Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

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Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

Post by Wolvertique » Thu Apr 15, 2004 10:51 am

He paused and raised an eyebrow. "That is understood. Nein, I was hoping you would make Sabertooth look like a choir boy." His eyes danced with mischief.
Mystique: "How would you like to come see some really awful black velvet paintings of bullfighters?"
Wolverine: "What, no etchings?"
Mystique: "Just bullfighters...that's all they have on my motel room wall."
--Wolverine #51, "The Crunch Conundrum"

"Scott, everybody knows J-P would slap us all silly and make us little French speaking clones of him if he could." -- Bobby Drake

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Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

Post by Lauren » Thu Apr 15, 2004 3:40 pm

she slowly smiled and she nodded, clapping her hands as she laughed. "Good idea!"
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Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

Post by RavEnigma » Thu Apr 15, 2004 7:01 pm

FANTASTIC!
ABSOLUTELY BRILLIANT! (*mutters* Why didn't I come up with that idea before? I would've pushed for Kurt -and- Remy.) This is hilarious! I was laughing so hard, Mrs. Bunday (the school librarian) gave me the stare of death! By the way, O Wolvertique the Wondrous Writer and Nedrasha Lauren, I have a humble request. Would either of you (or both) consent to allowing me to post some of your magnificent stories on my website, The Raven's Roost? Please? *makes puppy dog eyes at Lauren and Wolvertique*
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Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

Post by SheCat » Fri Apr 16, 2004 2:07 am

May I ask where the heck you are going with this? :D Nice lines, people. :thumbup
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Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

Post by Wolvertique » Fri Apr 16, 2004 10:49 am

Kurt smiled and touched his fingers to his lips. "Auf wiedersehen, Lauren." With his usual bamf, the blue man vanished, leaving behind a foul cloud of smoke.
Mystique: "How would you like to come see some really awful black velvet paintings of bullfighters?"
Wolverine: "What, no etchings?"
Mystique: "Just bullfighters...that's all they have on my motel room wall."
--Wolverine #51, "The Crunch Conundrum"

"Scott, everybody knows J-P would slap us all silly and make us little French speaking clones of him if he could." -- Bobby Drake

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Talented Group Update!

Post by Wolvertique » Fri Apr 16, 2004 11:35 am

Authors Note: Same warnings apply. Scott/Northstar slash. Angst. Might spoil your enjoyment of the original. (But I like this story.)

**********************
Scott’s door was unlocked. He paused, listening. No one appeared to be inside.

He wasn’t sure why he’d come. After all, the man hated him. To be fair, he didn’t like Scott, either. He was self-righteous, arrogant, and blind.

All right, he told himself. I should be honest. I do know why I am here.

He pushed the door open. Darkness greeted him. He swiftly shut and locked the door, then moved over to the bed.

Moonlight streamed in the window. After a minute, his eyes had adjusted. He saw Scott lying on the bed, fully dressed, curled up into a ball. His visor had slipped off and was lying a few inches from his face.

He bent over the other man. Scott’s eyes were closed tight. There was a large damp spot under the man’s forehead, as if he had cried himself to sleep, and not too long ago. He knelt by the side of the bed and looked at him.

Dieu. He felt pity. Scott looked very young, alone, and hurt. His arms were held up as if to ward off a blow. He also felt a little guilt. He had known about the plans for the play, but he didn’t know it would hurt the man so badly. Didn’t care, either.

Another tear slid out of the man’s closed left eye, dripping over the bridge of his nose to the bedspread. His mouth moved and his arms tensed. Jean-Paul remained where he was, waiting, until Scott gave a melancholy sigh and stopped moving.

He shouldn’t wake Scott. He probably needed all the rest he could get. He gently put the man’s visor in front of his eyes, sprang to his feet, and his knees let out a loud crack.

Scott twitched awake with a gasp, keeping his eyes closed and grabbing for his visor. “Who? What?” He adjusted the visor over his eyes and tensed. “Tell me.”

Jean-Paul turned on the bedside lamp and sat on the edge of the bed. Scotts face twitched, then went still. His head bowed and he looked at his hands. “Go ahead. I deserve it.” A muscle in his left cheek twitched, but otherwise his face remained immobile.

“It is possible you have been punished enough tonight.”

Scott didn’t move.

“Bobby visited me earlier. He said he … told people you were gay.”

Scott sniffed. “Yeah.”

“Is it true?” He waited, one arched eyebrow raised, watching Scott.

Scott sat up, wiping off his face with one sleeve. He winced at the sight. What that could do to a good sweater …

“Yes.” He sat erect, defiant, waiting for the hammer to fall.

“He also told me you …” Merde. He did not want to have to ask about it. “He said you might have something of mine.”

“Bobby said I was a thief, too?” The corners of Scott’s mouth turned down and trembled.

“Not exactly.” He paused. “Something I lost about two months ago.”

Scott sat, frozen, resting against the wall behind his bed. A tear trickled from his right eye down his cheek, catching in his slight beard stubble along the way. “He would have to talk about that.” His voice was unsteady.

“That was when you got much worse, wasn’t it?” It all started making sense now. How easy it was to simply believe Scott was an ass, like most English speaking cretins. He still wanted to, to be honest, because he still felt hurt. But it was getting harder to maintain that belief.

“I’m sorry.” The tear was joined by another, slowly slipping down, forming its own trail. “I know it’s not enough. But I am.”

“Why did you do it?” He took Scott’s tough hand in his slender one. Scott tried to pull away, but he held on.

“Didn’t Drake the Town Crier already tell you?”

“Let us just say I do not believe everything Monsieur Drake has to say is true without hearing it from you, first.”

More tears ran down Scott’s cheeks as he sat in the dim light. He looked to his left, away from Jean-Paul. “I don’t deserve that, but thank you anyway.”

“So, why?”

He shook his head. “I just…look.” He turned and faced Jean-Paul. “You’ve accepted this whole, I mean … for a while now. I never have. I wished I could, when I saw you …” He paused. “It was still hard to take, but I finally had some hope that maybe someday someone would understand, when I was ready to tell. Then, to read that beautiful story, and know I wasn’t at all what you had in mind, I couldn’t take it. I had no more hope. Do you understand that?”

The Canadian mutant shook his head. "Not really."

Scott turned away. "It doesnt matter."

"Oh, it matters." Jean-Paul turned off the lamp, plunging Scott into darkness again. He bent to kiss the mans forehead, one knee planted on the bed.

Scott stretched, trying to get comfortable. His right leg brushed up against Jean-Pauls, unsteadying him, and he felt gentle pressure against his lips. He froze for a moment, then did one of the few impulsive things he had ever done. He reached up and pulled the man closer. After all, if he had to get the teasing, the shunning, the other negative reactions now that he was known to be gay, he was damned well going to get something good out of it.

Jean-Paul, unsettled, found his mouth on Scotts and stopped. What was going on here? Then the man pulled him closer and enfeu, if Scott wasnt gay, he was giving an Oscar-worthy performance. He went with it. The intimacy, the closeness, the sheer heat was wonderful.

Both men were breathing hard by the time they separated. Jean-Paul cleared his throat. "You know," he said casually, "you are going to have to apologize a lot in the next few days. You should. You have a lot to make up for. Never apologize for this, though." He unlocked and opened the door, then walked through it, adjusting his collar.

The door closed and Scott got up to lock it, then laid awake in his bed for a while, thinking over what had just happened.
Mystique: "How would you like to come see some really awful black velvet paintings of bullfighters?"
Wolverine: "What, no etchings?"
Mystique: "Just bullfighters...that's all they have on my motel room wall."
--Wolverine #51, "The Crunch Conundrum"

"Scott, everybody knows J-P would slap us all silly and make us little French speaking clones of him if he could." -- Bobby Drake

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Power Update!

