Perfectly Normal
folder
X-Men - Animated Series (all) › FemSlash - Female/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
63
Views:
7,417
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
X-Men - Animated Series (all) › FemSlash - Female/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
63
Views:
7,417
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own X-Men Evolution, or any of the characters from it. I make no money from from the writing of this story.
30
PERFECTLY NORMAL CHAPTER THIRTY
Disclaimers Apply
A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… Well, I made the spindle… now I have to spin lol. InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink, Dracena and Greywolf are loverly and wondermous for archiving/hosting. J ProPhile: Now that song is stuck in my head. *poke* Morgan: *not so subtle stalk* Readers/Reviewers: Thank you so much for reading and reviewing as you can! The Killer Kitties appreciate it. J
“Bugger.” Mark exhaled softly, gripping the seatbelt across his chest as Lance swung the car onto the side street Mystique indicated as a shortcut around construction. “Tell me, what are the requirements for obtaining a license to drive here?” Mark muttered, bracing himself again as Lance took a hard left.
“Not stringent enough,” Mystique replied from the back seat, her tone softly quelling but amused. She hissed under her breath as Lance applied the brakes a little more forcefully than necessary, making them all lurch forward in their seats.
“Here you are,” the teenager said sullenly, glaring at Mystique in the rearview mirror. He did not like having her in the car, did not like being the chauffer for her and Mark. Especially to this place. “What the Hell is The Black Lab? [1] Some freaky BDSM club?” He leaned over the steering while, trying to peer into the darkened windows of the restaurant, trying to assess the nature of the beast. “I’ve never heard of it…”
“No reason why you should have in any case,” Mark pointed out, opening the passenger side door. “It’s a restaurant,” he added, reaching to open the door for Mystique. “Weren’t you supposed to have Todd and Amara with you?”
“Yeah…” Lance made a face, clearly not wishing to follow that line of conversation. Instead, he fixed Mark with an odd look as he helped Mystique from the car, offering her his hand and guiding her over the standing water by the curb. “Uh, what time should I get you?”
“We’ll call,” Mystique put in before Mark could reply. She shut the door firmly with her free hand, her left still held loosely in Mark’s. Lance hesitated a moment, straining forward still, trying to see into the darkened window of the place, before driving off a bit faster than legal, swinging around the corner and onto the main drag of town without noticing the stop sign. “Well,” Mystique said after the briefest hesitation, “that was…”
“An experiment in faith affirmation,” Mark finished, venting a soft sigh. “I’m sure he will have some interesting things to relay to the other students when he returns to the Institute.” He debated, momentarily, whether to release he hand or not, but Mystique answered that question for him but closing her fingers around his and squeezing slightly.
“All flights of fancy,” Mystique responded with an answering sigh. “So… shall we?”
Mark nodded, leading her to the red painted door of the small establishment. “This is the only vaguely British place within a hundred miles, I fear. I hear that there are some in Manhattan but…” He trailed off as he pulled the door open.
“This is lovely,” she said flatly. “It seems so, anyway.” The inside was dark and had a vague blue haze of smoke, being one of the last places in the area that allowed cigarette and cigar smoking on the premises. “I haven’t had English food in years.” She smiled down at Mark as he lead her to a booth in the very back of the place, the faint glow of overhead lamps lighting their path to the wooden seats and smoky corner. She fell silent as a waiter appeared at their table, dropping menus with ill grace before depositing two sweating glasses of water, then whisking away without further adieu. “Ah, good to see they have service standards.”
“Just like home,” Mark sighed with mock wistfulness. Mystique snorted in amusement, looking vaguely embarrassed that the noise had come from her before Mark joined with a quiet laugh. “You’ve been to England…where else have you traveled?” He leaned towards her, the sudden and raucous laughter from the other side of the restaurant bespeaking a dart game dipped in strong beer.
“Oh,” she sighed, the façade of a pale brunette masking the dull flush rising in her cheeks, “everywhere, it seems. I’ve even been to Antartica.” She smiled widely at his surprised expression, taking a sip of her cold water. “It was a research station,” she shrugged. “Part of my job.”
Mark nodded, considering the many things he could say at that moment before taking a deep breath. “Been to Germany then?” She went very still, the smile freezing on her lips for just a fraction of a moment before she eased into a more natural position, her body relaxing as if by force. “I only ask,” Mark hurried, aware that the seconds were stretching on far too long, too silently, “because that was the last place I visited before accepting the position with the Institute. I stayed in Baden Baden with an old friend of mine…” He was aware that he was babbling but could not seem to stop himself, his accent thickening and changing from the neutral, London-tinged tone he used for professional interactions to a fair Geordie accent, something Mystique noted with a raised brow.
“I’ve spent time in Germany,” she said with the slightest hint of a chill in her voice. “But never Baden Baden.” She picked up her menu and flipped through it distractedly, her lips pursing in what seemed to be annoyance. “Lots of meat in British cuisine.”
Mark cleared his throat. “Yes, a lot of organ meat in some regional specialties. Depends on where you go, really.” He signaled the waiter, feeling the deep and sudden need for a beer. “So any plans for summer break yet?”
Mystique looked at him with a glitter of amusement mingling with annoyance in her eyes. “Working. I always work. I don’t take holidays anymore.” She leaned back as the waiter took Mark’s drink order, shaking her head when he turned to her. “No thank you. I’m abstaining this evening.” Mark did not react to the edge of a double entendre in her words. “I’m sorry to hear about the library. You put so much work into it.” She paused, setting the menu down and reaching over to place her hand lightly on his. “It’s not because of you…”
“What do you mean by that?” he asked, his brows creeping upwards. The clatter of a tray drew his attention towards the front of the restaurant where huge, dark form blocked the door. “Oy…”
“What?” Mystique asked, craning her neck. “Oh…oy.”
