Last Resort

[Kat Harriman]

"Tom?"

The knocking became louder.

"You in there, bruv?"

Kat was pretty sure she could make out the sounds of zombie grumbles when she pressed her ear against the door, but admittedly that could just have been Tom snoring. Under normal circumstances she might have left him in peace, but this was important: and not for her usual selfish reasons.

"Look, Tom, if you're there..."

She sighed.

"That Diana girl from the spa, she came to check if Alice was okay, and she told me what you did. What the fuck, Tom? She said you like, nearly killed a guy and Alice stormed off, and now I can't find her, and neither of your phones are working, and -"

She fumbled in her jeans pocket.

"I have the spare key card you gave Alice. I'm coming in. Just... don't be naked, okay?"

[Tom Harriman]

No.

Tom had never felt a word so strongly before. It boiled up inside him; not angry, but resolute; every fibre of his being joined in a chorus of insistence that Katrina would not be permitted to ruin this moment. Tom wouldn't let her barge in; wouldn't let her scare Alice out of his arms. This was all too much, and it was all too perfect; he wouldn't let a single thing disrupt that.

And so he did the only thing he could think of.

He pushed.

This time, it wasn't a person who bore the brunt of his powers, but rather the door. No matter how many times Kat tried to ram the keycard into the door lock, no matter how many times the indicator flashed green, Tom refused to allow the door to move even a millimetre. It was more than he had ever done voluntarily before: the most sustained use of his powers without anger or instinct being involved. His focus was so intense it almost hurt; but every time he felt his resolve waver, the weight of Alice's head on his shoulder redoubled his resolve. Nothing was getting through that door.

Eventually Kat grew tired; Tom caught a few snatches of curse-filled mumbling about fucking swipe cards and why can't they just use keys like normal people? before it turned silent, Kat presumably moving off to resume her search. He felt bad not at least offering her a little reassurance of Alice's well-being, but it was either that or ruin everything; it wasn't even a choice.

"Sorry, my sister can be such a pain in the ass at -"

Tom hesitated at the total lack of response from Alice. He moved slowly, carefully, enough to see the closed eyes and relaxed jaw of someone gripped by sleep. He couldn't help a smile; couldn't help the wave of elation that flowed through him as his mind came to terms with what was going on.

Carefully, he reached for the room's phone, and punched in the number for the front desk.

"Hi? Yeah, this is Room 314. I ordered take-out Chinese a little earlier, but it turns out that we -" His lips were too busy smiling all over again to speak uninterrupted. "- we're not hungry after all. It's all bought and paid for... you guys help yourself."

The phone was settled back in place; Tom shifted ever so slightly, enough to click off the TV, discard the remote, and get his posture just right for the hours ahead. He wasn't tired, but he didn't care: he wasn't going anywhere, wasn't going to move a single muscle lest he ruin their accidental first night spent together in each other's arms.

Gently, he planted another kiss on Alice's forehead. "Sweet dreams, princess," he whispered.

[Alice Kelly]

Morning was, like always, hazy and hard to wake up to. Grogginess always precluded the strange feeling of wondering just where exactly she was for a split second before her mind finally dredged up memories of the night before. The smile of the content was half imagined before Alice realized that something wasn't quite adding up...

She pushed herself up from the bed slightly and looked around before realizing that she wasn't mistaken... Tom wasn't there. The silence that filled the hotel room only proved the point. For a moment she thought about what all that meant, thought about calling out to him in case her brain hadn't quite managed to pull itself from sleep yet and he actually was somewhere nearby. Thankfully she didn't quite get to the panic stages of irrational thought when her hand suddenly connected with and partially crumpled a piece of paper next to her. Alice pushed her hair back as she sat up and willed her eyes to cooperate in such a tenuous task of reading before caffeine.

"Gone for archery. Would have woken you, but couldn't bear to disturb something so beautiful. Coffee on the dresser. See you soon, princess. xx"

So it hadn't all been in her head, after all. Tom always did wake up far earlier than her, so naturally it had made sense for him to find something to occupy his time while she stayed dead to the waking world. Alice read the note a few times, not bothering to hide the silly girlish silliness that completely took hold of her - she was alone after all and really who was going to judge or even stop her from grinning and contemplating hanging on to the note forever. More to the point, he'd prepped the coffee maker and told her right where it was. Alice couldn't help but feel that maybe Tom was too good for her, but for the moment she was going to enjoy it for all it was worth.

