Wirklich ein Engel(truly an Angel)

~*~*~*~*~*~*Author’s note~*~*~*~*~*~

This chapter is dedicated to Thistle, my muse and good friend. I agreed to put in a few warm fuzzies before I got too mean, and I still haven’t decided how mean to be.
~~Athlea Kelly

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Martha’s eyes grew wide indeed behind her thick glasses and she clapped a hand over her mouth.

“Is it dangerous?” She asked breathlessly, one hand on her heart as she peered down at the photograph.

“Probably, but we hurt it pretty bad the other day.” One of the other young men, a short, stocky youth interjected. “We just wanna make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone before we can take him back where he belongs.”

“You’re very brave young men, then.” She said solemnly. “I’d be terrified to go near it!”

“Have you seen him though?” Jake asked, wresting back control of the conversation.

Much to the football players’ surprise, the old woman with her brittle, frosted blond hair, nodded, a grimace on her lined face.

“Across the street,” She said darkly. “He’s in the house right across from mine, and three young women live there!”

The young men exchanged dark looks. At least now they knew where to go, but how the hell were they going to get him out of there?

“Ma’am, would it be alright if we parked our truck in your driveway until we can get him out of there?” Jake asked politely.

“Of course. Anything you boys need.” She said before excusing herself and going back inside to make lemonade. Jake muttered his thanks before looking to Jeffy, who promptly jogged down the street to bring his truck around. While he did that, Jake, Derrick and Bobby watched a beat up old Honda pull into the drive across the street, followed closely by a Volkswagen and a Cadillac. Almost as one a group of six clambered out of the vehicles and trouped to the front door, laughing and joking as if nothing in all the world could be wrong.

Adrenaline pumped through Jake’s veins and he clenched and unclenched his fists. It was better than football, better than driving! It was like an old fashioned stakeout where the cops waited for the right moment to descend on the gangsters of old. He was fucking Humphrey Bogart and this damn mutie was just another mob movie villain. There was no way anything could go wrong.

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Dimitri laughed appreciatively at Artis’s story as he put the key in the lock. It felt like coming home, even if he didn’t technically live there. Talvou, the tall, lean Samoan drama major, had his arm around Anakalia as She and Rachel chatted with Aislyn. Conversation ceased however when they came into an empty house, the princess bride still playing on the TV, though it was almost over, Wesley describing to Humperdink what ‘to the pain’ meant. Stew was bubbling in the kitchen, the scent heavy in the air, making stomachs growl despite the sudden worry. Aislyn gave the pot an absent stir despite herself.

“She wouldn’t have left the oven on if she had gone somewhere.” Rachel muttered, though whether it was to herself or the room at large it was unclear. The stillness was suddenly shattered by Dimitri’s ringing peal of laughter.

“Its cool, I found her.” He said, jerking a thumb at the kitchen window as he fought to subdue his mirth. It was a difficult thing to accomplish with the sudden snickers and giggles that sprung from those around him. He made a fervent shushing movement with his hands and put a finger to his lips, creeping out into the yard and peering up at the tree branch where Kurt and Ivy were perched, looking as though glued together at the lips. A wide grin split his face and he took a deep breath before bellowing,

“Kurt and Ivy sittin’ in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!-” though he fell silent as a cherry ricochet off his forehead, Ivy glaring with mock fury at him. Kurt chuckled, half in embarrassment and half in true mirth. He would have been lying if he said he wasn’t relieved that Dimitri had taken the sight of them so well.

“Just shut up, Jackass.” Ivy said with a grin to take the sting from her words as she scooped up the bowl of cherries. “Or I wont make dessert.”

Instantly Dimitri fell silent, putting on a mournful face, even managing to make his lower lip tremble as he let out a fake puppy whine. Then it was Kurt’s turn to laugh, one palm against his face as he watched the two friends interact.

“Fine!” Ivy said with a grin. “you can have dessert.”

“Yay!” He cried, doing a funny little dance, his hands clenched up near his head as he shook one foot. He sobered suddenly though and regarded the diminutive red head with a dead serious expression. “Do Artis, Talvou and me have time to play with the bonk-sticks?”

“Plenty.” She assured him, patting his arm. “I still have to finish making supper, remember?”

“Bonk-sticks?” Kurt asked in confusion.