Post by Wolvertique » Fri Apr 16, 2004 11:47 am

**Fresh Toad/Kitty, hot off the keyboard!**

She was bored. She had read two of Toad’s books, but her eyes hurt now and she was having a hard time understanding most of them. She’d just had a nap and didn’t want another.

She scratched Lockheed’s head. The dragon moved his head so she could scratch his itchy spots. He pulled his head back and yawned, his tongue stretched out.

“What do you think I should do, Lockheed?” She sighed. “I’m so bored. I’m tired. I can’t sleep any more. I ache.”

She wasn’t really expecting him to answer, so when he did, she was surprised. “Call him.”

“Call who?”

Lockheed blinked. “Call him. He has ideas.”

Toad? Oh. Toad certainly did have ideas.

She paused. She didn’t want to bother him. He’d been very available to her over the past few days, of course. He had sung her to sleep, gotten her medication, told her a few stories, and had revealed a very wry and sarcastic sense of humor that she rather liked.

He had also been standoffish, sensitive, stubborn, and angry to varying degrees. He was rude when she mentioned wanting her mother, indifferent when she talked about God, and left her alone for hours after she noticed him using his tongue to steady himself as he jumped down the hallway.

“What kind of a mood do you think he’s in?” She waited. Lockheed yawned.

“Well?” she asked impatiently.

Lockheed ducked his head under a wing. “Always better with Kitty.”

She didn’t have the energy to swing a fist at him in play. “You think that about everyone.” She sighed and thought for a moment, then spoke toward the oak panel that hid the intercom speaker. “Andy?”

His voice responded. “Who’s Andy?”

“You are. Remember?” She waited, thinking of his graceful sway at the door as he announced that he was Andrew Lloyd Webber the day she woke up here.

He paused. “I prefer Drew.”

She laughed. “Drew. Can you come here? I’m kinda bored, and if you’re not doing anything …”

Toad didn’t respond for a full minute. “What do you want?”

“I don’t know. Read me a story. Get a VCR in here. Heck, give me a laptop to play with.”

“Hm. Five minutes.” The intercom clicked off.

Lockheed contentedly curled up under her left arm. “Gleep.” He sounded smug.

She patted him. “Did not.”

It took him ten, but Toad joined her, walking slowly into the room, carrying a laptop computer. He put it on her tray and turned it toward her.

“Trackball or mouse?” she asked as she tried to open it.

“Neither.” He waited.

She finally found the catch and released it. The screen was lighting up with an odd logo, a green frog. The frog’s tongue licked out and the words “A ToadCo Product” glowed white against the black background. She reached out to touch it, amazed.

“Best not do that.” He watched as she put her hand down on the tray.

“You made this?” She turned it over, looking for a logo.

“Built it from the ground up. Just like this place. Well, the electronics, anyhow.” He pulled the rocking chair up and sat in it, legs curled onto the seat, green socked feet peeking out from under his brown knees. “There’s more.”

The desktop lit up. He had a picture of a toad on it, of course. There were small icons on it, all shaped like bugs. They were labeled “Typing,” “Time Wasters,” “Tools,” “Trash,” and “Terminix.” She looked for the track ball before she remembered. She frowned at the laptop. It had the standard gray keys, but there was nothing to show how to do what she wanted. “Do I have to use shortcut keys?”

He leaned in toward her, his dark eyes alight with humor. “Try touching it now.”

She touched “Time Wasters.” The toad’s tongue licked out and “ate” the cockroach icon, and a list of games popped up on the screen instead. She giggled. “That’s cute.”

He took her hand when she would have touched something else. “A warning.” His skin was smooth and warm on the back, rough and warm in his palm. “Don’t touch Terminix unless you want the comp shut down.”

She left her hand in his for the moment and brought up Minesweeper after the toad licked it. “How good are you at this?”

“Building computers?”

“I can tell you’re good at that.” She playfully swiped at him with her free hand. He didn’t try to dodge. She missed by a mile.

“I don’t play much.” He let go of her right hand and withdrew from her, leaning back in the chair. His thumb had been gently kneading her sore muscles. She wouldn’t have minded him keeping it.

She closed out of the game. “Typing is some form of word processing program, right?”

He bent over to her again. “My own.”

“You made one?” She touched it. The toad ate the ant hungrily and belched out a white screen called “Document.”

“Not like it’s hard, though your Microsoft likes to pretend it is.” He scooted the rocking chair as close as he could, then turned the screen toward himself and tapped the keys rapidly.

They spent several hours together. Kitty was more and more fascinated. Toad was an inventor, an architect, and while his expertise tended more toward how computers were made rather than how to use them, he was no slouch in that area, either. He was fascinating, on the whole. He moved with style and vigor.

She wondered if he would ever consider joining the X-men.
Mystique: "How would you like to come see some really awful black velvet paintings of bullfighters?"
Wolverine: "What, no etchings?"
Mystique: "Just bullfighters...that's all they have on my motel room wall."
--Wolverine #51, "The Crunch Conundrum"

"Scott, everybody knows J-P would slap us all silly and make us little French speaking clones of him if he could." -- Bobby Drake

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Power Update!

Post by Wolvertique » Fri Apr 16, 2004 11:49 am

**And MORE Toad/Kitty!**

He knew he was being silly.

He had accepted his ugliness years ago, at the orphanage, where his bugged out eyes and thick, wide mouth contrasted unattractively with his skinny form, earning him his nickname.

He still searched the mirror, desperately trying to find something about himself that wasn’t awful to look at.

He dismissed his body. Sure, he worked out and had some natural strength there, especially in the lower half. But women weren’t interested in men’s bodies anyhow. And so what? Even if they were, living with men who could ruddy populate GQ and still have some left over for the next seven issues meant she wouldn’t be impressed by him.

Women wouldn’t be impressed, he meant.

Needing a distraction from his thoughts, his eyes flickered over his reflected image and he seized on his hair. It wasn’t all that bad, now that he tried to care for it, really. Looked rather like most other fellows’ styles. At least he wasn’t going bald. That’d just make things worse. The color wasn’t bad either. The natural red highlights perked it up some.

He snorted. Women didn’t look at hair that much.

Well, maybe a little. He stood up straighter and turned on the light over the mirror.

A few small scars here and there on his cheeks from years of neglect, abuse, and acne. His eyes magnified them, turned them into huge gashes. He shook his head. “I could give the old hunchback pointers, couldn’t I?”

He hated the way his mouth moved, the extra flexibility and strength in his jaw distorting his face. He looked away from it in distaste. Unhappily, he stared into his own eyes rather than at his lips. Mud brown, his orbs. If they were at least green or blue, he might not be too bad off. But they were plain old brown. Like a toad.

They were extraordinarily deep and clear, almost liquid in appearance. A more objective eye might have noticed that he was no longer a skinny orphan and had grown into his looks some, that his mouth was no wider than that of other men who were considered good-looking, and that his eyes were amazingly expressive of his emotions. He was healthy and well-muscled, moved with grace, and carried himself upright, without slouching.

No such eye was looking into Toad’s bathroom mirror, though.

Disappointed again, he sighed and moved away from his hated image. “No point. Probably has a boyfriend back home, anyway.”

He leaped onto the tub to avoid Lockheed, who was crouched under his sink staring up at him. “Now, what do you want?”

Lockheed blinked, then jerked his head toward the door.

“You can talk. Why don’t you?”

The dragon flipped his wings once. “Hurts.”

“It hurts you to talk.”

The animal scampered over to the side of the tub and pushed the door with his nose so that it opened wider. “Kitty hurts.”

Without a thought, Toad gracefully sprang through the door and leaped down the hall to his bedroom.

Lockheed nodded once and called to the man from the bathroom. He had reached Kitty’s door. “No.”

Toad paused, apprehensive, his hand on the knob. “No what?”

Lockheed blinked innocently and hopped into the hallway toward him. “Boyfriend.”

