Hello everyone. I just wanted to start off with the standard disclaimer. If you recognize anything in here, I don't own it.

Now, just to explain, I got the inspiration for this story from a combination of two things. White Orchid, a very lovely author, has written a marvelous story, "The Rogue, the Rat, the Demon, and the Cat", which I recommend you all read! Usually I don't write humorous stories, but she made me want to. So if this story seems similar to hers, it's because hers inspired mine, although don't worry, mine will be different from hers. Also, the second thing that inspired me was the Joan Jett song, "Do You Wanna Touch Me?", which I will definitely feature periodically throughout this story. So, there, my inspirations. Oh, and the title comes from my favorite Nine Inch Nails song, "Closer", which will also be featured in this story. Actually, a lot of songs will be featured in this story, as I love using songs in connection with stories…

A small summary: After Mystique was shoved off the cliff by Rogue, she became a spirit. The only way for her to reclaim her body is to do one selfless task, and the particular task is to get together a pair that we all know and love. Only, it's not going to be nearly as easy as she thinks it will be, especially when villains and well-meaning mutants make things difficult.

WARNING: This is going to contain adult themes, such as sex, obscene language, and violence, so please, if you can't handle that, just be warned that it's in here.

Okay, then, enjoy!


Closer To God

Chapter One

"If you want to be free of this place, you'll listen to me, Mystique."

The voice was exasperated, as if these words had been spoken more than once. And, in fact, they had. She had been told this phrase so many times she thought her eyes would cross.

Shooting a glare in the general direction of the speaker, Mystique snapped, "Of course I want to be free of this place, but I refuse to do it on your terms."

After her not-so-darling adopted daughter, Rogue, had flung her petrified body off the cliff, Mystique had been stuck in a sort of limbo, unable to see anything but fog and her own body. Even the man that spoke to her was invisible, which made it all the more frustrating when he taunted her with a chance at escaping this terrible purgatory. She definitely wanted freedom, but at the price he asked.

"It's the only way, Mystique," the voice said in a long-suffering tone. "If you don't do this, you'll be stuck here forever."

"But why should I help her? As I recall, she's the one who sent me here," Mystique snarled, repeating the same things she had told him in the same argument they had been having for quite a while now.

"Exactly, which is why you must help her. To do something selfless will free you. And, if you recall, you would not have been in a position to have been pushed off a cliff if you hadn't used and betrayed her," the voice reprimanded her sharply.

Mystique huffed, but she didn't say anything. She couldn't, and the bastard damn well knew that. When she had been free of this place she had already felt guilty over using her daughter, although that guilt hadn't been strong enough then to prevent her from doing it. Now she wished she had listened to that guilt, for it had gotten her into a world full of trouble. Mystique loved Rogue, really she did, had always loved her, but she had loved her powers more. Now that she was learning how selfish and foolish she had been in regards to her daughter, Mystique felt the uncomfortable pangs of regret and treated them in the only way she knew how: by lashing out.

"How would I help her, anyway? It's not like she can touch the boy without killing him," Mystique said, finally relenting a little to discuss the method to her freedom.

There was a moment's silence, as if the voice she had spent all this time talking to was surprised by her sudden willingness to hear him out, "Are you actually willing to help your daughter, Mystique?"

"I'm thinking about it."

"Well, you better not just be thinking about it," the voice said crossly. "This is very serious business, helping soul mates find each other, and if you screw this up, you'll think this existence is Heaven compared to what you will be going to."

Mystique grunted in surprise, "How would failing to help my daughter unite with her soul mate send me to Hell? Last time I checked, that wasn't a sin."

"Because, knowing you, Mystique, they would not come together because you purposely kept them apart," the voice responded, accurately, damn him.

"They can't even touch!" Mystique shouted. "How are they even supposed to get together if they can't touch? Besides, he would just use her and then dump her! Why should I trust my baby girl to a ladies man like that?"

The voice laughed, grating on Mystique's nerves, "Have a little faith, Mystique. Lord knows the two of them need it, especially with what they will be facing soon."

"And that would be what?" Mystique asked, feeling piqued.

"Something you'll learn of very soon. Now, I assume you are familiar with the demons known as succubi?"