“Practice swords.” Ivy and Dimitri said in unison. Kurt’s expression brightened considerably, a smile on his face. It had been too long since he’d held a blade, even a practice one.

“Would you mind if I perhaps joined you?” He ventured, glancing at Ivy from the corner of his eye. He saw her give a barley perceptible nod to Dimitri, though it was apparently unneeded, for he seemed quite enthusiastic in his agreement.

Ivy smiled, feeling a great weight lift from her chest as she returned to the kitchen, watching from the window above the sink as she washed the cherries she and Kurt had picked. Talvou and Artis had finally moved into the yard and were withdrawing the blades from the shed next to the house. She couldn’t hear what was said, but from the body language of the four men and the infectious smiles, she figured it was safe to assume they were enjoying themselves. Kurt’s movements were a bit stiff, and he favored one arm as they fought, but still Ivy was enthralled by his almost feline grace.

“Heloooo, earth to Ivy!” Rachel called, tapping her friend on the head. “Are we gonna make a pie or not?”

“yeah, yeah, sure.” She said, shaken from her reverie just in time to get a puff of flour in her pixie face. Anakalia and Aislyn giggled and ducked out of range of retaliation. Ivy joined in. Things were pretty much back to normal, or as normal as they got in this house.

Dinner had even more surprises in store for Nightcrawler. He had done well against the other three men in their mock battles, defeating nearly all of them with ease despite his still sore body. Usually such an easy defeat would leave an opponent bitter, but Artis, Dimitri and Talvou bombarded him with questions on technique and defense while food and drink were passed around the table. It felt good, being able to discuss something he held so dear with these people. They managed to create the atmosphere of family, and with a pang he realized that he was comfortable because it was like being at the Institute. He was among friends. It seemed to Nightcrawler that, once the shock of that morning had worn off, they all seemed willing enough to accept him and welcome him as Ivy had. They had even seen fit to explain a few of their inside jokes or share an amusing story from their high school years together. It was the kind of thing that would have made Professor Xavier glad he had formed the X-Men and continued to believe in their cause.

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Once everyone had eaten their fill, Rachel and Aislyn cleared the dishes while the others returned to the living room to decide what movie to watch.

“Put in Pirates of the Caribbean!” Ivy called with a laugh and a grin Kurt’s way. The blue mutant chuckled and shook his head helplessly, wrapping his arms around Ivy’s waist and kissing her neck. He was going to miss her. She seemed to be of like mind, her expression turning somber, almost wistful. He sighed and rested his forehead against hers. It may have been unintentional, and she may have forgiven him, but he had still hurt her. He couldn’t help but wonder how many women he had done that to with his, what he had thought to be, harmless flirting. And, had he done that to Christine as well by driving her away? It still puzzled him how girls like Ivy, Amanda and Christine could accept and care about him so quickly, so easily. Maybe that was what worried him most when he was in relationships. It seemed too easy, it made him uncomfortable when he didn’t have to earn something like that, as though he didn‘t deserve it.

Through his pondering he and Ivy had wandered back out into the yard. It was quiet and warm despite coming darkness, and with a full stomach he felt sleepy and sluggish. He tried vainly to stifle a yawn, grinning at Ivy’s chuckle. His reply came in the form of a flower, expertly plucked from a nearby lilac bush and presented to her with his tail. She accepted it with a slight pink tint rising to her cheeks, raising one hand to trace one of his pointed ears, though she drew her hand away sharply when he gave a strange, spasmodic jerk and toppled. She lurched forward to try and catch him, but he was too heavy and bore them both to the ground. He was one of the X-Men, highly trained in hand to hand combat, an expert in line of sight teleportation and a skilled swordsman, but none of that mattered if he couldn’t see his attacker.

“Kurt?” Ivy asked, panic rising in her throat like bile. She tilted his face upward, but his eyes were glazed and his attempts at movement feeble at best. “Oh god..” She murmured, smoothing his hair back from his face. A dart was protruding from the back of his neck, standing out garishly against his deep blue fur. Anger overriding her sudden panic she plucked it out, though she barely had time to glance up, much less scream as four frighteningly familiar figures rushed into her yard, through her gate and over the fence, one of them clutching what could only be the tranquilizer gun that had shot Kurt. The others were wielding everything from baseball bats to hockey sticks. She never knew which hit her as she spiraled into darkness.