Tempest in a Teapot | By : Nemain Category: X-Men - Animated Series (all) > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2499 -:- 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. |
A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… Moof. InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink, Dracena and Greywolf are loverly and wondermous for archiving/hosting. J ProPhile: Rested yet? Morgan: *gloke * Readers/Reviewers: Just two more chapters and then back to long fics, lol. Thanks for reading/reviewing! J
Kitty patted Kurt’s elbow anxiously. He was preening, or trying to, and shot her an agitated glare. Earlier, on her arrival, he had let out a loud whoop and leapt at her before vanishing, reappearing several feet behind her and looking stunned. Beast had tried to reassure her, tell her that he was improving, having moments where he seemed to realize something was wrong, but so far Kitty could not see it. “Kurt, listen to me…”
“WHOOP!”
“Kurt, you’re not a crane.” She paused, then sighed. “You know, this is much easier when there’s some mutant force involved.”
Logan glanced over at her from his position by Storm’s bed and raised a brow. “You know, I think we need a vacation. Somewhere away from giant killer robots and freakish teas.” Storm giggled in the bed beside him and he sighed again. Somewhere, the woman had found mass quantities of silver glitter and apparently, rolled in it. “Hey, Tinkerbell, need some water?”
Todd giggled in an alarmingly girlish fashion from the next bed. “Water, boy!” he said, waving an imperious arm.
Logan growled in response but did not get a chance to expound on his thoughts as the door to the infirmary swung open and a shouting Mark was carried in bodily. Saint John had the librarian by the knees and Scott was stationed at Mark’s shoulders, the two teenagers trying to maneuver without banging into walls or equipment. Jubilee followed, pressing halves of coconut shells over her ears. “My *GOD* he’s loud!” she shouted over the din.
“Jubes,” Kitty asked slowly as Beast hurried from his office to help secure Mark in one of the empty beds, “where did you get those?”
“Puberty.”
Kitty blushed a deep pink. “No, the shells. Um… did you drink some of the funny tea, too?”
“No, Mark was galloping with these… I think he’s a closet Monty Python fan.” Jubilee dropped the shells on the empty bed next to Kurt and flopped down next to them. “As some of the few sane people remaining here, I think we need to formulate a plan.”
“Yeah,” Rogue muttered, pushing Todd back onto the bed, “drink coffee.” With a groan of annoyance, she pushed a struggling Todd back down again. “You’ve been cursed by a wicked witch to remain asleep for a thousand years,” she intoned in a mystical sounding voice. “Only true love’s kiss can awaken you.”
Todd opened his mouth for a brief second, as if to protest, then promptly fell flat on his back on the bed, his arms crossed over his chest like Count Dracula in every bad vampire movie made about the man. Kurt let out a mournful whoop and settled his chin against his chest, eyeing Todd balefully.
“God Aelmihtig[1]!” Mark breathed, sitting up suddenly. As Saint John and Scott both worked to push him back against the pillow, he pointed to Rogue.
“What’s he saying?” Kitty muttered to Beast, who was watching the entire proceeding with something akin to a jaundiced eye.
“My old English is poor, but something about an enchantress or sorceress. Or possibly,” he added after a brief pause, “a large weasel.” He motioned Scott and Saint John away from Mark and bent low, checking the librarian’s pulse and making a note on the chart.
“CREOPATH ATT HAM, DEORCYNN!”[2]
Beast shook his head and sighed. “Now is that really called for?”
Kitty felt the burgeoning headache behind her eyes slip towards a full on migraine. Using the distraction that Mark provided, she phased through the floor into the basement level below and made her way back towards the elevators. She needed a drink and an aspirin, she decided. And maybe a primal therapy session[3].
Kitty found the kitchen to be empty. On the table sat a clear jar of a liquid that she hoped was tea, because the alternative, given it’s appearance, was disturbing. A brown paper bag with heavy oil stains lay on the counter, emptied of it’s contents. The faint smell of herbs perfumed the air, underscored by an acrid tang. It smells chemical. Like…acid or something. She frowned, walking slowly around the kitchen, sniffing hard as if she were a human bloodhound. Where’s Rahne when you need her? After a complete circuit of the kitchen, she still could not trace the source of the acrid, acidic smell. “Damn it,” she sighed, dropping into one of the chairs around the table. The golden liquid in the jar caught the late afternoon sunlight streaming through the window and sent tiny spots dancing across Kitty’s bare arms. “What the…” Black flecks were floating in the tea, like tiny particles of oxidized metal. Carefully, Kitty unscrewed the lid and wafted the aroma rising from the jar towards her. “Whoa!” It burned her nose and made her eyes water. “If this is what they’ve been drinking, no wonder they’re screwed up!”
A/N Next chapter—Who will figure it out first, the lab or Kitty? And what’s a knight to do when a faerie is bored? ;)
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[1] Pretty much just what it looks like. “God almighty!” Though the Normans recorded it as “Godamite” which is likely how it sounded to them.
[2] “Creep homeward, Beast-kind!”
[3] http://www.primaltherapy.com/CORES/warningCore.htm
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