[Tom Harriman]

The bowstring creaked.

Tom breathed; not a shallow breath, but a slow and steady one that drained his lungs completely. He held, string drawn back to his cheek, an eye sighting down the shaft of his nocked arrow. The target loomed in the distance; he sighted on the bullseye; shifted high and left to compensate for the wind and the parabola. He held his focus. Held his breath. Released.

The arrow lanced through the target, a few centimetres left of dead centre. Good enough for the Olympics; not good enough for the streets of Los Angeles.

He rolled his shoulders, muscles a little stiff and tender from the night before. The arm was protesting having been lain on all night; the rest of him wasn't. He grabbed another arrow; lined it up on the string. Okay so sure, not everything about last night had been fantastic: the whole nearly killing a guy thing had been a bit of a fiasco. And sure, everyone at the archery range was whispering under their breath, keeping their distance and calling him 'freak'. On the upside, he'd only broken a table, and the resort was insured against acts of drunken violence; and when he'd wandered down to reception, the woman behind the desk had confirmed he was "The free Chinese man", and assured him that the management would be more than happy to cover any costs incurred while teaching misogynistic assholes a lesson.

He drew back the next arrow; thought back to the restaurant, and then to the room; thought back to his powers. His mutant ability had always been minimal: barely useful for anything beyond giving his martial arts or his arrows a little extra oomph. He'd mapped it out in a lab, and as expected his powers had always followed an x² decay. But last night there had been range; and he'd had both strength and control at that range unlike anything he'd mustered before. The science part of his mind pointed out the obvious common denominator.

Alice.

Sighting down the arrow, he let his mind drift back to Alice. It wasn't difficult: if before Alice had constantly been just the other side of a door in his mind, now she was leaning against the door frame, waiting to smile at him every time he turned his thoughts in her direction. He did so now; held her in his mind's eye as he aimed and fired.

The arrow buried itself so deep in the target's dead centre that the fletching almost touched the paint.

[Diana Latona]

"Nice shot."

As Harriman turned to face her, Diana put her hands up in the international signal for I come in peace. This wasn't exactly the time or place to pick a fight and while this Tom guy certainly didn't seem like he'd hit a woman, Diana still couldn't quite get the mental image of what he'd done to her twin out of her head. Which really left her in an awkward position. What Sol had said the previous night seemed like it would work out but they'd both met enough people in their lifetime to know that it was sometimes hard to predict these things.

"Easy there live-wire, I'm not here to start anything."

Diana bowed her head slightly in order to look at him over the rims of her sunglasses and gave a small shrug of her shoulder as if that coupled with the fact she still looked like she was going for the whole unarmed, seriously thing would explain her perfectly.

[Tom Harriman]

"Right -"

Tom could feel the anger boiling away beneath the surface already. Her voice was a different pitch to Solomon's, but it had the same accent, the same southern twang. He fought his hardest trying to keep it contained; focused on Alice, remembered her eyes, remembered the way he'd felt the first time they'd kissed. The anger retreated a little; not much, but enough.

He lined up another shot. Breathed. Aimed. Fired.

"- starting things is your brother's job."

It made no sense. Solomon was just some guy; some stranger he'd known less than a day, who'd turned out to be different than he'd seemed at first impression. Tom had been beating himself up all morning, demanding an explanation from himself as to why he'd gone so overboard, so overprotective. It felt like there was more going on than just his feelings for Alice; he couldn't quite shake the notion that he was being played.

"Let me guess," he grunted. "You need my details for your brother's medical insurance."

[Diana Latona]

She would have groaned if she could have, instead her expression simply went from hopeful to exasperated. Diana let out half a chuckle at the whole thing before guardedly crossing her arms over her chest and pointed at him slightly.

"Good one." It wasn't quite deadpan, but it was hard to really express that sort sarcastic drivel without sounding like a total bitch and sadly 'total bitch' was exactly what she wasn't trying to avoid at the moment.

With the line delivered she pushed her sunglasses back up onto her nose before letting her hand fall to rest like the other, drumming casually against the back of her arm.

