Quixotic

Quixotic Chapter Five (NC-17)

Disclaimers Apply

 

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST
WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta…I’m still on a fic
high from the one you sent me…If you like slash, go see Foxy’s
site—www.Foxfeather.de I’ll wait… You back?
Okay, good… InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink and Dracena are sparkley
lovely people for hosting/archiving! J ProPhile is an extra squishy smutmuse
(squishy is good! I promise! At least for muses!) Readers/Reviewers: Ducks…they’re cute but
insidiously evil. They’re teaming with
the armadillos to spread terror through the hearts of readers everywhere… And in the meantime…Thank you for reading
and reviewing when you can!!!

 

 

 

Jubilee
sighed. Negative. Just like she knew it would be. Better safe than sorry, she told
herself, jumping slightly as the door to her room swung open. She stuffed the test stick into her pocket,
trying not to think of what was on it, and smiled brightly at Jean. “You spend more time in here than in your
own house, girl.”

Jean
grimaced. “My one day off from work and
school and I get stuck with the power control classes. Which is actually why I need you…”

“Aw, Jean…I
never knew!” Jubilee swooned
artistically and fluttered her eyelashes.

“Goof,” the
older girl snorted. “I need you to help
demonstrate control methods.”

“Huh?” Jubilee frowned and scratched the bridge of
her nose. “There’s not a whole lot to
it… Just…want to…”

“Well we
can do it but a lot of those kids are having a hell of a time trying not to
read minds or blow things up… Remy’s on his way down to help out and I figured
you’d like to join in.”

Jubilee
patted her pocket unconsciously. “Uh,
sure…I’ll be right down…”

Jean smiled
in relief. “Good. Hey, that Skin guy was asking about
you. Said you bailed on him last
night?”

“Oh,
fuck. I was supposed to go with him to
the movies… Forgot!” In truth, she had been
buying her home pregnancy test and staring at it on her bathroom counter,
trying to convince herself to take it.
She sighed. “Did he seem
pissed?”

Jean
shrugged. “Just kind of sad, really.
Okay, I have to hurry…ten minutes?”

“You got
it, ace.” Her grin was fixed and tight
as Jean shot her one last, curious glance and shut the door between them. Withigh igh of relief on several levels, she
dumped the test unceremoniously into the trash and threw some tissues on top of
it. I’ll take that out tonight when
everyone’s busy… Another knock at
the door made her grimace. She knew
this one. “Come in, Remy!”

He was
frowning deeply as he opened the door.
“Chere, you seen my bo?”

“Uh…no…” Raking her fingers through her newly
green-tipped hair, she asked, “You never lose things…where’d you put it?”

“If I knew
dat, why I be askin’?” He sighed
roughly. “Merde, dis not good. Someone round here a thief.”

“Besides
us?”

“Oui,
beside us,” he said with a clipped cadence.
He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the
doorframe. “Who de Hell coulda taken
dat widdout me knowin’?”

“Well…Kitty
could have phased in and taken it…”
They both exchanged looks and snorted.
“Right…not Kitty. Kurt?”

“He were in
bed all las’ night an’ dis mornin’…” Remy
shook his head. “I mus’ be getting’
old…”

“You know
that’s not true. Someone has it…” She made a face. “Damn it…Jean’s calling me.”

“Tell her I
be down in a few, d’accord?”

“Sure…hurry,
though. Don’t leave me alone with her!”
Jubilee gave him a quick kiss as she dashed past and left him in her room.

Remy
frowned to himself, not quite sure what was off about Jubilee’s behavior but
knowing that it was something. An’
if dat Skin kid come lookin’ round for her ‘gain, I may kick his ass… He kicked savagely at nothing as he thought
this and ended up upsetting her desk chair, which in turn knocked over her
trashcan. “Merde…” Ignoring Jean’s insistent niggling in his mind,
he bent to scoop the papers back into the can, but drew back as if snakebit. “Merde!”

 

“Dude, this
is beyond fucked up…”

“Shhh! He’ll make us do something weird
again!” Bobby huddled over the sticks
he was piling for no apparent reason.
“Humor him!”

