Tempest in a Teapot
folder
X-Men - Animated Series (all) › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
16
Views:
2,753
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
X-Men - Animated Series (all) › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
16
Views:
2,753
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
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.
4
Tempest in a Teapot Chapter Four
Disclaimers Apply
A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… Does it seem like the days are going by too fast or is it just me? InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink, Dracena and Greywolf are loverly and wondermous for archiving/hosting. J ProPhile: Finally, you can sleep for sixteen hours… Morgan: *pokes with pokey stick* Hey there. Readers/Reviewers: Just a few more chapters then it’s back to your regularly scheduled story arc. ;)
Kitty reached for the phone groggily. Her aunts had made the house so cold that, even in August, she had to burrow under several quilts and a duvet. She was warm, she thought as she slapped the nightstand searching for the ringing phone. She did not want to get up and face the icebox that was the aunts home. “What?” she mumbled into the receiver, having finally found the old Bakelite phone barely within fingertip reach.
“Kit? It’s Rogue…”
Kitty blinked awake, peering at the red numbers of the old digital clock near the phone. “Everything okay? It’s seven a.m. No one is dead, are they?” She sat up, carefully keeping the thick layers of warmth over her chest and shoulders. “Do you need me to come home?”
“Um…”
“What’s that whooping noise?” Kitty frowned. “Rogue, are you drunk?”
“It’s like this… Storm thinks she’s a faerie, Kurt thinks he’s a damned whooping crane and Todd…” she sighed heavily. “Todd is experimenting in new forms of irony and thinks he’s a faerie tale princess.”
Kitty fell silent, trying to puzzle together the mental picture into a form more understandable. “Rogue, are you drunk?” she repeated finally. “Because if you are, I have to tell you…switch to the good stuff. Whatever you’re drinking is obviously laced with something!” She settled back against the headboard, aware of the sound of one of her aunts walking the upstairs hall, likely on her way to get more coffee in the kitchen. “Seriously, Rogue, what’s wrong?”
“Kitty,” the Southern girl said with a world of seriousness in her voice. “I’m not fucking with you. Storm and Kurt got…well, they got sick yesterday after drinking some tea that she made to try out some new teapot she got as a gift. And last night, Boy Blunder drank some of the left over tea that Beast had left in the kitchen after removing the sample for testing.” Heaving a sigh, Rogue added, “You always leave before the fun stuff, Kit.”
Kitty blinked a few times, the image of Todd in a pink, fluffy dress with one of those little kid Halloween costume princess hats springing to mind. “I’ll be home this afternoon. Aunt Hannah will give me a ride to the airport… I’m glad the dorms weren’t ready this week.” She paused, adding, “Rogue, don’t tell Kurt I’m coming, okay?”
“Sweetie, I don’t think he’d notice unless you showed up dressed like a herring.”
Mark reached for the box of tea he kept hidden behind Storm’s secret stash. He was tired, bleary eyed from lack of sleep, and wanted nothing more than a nice, quiet day with numerous cups of tea and a good book or ten. Bugger all… who keeps moving my tea? The small wooden box of loose tea he had gone to great trouble to find was missing, leaving in it’s place a clean square in the slightly dusty cabinet, littered with tiny tea leaves. “Damn,” he muttered, rocking back on his heels. “Well, needs musts wants.” He picked up a small paper bag of tea, the essential oils of the leaves staining the dark brown bag even more darkly. He opened the top of the bag and sniffed; a pungent, almost peppery smell assaulted his senses, making his eyes water. A softer, floral undercurrent teased beneath the pungent aroma, soothing and enticing in it’s simplicity. “It’ll do,” he murmured.
“What on earth…” Jubilee rocked back in her chair, the library floorboards creaking beneath her. A galloping, clattering sound was moving closer, like someone wearing wooden clogs and trying to run at the same time. She frowned at St John and nearly fell backwards trying to see around the doorframe. “Oh, holy hell…”
Mark, wearing something that looked like tinfoil on his head, was galloping full tilt down the long hallway, a broomstick tucked under his arm, head lowered. “HALT!” he shouted. “HALT,VARLET!”
“Oh dear God,” St John breathed. “Jubes, stop him!”
Jubilee was on her feet and rushing towards the library door when Mark met with resistance. “Erk. Sir Mark was just bested by the door,” she said, wincing.
Mark, flat on his back, stared unblinkingly up into Jubilee’s eyes as she knelt beside him. “LEAS CYNNING! He shouted suddenly, lurching to his feet and oversetting Jubilee. He jabbed the tip of his broom stick at her. “Leas cynning!”