"Yeah, not so much. It's going to sound cheap but I guess I'm here to apologize for him. For us, really. Sol's really not like that..." A small cringe marred her words as she realized it sounded like she was about to gear up towards the land of excuses. One foot was already in the grave, though - might as well continue on. "Not that I'm saying he's blameless, but we've just kinda been hit with some rough family issues lately and he's taking it sorta hard. And by hard I mean on everyone else around him. You're looking at his favorite verbal punching bag so trust me, I know how he can be. So... yeah, sorry about last night. Hell, he probably would have said so himself except when I saw him this morning he was kinda spitting blood and nursing a nasty hangover."

[Tom Harriman]

Excuses. Everyone had excuses. Tom had excuses. Solomon had excuses. Diana had excuses for him.

He loosed another arrow; winced as his frustration sent it off target, missing the bullseye by half an inch. His shoulders slumped and his arms relaxed, bow hanging at his side as he mustered in and out another breath. He turned slowly to face Diana, his back protesting a little: the muscles in his shoulders had been more tense than they should have been when he started, and had taken a beating from the archery for their trouble. Honestly, he was a little glad for the pain; that he felt like he deserved.

"Look -" He started; stopped before his tongue stumbled out anything informal. "- Miss Latona. Your brother got drunk and shot his mouth off a few times; I beat him round the face, and pinned him to a table with the power of my mind. I don't deserve an apology, and I don't want one: not from him, and especially not from his innocent bystander sister who, I'm guessing, finds herself apologising on his behalf a lot."

He felt a note of anger swell at the back of his words; forced himself to stop and sigh before the riptide dragged him under again.

"If anything, the apologies should be going in the opposite direction; I'm not ready to do that just yet. So, if you don't mind?"

He gestured down range towards the target, pointing at it with the tip of his bow. "Unless you're planning on gearing up and loosing a few arrows yourself, I'd rather vent my frustration into inanimate painted circles in peace."

[Diana Latona]

'Innocent bystander', that was a first. It took Diana a bit of self control to not laugh out loud when Harriman had called her that. If it had been someone else maybe she would have nudged them a bit, at least make it seem like she was laughing off the entire conversation, but there was something lurking just at the edge of his words that brought a halt to it. Diana had half wondered if she should just leave it there, march back to the room after rounding up some food and ask when the hell this trip was going to start being fun, but damn it - that wasn't the plan.

Her eyes followed Tom's gesture down range and a slow smirk spread across her lips before she looked back at him. "Well, if you're going to be that way..."

A few steps were taken away and she waited until Tom had turned back towards the targets before, what looked more like a gym bag than anything else, was unslung from her shoulder. A zipper pull and some rummaging around procured an arm guard was that strapped on before Diana almost tenderly removed a simple recurve bow - much like the one Tom had been supplied by the hotel - only featuring, what Di had decided to be, a rather sexy black paint job that looked like frost was creeping up around the grip.

She hadn't bothered glancing over to see if Harriman had even noticed she hadn't walked away fully - he'd get the point soon enough. A roll of her neck was the only motion she allowed herself before the first arrow was nocked, drawn back, and sent down rage to impale the target just to the left of the one Tom had been picking on. First shot was always sloppy, even if she gauged she'd hit only about four fingers distance from the center. Di shook her head, not so much to show disappointment, but more in wondering if she quite honestly was the only person who measured all small distances the same she did her whiskey.

"So here's how this is gonna go." Her eyes were trained on the target as another arrow was readied. "You're going to accept this damn apology whether you like it or not, but we'll make it interesting. How about best out of five wins? I beat you - you buy me coffee and breakfast since I had to stay up all last night listening to my brother bemoan bruised ribs. You beat me and me and Sol pony out the cash for an actually nice dinner - all the bells and whistles at a joint that you have to wear a tie to - for you and Alice, sans Latonas."

Te second arrow was released and planted into the target just to the right of her last shot before Diana cast a glance over at Tom, the sly smile that had started forming earlier now firmly in place.

[Tom Harriman]

Tom let out a sigh; more of resignation than frustration. Privacy was what he was after, not for his own sake but more for those unfortunate enough to be around him; that was the only thing that had managed to drag him away from Alice's side. He wanted nothing more to take out his frustrations on an inanimate slab of painted rope and straw; but if Diana wanted to force him to direct it at her ego and pride as well, then fine.

