Quixotic

Quixotic Chapter Two (NC-17)

Disclaimers Apply

 

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST
WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta…*dances around
throwing glitter * Wheeee! (no idea…
I’m just in that kind of mood!) InterNutter,
TC, Maxwell Pink and Dracena get huge big heaps of muse kibble for
archiving/hosting! ProPhile gets
smutmuse kibble. Don’t ask. You don’t
want to know. Readers/Reviewers: Aw…really?
Thank you so much!

 

 

 



Kitty,
dressed more decorously than an hour previously, spun a frantic yarn. “We were both wide awake and, um, well, I
was wanting to work some in the Danger Room because I’ve been, like, slacking
off you know?” Her words came out as a
question in her nervousness. “And Kurt
just kind of got…whacked.”

Jean
stifled another yawn behind her hand and added, “I think he’s addled.”

Beast
peered into Kurt’s eyes, wide with something akin to fright, and snapped his
fingers on either side of Kurt’s ears, tracking his reactions. “He might have a concussion…I’d like for him
to stay down here for the rest of the night so I can keep him awake and make
sure he has no adverse reactions other than this tremendous goose egg.”

Kitty
worried her lip before blurting. “We
weren’t doing anything…weird!”

Beast
raised a shaggy brow. “I didn’t
ask…”

Jean tugged
Kitty by the elbow. “Come on, Kit. Let him rest. You can not do anything weird tomorrow. It’s after three. Let’s go.” Reluctantly, Kitty allowed herself to be led
off.

Kurt
watched them go with a slight frown.
“She worries overmuch. I have
fought worse than you!”

Beast
blinked in amusement. “Fought? Kurt, I
have no intention of fighting with you or anyone in this house.”

His frown
deepened. “Do not taunt me, you
beast! I serve my lady’s honor!”

Beast
pressed Kurt back down onto the bed with a gentle push. “Okay, time to go night night…” Kurt made as if to lunge towards the doctor,
a difficult task considering he was laying down, but Beast was quicker. He injected Kurt with a mild sedative that
would lay him low for hours.
“Understand I hate to do this to you, but since I’m up anyway…” He patted Kurt’s quivering arm. “You are a special one, aren’t you?”

 

Kitty was
surprised at how well she slept, considering.
Been through worse, the both of us…a little conk on the head isn’t
the end of the world. He’ll probably
forgive me… She hurried through her
morning routine, dressing in the sweater she knew Kurt liked best because it
was a fuzzy and made him want to touch it.
With a grin to herself, she phased through the floor and into the study
below, opting to walk the rest of the way to the med lab to avoid unpleasant
shorting effects. One time and Beast
hasn’t let me forget it…I helped fix it, for crying out loud… She drew up short at the door, presented
with a frowning doctor. “Is he giving
you trouble, Beast? Can he come to
breakfast with me?”

“I thought
he was with you,” he replied, a tad chagrined.
“But Scott was just down here looking for him and it seems that no one abovestairs
has seen him since yesterday. Well, no
one but you and Jean…”

Kitty
smiled faintly. “You’re kidding,
right?”

“I’m afraid
not…” Beast’s frown deepened. “I’m almost ashamed to say that I was…er…distracted
around six this morning and he must have slipped out then, after the sedative
had worn off.”

“Distracted?”
Kitty asked faintly. “Well, he can’t
have gone far… He’s probably in his room.”

Beast tried
to smile. “Go check. I’ll see you
upstairs.” He bit his tongue on his
theory, that Kurt was having a little mental vacation right then.

Kitty fixed
a bright smile on her face and trotted from the room to search for Kurt,
tossing back over her shoulder, “He wouldn’t have run off, anyway!”

“Let’s
hope,” Beast muttered.

 

The strange
dress of these people confounded him.
Women wearing men’s clothing?
Men without swords or even a simple dagger? And such a small keep! It must be the home of a very minor lord,
Kurt decided. Very minor. Stealthily, he crept towards the great hall
where the young people seemed to be gathering.
So many, Kurt thought to himself. This lord must be quite prolific with his women or very
inspirational to cause the devotion of so many, so young! He sought and found cover behind one of
the open doors and observed these strange people, talking and eating and
generally existing without knowledge of his presence. A rather green looking youth smiled toothily at the girl across
from him, at the nearest table. “Hey,
babe, watch your hand,” he called and snapped out his tongue to snag a roll
from the basket next to her.

“What
strange beast is this?” Kurt breathed. “Surely
I am in the keep of a great wizard!”
The smell of the food was so tempting, though, his stomach begging for
some relief and his hands shaking from hunger, that he was willing to change
the idea of an enchanted apple or a cursed piece of bacon in order to sate his
metabolism. Clearing his throat softly,
he drew himself up to his full height and stepped boldly into the room, pausing
for the awed hush that did not come. Well. Mayhap I am invisible to them! With the air of a cavalier, he strolled to a
table populated by several youths approximately his age, perhaps a bit older,
and sat down. Wordlessly, he took a
piece of toast and several pieces of sausage from the place nearest him and
began stuffing them in his mouth.

“Hey! That was my breakfast!” St John slapped Kurt’s hand when he reached
for the remaining piece of toast. “That
was rude!”