Mystique frowned, crossing her non existent arms over her non existent chest, "Succubi don't exist; they're just legends. And besides, I don't see how they would help, anyway."

The voice laughed again, and Mystique contemplated flipping him off, "Hardly. Here is the essence of a succubus; it will get you started on your mission."

A small, glass vial, glowing a dim red, appeared before Mystique, "And what am I supposed to do with it? What exactly does it do?"

She heard the smile in the man's voice, "It will get you started on your mission. The rest is left to you, including just what you do with it."

"Hey! That doesn't explain anything to me! I'm gonna need some help if I'm going to do this properly!" Mystique huffed, but it was too late. An odd sensation was tingling through her, and the fog was slowly receding. "Hey, wait, wait, wait! I need more information!"

"Would you stop bitching, Mystique, and get on with it?"

Those were the last words she heard from the voice before a bright light blinded Mystique momentarily. Hissing, Mystique lifted her hand to protect her eyes, leaving it there until it dimmed. When it dimmed, Mystique lowered her hand, looking around cautiously. She stood outside of Xavier's Institute in Bayville, New York, and, judging by the moon, it had to have been around midnight. Everything was silent and peaceful, indicating that the Wolverine had gotten the kiddies into bed for the night. Mystique looked at her arms, her body, and realized that they were see through, indicating her status as a mere apparition.

"What is this? I thought the deal was that if I helped Rogue get together with Gambit, I could have my body back," Mystique snarled, tempted to fling the little red vial she held in her hands across the fence.

"They aren't together yet, are they?"

Mystique glared at the sky, "Why the hell are you still bothering me? If you aren't going to help, go away!"

She didn't resist the impulse this time when the voice laughed to flip the bird, even though it wasn't as menacing in her non-corporeal body. When she knew she was completely alone, Mystique made her way toward the Institute, still grumbling beneath her breath at being demoted to mere matchmaker in order to get her body back. And to getting her daughter with none other than Gambit, a man whose zipper went down for any woman he saw! To put it plainly, Mystique was not pleased, but if this meant getting her body back, she would. And when she got her body back, she'd apologize to her daughter for having to force her to be with such a feckless man as Gambit.

Her body tense and cautious, Mystique walked through the wall, realizing that this must be how Rogue's roommate, Shadowkat, felt every time she phased through something. This nothingness, this lack of having a physical body, was spooky. Mystique just hoped that it went far enough along to mean that she was a full spirit, invisible to the eye. Of course, she'd have to be careful around Xavier, as she didn't think the telepath would take kindly to a spirit-Mystique messing around with one of his beloved students, whether or not that beloved student just happened to be her daughter notwithstanding.

Mystique almost had a heart attack when she came face to face with Wolverine. Like usual, he prowled the halls, always wary for uninvited visitors, just like Mystique. She was grateful that she didn't have to breathe, because she'd be holding it right now if she did. Fortunately, however, he looked right through her, confirming her belief that she was completely invisible. That would help in the long run, as she didn't think that Rogue would be too willing in letting the mother that she pushed off a cliff help her into a relationship. Of course, Mystique was still curious how the powers-that-be imagined Rogue would be having a relationship, since the powers that Mystique had so often abused sort of put a damper on any of the physical aspect of a relationship.

Smirking at being able to one-up her long time rival and long ago lover (a fact that would earn instant death to any who found out), Mystique strolled along the halls of the Institute, looking for her daughter's room. She had once known where it was, but she had forgotten, and, well, the mansion was pretty big. Here and there she would pause to look into a room, but no luck so far. However, she did find one person she was very curious to investigate. Deciding it wouldn't hurt to take a slight detour, Mystique walked into the room, the darkness not bothering her at all.

It was a single room, intended for one man, and obviously decorated by a man, most likely the student who occupied. Cards were strewn about everywhere, and here and there random articles of clothing littered the floor. Mystique arched an eyebrow as she realized that most of the clothing was either leather or jeans.

"Typical," she snorted, still looking around the room.

The desk was littered with half full liquor bottles, testimony to the occupant's twenty-one year old status. Here and there cologne bottles mingled with the liquor, and a standard clock radio flashed the time in big red numbers: 3:00 AM. Mystique smiled; the official witching hour, how quaint. There were a few posters on the wall, mainly of bands that Mystique didn't recognize and Harley Davidson motor cycles.