The animal bent to nibble his side and Toad stared at him for a few seconds. He’d almost swear the creature was implying something, but he dismissed it. No way could the thing mean what he thought it did. He turned the knob and entered his bedroom.

Kitty was shivering, her cheeks flaming red, her curly brown hair strewn over his pillow. She looked up as he entered with wide, hot eyes and shuddered under the pile of covers. The tray was overturned on the floor to the left of the bed, cup overturned, plate and fork scattered over the brown carpet. “I’m sorry.” She pulled her right arm out from under the pile and gestured, then pulled it back in, quivering. “Cold in here.”

He gently touched her forehead with the back of his left hand. She was burning. He sighed. “Let’s get your temp down.”

She protested the removal of her covers as he pulled them off her and threw them to the floor. “D … don’t. Please.” Her arms crossed over her breasts and she tried to pull the sleeves of her nightgown down further. Her thin toes curled as he took her into his arms, supporting her shoulders and legs. He curled her left arm around his neck.

“It won’t take long. I promise.” He bounded for the door, powerful legs only taking one jump before he sailed through the doorway.

She giggled. “It’s like flying. You’re lucky.” She held tightly to his neck, shivering, as he set her down on the bathmat and stripped her gown over her head. “Hey.” She huddled over, hugging herself tight with her arms, her eyes pleading with him. Her gold Star of David swung from its chain at her throat.

“We already had this discussion. You lost. Remember?” He tossed the gown out the door and closed it firmly, trying not to look at the naked woman. She was sick. It wasn’t right. Her breasts were heaving, in perfect proportion to her body.

Damn it.

Lockheed whistled outside as he bent to turn on the tub, making sure the water was warm, but not too warm. “She’s all right,” he called back. He heard a disgruntled “eep” through the door, but he was not going to let the animal in. There was no need for a chaperone.

He reached for her and swung her into the water. She shrieked and tried to phase through it, but was only partly successful. “Cut that out,” he admonished, holding her body down as the tub filled.

She stared up into his eyes and turned solid. “How far back do they go?”

“What?” He tore his gaze from her and watched the water flowing into the tub instead. She hugged her knees, trembling.

“Your eyes. Deep.”

“Hmph.” He turned off the water.

“How’d you hide the speaker?”

“The what?” He remained crouched down at the tap end, testing the temperature of the water with one hand while he turned his head toward her.

“In my … your room.” The red spots on her cheeks remained.

“Ah. That. Little invention of my own. I made the covering for it a few years after I built the sound system. Thin oak veneer treated with a little miracle. Stops the light, but not sound.” He took his hand out of the water, shaking off the drops.

“You built it?” She closed her eyes and stretched her neck backward. “Wow.”

He shrugged. “Nothing special. I couldn’t rely on anyone else to do it for me. I’ve always been okay with machines.”

“Typical English understatement.” She mimicked his lower-class accent perfectly, eyes closed, tone mocking. “I’ve always been okay at building high class sound systems that would blow most others out of the water, creating laptops that are more efficient than Apple can make, traveling faster than a speeding bullet, and singing like an angel. It’s nothing, really, any more than the five-storey museum I built yesterday out of toothpicks and old lorry parts was.”

He cleared his throat, seeking a safer topic of conversation so his blush could fade. “Good accent.”

“Thank Excalibur.” She opened her right eye and winked, then winced and closed it. “It hurts to look.”

He knew the feeling. He turned from her so she wouldn’t have to see his face. “Arthur and all that, hm?”

“Yeah.” She relaxed a little in the water. “Sing for me again.”

“Why?” He touched her forehead again. Still too hot.

“Gives me something to focus on. Calms me down.” She smiled weakly and coughed. “Please.”

He was about to refuse when he thought of something. He hadn’t heard the song in twenty years, yet it came to mind when she spoke of calming down. The day woman at the orphanage sometimes sang a little tune when she was cleaning.

Green gravel, green gravel, the grass is so green.
The fairest of ladies I ever have seen.
I’ll wash you in milk, and I’ll clothe you in silk,
And I’ll write down your name with a gold pen and ink.

He had listened to it one day, standing outside, watching a woman and her son. They were heading to the gardens up the street, no doubt, and the song had given him a brief hope that someday, someone would want him like that. Someone would write his name on the adoption papers, and he would matter.

He sang it to her now, not looking at her, hands in his lap, legs crossed, remembering that day. It had been warm for once, warm and clear, no rain all day. He faltered and stopped on the last words, re-living his boyish wish for a family.

“Teach it to me.” She leaned over the side and touched his arm with a wet fist.

Why not? Not like he had anything better to do, did he? Her trembling alto followed his sure tenor until she stopped, panting, and said, “Okay. Got it. You go first.”

“Go first?”

She blinked at him. “It’s a round.”

A round? He’d known the thing for longer than she’d been alive. He didn’t think it could be sung that way. Still, she was sick, so he’d indulge her for now.

He began and she joined in. He was surprised. It was rather good as a round. Her voice followed his twice through and ended on its own, plaintively. He watched her sing, smiling. Who knew that was what the bally thing was, anyway?

They stared at each other, neither wanting to give up the feeling of closeness after working together as they had. He considered speaking, but didn’t know what to say. Kitty opened her mouth but closed it again without a word. Then Lockheed flung himself at the door. “Gleep,” he said urgently.

The moment broken, they both looked away. Toad felt her forehead perfunctorily, his eyes on the door. “You’re cooler. Get back into your gown. I’ll go see what’s bothering the overgrown lizard.” He swiftly vanished.

Kitty sat in the cooling water holding her head. Who knew that one day she’d end up singing duets with Toad in reality, not in some drug-induced dream? She stood shakily, reaching for the mat with one weak leg, then wrapped a fat towel around her body, feebly rubbing until some of the water was gone from her skin. She threw her nightgown on again, pink ruffles covering her chilled skin. The cotton clung to her legs as she looked out, then walked slowly to the bedroom. Toad was not there. Neither was Lockheed. She covered herself as best she could, then closed her eyes. She would rest for a little while. She hummed as she relaxed into sleep.
Mystique: "How would you like to come see some really awful black velvet paintings of bullfighters?"
Wolverine: "What, no etchings?"
Mystique: "Just bullfighters...that's all they have on my motel room wall."
--Wolverine #51, "The Crunch Conundrum"

"Scott, everybody knows J-P would slap us all silly and make us little French speaking clones of him if he could." -- Bobby Drake

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Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

Post by SheCat » Fri Apr 16, 2004 3:16 pm

Kudos on Talented Group! That was really quite sweet. I like it when Scott's portrayed as a social moron and not just a stiff, and some Northie work is just a treat. Really nice, Wolvie-Teek.

Great job on "Power" too. I really like your depiction of Toad. Such a sweetie.
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Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

Post by RavEnigma » Sat Apr 17, 2004 2:27 pm

I agree with SheCat. Toad's sooooo sweet! ^_^ *sighs* If Kitty doesn't want him, I'd be happy to take her place!
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Power Update!

Post by Wolvertique » Sat Apr 17, 2004 4:27 pm

And yet MORE Toad/Kitty-ness. YAY!

*********************
Searching

The motorcycle roared up to the private lane. Remy paused, looking from the map to the weathered wooden sign pointing down the road.

“You sure this is the place, sugar?” Rogue stretched her neck to remove the kinks in it and gripped his waist tightly.

“Pretty sure, chere. Professor got some dead air back this way.” He coughed a little. "Yangry at your amour, or just want to switch places?"

Rogue blushed, relaxing her grasp. "Sorry. I wasnt payin attention."

Remy pouted. "Not payin attention to your Remy? Chere. That hurt."

She hit him playfully. "Go on, swamp rat. Kitty might need us."

***************************
He’d been found. He hadn’t anticipated being found. He swore, passionately, under his breath. Hed have to get Kitty into the basement after he put up his first line of defense.

