Perfectly Normal | By : Nemain Category: X-Men - Animated Series (all) > FemSlash - Female/Female Views: 6947 -:- Recommendations : 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. |
Perfectly Normal Chapter
Forty Two
Disclaimers Apply
A/N: Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST
WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… *yawn * Tis the
season for naps. Long, long naps… InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink, Dracena and
Greywolf are loverly and wondermous for archiving/hosting. J ProPhile: *random glomp since days have been crap * Morgan: *stalk of not so
sneaky witch * Readers/Reviewers: Thank you so much for reading and reviewing
as you can! I may have an alternate to the AFFN issue… maybe. Stay tuned, lol.
“This is…unexpected.”
Magneto
took a long draught of his coffee before leaning across the table to murmur, “Stop
looking at me like that. We’re about to
become the poster men for Gay Pride.” He
leaned back, shooting a cold glare at the girl behind the counter, giggling to
the one sitting across the bar from her. They had been shooting them glances
for the past twenty minutes, speculating as to the nature of the relationship
of the two men. “I dearly wish slapping
a child in public was legal.”
Professor
Xavier managed to cover a snort with a cough, his subtle suggestion to the two
girls, so quiet and careful that they truly believed it was their own idea,
seemed to work as they focused their attention on the new creamer flavors,
pondering aloud the veganization of cream. “It’s a shame when two grown men can’t enjoy
cups of coffee without having to exert mind control over teenaged girls,” he
replied dryly. “Though, from what I’ve
seen in the news of late, that’s rather a good thing that most grown men can’t.” He sipped his coffee again, watching his old
friend’s face for some sign that he was paying attention. “I trust that my home is still standing?”
“All in one
piece,” Magneto replied flatly, pushing his paper cup of coffee aside with a
mild sneer of disgust. “However, your
little documentary crew is raising more questions than we are prepared to
answer…” he trailed off, not wanting to sound as if he could not handle a
simple problem, something that should have been well within his sphere of
influence. “It’s…interesting, taking the
reins.” He smiled tightly, adding, “The
Boardinghouse never had this many problems.”
Professor
Xavier bit his tongue on what he thought of the Boardinghouse. “How is Fred?” he asked finally. By his silent count, that was the only member
of the Brotherhood’s young contingent that was unaccounted for, that might
still be in the rundown hovel that stood for the boardinghouse. “I haven’t…seen tell of him for a while now.” Even on his regular scans with Cerebro, he thought to himself.
“Mister
Dukes is not a matter for concern right now,” Magneto replied crisply, folding
his hands on the table before him. “Neither
is my son or his…girlfriend.” The last word was infused with utter loathing and
contempt. Tarot was unsuitable on as
many levels as Magneto could think of in as far as being a match for Pietro, but she was smart and devious and had only the
faintest trace of rebellion in her, all traits that made her a very suitable
match for the Brotherhood’s upper echelon of operations.
Professor
Xavier raised a brow, leaning back carefully in his chair. His body ached nearly beyond reason and he
was wondering if maybe leaving the hospital had been a good idea after all. Stop being silly. You’re being officially released tomorrow. You’re fine. Just sore from days abed. “I never suggested your offspring,” he
replied mildly. “At any rate, I trust
you left Mystique in charge while you’re out and about?”
Magneto
winced slightly. Incubus stirred at the
mention of Mystique, the subject of much of the ephemeral being’s lust of
late. He had given his personal symbiote a stern lecture the other day and been caught
muttering to himself by none other than Kurt Wagner, the occasional bane of his
existence. Rather than explain the
situation, he had simply turned away and walked calmly to the library, grinding
his teeth the entire time, knowing the furry blue teenager was watching him go
away. “Your home is fine. The problem is
rising from the film crew. It seems they
belong to the Friends of Humanity. This information,” he pressed on, preventing
the Professor from breaking into the speech, “came to me only this
morning. Needless to say, we—being the
adults—are on alert. They do not seem to
realize they are in the hornet’s nest, as it were, but it is only a matter of
time before something tips them off.” He
leaned forward again, his voice low and tight.
“I will not pander to Homo sapiens, Charles. I will use every means at my disposal to
defend mutant kind from their attacks.
Is this understood?”
“Are you
threatening me, Eric?” he shot back, not changing his tone from one of friendly
interest but the implication of displeasure clear in his eyes. “My students and colleagues are perfectly
capable of maintaining their composure,” he continued, stirring the rapidly
cooling liquid in the paper cup before him.
“They will not tip their hand. They know very well how to behave as…non
mutants,” he finished, fixing Magneto with a hard look that bespoke much
irritation.
Magneto
opened his mouth to respond, then paused, his gaze
flickering to the television over the coffee bar. “Oh dear.”
“Did you
just say ‘oh dear’?” Professor Xavier mused, a smile tugging at his lips. “Eric,
I believe you’ve gone soft in your advanced years…” He shifted, trying to find what his old
companion was looking at, and froze. “Oh, dear…” The television over the bar was alight with a
breaking news story, a building in flames and surrounded by rescue crews and
fire trucks. “Is that…”
“Yes,”
Magneto replied tersely, “it is.”
His throat going
dry, Professor Xavier cracked his fingers in agitation. “Did you…”
“No!” Magneto
was on his feet, shoving his hat on his head and jerking his coat closed. “I had nothing to do with it.” He moved around the table and took hold of
Professor Xavier’s chair. “Saint Dymphna’s catching fire is purely outside of my realm of
evil.”
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