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Perfectly Normal
By : Nemain
Category: X-Men - Animated Series (all) > FemSlash - Female/Female
Views: 6947 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0Disclaimer: 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. -
Chapter List
- 1-Perfectly Normal
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
- 8-8
- 9-9
- 10-10
- 11-11
- 12-12
- 13-13
- 14-14
- 15-15
- 16-16
- 17-17
- 18-18
- 19-19
- 20-20
- 21-21
- 22-22
- 23-23
- 24-24
- 25-25
- 26-26
- 27-27
- 28-28
- 29-29
- 30-30
- 31-31
- 32-32
- 33-33
- 34-34
- 35-35
- 36-36
- 37-37
- 38-38
- 39-39
- 40-40
- 41-41
- 42-42
- 43-43
- 44-44
- 45-45
- 46-46
- 47-47
- 48-48
- 49-49
- 50-50
- 51-51
- 52-52
- 53-53
- 54-54
- 55-55
- 56-56
- 57-57
- 58-58
- 59-59
- 60-60
- 61-61
- 62-62
- 63-Mise en Scene: Coffee and Cream
Perfectly Normal Chapter
Forty ThreeDisclaimers Apply
A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST
WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… Downside of the soap
making…you smell like *every single oil you use * for days… Moof. InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink, Dracena and
Greywolf are loverly and wondermous for archiving/hosting. J ProPhile: Knowing how
the universe works, the pancakes probably sucked. Morgan: Hello? *echo echo echo* Readers/Reviewers: Thank you SO much for
sticking with me and reading and reviewing as you can! *glomps all *“I hate you
a little right now.”“That means
we have a healthy relationship,” Todd replied with a slight smile. “If you loved me all the time, we’d both die
from sugar shock, yo.”“Don’t ‘yo’
me,” Rogue replied quietly, her spandex-clad arm touching Todd’s bare one, the only way she could touch him in public
and not get flack from her friends or from the older mutants in charge. “We had a deal.”“Right,
right,” Todd muttered. “I don’t yo at you, you don’t say weird Southern things
at me.” Out of the corner of his eye, he
saw Rogue nod firmly, her lips pressed into a thin line. He hesitated a moment and leaned closer,
dropping his voice to a whisper. “But I
LIKE the Southern thing…”“Be.
Quiet.” Storm slammed the flat of her hand down on the long, oaken dining
table, making Rogue and Todd jump and everyone else fix them with hard,
somewhat nervous looks before turning attention back to the front of the
room.“Small
problem,” Logan
began, his voice ragged with irritation and sheer mental tiredness. “Seems our hand’s been tipped.” He glanced over each of the faces in the
room, the handful he knew like the back of his own hand and those who were
knew, still unfamiliar but showing their emotions so clearly he had no doubt
that they were scared and nervous and uncertain. Not a traitor in the bunch, he thought with a
small glimmer of satisfaction that surprised him. “We’re working on fixing things but until you
get the okay from us… NO talking to the documentary bunch. NO powers. No matter
WHAT happens.” He did not glare at Jubilee;
she had a rough enough time as it was with everyone else doing it, pinning
their fear on her startled reaction to being intruded upon. Instead, he moved to stand next to Storm at
the head of the table, the urge to put his hand on the nape of her neck and rub
gently making his fingers itch. She
looked beyond tired, every travail and trial of the past few months writ large
in her eyes. He could smell the exhaustion on her, the lack of kyphi[1] on
her skin speaking volumes about her daily routine, how it had done to Hell in a
hand basket since the start of their troubles at the Institute. He missed it, missed the comforting scent of
it as it seemed to envelope her even hours after she had used it, teasing his
senses and his alone, too faint for anyone else to notice. Stifling a soft sigh, he did as much as he
could, simply standing next to her and taking the reins, taking some of the
cautious fear from the students on himself.
“And one more thing…no outings.
No one leaves the grounds, period.
We need to keep an eye on who goes where and make sure no one is
followed. Kitty’s the only one allowed
to leave and she has an escort to the train station and back. Understood?”
He waited for the silent chorus of nods before continuing. “The basement is off limits, as is the
library.” He held up a hand, stemming
the burgeoning questions he could hear being given breath on young lips. “Just do it.
Don’t question it.” He paused,
letting the silence stretch for nearly half a minute before finishing his
spiel. “You’re all confined to your
dormitory floors for the rest of the night.
Stay out of each other’s rooms!” he added as the cacophony of wooden
chairs on a marble floor nearly overrode his voice. He did not move from his post at the table
until the last student had trailed through the door and footsteps sounded
overhead. Only then did he shift to lean
against Storm, lacing his fingers through hers and sighing loudly in the
now-empty dining hall.“Do you
ever wake up and wonder if this is better or worse than before you came here?”
she mused softly, squeezing the warm hardness of his hand in her fingers. Distantly, some part of her mind wondered
about the metal lacing his body, the sharp blades in his skin, and a curl of
nausea blossomed in her belly. She hated
thinking of it, knowing it, but when she felt his hand in hers, felt the warmth
over the metal, she could not help it.“Every
time,” he murmured. “I’m divided on it,
really… Before, I was just cage fighting, traveling… no worries, ya know?
Now…” He blew out a harsh breath and
shook his head, his gaze focused on some point visible only to him, some memory
or revelation only he knew. “Now there’s
kids everywhere, lies to be told,
paperwork, training…”“I miss
Africa,” she said in a voice so soft it could barely be heard, even by Logan. “I miss the simplicity of it, the complexity
of it. I miss before.” She shifted then, fixing him with a bright,
intense gaze. “But I would not go back
to it, not if it meant missing this.”
She licked her lips quickly, finding them suddenly too dry in her need
to cry. “Even with Evan…”Logan groaned mostly to
himself and pulled her against his chest, feeling her tense first then settle
into his embrace. “It could be worse,
‘Ro,” he mused gently.“Oh?”
“Mmm…” he paused,
the tell tale patter of footsteps heading towards them from the kitchen. Mystique, still clad in her guise of a pale,
dark haired woman, stopped in the doorway between the kitchen and the dining
room, her eyes flaring wide for just one moment, a can of whipped cream in one
hand and a bottle of wine in the other.“Hello,”
she nodded, her voice carefully modulated as she continued her trek across the
hall. “Good evening.”Logan felt Storm shudder
against him and realized, after a moment, that she was laughing. “Never mind,” he groaned. “With that mental image, there’s no way it
could be worse now…”A/N Next chapter, smut and the newspaper.
[1]
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kyphi- You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
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