Lockheed fluttered on the floor, distracting him. “I don’t bleedin’ have time for this.” He waved the animal off impatiently and set off the program, then headed up the stairs.

“Taking Kitty with you?”

He stopped. “Yes.” He rounded on the dragon. “You stay here and keep quiet. Dont let those pals of yours know youre here.”

“Promised.” Lockheed rested before the basement monitor, content.

He bounced up the stairs and opened her door, folding her into his arms again. She was cool to touch and cuddled against his chest, wrapping an arm around his neck and murmuring nonsense. He picked up a few things for her, then retreated into the basement.

***********************
They roared up the road, both people looking for the source of the dead spot where the Professor couldnt detect anything. Trees, rocks, dirt, plants, all seemed normal at first.

Then they saw the cottage.

It was a small, neglected place, with dirty, broken windows and an aura of abandonment. Still, Remy pulled up to its worn, off the hinges gate and turned off the bike.

Rogue rose into the air to look it over, while Remy sauntered over the fence and started searching on the surface.

After an hour, they had found almost nothing. A discarded beer can here, a tennis shoe there.

Remy paused at the gate and looked down at it as they were about to leave. "Chere? Shouldnt there be more rust on this ol thing?"

Rogue sighed. "Im tired of rust. Lets keep going."

The couple kicked the motorcycle back to life and surged up the road again, looking for Kitty.

***********************
But Now I See

Lockheed was frustrated.

He knew humans had very complex mating rituals, compared to those of his race. In the Flock, if a male was interested in choosing a mate, he would give her some food and sing for her, maybe even touch her and do a little dance. If she was interested, she ate and let him touch her. Then soon, eggs came, and more Flock. It was easy.

Humans, on the other hand, had weird mating rituals. Sometimes, like the wild human Logan, they pretended to mate, spending a night or two together and then leaving each other. That didnt make any sense.

Sometimes they didnt mate at all but stayed together anyway, like Rogue and Remy. Why would anyone do that? You couldnt have eggs that way.

But he knew Kitty by now and knew human mating rituals well enough to know that Toad wanted Kitty as his mate, and Kitty wanted him, too.

Why werent they mating?

It wasnt because they werent interested in each other. Kitty was pretending to be sick, now, to keep from having to leave the house. Toad was playing along, too, pretending to worry about her.

It wasnt that another male wanted Kitty. Hed made certain the Toad knew that, several times, speaking the weird language the humans used.

Somehow, Kitty seemed to think that the man wasnt interested in her. That was silly. He gave her food. He gave her a computer. He sang to her. Lockheed could see that he wanted her.

He didnt tell her, though. Lockheed didnt understand that, either. Humans could be oblivious to things like that, so most humans told each other things like that, to make up for their lack of perception. But the man didnt speak up, didnt say he wanted Kitty as his mate.

Of course, he didnt believe that Kitty wanted him. Again, silly. Kitty didnt need him prompting her to seek Toad out these days. She ran to him if he wasnt there when she woke up. She watched him as he moved. She tuned up his hard drives for him. She smelled of desire for him sometimes. Was the mans nose dead?

Maybe Lockheed would just have to tell the blind humans what was plain to see, if they kept being stubborn like this. He would start with Kitty. She would listen to him.
Mystique: "How would you like to come see some really awful black velvet paintings of bullfighters?"
Wolverine: "What, no etchings?"
Mystique: "Just bullfighters...that's all they have on my motel room wall."
--Wolverine #51, "The Crunch Conundrum"

"Scott, everybody knows J-P would slap us all silly and make us little French speaking clones of him if he could." -- Bobby Drake

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Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

Post by SheCat » Sat Apr 17, 2004 6:14 pm

Aww...I loved that. Mort is so sweet. And I loved that line "Why would anybody do that? They couldn't have eggs that way." about Rems and Roguie. I'm passing that to all my RoGambit-loving buddies.

I love Lockheed's point of view. He really has a way of putting it in perspective, without silly human emotions. :)
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Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

Post by RavEnigma » Sat Apr 17, 2004 9:32 pm

*sighs* Way to go, Lockheed! Sometimes a dragon's gotta do what a dragon's gonna do. But the question is, how's he gonna do it? And will Remy and Rogue take Kitty away before Kitty and Toad confess their feelings for each other? Don't leave me hanging! I gotta know! You are the queen of romance fics, Wolvertique!
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Identity Crisis Update!

Post by Wolvertique » Mon Apr 19, 2004 3:08 pm

I started thinking some more about my earlier Sage/Sabertooth effort, and this plotbunny started running. Enjoy!

********************
I dont call her on her cell phone.

I just dont.

We arrange our trysts other ways. While were together. Postcards. Letters.

The woman can figure out any puzzle I make for her, and Ive been trained in codes.

Theres only one reason to call her on the cell.

Unfortunately, Ive got it.

****************************
Three days ago, she got back to the mansion from "a trip upstate." Not a lie, not entirely. She had gone on a trip.

The trip had left her with more bites and nip marks, as usual. Victor had been unusually passionate this last time.

Luckily, she usually dressed in a formal fashion, and though it was spring, it was cool. She adjusted the collar of her turtleneck and listened to the parameters of the mission, as well as planning alternate routes, altering her course outline, and in the back of her head, tasting the exciting promise that next time, he would hunt her down in the wild North.

Just two more weeks.

Her cell phone rang. Startled, she answered it. "Tessa."

"I got a reason."

She paused. "Good."

"Same place as before. Ten minutes. I know you can make it."

She closed her phone. "Pardon me." She got up to go, putting the agenda in her briefcase and giving a brief nod to the other X-men in the room.

"Somethin serious?" Logan had been following her closely, particularly after this last encounter. Perhaps she had not washed off enough of the blood afterward.

She projected her usual cool, businesslike demeanor. "No, but it requires my immediate attention. Excuse me."

She felt his gaze on her body, burning through her clothes, as she hurried to her room. Unfortunately, in order to be dressed properly, she had to wear shoes which restricted her movement. She kicked them off and threw the briefcase in a corner, slipping on an old pair of tennis shoes instead and tossing her jacket onto the bed.

Tessa. Charles cool mental touch came, as expected.

Charles. She nearly ran down the hallway from the womens dormitory. Logan was standing at the stairs as she came, wild eyes watching her.

What is it?

Personal business. She infused her mental touch with some of the wild throbbing she felt inside, the urge to run on the edge, as well as a tinge of sexuality. Nothing too serious, but I need to go now and bleed off some energy.

He withdrew, almost instinctively, as he always did when confronted with the intimate knowledge of his teammates. I see. Please inform me when your task is complete.

I will contact you by the end of the day. If I do not, come for me. She broke off the link sharply and burst through the front door, nearly slamming it into Rahne Sinclair, who had been standing outside laughing with Jamie Madrox.

She did not apologize. She ran past the startled couple and heard their exclamations as she sped over to the motor pool. This would require greater speed than she could muster on foot.

***************************
I waited in the apartment. She had a few more things in it now. A chair in the living room. Microwave food in the freezer. Changes of clothes in the dresser. Strongly scented lilac and patchouli soaps and candles in the bathroom.

Couldnt have Logan finding out about us, now, could we?

I snarled, trying to keep from smashing something as I paced. Cataloguing scents was about all I could come up with.

She had to come soon. Id given her ten. If she wasnt doing anything, shed be here in two minutes. If she had been, shed be out in seven.

Maybe I should eat something. I hadnt eaten for … well. Twenty four hours.

I fished out a packaged meal and read the instructions carefully, keeping myself from slashing it open with an effort.

Hm. Time was, Id have slashed it wide anyway and ruined the place.

I sat, paying no attention to the sesame chicken that was scattering everywhere on the hard kitchen floor.

What was she doing to me?

