular rate, you know that."

"Twelve and a half and choice of my girls."

"What the hell would I want with one of your girls; they've been fucked by everyone in town practically." He snarled. "Fifteen." He wasn't budging.

"Twelve and a half, and a cut on the profits for a year." That was almost tempting – but he just had a thing against slavery of any sort – reminded him too much of his pa's root cellar.

"He's the fuckin' Chief of Police for crying out loud. Fifteen is a steal."

DeMarco caught him glancing at Pryde on the monitor.

"Thirteen and the virgin." DeMarco said, slyly.

"No fuck's worth two million euro." Victor snapped, giving the slime ball all his attention.

"I could get that – easily in Egypt or Saudi." DeMarco said.

"I ain't in Egypt or Saudi, and I ain't that desperate." He said "FIFTEEN or no deal."

"American Virgin – you have to admit you are curious." DeMarco wheedled. He had to make a deal soon – and find a way to get Pryde out – she was really messing up the plan here.

"Thirteen – in my account In ADVANCE! And I'll take the girl when the job's done."

"Deal, I'll wire the money."

"I ain't doin shit until it's there. "

DeMarco opened his laptop and keyed in the account number Victor gave him. Victor waited, until a tone on his phone told him the money had transferred to his account.

"No bitch is worth two million." He snarled. "Just make sure she's cleaned up – I don't like smelling other men on my fuck." He knew it would be rough for her, but at least that wound would be sanitized. DeMarco grinned and nodded. He spun on his heel and left the boat.

"Tony better appreciate this." He muttered. He hated working for DeMarco.

He drove to a large house outside the city proper. The lights were on in the study, and two uniformed men stood outside the front door. They nodded and smiled as he walked inside. This wasn't going to be easy. Tony was one of the few cops he trusted, hell one of the few cops who trusted him. It wouldn't be easy killing him.

He walked into the study. There were two glasses of well-aged scotch sitting on a table in front of the fire. Anthony Riaz sat in one of the chairs, a brocade smoking jacket covering his chest.

"How ya been, Tony?"

"Not good, Vic, what about you?"

"Been better. Not likin' this job."

"You are the only one I trust with it." Tony took a long swig of the scotch. Victor could smell the disease eating him alive, he stank of death. "I don't want to die in my bed. I don't want to be wasted away by something from inside."

"It's still hard, Tony. I don't like killing friends. I have too few of those as it is."

"I know. Did you go to DeMarco?"

"Yeah. Took his money too, it should be in my account by now." He said.

"Good – you will have two hours after you kill me to report back to him and get out of Munich."

"I need more time – there's a loose end I need to tie up." He said

"I wish I could give it to you."

"I NEED it. He has a girl – I know her, she's part of the deal. I need to get her to safety first."

"A friend?"

"An enemy." He said softly.

"That doesn't sound like an enemy." Tony said with a grin.

"She is. Just too – I can't believe I'm saying this word – cute to leave in DeMarco's hands."

"Cute." Tony laughed a hearty chuckle.

"Yeah, cute." Victor shook his head and laughed with him.

"Fine I will see what I can do about slowing things down, three hours is the most I might be able to give you."

"Three hours will do."

"Remember – you won't be able to operate in Munich for a while – and will probably have to lay low after this."

"Goin back home – have some work on the mutant front, don't really care if there's an Interpol arrest warrant out for me." He grinned.

"Let me make some calls." Tony stood up, leaning heavily on a cane he walked to his desk. Victor sat and watched the fire. Cute, yeah she was cute, in an annoying pixyish sort of way. She hadn't been cute tonight at the club. She'd been downright hot; he was still trying NOT to think about the way her body had moved against his. And he'd wished her nightmares, but not anything like this.

Tony came back to the chair. "My men won't check on me for two hours after you leave, it will take about an hour after that for DeMarco to be raided. That's all the time I can give you. Everything is in place, they have already traced the money from your account back to his, and they are ready when you are."