“There’s a
fine line between humoring him and going over the deep end. We crossed that line about tenutenutes
ago!” St John snapped a twig in
half. “That does it… I’m going back
in!”

“Slow down
there,” Sam said with a slight smile.
“As long as we’re out here, we’re not in the Danger Room, or on kitchen
duty, or any of the other chores Logan and Storm assigned us.”

“Yeah…” Light of understanding dawned in St John’s
eyes. “Oh…”

Sam’s smile
widened. “There’s worse things to do
than spend the day running around in the woods acting like twits.”

Kurt chose
that moment to appear on the branches overhead. Somewhere, he had found a length of twine and had made a very
crude bow. He now wore an overlarge
shirt atop his uniform, obviously stolen from Beast ogan gan given the length
of the arms and the sheer volume of white fabric involved. He had loosely slung his uniform belt over
the whole kit and tucked some long, newly pointy sticks into the fastening in
back. “Men!” he called loudly, waving
the bow overhead, “Night will come sooner than you think in these woods! We must make ready the shelter!”

Scott
opened his mouth to protest, but snapped it shut nearly audibly. Taking a deep breath, he hazarded, “Well,
er…Robin? Where’s your British accent[1]?”

That gave
Kurt pause. He lowered his bow and
frowned, tucking his chin in thought. A
moment passed and he brightened, throwing his head back in hest est cavalier
laugh. “It is a trick! A trick of the evil wizard to make you think
you follow a false leader!”

“Evil…”
Todd raised his eyebrows. “There’s no
evil wizard in Robin Hood, yo…”

Scott
sighed. “Humor him…”

Kurt was
blithely ranting onward. “This wizard,
he holds my fair Maid Marian captive!
On the morrow, we will away and rescue her!”

“I don’t
think Kitty’s gonna want to be rescued from a nice, warm house,” Lance muttered.

Kurt
dropped from the branch with scarcely a thud.
“Much, Will Scarlet…begin gathering the materials for our shelter!” He motioned Jamie and Todd to their new
duties.

Lance tried
to hide behind Scott but to no avail.
“Procure us some fine ale, lads!
There is a heavily traveled road between here and yon keep, full of fat
hens clucking over rich eggs…”

“Where the
Hell did he learn to talk like that?” Lance muttered.

“When we
get back in the house, I’m confiscating his entire Errol Flynn collection,”
Scott rejoined. “I think he wants us to
steal dinner…”

“Does that
mean we get to go inside where it’s warm?” Lance asked through clenched teeth
as Kurt assigned the other assembled mutants to their duties.

“Yes…”

“Not a
problem then.”

 

Beast was
looking forward to a sandwich. He was really
looking forward to it. So it was with
great chagrin that he found Scott and Lance piling several plastic grocery bags
full of the contents of the refrigerator.
“Might I ask the nature of this raid?” he inquired dryly.

Scott
looked up guiltily. “We’re humoring
Kurt.”

“He’s
developed a ravenous appetite? More so
than usual, I mean?”

“No…”

Lance
snorted and popped a cherry tomato into his mouth. “You’re the Fearless Leader.
You tell him.”

Scott
sighed and related to Beast the tale of Robin Kurt, or Kurt Hood, he could not
quite decide which sounded better. His
eyes lit as a thought occurred to him.
“Hey…you should come back out with us….Maybe you can talk him down from
this fantasy…”

“I must
protest…I am not a merry man.”[2] He smiled faintly, however. “I suppose you do need Little John,
don’t you?”

“Welcome to
the weird side,” Lance muttered.

 

Kitty was
brushing her hair, humming to herself along with the radio, wondering what Kurt
had in mind for that night. I kind
of hope it’s not some costume drama again… That got us into enough
trouble. Maybe something…else? I wonder if I should suggest the gazebo?

“Yoiks and
away!”[3]


“What
the…” A dark figure hit her window with
a sick thud before sliding down.

“Ouch,”
Todd moaned in his best E.T. impression, hanging from her sill by his
fingers.