**************************
She parked in the lot five blocks away and started running. No one, to her knowledge, had followed her. She did a quick and dirty telepathic sweep of the immediate area anyway. No suspicious blank areas where there should be people, no recitations of meaningless nonsense, and nothing but ordinary thoughts of ordinary humans.

She kept running and hoped shed made it in time. She had no time to look at her watch. She vaulted the stairs, avoiding the broken second step, and flung her apartment door open.

He was sitting on the kitchen floor. Bits of rice and orange sauce surrounded him on the floor. A box of "authentic" Chinese chicken lay at his feet, with more rice and orange bits inside. He looked up at her approach. "Tessa."

She swallowed. "Victor." She locked the door, triple locked it, then moved forward, dropping her usual reserve. "What has happened to you?"

His eyes stopped at her shoes. "Its after Labor Day," he said, faint surprise in his tone.

She waved her right hand impatiently. "Why did you call?"

He rose to his full height, his own suit wrinkled from his former posture, his long blond hair settling down his back. He raised a hand, then dropped it with a sigh. "Why cant I kill you?"

She blinked. She hadnt anticipated a question like that. "Lets go to the bedroom. I need a drink."

**************************
I watched her open the Merlot, pour the ruby red liquid into a glass, and toss off half of it in one gulp. Her throat pulsed with life. Again, I tried to imagine ripping through it, drinking deep, but felt the same as I had earlier. Disgusted. Unhappy. Lonely.

She coughed a little, the alcohol stinging on its way down. "Now, tell me again, from the beginning."

I sat on the bed next to her, growling. "Like I said. Someone said something to me this morning, about being willing to kill anyone for a price. I started thinking about you. No price for you. I couldnt do it." I took her hand. She was shaking, her pulse throbbing loud in my ears. "I want to know why."

She closed her eyes. "I could delve into your mind to find out."

"Thatd be fine." I let go of her hand. The idea of crushing it in mine disturbed me. Made me feel guilty. Ashamed.

What was wrong with me if I couldnt even do that?

She brushed into my head, smoky and wild. I held my hands together and pressed hard. I didnt like anyone in my head but me.

Still, she felt friendly. Soothing. How many people could I say that about?

She dropped down into my center. Her feelings swirled through mine as she searched. Fear. Anticipation. Curiosity.

Lets just hope this lady doesnt kill this cat.

****************************
She moved into his mind cautiously. It had been trapped and messed with and felt like it, odd places shut off that should be open, places opened that should have been blocked. She moved into the area of his feelings for her.

They were amorphous, shifting from warmth and want to sudden shafts of jealousy and desire. She opened more to his mind, what he thought about her as the feelings sifted through her being. He missed her when she was gone. He thought about her during the weeks they were away. He wrote things down he thought would interest her. He planned things she would like. He smiled at the memory of her joy when he gave her that updateable Palm Pilot shed wanted.

Good heavens. Victor was in love with her. She paused. How were they going to deal with this complication?
Mystique: "How would you like to come see some really awful black velvet paintings of bullfighters?"
Wolverine: "What, no etchings?"
Mystique: "Just bullfighters...that's all they have on my motel room wall."
--Wolverine #51, "The Crunch Conundrum"

"Scott, everybody knows J-P would slap us all silly and make us little French speaking clones of him if he could." -- Bobby Drake

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Power Update!

Post by Wolvertique » Mon Apr 19, 2004 5:33 pm

Enjoy!

******************
She huddled in bed in the basement of Toads house. He was still worried that the X-men would come back, so he hadnt restored the upper floors. She wondered what he was doing.

"Lockheed!" The small animal suddenly touched her with his cold nose. "I didnt know you were there."

"Kitty?" He pressed in to her body. "Why do you not mate?"

"Mate?" She held him. "Jeez, Lockheed…"

"He would be a good mate."

She sighed. "Theres a little thing called love that has to happen first."

The animal pressed harder. "Both have love, though."

"What?" She squeezed him tighter. He didnt. He couldn’t.

He let out a sharp cry as she embraced him, then panted as she released his body. "You love him. He loves you. Mate."

She got up, feeling the cold floor under her feet. "I … I dont love him." Did she? She hadnt really thought about it.

Lockheed sat up on her pillow. "Do. You seek him out. You look at him the way you did Piotr. You love him."

She paced, only pausing to put on some old socks. Okay, so she liked Toad. She didnt try to deny that. He was funny. He could understand the stuff she talked about. She didnt have to put things into easier words for him.

But did she love him?

She scowled.

Shed been pretending she was sick so she could stay longer. She sometimes came up with stuff to say just so she could hear his voice in response. She liked watching him, even when all he was doing was fixing a connection or adding a graphic to a program.

Did that add up to love?

She gave up and sat back down on the bed. "Even if I do, so what? He doesnt love me."

Lockheed ducked his head. "I dont believe in you, you know." His voice was a near-perfect imitation of Toads, with defiance in every word. "I never have. Course, youve never given me a reason, have you?"

She closed her eyes and listened, imagining how he looked as he talked. He was probably pacing, strong legs propelling him back and forth, maybe even jumping some.

"Still, assuming that you do exist for sake of argument, I have only one favor to ask." He paused. "Its not a large one. Promise.

"You never answered the large ones, anyway." He chuckled, resentful. Then his tone changed, becoming more pleading, though he retained a hard edge to his words. "When she leaves me, please, make me not care. Make me forget all about her. Take away all these stupid dreams Ive been having of her, staying here, loving me.

"God, please, if youre out there. Let me stop loving Kitty." He swallowed back the tears. "If Erik could stand the loss of Christine, I can stand losing her."

The old pink nightgown Kitty wore was sodden with tears once Lockheed had stopped speaking. He cared. He cared that much?

It swept through her as she sniffled and shook, as Lockheed came over and crooned to her in worry, that she did love him, too. She never wanted to leave him. But she didnt see any way she could stay once she got better. "Oh, Lockheed. Sometimes I wish I was more like you."

He blinked at her and cocked his head, curious. She wiped away her tears. "I wish it was all just simple. Why does life have to be so complicated?"

"Simple. Mate."

She sighed and looked at the chair. Shed put her clothes on the old wooden rocking chair Toad used when he came to see her. Might as well put them on. She wasnt going to get any more sleep.

"Should tell him."

She hung her head. "When I know what to say, maybe I will."
Mystique: "How would you like to come see some really awful black velvet paintings of bullfighters?"
Wolverine: "What, no etchings?"
Mystique: "Just bullfighters...that's all they have on my motel room wall."
--Wolverine #51, "The Crunch Conundrum"

"Scott, everybody knows J-P would slap us all silly and make us little French speaking clones of him if he could." -- Bobby Drake

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Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

Post by RavEnigma » Mon Apr 19, 2004 6:57 pm

Yay! At first I was a bit confused about the Erik and Christine part, but isn't that from Phantom of the Opera? I dunno, I've never seen it. :shrug But it was sweet, what Lockheed did. Very sweet. I wonder how Toad will react? Oh, and my friend Krista really likes your fic. (she told me to write that, she's sitting next to me in Study Hall right now) Please write more soon, O Wondrous Wolvertique, Regina del Fanficcion! And would you please let me have some of your works for my site? :puppy
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All I Ask of You

Post by Wolvertique » Tue Apr 27, 2004 9:28 pm

The past few days, Kitty had been very odd. He had restored the house now that the X-men seemed to have given up their search. Maybe that explained why the woman refused to leave him alone.

She would take a book or another project wherever he went, but she didnt spend much time reading or working. She stared at him, instead. Due to his peculiar eyes, he had enhanced peripheral vision, and he saw that much of the time they were together, she watched him closely.

It was disturbing him greatly.

He couldnt understand why she was staring so much at him. Certainly he was a sight to behold, but after a month, hadnt she seen everything he had? Yet her hazel eyes inevitably turned to his face as he worked.