_______________________________________________________ [1] That’s the name of a restaurant in Houston, lol. The description is loosely based on the place down here. _______________________________________________________
Disclaimers Apply
A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… Well, I made the spindle… now I have to spin lol. InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink, Dracena and Greywolf are loverly and wondermous for archiving/hosting. J ProPhile: Now that song is stuck in my head. *poke* Morgan: *not so subtle stalk* Readers/Reviewers: Thank you so much for reading and reviewing as you can! The Killer Kitties appreciate it. J
“Bugger.” Mark exhaled softly, gripping the seatbelt across his chest as Lance swung the car onto the side street Mystique indicated as a shortcut around construction. “Tell me, what are the requirements for obtaining a license to drive here?” Mark muttered, bracing himself again as Lance took a hard left.
“Not stringent enough,” Mystique replied from the back seat, her tone softly quelling but amused. She hissed under her breath as Lance applied the brakes a little more forcefully than necessary, making them all lurch forward in their seats.
“Here you are,” the teenager said sullenly, glaring at Mystique in the rearview mirror. He did not like having her in the car, did not like being the chauffer for her and Mark. Especially to this place. “What the Hell is The Black Lab? [1] Some freaky BDSM club?” He leaned over the steering while, trying to peer into the darkened windows of the restaurant, trying to assess the nature of the beast. “I’ve never heard of it…”
“No reason why you should have in any case,” Mark pointed out, opening the passenger side door. “It’s a restaurant,” he added, reaching to open the door for Mystique. “Weren’t you supposed to have Todd and Amara with you?”
“Yeah…” Lance made a face, clearly not wishing to follow that line of conversation. Instead, he fixed Mark with an odd look as he helped Mystique from the car, offering her his hand and guiding her over the standing water by the curb. “Uh, what time should I get you?”
“We’ll call,” Mystique put in before Mark could reply. She shut the door firmly with her free hand, her left still held loosely in Mark’s. Lance hesitated a moment, straining forward still, trying to see into the darkened window of the place, before driving off a bit faster than legal, swinging around the corner and onto the main drag of town without noticing the stop sign. “Well,” Mystique said after the briefest hesitation, “that was…”
“An experiment in faith affirmation,” Mark finished, venting a soft sigh. “I’m sure he will have some interesting things to relay to the other students when he returns to the Institute.” He debated, momentarily, whether to release he hand or not, but Mystique answered that question for him but closing her fingers around his and squeezing slightly.
“All flights of fancy,” Mystique responded with an answering sigh. “So… shall we?”
Mark nodded, leading her to the red painted door of the small establishment. “This is the only vaguely British place within a hundred miles, I fear. I hear that there are some in Manhattan but…” He trailed off as he pulled the door open.
“This is lovely,” she said flatly. “It seems so, anyway.” The inside was dark and had a vague blue haze of smoke, being one of the last places in the area that allowed cigarette and cigar smoking on the premises. “I haven’t had English food in years.” She smiled down at Mark as he lead her to a booth in the very back of the place, the faint glow of overhead lamps lighting their path to the wooden seats and smoky corner. She fell silent as a waiter appeared at their table, dropping menus with ill grace before depositing two sweating glasses of water, then whisking away without further adieu. “Ah, good to see they have service standards.”
“Just like home,” Mark sighed with mock wistfulness. Mystique snorted in amusement, looking vaguely embarrassed that the noise had come from her before Mark joined with a quiet laugh. “You’ve been to England…where else have you traveled?” He leaned towards her, the sudden and raucous laughter from the other side of the restaurant bespeaking a dart game dipped in strong beer.
“Oh,” she sighed, the façade of a pale brunette masking the dull flush rising in her cheeks, “everywhere, it seems. I’ve even been to Antartica.” She smiled widely at his surprised expression, taking a sip of her cold water. “It was a research station,” she shrugged. “Part of my job.”
Mark nodded, considering the many things he could say at that moment before taking a deep breath. “Been to Germany then?” She went very still, the smile freezing on her lips for just a fraction of a moment before she eased into a more natural position, her body relaxing as if by force. “I only ask,” Mark hurried, aware that the seconds were stretching on far too long, too silently, “because that was the last place I visited before accepting the position with the Institute. I stayed in Baden Baden with an old friend of mine…” He was aware that he was babbling but could not seem to stop himself, his accent thickening and changing from the neutral, London-tinged tone he used for professional interactions to a fair Geordie accent, something Mystique noted with a raised brow.
“I’ve spent time in Germany,” she said with the slightest hint of a chill in her voice. “But never Baden Baden.” She picked up her menu and flipped through it distractedly, her lips pursing in what seemed to be annoyance. “Lots of meat in British cuisine.”
Mark cleared his throat. “Yes, a lot of organ meat in some regional specialties. Depends on where you go, really.” He signaled the waiter, feeling the deep and sudden need for a beer. “So any plans for summer break yet?”
Mystique looked at him with a glitter of amusement mingling with annoyance in her eyes. “Working. I always work. I don’t take holidays anymore.” She leaned back as the waiter took Mark’s drink order, shaking her head when he turned to her. “No thank you. I’m abstaining this evening.” Mark did not react to the edge of a double entendre in her words. “I’m sorry to hear about the library. You put so much work into it.” She paused, setting the menu down and reaching over to place her hand lightly on his. “It’s not because of you…”
“What do you mean by that?” he asked, his brows creeping upwards. The clatter of a tray drew his attention towards the front of the restaurant where huge, dark form blocked the door. “Oy…”
“What?” Mystique asked, craning her neck. “Oh…oy.”
_______________________________________________________ [1] That’s the name of a restaurant in Houston, lol. The description is loosely based on the place down here. _______________________________________________________