“Todd! What
the Hell are you doing?” she hissed, throwing the window open.

He grinned
up at her. “I’m Will Scarlet.”

“Oh,
God…it’s contagious!”

“Kurt’s
gone Robin Hood on us, yo,” he said as seriously as he could manage while
hanging two stories off the ground.
“We’ve been recruited. Oh, and I
think you’re Maid Marian.”

“Can you
make it down on your own?”

“Sha! Not a problem!”

“I’m going
to go get Beast…”

“Who do you
think is Little John?”

“What?” Her question went unanswered as Todd dropped
to the ground. “Damn it!”

 

Kurt
sharpened yet another stick with a grim determination. “This wizard is evil, lads… He will not be easy to defeat.”

Jamie
sighed. “Kurt…you need a nap.”

Kurt
laughed under his breath. “When night
falls, I shall leave Will and Much in charge of the glen. I have an assignation with a lady…”

Jamie
raised a brow. “In the evil wizard’s castle?”

“No,” Kurt
said patiently, “in Crotchet Castle!”[4]
Satisfied with his “arrow”, he set it atop his growing pile.

“Looks like
you aren’t going to have to wait for your…er…assignation…” Jamie nodded towards the house. Kitty was storming towards them with a
furious expression, her hair flying about her face, loose from it’s usual
binding, her hands fisted at her sides.


Kurt smiled
happily and tossed his remaining sticks to the ground. He jogged to meet Kitty before she could
enter the “camp.” She was caught off
guard by his embrace, her feet leaving the ground with a sudden jerk as he
swung her around. “Liebes!” he
sighed. “You risked your hide to come
find me out here!”

“Uh…yeah…
look, Kurt, we need to talk…”

“Shh,” he
crooned, pressing a finger against her lips.
“Time for talking later. Now, we
must get you fed. You’re all
bones! Come!”

Kitty felt
like she was entering the world’s worst Renaissance Faire as Kurt pulled her
into his makeshift Sherwood. Most of
the older males of the Institute sat around various projects, most involving
sticks and, for some reason, duct tape.
Some were making odd arrows, some were making what looked to be a child’s
fort and Todd seemed to have the strangest job of all. He was swinging from ropes of various
lengths, hung from different branches. I
guess someone needs to do it… “Kurt,
listen…you’re not yourself!”

He paused,
his hand holding hers flexing convulsively.
Finally, he said, “I don’t believe you have met Little John!”

She felt
her lips tighten in annoyance and concern.
“No, I haven’t…” Beast came
lumbering over, looking sheepish. “Hello…Little
John.”

“He’s okay,
Kitty,” he murmured sotto voce. “I’m
keeping an eye on them. I’m going to
convince him that we can all go into the house tonight once it gets dark… Don’t worry.”

“How can
you say that?” she cried, heedless of Kurt’s confused look. “Beast, he thinks he’s Robin Hood!”

“It’s
temporary…and this is mostly harmless.”
Gently, he said, “Kitty, I know this is difficult but have patience.”

She wanted
to kick him hard in the shins. “Patience. Right.” She wheeled to face Kurt and said in her best British accent, the
one that made Jono cringe on behalf of his countrymen, she said, “My dearest
lord, I fear returning to the castle in this gathering dusk…please, I beg of
you, guide me?”

He smiled
winningly. “Of course, my love! Will!
John! I shall return on the
morrow!”

As she was
being led off, Kitty hissed back at Beast, “Like Hell!”



[1] I know
ProPhile wasn’t the only one wondering…
And that reminds me of the line from Robin Hood: Men in Tights…
“And unlike some Robin Hoods, I speak with a real English
accent!”

[2] That was for
Ramsey. * G * It’s from Star Trek TNG…

[3] One of my
favorite Warner Brothers cartoons—Sherwood Daffy. Daffy was Robin Hood, Porky was Friar
Tuck. “Yoiks and away!” was Daffy’s ill
fated rallying cry… “Actually, it’s a
buck and a quarter quarter staff, but I’m not going to tell him that…”

[4] In some
stories, Maid Marian lived in Crotchet Castle.