He was glad that she had volunteered to make tea, for it gave him time alone to think, without that overarching feeling of being under the microscope. He stretched, yawning, moving his neck from side to side to work the kinks out.

What was it about his face?

Cold shivered down his spine. Could it be that she was thinking about leaving him?

He had been amazed when she kept making excuses to stay. He thought, at first, it was merely that she wanted to give herself more time to heal. Then he believed it might instead mean that she was unhappy with the X-men and wished to punish them by staying away. He didnt care. He went with her flimsiest excuses, her forced coughs, as long as it gave him one more day with her.

That was probably it. She was gathering up her courage to leave him, to face his horrid visage and tell him goodbye.

She walked in, beaming, holding a tray with the tea things on it and a plate of cakes. Cranberry. His favorites. Of course. To soften the blow. Her favorite sweater, and his, the soft peach signaling his doom.

She smiled. Naturally. Give the Phantom a smile before you leave him.

But all she said was, "Hope you like it. I brought milk and sugar. Ive never made tea before. I found your recipe for the mu … cakes in the pantry."

He grunted and took a cup. He slowly added sugar to it, trying to delay the inevitable.

"Dont you want to try one?" She held up a cranberry cake.

He sighed. "Sure." He tried to sound cheery, but knew it fell flat.

Her hand brushed up against his as she gave him the cake. He closed his eyes and put the cake down on the table, taking a healthy gulp of tea. He coughed as the hot fluid scalded his tongue, and he realized he had both added far too much sugar and no milk. He quickly took a bite of the cake.

She half-rose when he hurriedly dropped his cup on the table, but relaxed as he bit into the cake. "Well, I wanted to talk to you about something … what is your real name, anyway?"

He swallowed. "Mortimer Toynbee."

"Oh." She looked down at her cup. "Anyway, I wanted to tell you something."

The alarm light started blinking over the television set. He leaped up, delighted, saying, "Later. Someones coming."

***********************************
The X-men had not been idle. Since Kitty Pryde had gone missing, everyone had been thoroughly searching for her worldwide. The suspicions Remy had about the location he and Rogue had found in Scotland were not top priority, but they had finally come down to searching there. Wolverine, Nightcrawler, Gambit, and Rogue were driving up the private lane to search it again.

***********************************
Kitty, Toad, and Lockheed watched them approach with varying expressions of disbelief, horror, and disappointment. Kitty shook her head once, then smiled. "Stay here. Both of you. Right here. Ill be back."

Toad frowned and watched as she ran out to the road to meet her friends. Lockheed looked at him and blinked innocently. He asked, "Whys she coming back?"

The dragon dropped to the ground and pattered away. Toad sighed, but stayed where shed asked him to, watching the monitor as she approached her friends. They stopped their car and got out. She hugged them. Lucky bastards, even the blue fuzzy demon. They all started talking at once, but she held up a hand and talked to them. They listened for a minute, then began frowning. The short, stocky Wolverine blurted out something, followed by the lanky, deceptively cool Gambit. Rogue looked worried. Nightcrawlers menacing visage and flaming eyes darted from Rogue to Kitty as she tried to answer Wolverine and Gambit.

Music blared from the speakers and he leaped to the ceiling as the sound screeched through his ears. "Stop playing with the bloody sound system, or Ill have Kitty neuter you!"

He heard no response, but the sound came down to a reasonable level. It was one of his self-mixed instrumental CDs, the one hed been listening to the first night she came. He closed his eyes for a minute, remembering her harsh breathing in the dim light, the green coverlet rising and falling with each sigh.

Kitty! What was she up to now? He landed on the floor before the monitor, which showed the car pulling off down the lane.

Gone.

She was gone. He hadnt had a chance to say goodbye. She had left him without a word.

Who needed her, anyway?!

************************
Kitty Pryde sneaked back into the cottage through the back door, dodging and twisting to stay out of range of the cameras. Her friends hadnt wanted to let her go. They had to admit, once she forced them to, that she was an adult who had the right to make her own decisions, however.

That didnt keep them from following her at times, so she made sure to keep out of their sight as she made her way back to the house.

Lockheed met her as she quietly closed the back door. "Not gone Kitty?"

She walked through the kitchen, smiling. "Nope. I just had to persuade the X-men that I meant it when I said I wanted to stay here with Toad."

"He thinks Kitty is gone."

Her shoulders slumped. "Where is he?"

Lockheed flapped and walked her down to the basement room she had been staying in, then turned back to the music controls and skipped over several tracks.

*************************
"Mortimer?"

The room was dark. The electric clock had been turned off. There were no windows.

A tight, choked British voice said, "I told you I hate that ruddy name."

She took a step into the darkness. "What should I call you?"

Pause.

"Why did you bother coming back?"

"Bother?" She sighed. "There is the matter of Lockheed, you know."

"Forgot about him, didnt I?" He swallowed. "Taking the plane, are you?"

"Backwards talking you are." She phased and began walking cautiously through the dark room.

A laugh. "Suppose I am at that."

"It wasnt the only reason I came back."

The volume started increasing on the music. The first song shed ever heard him sing. The first song he ever sang to anyone. "All I Ask of You."

He let the music play, letting the memory play in his mind. "Why, then?"

Her warm hand rested on his shoulder. He nearly jumped through the ceiling. "Sorry." Her voice was breathy, nervous, in the concealing dark.

"Why, Kitty? Why come back here at all? Your friends were here to take you back." Hope swelled with the music.

She gulped. "Well, Drew, I couldnt leave because …" She waited a moment, then sat in front of him, taking his left hand in her right. "What this song says is what I want. Id rather be in the dark here with you than in the mansion again with the X-men. Ive found that Im … I love you. Thats all there is to it."

His hand tightened on hers. "This isnt just some trick, now, is it, Xavier?" His voice rose angrily.

"Hey!" Kitty pulled her hand away. "Whatever problems the professor has, and believe me he has them, hed never try to trick you like this."

He spoke quietly. "I find it hard to believe anyone could care for me, much less love me."

A laugh. "Ill have to teach you, then."

*****************************
Lockheed grinned from the monitoring station, then turned off the speakers to the room where Kitty and Toad were. There was loving. There was mating. True, it was more awkward than he expected. But it was a good thing.

He curled up and waited to be told. Eggs would come. Especially since he had finally figured out that the reason Kitty hadnt been having eggs were those pretty white pills shed been taking.
Mystique: "How would you like to come see some really awful black velvet paintings of bullfighters?"
Wolverine: "What, no etchings?"
Mystique: "Just bullfighters...that's all they have on my motel room wall."
--Wolverine #51, "The Crunch Conundrum"

"Scott, everybody knows J-P would slap us all silly and make us little French speaking clones of him if he could." -- Bobby Drake

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Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

Post by RavEnigma » Tue Apr 27, 2004 9:55 pm

:love YOU RULE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Finally, they're together! You did it perfectly! And I love the bit with Lockheed about birth control pills. Just too funny. :LOL *sighs* How do you do it, Wolvertique? Please write more soon!
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Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

Post by Wolvertique » Tue Apr 27, 2004 10:25 pm

How do you do it, Wolvertique?

:D Believe it or not, no drugs were involved in any of my fanfiction offerings. Honest. :D
Mystique: "How would you like to come see some really awful black velvet paintings of bullfighters?"
Wolverine: "What, no etchings?"
Mystique: "Just bullfighters...that's all they have on my motel room wall."
--Wolverine #51, "The Crunch Conundrum"

"Scott, everybody knows J-P would slap us all silly and make us little French speaking clones of him if he could." -- Bobby Drake

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Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

Post by SheCat » Sat May 01, 2004 2:51 am

Wow, another great Morty/Kitty installment! I must worship you. I love Morty, you've done him so much justice.