"The question is, when you are?" Victor said.

"I wish we had time for one more game of chess." He said softly.

"If you want, it's your party, boss." Victor grinned.

"We don't have time. I wish we did. I'm ready when you are." Victor didn't feel the least bit foolish hugging the other man. They'd been friends for years. Tony had called him when he found out about the cancer, begged him to do this. He had refused at first. Mercy killings weren't his style, but you could only say no so many times to a good friend, and when the plan to take down DeMarco entered the picture, even Victor had agreed it needed to be done.

"Good bye, Tony." He whispered, before snapping the man's neck. He sat him gently in the chair, took a picture, for DeMarco, and then reached out and closed his eyes. He wasn't ashamed of the tear that streaked down his face. He hated killing friends.

He slipped out the front door, the men smiling at him as he passed. They knew – knew why he was here. They were hand picked just for tonight. He had three hours to get out of town. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed a number he never thought he'd use.

"Xaviers." Said a cultured woman's voice; the weather witch.

"Get your plane to Munich – Kitty Pryde's gonna need a ride home." He snarled into the phone.

"CREED! If you've hurt her…" He cut her off

"She's alive – for now. I'll leave her at an airstrip outside the city, near the river. Pick her up in two hours." He snarled and hung up.

That should get them moving, now he just had to get her and get her there.

The drive back to the boat was quiet, no sirens, not yet. He climbed back aboard and into the main cabin.

"Done?"

"Yeah." He showed DeMarco the picture.

"I never doubted you. She's ready, if you want to take her here."

"No – too many people around know who I am, I'll take her with me – dump the body in the river when I'm done."

Even DeMarco blanched at the callous way he said it.

"Very well. I'll have her brought up. I even made sure only the women cleaned her, not another man has touched her since you saw the monitor.

"Better not have." He snarled. "My SUV's by the slip, have them load her in the passenger side. Is the money there?"

"Of course, do you doubt me?"

"I think you're trying to distract me with a piece of ass."

"Never. Have a drink with me."

"NO! I told you, I was seen, I need ta get out. Just get the pussy loaded and I'll be on my way."

"Very well, I hope to do business with you again soon Victor."

"You too Franko." He snarled as he left the cabin. He walked to the truck. She was cringing against the passenger door, trying to work one of her hands out of the cuffs that held her to the door handle.

"Here, let me help you with that." He said softly.

"CREED!" She snapped, he could see her reeling from the sudden movement.

"Don't move – you have a concussion I think." He said softly, unlocking the cuffs. She tried to reach up to pull the blindfold off.

"DON'T!" He snarled.

"Why not?"

"I don't want you to see where you've been."

"What?"

"Don't ask; just don't take it off until I tell you." He snarled at her. She cringed in the seat. He didn't want her afraid, not now. He'd just saved her ass – a little gratitude might be nice, damned ungrateful kid. He threw the truck into gear and drove off. He knew exactly where he was taking her; the airfield was one he'd used a few times. Hopefully the geeks would be there soon.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"Kidnapping me?"

"Fuck kid! I just saved your ass."

"What."

"Those were slavers I bought you from, idiot. You were on your way to a nice harem in the Middle East somewhere. Just be happy I saw you and had the money to get you the fuck out." He snarled at her. "NOW shut the fuck up and let me drive."

He pulled in black on black, the outline of the jet sitting on the runway, two forms silhouetted in front of it in the moonlight. He swung the truck so the passenger side was to the jet, and reached over and pulled off the blindfold.

"Get out."

"What?"

"GET OUT!" He snapped.

She shook her head, and nearly passed out.

"FUCK!" He reached over and opened the passenger door, and pushed her out onto the grass. He heard her moan as she landed.

"You owe me one, Pryde. YOU OWE ME!" He snarled, pulling the door shut and driving off. He didn't even know which geeks they'd sent to get her; he just knew she was in safe hands.