“Saint John,” she said calmly, already tired of the whole mess. “I need you to do one of two things. Either go get me a sword from a stone or go get Beast.” Wincing as Mark jabbed the broomstick at her, she added, “Posthaste.”
Disclaimers Apply
A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… Does it seem like the days are going by too fast or is it just me? InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink, Dracena and Greywolf are loverly and wondermous for archiving/hosting. J ProPhile: Finally, you can sleep for sixteen hours… Morgan: *pokes with pokey stick* Hey there. Readers/Reviewers: Just a few more chapters then it’s back to your regularly scheduled story arc. ;)
Kitty reached for the phone groggily. Her aunts had made the house so cold that, even in August, she had to burrow under several quilts and a duvet. She was warm, she thought as she slapped the nightstand searching for the ringing phone. She did not want to get up and face the icebox that was the aunts home. “What?” she mumbled into the receiver, having finally found the old Bakelite phone barely within fingertip reach.
“Kit? It’s Rogue…”
Kitty blinked awake, peering at the red numbers of the old digital clock near the phone. “Everything okay? It’s seven a.m. No one is dead, are they?” She sat up, carefully keeping the thick layers of warmth over her chest and shoulders. “Do you need me to come home?”
“Um…”
“What’s that whooping noise?” Kitty frowned. “Rogue, are you drunk?”
“It’s like this… Storm thinks she’s a faerie, Kurt thinks he’s a damned whooping crane and Todd…” she sighed heavily. “Todd is experimenting in new forms of irony and thinks he’s a faerie tale princess.”
Kitty fell silent, trying to puzzle together the mental picture into a form more understandable. “Rogue, are you drunk?” she repeated finally. “Because if you are, I have to tell you…switch to the good stuff. Whatever you’re drinking is obviously laced with something!” She settled back against the headboard, aware of the sound of one of her aunts walking the upstairs hall, likely on her way to get more coffee in the kitchen. “Seriously, Rogue, what’s wrong?”
“Kitty,” the Southern girl said with a world of seriousness in her voice. “I’m not fucking with you. Storm and Kurt got…well, they got sick yesterday after drinking some tea that she made to try out some new teapot she got as a gift. And last night, Boy Blunder drank some of the left over tea that Beast had left in the kitchen after removing the sample for testing.” Heaving a sigh, Rogue added, “You always leave before the fun stuff, Kit.”
Kitty blinked a few times, the image of Todd in a pink, fluffy dress with one of those little kid Halloween costume princess hats springing to mind. “I’ll be home this afternoon. Aunt Hannah will give me a ride to the airport… I’m glad the dorms weren’t ready this week.” She paused, adding, “Rogue, don’t tell Kurt I’m coming, okay?”
“Sweetie, I don’t think he’d notice unless you showed up dressed like a herring.”
Mark reached for the box of tea he kept hidden behind Storm’s secret stash. He was tired, bleary eyed from lack of sleep, and wanted nothing more than a nice, quiet day with numerous cups of tea and a good book or ten. Bugger all… who keeps moving my tea? The small wooden box of loose tea he had gone to great trouble to find was missing, leaving in it’s place a clean square in the slightly dusty cabinet, littered with tiny tea leaves. “Damn,” he muttered, rocking back on his heels. “Well, needs musts wants.” He picked up a small paper bag of tea, the essential oils of the leaves staining the dark brown bag even more darkly. He opened the top of the bag and sniffed; a pungent, almost peppery smell assaulted his senses, making his eyes water. A softer, floral undercurrent teased beneath the pungent aroma, soothing and enticing in it’s simplicity. “It’ll do,” he murmured.
“What on earth…” Jubilee rocked back in her chair, the library floorboards creaking beneath her. A galloping, clattering sound was moving closer, like someone wearing wooden clogs and trying to run at the same time. She frowned at St John and nearly fell backwards trying to see around the doorframe. “Oh, holy hell…”
Mark, wearing something that looked like tinfoil on his head, was galloping full tilt down the long hallway, a broomstick tucked under his arm, head lowered. “HALT!” he shouted. “HALT,VARLET!”
“Oh dear God,” St John breathed. “Jubes, stop him!”
Jubilee was on her feet and rushing towards the library door when Mark met with resistance. “Erk. Sir Mark was just bested by the door,” she said, wincing.
Mark, flat on his back, stared unblinkingly up into Jubilee’s eyes as she knelt beside him. “LEAS CYNNING! He shouted suddenly, lurching to his feet and oversetting Jubilee. He jabbed the tip of his broom stick at her. “Leas cynning!”
“Saint John,” she said calmly, already tired of the whole mess. “I need you to do one of two things. Either go get me a sword from a stone or go get Beast.” Wincing as Mark jabbed the broomstick at her, she added, “Posthaste.”