But Remy isn't lanky, just nicely proportioned! :P Just because he isn't an Oompaloompa like Wolvie...:D
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Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

Post by Wolvertique » Sat May 01, 2004 1:12 pm

Oh geez. Darn rabid Rogue and Gambit fans. You say one thing they could maybe take offense to ... ;)

Thanks for letting me know. I love feedback.
Mystique: "How would you like to come see some really awful black velvet paintings of bullfighters?"
Wolverine: "What, no etchings?"
Mystique: "Just bullfighters...that's all they have on my motel room wall."
--Wolverine #51, "The Crunch Conundrum"

"Scott, everybody knows J-P would slap us all silly and make us little French speaking clones of him if he could." -- Bobby Drake

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Wolvertique's Wondrous Works Part Deux!

Post by SheCat » Sat May 01, 2004 6:52 pm

I was just joking with you! :P I'm not taking offense, just note! :D
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Identity Crisis Update!

Post by Wolvertique » Mon May 03, 2004 12:04 pm

Update to my Sage/Sabertooth story. When last we left our heroes (?), we knew that Victor had succumbed to his abiding passion for our favorite ebon-tressed X-femme. What happens now to these star-crossed lovers? (Well, not really, but we gotta build dramatic tension somehow...)

*************************
I waited for her to leave my head. I bit the insides of my cheeks to remain calm. Calmer. I raised my hand again, trying to bring it down and snap her neck.

Her lovely neck.

I felt the guilt and shame flooding my body again. What the hell was wrong with me? Id killed people before without a thought. Better looking ones.

She looked at me. I put my hand by my side, guilty, worried. "You do seem to have a problem."

I waited for her to tell me. She tossed off the rest of her wine and looked up at me, smoky eyes wide with fear. "Victor, youre in love."

I growled and jumped off the bed. "Cant be. I never have been."

Her eyes burned into me, her right hand toying with her almost empty wine glass, a bright red droplet caught in the stem. "Apparently, you are now."

It sizzled along my nerves. Unfortunately, it made sense. A lot of sense. Damn it.

"So, what does that mean?"

She put the glass on the floor and stared at her feet. "What do you want it to mean?"

I wrapped my paw around her chin and raised her head. "Dont go all Zen on me, Tessa. We know about me. How about you?"

She dropped the X-mask, that brisk "Dont touch me" air she put on around the X-men. Her eyes closed. "I might feel the same. I havent bothered to analyze it." Her eyes hit mine hard when she opened them again. "Ive been busy just feeling when Im around you. Enjoying finally being able to be everything I am. But I dont know what it means. Its not like we can …"

"Do the traditional thing?" I laughed. Yeah. "Imagine the wedding." I snorted.

Course, the idea of a wedding was kinda perversely attractive. I could see the runts face now.

Her eyes gleamed. "Imagine the kids."

I stopped and looked her over, the image of my ebony-haired lover pregnant doing interesting things to my insides. "I am."

Our eyes locked. The ideas were thrilling. Heady. Hot.

Theyd never work.

She pulled her shirt off in one graceful, careless move, exposing the cuts and bites Id left from our last time together. She traced the nip on her right shoulder. "Whyd you do that?"

I stayed in front of her and dropped to my knees. "I wanted to mark you." I sniffed along her jaw line. "I wanted to claim you before you went back to them." I teased her ear with my tongue. "Before you were swallowed up by other men."

She pulled me against her body, tilting so I could continue playing with her ear. "Then I have to come up with something we can do by the time we meet up in Canada."

"Fine." I picked her up and tossed her back onto the bed. "Youre wearing too much."

***********************************
She smiled, blinking back a few tears. She did not like having to inhibit Victors passion, but having yet more bite marks would make working with the X-men impossible.

She hissed as the soap hit a tender bite. Hed opened it earlier while he was stroking her body and licking at her. She hadnt minded at the time, but right now it stung.

He wanted children. She had to put her hands over her mouth to keep from laughing, then realized that probably no one could hear her and laughed till she cried. And people of different religious traditions thought THEY had problems when they decided to have them…

What if they got the worst aspects of both parents and were danger freaks with bad tempers?

What if they were furry telepaths?

What if the kids looked like Muppets?

She sighed and reached for her towel.

It was handed to her. She took it, smiling, and reached out with her mind to touch Victor.

Hello, Sage. Miss me? It wasnt Victor.

She let her body relax as his hands pressed against her upper chest and his claws extended. "Dont try messing with my head, traitor."

She activated her telepathy and reached out to Charles on their special emergency link while she savored the fear. "I wouldnt dream of it, Logan." Charles?

Tessa. What is wrong?

Please tell Logan to bring me back to the mansion so I can tell all of you at once.

"Good. Now, want to tell me why youve been coming here to fuck our enemy? A lot?"

Very well. I shall see you shortly.

"I have my reasons. I believe all of you should hear them back at the mansion." His arm muscles clenched and she felt his points touch her throat. She hoped they wouldnt puncture her skin. If Victor knew that Logan had cut her neck, the place he loved to bite the most …

He growled and pushed her out of the shower. Good. The skin of her neck remained clear. "Chuck says youll come back with me and explain everything." His angry eyes raked her body, pausing on the scratches and bites on her lower neck and shoulders, and the bruise at her hip. "Knew you were up to something. The sudden overuse of perfume. How happy you got after your weekends away. The smell of blood the last two times you came back."

She walked into the bedroom and found her uniform lying on the bed. She looked back at the menacing form in her dark bathroom. "Wear it. And no smelly stuff this time. I want everyone to know what I do."

She gave a brief nod and skinned into her uniform, leaving most of the bites and scrapes open to the cool air. The moment of truth was here.

She hated to do it, but he was already involved. She had to let him know.

Victor?

Yeah. He was running free. He smelled damp earth and lilacs.

They found out.

He paused. Ill come get you.

No! She was frantic. Just let me try to explain.

He probably wasnt laughing out loud, but his response was overflowing with amusement. Sweetheart, there are some things ya just cant explain. Ill get you out of this.

Dont. Please. I want to try it this way.

Im not gonna let you get killed because you want to try a "diplomatic solution," Tess. His mental voice was firm.

She sighed in defeat. Tell you what. Ill make you a deal.

This isnt a game.

No, youre right. Its not. She had to phrase this just right. Ill go back to the mansion and try things my way, but you track me and come along outside. I know the security measures there and where you can be without tripping them off. Ill keep you inside my head while Im in there. If I need you…

If I decide you need me, Im going in there. Ill be listening. She heard a muffled thought of "women" before he settled into the back of her mind.

He itched in there while Logan drove her back to the mansion, getting curious stares from other drivers on the road.
Mystique: "How would you like to come see some really awful black velvet paintings of bullfighters?"
Wolverine: "What, no etchings?"
Mystique: "Just bullfighters...that's all they have on my motel room wall."
--Wolverine #51, "The Crunch Conundrum"

"Scott, everybody knows J-P would slap us all silly and make us little French speaking clones of him if he could." -- Bobby Drake

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MORE Identity Crisis Update! YAY!

Post by Wolvertique » Mon May 03, 2004 1:56 pm

So it isnt bad enough that I have to fall in love at all.

I have to fall in love with one of Xaviers.

I have to fall in love with one of Xaviers with a death wish.

About the only thing worse would be falling for Logan.

Yeah its insane, but some sick fanfiction authors out there have innumerable silly stories where I fall for my son.

Okay, okay. I know Im not his father.

The illusion that he is, though, the lies implanted by Weapon X, are the only thing keeping me from ripping his head off.

How dare he get so close to her.

How dare he leave his scent on her.

Were going to have to … talk … sometime about that. Shes mine.

Shes laughing at me now, inside her head. Says Im silly. Says she wants me, not the runt. Makes some size comparisons that get me laughing.

Damn it.

She disappears inside the house. I try to project an innocent image. Just a simple jogger here, maam.