He readied an arrow; drew in a breath as his eyelids fluttered closed, ears listening to the slow swell and fall of the breeze, learning the pattern of the gentle gusts. His eyes opened narrowly; watched the way the grass bent towards his right shoulder; the way the branches of the trees in the background swayed. He adjusted his aim, ever so slightly, and drew in a breath, mentally consolidating every last vestige of air, energy, anything his body contained into one tight cluster in the centre of his chest. He felt the wind gust again; felt it fall silent. His fingers twitched.

The arrow sailed forward, the collected orb of mental energy chasing hot on it's tail like a hadouken. Perfectly aimed, the headless practice arrow slammed into the rear of his earlier bullseye, hammering it clean through the back of the target and nestling itself comfortably into the hole left behind.

He glanced in Diana's direction, and flashed a not quite entirely forced smile.

"We like Italian."

[Alice Kelly]

The bad thing about waking up where you didn't keep your stuff was, well, waking up without your stuff. The first cup of coffee had been enough to clear most of the morning haze and had been drawn out while rereading the note that Tom had left her. The second had been purely to bolster courage and attempt some form of normalcy, only being half finished before she finally scooped up the dress from the night before and finally left the room was that was supposed to have been only Tom's, which left her taking the short trip down the hall to the room was that was supposed to be hers. And Katrina's.

Despite everything Alice felt a pang of guilt as she began searching the small purse she had taken along on the date for the key card. She was supposed to hang out with Kat, they were the closest thing to a friend that the other hand. It hadn't purely been for polite reasons that the three of them had gotten separate rooms divvied up by gender. A small frown etched itself across her lips as she began anticipating all the excuses she could make while trying to juggle everything in her hands. Not to mention the fact the key to the room was doing its best impersonation of the invisible man.

"Come on... I know I had you when I left."

[Kat Harriman]

Kat's super-hearing was nothing to do with her mutant abilities.

Rather, it was more to do with the fact that she was on a good day unrelentingly curious, and on a bad one hideously nosy and intrusive, with almost no respect - or often even comprehension - for people's boundaries. Also, she was the daughter of someone who, she'd come to learn, was basically a spy; not only did that explain a lot about the in-hindsight strange things that had happened in her youth, but had also honed her senses so that she would notice daddy's stealth approach down the corridor so she could power down the monitor and dive back into bed every time he tried to sneak in and catch her playing World of Warcraft at four in the morning.

On top of that, Kat was completely wired: the seven cups of coffee she'd drunk over the course of the night had left her twitchy, and aside from getting up to pee what seemed like every twenty minutes, she hadn't strayed from her perch on the foot of the hotel bed, knees hugged to her chest, rocking slowly backwards and forwards. If a pin had dropped in the adjoining room, she would have heard it. So when her missing best friend and roommate spoke outside the door not three meters from her face?

Oh yeah. She heard that.

The door was torn open in less than a second, and Kat pounced like a psychotic panther, snatching Alice into a hug so intense that it literally lifted the tiny Canadian off her feet.

"Oh-my-god-I-was-so-worried," Kat slurred, face shoved into Alice's shoulder. "I couldn't find you, and I couldn't find Tom, and, and, and your phones weren't working and then I went to the restaurant and they said there was a fight and I found out where the room was and Tom hurt that pretty man's face and you still weren't there and I just, just, just -"

Her stream of words shattered into an exhausted slump that finally let Alice stand on her own feet again. Deflated, Kat's voice finally slowed. "- I'm just glad you're okay."

[Alice Kelly]

At first there was shock, then that seed of guilt she'd planted at realizing she'd left Kat alone started to grow, slowly pushing itself to the surface, breaking to the top when Katrina had embraced her and started rambling on in a tone that Alice couldn't remember the last time she'd heard a person used. Worried.

"I'm fine. It was just a rough night." The words came out meekly. "I'm sorry I didn't call once..."

Once what, Alice? Once you got to her brother's room? Once you both were done with the emotional roller coaster? Once you woke up this morning? She hesitated as the thoughts tumbled in her head, trying to find a spot between reason and intuition that could account for why it was that Alice hadn't even remotely considered what Kat's reactions to everything last night would be. She knew the answer, and as much as everything she had spoken with Tom about had been important for both of them, it still managed to seemed selfish somehow when you put the third person into the picture.

