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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.

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
- 57
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- 59
Perfectly Normal Chapter Fifty Eight

Disclaimers Apply
A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE �, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta� *second day jitters lol * InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink, Dracena and Greywolf are loverly and wondermous for archiving/hosting. J ProPhile: I had something to say here but it�s not coming to mind now. Morgan: *stalkgloke * Readers/Reviewers: This one is a mite short but it�s got content lol. Thanks for reading and reviewing as you can! J

Magneto passed his hand over his tired eyes, feeling the absence of Incubus keenly. When we was there, living inside him in a painless symbiotic twist, he felt strong, more alive than he had even as a young man, before all of everything had conspired to fall on him in an avalanche of confusion and complexity. Charles, he thought, had it easy, heart attack aside. He was on vacation in a beautiful, isolated valley, free from the cares of the Institute, free from anything worldly, really, should he choose to be in that quiet town. Incubus was out wandering, Magneto�s thoughts trailed back to the fore, and leaving him alone in the cavernous silence of the Institute�s home base, feeling weak, feeling the tiny particles of illness creeping in his veins settle in, mark him for the end of all things. They were so close to finding the key, so close before Tarot vanished with Pietro. He knew that he could find them if he chose but right now, he thought, he did not care. Let them run, let them try. They will always return to the fold. Muir Island was not as far as some places but it would wear him to the bone, he knew, even with Mystique at his side. Mystique� he let his thoughts trail off. She was his right hand, his annoying, little used conscience. She had been there for so long that he sometimes thought he had created her out of his own needs, his own lack of a partner. She is not my Galatea, he chided himself lightly. I am not Pygmalion, molding her to my liking. He knew she cared for Mark and did not desire to dwell on that notion as he sat in the lengthening shadows of the study. He did not wish to consider that maybe she had been unhappy, truly unhappy, for all the years of her service unto him. Instead, he stood and rolled his shoulders, hearing his bones creak. Bones that survived horrors too numerous to name, too nebulous to define now as they hurried through his mind and tried to hide behind memories of more pleasant things. Horrors both mundane and fantastic haunted his dreams�he forcible shut them out of his waking life. With a soft, uncharacteristic sigh, he turned towards the study door then froze in his tracks. �Artie, what can I help you with?�

Artie tilted his head to one side, scratching his hip through his loose trousers. Under one arm, a travel chess set was tucked, barely half the size of a standard board. Between Magneto and him, a vision sprang to life.

Magneto raised a brow, both intrigued and annoyed. �Chess? I�m afraid I don�t have the time.� The vision glowed brighter, more insistent. He did not like the silent communication but he knew he really had no choice with Artie. �Maybe later��

Artie�s shoulders moved in a silent sigh and he strode past Magneto to the narrow side table by the sofa. Efficiently, he set up the travel board with it�s magnet-based pieces, sliding glances at Magneto the entire time. The projected image had faded as Artie replaced it with reality, but Magneto still looked vaguely incredulous. Tapping the edge of the board, Artie sat down on the sofa.

�Artie, I appreciate your efforts at intellectual stimulation,� Magneto began, then paused. �Oh, blast it.� Pulling up the spindly legged Chippendale chair from beside the desk, he sat across from Artie, feeling mildly ridiculous with his knees tucked so closely to the end table, facing the misshapen youth with the wide, luminous eyes. �You move first.�

Artie nodded curtly and began. A small, faint image shimmered to life beside Magneto, almost like a glowing moth, taking shape and swirling into being. It was a book, the name obscured by the shimmering glow, but the pages were flipping. Artie sat back, folding his hands in his lap, waiting.

Magneto glanced at the image, then shifted his attention to the game. Artie had executed an interesting opening gambit, making the older man want to laugh with pleasure. This might be interesting after all, he thought. The plane would not be ready to go for a few hours yet and Mystique�Lord knew Mystique would not pack quickly. He could make time to finish the game, he decided. It would be a sliver of normalcy in an otherwise hectic day.
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