“Hold,
knave!” Kurt cried, leaping to his feet.


“Who been
lettin’ him watch dem Errol Flynn movies ‘gain?” Remy sighed, shoving the plate
of sausages down the table to St John. “Siddown, ami, an’ have some food.”

Kurt
lowered himself hesitantly to the chair again and frowned. “Your accent is strange. I’ve never heard one like it before.”

Remy’s brow
crept up. “Yours ain’t so common here,
either, homme.”

“You are of
the Francs?”

“De
LeBeaus,” Remy said dryly. “Ain’t been
o’ de Francs fo’ nigh on a few hunnert years.”

Kurt
processed this as he chewed. His eyes
skewed sideways to rest on St John. “I
apologize for taking your breakfast. I
thought I was invisible.”

St John
sighed. “Look, Kurt, I said I was sorry
for forgetting the other night. But me and Bobby had a fight and to be honest,
I wasn’t really in the mood to go to town, even for the Evil Dead[1]
triple feature.”

“The…excuse
me?”

St John
rolled his eyes. “I don’t have time for
a guilt trip. I have a botany project
for Storm due on Monday. I have to get
to the greenhouse before Amara torches it.”

Kurt
watched the blond youth go. “He’s a bit…”

“Touchy?”
Remy suggested.

Jamie
smirked, scooting over to occupy the spot vacated by St John. “I heard Jean telling Scott that Logan’s
planning some sort of survival training in the woods next week. The whole nine yards—nothing but what we can
fit in our pockets, no powers allowed, no tents, no nothing. Three days in the woods.”

“Why he do
somethin’ like dat?” Remy mused, sopping up the last of the syrup on his plate
with a biscuit. “It colder den a witch’s
tit out dere.”

Kurt cocked
his head to one side, listening.
Somehow, this all sounded very familiar to him, but he could not place
why he would think that. This wizard
must be powerful indeed, to play with my mind so… “I was wondering if one of you could perhaps help me…I am in
search of a quest.”

Jamie and
Remy stared at Kurt for a moment, then each other. Remy finally chuckled and shook his head. “Homme, you get weirder by de day… I gotta go find Jubilation ‘fore she hide
from me ‘gain. See y’all in de Danger
Room.”

Jamie
snorted softly as he took a sip of his juice.
“A quest, huh?”

Kurt
narrowed his eyes and regarded Jamie carefully. “You look to be of a kind heart and generally good
disposition. Can you lift a sword?”

“Is that a
come-on?”

“I need to
know. Can you fight?”

“Yeah…we
all can. Well, I’m not too sure about that
Skin kid, but yeah…”

“Good. You will be my companion.”
“Whoa…does Kitty know about this?”

“Come, we
have much to discuss!” Kurt pushed away
from the table noisily and motioned for Jamie to join him.

“I ain’t
cleaning up after you. Get your own
plate,” the younger boy said, mildly amused.
What the Hell…I have no where to be until eleven. Screw studying. Maybe Kurt’s up to some prank or something…this might be fun.

Kurt
obediently picked up his plate and followed Jamie, who he now considered his
native guide, towards the kitchen.
Kitty was just entering by way to the rec room and she sighed audibly in
relief. “There you are!”

Kurt’s mind
reeled. He knew her…he knew that
he knew her in every sense of the word.
He could only stare at her as she smiled at him, visibly relieved to see
him. “Dulcinea,” he breathed after a
moment.

“Huh?”

Kurt pushed
past Jamie and dropped to one knee before Kitty, taking her hand fervently in
his. “My fair Dulcinea[2],
I will do whatever it takes to win your love and honor!”

“Dude,”
Jamie said, laughing, “enough’s enough!”

“Dulcinea…”
Kurt looked up at her hopefully.

Kitty felt
her eyes go very wide. “Kurt, get up!”

“My fair
Dulcinea,” Kurt began, but Kitty pulled him up forcibly. “Have I offended you?”

“Kurt, you’re
scaring me!”

Jamie’s
laugh had faded into an expression of concern.
“Hey, Kurt, let’s go see Beast…”

“Beast!” he
cried. “Yes! I will slay it! That will
surely prove me worthy of your honor!”[3] He spun around so fast his tail knocked a
rack of coffee cups over. “Come, Sancho[4]! We must away!”

“We must what?”

“Go! We
must go!” Kurt grabbed Jamie by the arm
and pulled him towards the mudroom door.


Kitty
called out, “Keep him from doing anything stupid! I’ll go get Logan and Beast!”

“Erk!”



 

 



[1] I admit
it. I love those movies. Sam Raimi is a B movie genius. And Bruce Campbell ain’t badthe the eyes,
either.

[2] Playing with
the Don Quixote story here.
Dulcinea was the village washwoman in La Mancha but Don Quixote, in his
little world, thought her to be a fine lady who he must go on quests to win the
honor of courting. If you ever get the
urge, the movie version with John Lithgow is worth a gander.

[3] Yeah, really
fast and loose with the Don Quixote story here.

[4] Sancho Panza
was Don Quixote’s sidekick., really a peasant from La Mancha. Interestingly, sancho is Mexican slang for a
guy who is sleeping with someone else’s woman.
Sancha is the female form of the slang.
*shrug * Live and learn.