"...things had settled."

[Kat Harriman]

Kat wasn't entirely ready to release Alice just yet; especially since she'd begun to realise that the shoulder onto which she'd dumped her her head was surprisingly comfortable and padded. She nuzzled a little into the sweatshirt, severely contemplating crashing out right there and then for a long overdue nap. It was kind of a surprise really: Kat's shoulders hadn't looked nearly so comfortable in the dress she was wearing last -

Kat's brow tugged into a frown, her steam-powered brain finally heating up enough to start processing thoughts. Last time she had seen Alice, she had been wearing considerably less than she currently was: a sexy dress which, Kat noted, she was now currently holding in her hands. Which meant she'd changed. But quite clearly, she hadn't changed here: Kat's overnight vigil wouldn't have allowed that to go unnoticed, and even if she had lapsed into sleep, Alice wouldn't have any reason to come back to their room still carrying the dress.

Paranoia sunk in.

Things had settled.

She recoiled away, aghast, her jaw falling open in in Scooby Doo terror. "Oh my god," she muttered; her eyes widened, her gaze frantically checking up and down the corridor. "Oh my god!" she said again, in a whisper that somehow managed to be louder than when she'd actually spoken. "You -" she struggled with the words. "You spent the night, with Tom?"

Kat wasn't sure what she was supposed to be feeling right now; her expression decided to play it safe and throw up just about everything, from wincing disgust at the mental images that notion conjured up to giddy, squealing schoolgirl glee to eye-rolling relief at the fact that maybe the people she lived with would finally stop being so awkward around each other.

"Oh my god," she muttered again; the more horrified emotions stepped to the front of the stage. "Where you two going at it when I came to his room?"

[Alice Kelly]

Alice was at a loss for words. She'd never been good at confrontations and here was a big one that her mind couldn't even wrap around. Some part of her genuinely wanted to be offended, some part horribly embarrassed, the rest wanting to just shrink away and try and laugh it off. When they merged together all that came out was a horrified choking sound before Alice spat out the one word that seemed to answer everything.

"No!"

No sooner had it left than Alice felt the ability to rationalize things return to her and her head quickly shook.

"He's not like that, Kat. I'm not like that. We just talked!" Alice let out a quick breath and ran a hand through her hair. "We just talked."

[Kat Harriman]

Kat's face scrunched up into a look of narrow-eyed scepticism which probably would have conveyed her mindset pretty well were it not for the fact that the corner of her right eyelids had begun to spasm like crazy from the lack of sleep. She squinted tighter, hoping to bring it back under control; unfortunately that transformed her disapproving sister look into more of an about-to-sneeze pirate.

"Let me get this straight."

Her fingertips pinched at the bridge of her nose, trying to forestall the headache that she hoped was because of this situation and not the probable coffee overdose she'd consumed.

"Tom has been in love with you pretty much since the moment he saw you. Things happen, he finally admits it to you, you go back to his room... and you talk? Just... talk. All night long."

An exasperated sigh escaped.

"God damn it, Hollywood," she muttered. "Stop giving me unrealistic expectations of romance."

[Alice Kelly]

As Kat went on her caffeine induced tirade, Alice simply stood there, slightly dumbfounded. Sure her and Tom had been living together for a while, but to immediately think they would... She found herself feeling insulted again but managed to push past it. The wild look in Katrina's eyes and dark circles that accompanied it definitely meant something was out of the ordinary and once again Alice found herself finding it hard to not point the blame at herself.

"Well, I mean, nothing like that happened, but... Hollywood romance kinda sucks compared to the real thing, I think." The words were half mumbled before Alice brought the almost empty cup of coffee up to take another drink of it, even if it had started going cold.

An awkward moment passed as Alice stood there, watching Kat who looked like she would either topple or explode at any second. A frown began to etch itself across her features and she sighed.

"Look, if you really want to know, I'll tell you the details later. Right now, though, I just want a shower and to change. Not to mention you look like you could use a nap."

[Kat Harriman]

Katrina fixed her with the look.

"Oh no," she contested, folding her arms across her chest for a split second before shrugging out of that gesture, grabbing Alice by the cuff of her sweater. "I know you," she muttered, dragging Alice into the room kicking the door closed behind them, and forcing Alice to sit - gently but firmly - at the foot of one of the unslept in beds.