Nothing to fear from me. Nothing at all.

Right.

*******************************************
Keeping her feral lover busy inside her head, trying to find a way out of the mess she was currently up to her eyeballs in, and warding Logan off was keeping Sages vast mental processes very well occupied. The adrenaline rush had grown as she got closer to the mansion. She was almost relishing being able, for once, to be completely honest with the team.

The usual suspects were all there, other than Remy and Rogue (off somewhere "together") and Bobby Drake (on loan to Alpha Flight). Jamie already had two duplicates, one who was cracking his knuckles and glaring at her while the other was eating a large candy bar. Rahne was in transitional form between wolf and girl. Warren, Betsy, Kurt, Hank, Jean, Scott, and Storm all waited, all ready to strike her down. She heard Logans claws extend behind her as she entered. Only Charles appeared willing to hear her before arming to the teeth, and only Hank showed visible concern at her injuries.

"Goodness gracious, Tessa. Are you all right?" The blue furry man leaped down from his perch near Charles as she posed, waiting for an invitation before she sat down.

Charles nodded and she sat in the lone chair at the end of the table, the others shoving to get even farther away as she did, other than Jamies hungry duplicate, who had moved on to a large sub. The original Jamie wrinkled his nose in disgust and ordered his copy to fall back. "Im very well, Hank. I got all of these because I wanted them." She fingered her wounds gently, humor coming unbidden as he fell back, aghast. "But Charles knew from the beginning how I was. Didnt you, Charles?"

The man nodded. "I was fully aware that you had deep and dark desires, Tessa." His eyes flickered over her and his jaw tensed. "I had hoped, however, that you had found some expression of them which did not require a partner who was so far removed from our goals."

She leaned back in her chair. "I didnt share anything with him that he could use to harm the X-men as a whole."

She gave a faithful summary of their meeting in the bar just over a year ago, the continued meetings, the way she had looked forward to them, the precautions she took … all of it. Her enjoyment of the pain. Desire growing into more. She watched as their expressions shifted from distaste to disbelief, sorrow and disappointment. She waited for a response as she felt him growl inside.

I should break you out now.

Wouldnt work. I cant outrun Logan and hes right by me. She kept her amused smirk and looked around. No one wanted to meet her eyes. Jamies duplicate finished his sub and licked his fingers.

I can take care of that problem for ya, little lady. He gave a chilling John Wayne imitation, but he had not yet made a move.

Wait.

Scott took a step toward her and attempted a challenging sneer. "So what are you going to do now, get married? Settle down?"

She decided to go with it. "Yes."

What?

"What?"

Why not? Alex Summers and Lorna made it work. They stayed on as adjuncts to the team …

You might have missed it, but Im no straight arrow Summers.

The room exploded into noise as people argued with Charles or yelled mindlessly at her. She waited, relaxing in her chair. I know. Thats why I … like you.

You were going to say love you.

Changed my mind. Scott pushed down on her arm rests, effectively pinning her, and touched his visor. "Give me one good reason I shouldnt use this."

She shrugged. "Because Victor would come in here and kill or maim people you care about."

Claws threatened her again from behind, pricking into her shoulder blades. She winced at the hot prickly pain and tried to compose herself. "Told you I should have just killed her off."

Charles cool, controlled mental touch came, as expected. I shall have to close off your link with Sabretooth, Tessa.

Do not. He will take that as a sign that I am in danger.

I am not sure I can probe you with him there.

Do it anyhow.

She licked her lips. "Dont like that one? Okay. It would give Logan far too much pleasure."

Scott nearly forgot himself enough to smile, but cut off the impulse before he could lose his advantage. "Maybe I could call it his Christmas present."

Whats going on in there? Tess?

Oh, what I might have expected. Im being threatened, and Charles is probing me. No one has harmed me, though.

Then whyd you hurt?

No reason? She tried a smile herself as Logan growled at Scott for being a cheapskate. She lost it when Charles started firmly going through her memories of the last several hours.

Charles! You have always allowed me some privacy … She winced as he touched things she wanted to keep secret, even from herself. Her true desire to marry Victor. Her plans for their trip to Canada.

Apparently, I was in error when I permitted you to keep your sexual proclivities secret, Tessa. She could feel some embarrassment from him as he searched, but he was resolved to keep looking.

Victor growled again in her mind. Youre hurting again.

Hes probing me.

I dont like it. Im coming in.

If you come in, you come in unarmed and quiet.

Silence. Scott sniped back at Logan that the man wouldnt know what to do with a good present even if he got him one.

Fine.

He broke off telepathic communication.

Victor?

Victor?

VICTOR?

He was not there. She panicked, but could not move. Charles had her firmly in hand, Scott and Logan had agreed to discuss Christmas later, and the alarms were going off as Victor approached the mansion. Jamie reabsorbed his gluttonous copy and sent the other, along with most of the other X-men, to capture her lover.

All she could do was remember and hope.
Mystique: "How would you like to come see some really awful black velvet paintings of bullfighters?"
Wolverine: "What, no etchings?"
Mystique: "Just bullfighters...that's all they have on my motel room wall."
--Wolverine #51, "The Crunch Conundrum"

"Scott, everybody knows J-P would slap us all silly and make us little French speaking clones of him if he could." -- Bobby Drake

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Identity Crisis Update Trois!

Post by Wolvertique » Mon May 03, 2004 2:55 pm

I cut her off. She asked for a hell of a lot already.

I was joking earlier about marriage. Yeah, it'd be fun to see the reactions, but the reality wasn't something I was ready for.

I guess she was.

Hmph. Never guessed any woman would want to marry me. Hey, might as well take her up on it.

No time to get married anyway.

I walked around to the front gate.

Never run to your own destruction, right?

I leaped up and over the fence. I knew I tripped at least three alarms on the way in.

I hate the smell of cooking flesh. Especially when it's mine.

I wonder if they'll let me tell her before they kill me that I accepted her offer?

One sure way to find out.

They're boiling in there and burst out to meet me.

Nice to meet the family before you pop the question, isn't it?

I just drop and remember her sweet, throaty voice from this morning, holding my hands ready for the cuffs.

It's just pain. I've had three lifetimes full already.

The blue guy next to me's babbling about how the cuffs do something to my powers. Probably dampen or completely inhibit them. I ignore him and get to my feet.

"I need to see Tessa." I address the guy who seems to be in charge, a hard, aggressive guy with a smaller, wimpier twin standing beside him.

Big Blue starts laughing. So does Wolf-girl and Wings. The wimpier guy clears his throat, but the man I talked to answers. "I'll take you there."

The wimpy guy puts a hand on his shoulder, and he sinks back into the wimp. He sighs. "I didn't know any side of me was that crazy before, either."

So Xerox man isn't in charge. "Who's supposed to be in charge here?"

"My eminently confused captive, I am." Big Blue. Figures.

"So, can I see her, or do you need to lock me up first?"

He turns his head. "I am not in the habit of giving intruders, particularly violent and psychopathic ones, access to any of our team members."

I sigh. "I gotta ask her something."

"Perhaps you should let me ask her in your stead."

I shake my head and walk inside with him. "I'm the only one who asks people to marry me. Sorry."

He blinks. "I had the impression from our earlier dialogue that it was already settled."

I stop walking. "That was informal." And Tessa speaking out of turn. But I don't tell Blue that.

The X-Geeks push me, so I start walking again, though I'd rather gut the lot of them.

He nods slowly. "I shall do my best to persuade Charles to permit you a visitor in your room later."
Mystique: "How would you like to come see some really awful black velvet paintings of bullfighters?"
Wolverine: "What, no etchings?"
Mystique: "Just bullfighters...that's all they have on my motel room wall."
--Wolverine #51, "The Crunch Conundrum"

"Scott, everybody knows J-P would slap us all silly and make us little French speaking clones of him if he could." -- Bobby Drake

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