"The boy has a one track mind, doesn't he?" Mystique murmured, walking around the room and going over to the desk. Idly she wondered if she could open the drawer, and was pleased when she realized that, with enough concentration, she could. The desk drawer contained random school items, such as paper and pens, but Mystique also saw a pack of cigarettes and a box of condoms.

Turning to the boy – no, the man – slumbering on the bed, Mystique glared, "You better not be intending to use these on my baby."

She walked over to where he slept, sprawled on the bed, naked from the waist up, "Well, I can see what the girls see in you. Broad shoulders, rough, devil-may-care sort of looks. But if you hurt my daughter, you'll be in big trouble, mister."

Actually, she didn't see how he wouldn't end up hurting her daughter. Gambit was a very handsome man, with shaggy auburn hair and the face of a fallen angel; women literally flung themselves at his feet. Added to that his Creole charm and his demon eyes, and no woman stood a chance, especially someone as vulnerable as Rogue. Mystique did have to admit that if the two of them got together, they'd make a charming couple, and he wouldn't let Rogue's strong personality walk all over him, but that didn't mean she was happy about it.

A slight smile curved his lips, making Mystique suspicious, "What are you dreaming about, young man?"

On an impulse, Mystique brushed her fingers over his brow, and gasped when they sunk in slightly. She certainly wasn't expecting what she saw! There was her baby and Gambit, doing unspeakable things to each other! Gasping again and staggering back, Mystique gaped in shock at Gambit, "You dirty, dirty boy! Don't think those things about my daughter!"

Quivering in indignant outrage, Mystique glared at him. Then, she looked to her left. Then to her right.

"Well, maybe just once more…" Her fingers dipped, disappeared. "GAMBIT!!"

Stomping out of Gambit's room and fuming at the bit, Mystique was tempted to sic a lynch mob after that boy. Really, wasn't he a little old to be having wet dreams? Grumbling beneath her breath at Gambit's dreams over her baby girl, Mystique sought out Rogue's room, finding it quickly. She entered just as silently as she had entered Gambit's room, although this room was far different from the other mutant's.

It looked like someone with split personalities had decided to take up residence in the room. On one side, the wall was decorated with posters of boy bands and movies like "Wedding Crashers" and "The Holiday". The bed was pink and frilly, every inch a girly-girl's bed, complete with fluffy pillows and stuffed animals. That whole side of the room and the occupant living there were the essence of perky Kitty Pryde, Rogue's roommate. Conversely, on the other side of the room, darkness reigned. The posters on this side were for bands like Godsmack and Evanescence, and movies like "The Rocky Horror Picture Show" and "Army of Darkness". On the bedside table a well read copy of The Monk sat haphazardly on The Manchurian Candidate, The Scarlet Pimpernel, and the DVD box set of the HBO series "Rome". And then the bed, of course, was done in moody shades of black and emerald, the complete antithesis to the other side of the room.

Mystique shook her head at the sight of such a mismatched room. Even the girls in their pajamas looked so disparate from each other. Kitty obviously wore a pink nightshirt and matching shorts, her long brown hair curling around her innocent looking face. Rogue, on the other hand, was sprawled on top of the covers in a simple black tank top and black butt shorts. She wondered how the two of them ever got along, but if they had lived together for so long and hadn't killed the other yet, Mystique realized that somehow they had to have become friends.

As she looked at her sleeping daughter, Mystique once again felt that pang of regret go through her. Her daughter had just turned seventeen in early April, almost six months ago, and was now starting her senior year in high school. If she had been a good mother, she would have been there for Rogue instead of being interested in her only for her powers. As she slept, Rogue had her i-Pod nano clutched in her gloved fist, and Mystique noticed that the song currently playing was Three Day's Grace's "Just Like You", which saddened her even more. She had heard the song before, knew what it meant, and even though Rogue was asleep and didn't realize she was listening to it, Mystique knew that she wouldn't have the song on her i-Pod without a reason.

"What are you dreaming of, darling?" Mystique asked, awkwardly brushing her hand over Rogue's forehead and letting her fingers sink in there. "Oh my god!"