She retreated a step. "You," she accused, pointing a finger square between Alice's eyes, "Are only saying that because you think me falling asleep will give you the chance to sneak off again and not tell me."

Her arms folded across her chest again, more long-term this time. "You will tell me everything, and you will tell me now," she insisted, "Starting with how the hell that guy made Tom angry, because that's information I need to know."

[Solomon Latona]

"Yeah, yeah," Solomon muttered, holding the room's phone half-heartedly to his ear, instantly regretting the decision to drape the other arm across the pillow above his head. The Harriman guy had roughed him up pretty good, and it had twigged something in his back. It was just a cramped muscle probably, but he'd been too proud and stubborn to admit it to Diana; which of course meant she hadn't done her whole ice pack hands routine and, after a sporadic night of sleep, Sol was really starting to regret that.

As casually as he could, still listening to the voice talking away at the other end of the phone, he tried to position himself in such a way that he could reach for the lighter casually abandoned on the beside table, flick it into life, and borrow a little fire for some soothing back heating action. To be honest, he didn't really remember which way round you were supposed to do it - was it cold for the first few days and then hot, or was it hot for a few days and then cold? - but he did know that his powers meant that fire most certainly wouldn't hurt, but it was worth a shot.

Unfortunately, he overestimated his lean, lost his balance, and deposited himself unceremoniously on the narrow strip of floor between the two beds in his and Diana's twin room. He let out a grunt; the voice on the other end of the phone stopped talking. "Yeah dad," Solomon muttered. "I'm fine."

Stiffly, he clambered back onto the bed, giving up before he managed to roll onto his back and instead remained more or less face down atop the sheets. "Yeah," he answered, another question from his father transmitted down the phone. "Worked exactly like you said it would. Guy flipped out like crazy; hell, he pretty much went full dark side and Vadered me to a table."

The voice began to talk again. I'm fine by the way, Sol mused bitterly to himself. Thanks for asking, dad.

He heard the keycard in the door; heard the lock clunk open and the hinges creak. Not moving, he raised his unoccupied arm and flailed a half-hearted wave towards what was either his sister, or some kind of Russian maid stripper masseuse here to prove that this was actually a dream. That potential wealth of mental images burst instantly however at what his father said next.

"I understand, sir," he replied, managing to insert an almost uncharacteristic amount of seriousness and determination into his voice. "We'll get the job done."

The phone line went dead as his father hung up without so much as a word of goodbye pleasantries; Solomon tried to be equally swift hanging up himself, but the fact that he was facing the wrong way, lying awkwardly, and didn't quite have full motion in his back ultimately made it an exercise in futility. With a grunt of frustration he released the handset and just let it fall; he'd worry about it later.

"Please tell me you're the stripper masseuse," he muttered into the bedsheets, his voice a mix of muffled and sleepily vague. "I don't want to be awake right now if it feels like this."

[Diana Latona]

Diana tried not to laugh, at first it had been a glorious success since no matter how pathetic Sol looked, that whole serious sir thing she'd walked in on kicked all amusement right out the window. She dropped her bag on the chair by the door before pulling free one of the two paper cups filled with the miserable excuse for coffee she'd managed to snag from the hotel lobby from the cardboard holder. It wasn't until Sol finished up the call and mumbled from his faceplant that the laugh finally escaped. Well, somewhat, it was muffled by the fact she was trying to drink the coffee as fast as possible to avoid actually having to taste it. Sad thing was she knew damn well they'd had far worse.

If nothing else it meant she didn't have to come up with some sort of snarky comment to fire back at him. Not that she'd leave it alone - even if it meant there probably wouldn't be any epic duets of Under Pressure on their roadtrips any time soon. She reached out as she'd done before, more mentally than physically but she knew it was really a combo of both that allowed her to suddenly pull together the tiny molecules of water from the air, cram them together and instantly drop their temperature until the back of her brother's shirt was suddenly filled with chunks of ice. She'd had the decency to make them round instead of jagged but Di figured he wouldn't exactly be thanking her for that.

While his sudden squirming was funny, it wasn't nearly good as all the ice related puns her mind started to deliver to the forefront of her thoughts in a ridiculous Austrian accent. She'd pay for it later but damn if it wasn't worth it in the here and now.