No wonder the powers-that-be wanted Rogue and Gambit to be together; the pair of them were a couple of perverts! Mystique gasped at the risqué dream Rogue was having of the demon eyed mutant, entranced by the almost surreal quality to it, the longing that was evident behind every movement the two made. It made sense, Mystique vaguely acknowledged that Rogue would have dirty dreams; only in her dreams could she have physical touch. Although she had to say that Rogue was far dirtier in her imagination than young Gambit had been, surprisingly.

Removing her hand and feeling like a dirty voyeur for peeking in on her daughter's very explicit, very naughty dreams with Gambit (something that really surprised her, as Mystique had always been certain of Rogue's dislike for the New Orleans born mutant), Mystique backed away slowly from the bed. She looked down at the vial in her hand, wondering what she was supposed to do with it. Every time it got near Rogue's body, the red pulsed and grew stronger, fading back to a dull light only when Mystique pulled it away. Biting her lip and looking back and forth between the vial and Rogue, she pondered for a moment just exactly what it was that she was supposed to do.

"Do I open it and have her drink it? Do I have her drink all of it? Do I rub it on her body?" When Mystique asked if Rogue should drink it, the vial pulsed brightly in her hands, startling Mystique a bit. "Well, I think I have my answer. But how much?"

She pulled out the intricately designed stopper, looking down uncertainly into the oddly swirling contents of the bottle, "Oh well, I guess all of it…"

Drawing closer to Rogue, Mystique was glad that her daughter's lips were partially opened. It just made things easier for her. Placing the edge of the bottle next to her lips, Mystique delicately tipped it. Slowly, an almost gaseous liquid oozed out of the bottle, pouring down Rogue's throat. Obviously Rogue's subconscious realized that some foreign substance was being forced down her throat, for she whimpered and twisted a little as the stuff went down, but Mystique managed to keep her quite enough to get the entire amount of the red liquid down her throat. When she was finished, Mystique leaned back up and placed the stopper back in the vial, stepping back from the bed.

Frowning, Mystique wondered what was supposed to happen next. Rogue was lying on the bed, her chest rising and falling in deep sleep as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. For a moment, Mystique suffered a bout of fear. What if this essence of succubi did something to Rogue, something bad? But no, she was here to help Rogue, and they wouldn't give her something to give Rogue that would harm her. That would sort of defeat the purpose of aiding her.

Suddenly, a fine sheen of sweat erupted over Rogue's pale skin, illuminated by the moonlight that poured in through the open window. Mystique watched in growing horror as Rogue started to pant, quietly at first, her chest rising and falling quicker now as her legs shifted restlessly on the covers. Was she… was this making her have a… Oh dear lord. Rogue, still apparently asleep, bit on her lower lip, moaning softly in what could only be pleasure, leaning her head back on her pillow and faintly arching her chest. Mystique slapped a hand over her mouth as she watched her daughter grab her covers in tight fists, her hips rolling in a motion that no mother should ever see her daughter's hips do.

Little panting whimpers spilled regularly from Rogue's lips now as her head tossed back and forth on her pillow, one of her hands coming up to tug impatiently at her shirt. The other hand slipped beneath her shorts and between her legs, and Mystique's eye twitched. Rogue's breath came faster and faster as her hips rocked faster and faster, her noises somehow not waking her roommate sleeping in the next bed. And yet through all of this, Rogue was still obviously asleep, too, which shocked Mystique. Finally, after what seemed an inordinately long time to Mystique, forced to suffer the humiliation of seeing her daughter… well, seeing her daughter doing something better left to behind closed doors, Rogue cried out, her back arching all the way off the bed as shudders ran down the entire length of her.

She collapsed back on her bed, still completely asleep, huffing quietly, her expression blissful. Her skin, so usually pale, now glistened with a healthy, warm glow, far too inviting and seductive for a mere seventeen year old, in Mystique's opinion. It was as if, with the orgasm her daughter had just had, a subtle transformation had taken place, and Mystique was afraid of what it meant.

"Well, we'll just have to see what this does to her and how I'm supposed to proceed in the morning, right?"

Only, Mystique wasn't quite so sure she wanted to know how this was going to turn out.


Okay, everyone, I hope you enjoyed that! Tell me what you think, and expect much exasperation and surprise in the next chapter!

Love all! Midnight Pomegranate