Tempest in a Teapot
folder
X-Men - Animated Series (all) › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
16
Views:
2,758
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
X-Men - Animated Series (all) › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
16
Views:
2,758
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.
9
Tempest in a Teapot Chapter Nine
Disclaimers Apply
A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… *random autumnal glomp * InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink, Dracena and Greywolf are loverly and wondermous for archiving/hosting. J ProPhile: *insert witticism here * Morgan: *waves* Howdy! Readers/Reviewers: Seriously, it’s just raging out of control… ;)
“You do realize that she’s naked, don’t you?”
“It has been brought to my attention, yes.”
“And the girls are currently bound and gagged?”
“Noticed that one, too.”
“And Mark found the fireplace tools?”
“Why, indeed he has…” Professor Xavier was torn between amusement and annoyance as Mark galloped around the bound trio of girls, a fireplace poker tucked under his arm, coconut halves held in his hands. Amara, Rogue and Jubilee looked alternately resigned and angry at their treatment, bound as they were to the oak tree nearest the back patio. “I hesitate to do anything…non-physical… for fear of harming him in his delusional state.”
Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes as Storm hung by her knees from a branch over the girls’ heads, her hands stained green from the leaves she had been weaving into crowns as Mark tied the girls up in preparation for, as he called it, the trials. “Chuck, if someone doesn’t do something soon, I’m gonna do more than ruin his delusions.”
Kurt interrupted the murmured conversation with an ear-splitting whoop, leaping from the branch nearest Storm and falling, spread-eagled towards Mark. The knight errant uttered a cry of surprised disbelief and dropped his coconut shells, brandishing his ersatz sword as Kurt, in an entirely un-heron-like maneuver, curled into a ball mid-air and vanished. Mark swung about, his fireplace poker-cum-sword swiping at the air. Kurt re-appeared, looking startled as he finished his fall towards the ground, landing face-down. “Spawn of Hell,” Mark shouted, pinning Kurt to the ground with the tip of the poker, “I shall send you to the fires from whence ye came!”
“Right,” Professor Xavier sighed. “I think it’s time to disabuse him of his delusions after all.”
Amara frowned, working her tongue against the gag in her mouth. “This,” she said, slightly muffled, “is beyond ridiculous.” She grimaced as she tasted the fuzzy fabric of the (thankfully clean) sweat sock that had been requisitioned as a gag. Shooting a glare at the staring Lance, she managed to work her mouth free of the gag, mostly. “Rogue, if I manage to get your hands free… drain him for me, would you?”
Rogue grunted in response, tensing as Mark’s ‘sword’ swung wide in his efforts to subdue Kurt. She did not know who she was more angry at—Mark, who really could not control himself, or the audience standing on the back patio. Storm giggled overhead, making Rogue change her mind. I’ll get her first… then the Brit.
“Mark,” Professor Xavier said calmly, rolling to the edge of the patio, the wheels of his chair stopping just short of the grass. “Mark, listen to me please. You need to let the girls go and come back into her, um, castle with me.”
Mark froze, then turned slowly to face the Professor and Logan. An odd look crossed his face before he rushed forward, dropping to one knee before the Professor, just out of arm’s reach. “Sire,” he panted, the exertion of his one-sided sword fight starting to show. “I am yours to command!” He bent his head, offering fealty to his employer.
“Right then. I request and require you to free the girls and return to my…throne room.” Professor Xavier flushed a dull red color high on his cheekbones as he spoke, Logan’s disbelieving snort beside him doing nothing to help matters.
Mark rose slowly, shooting a glare at Storm’s silvery giggle from the branches of the tree. “Sire, your kingdom is beset by witchery! The sidhe have built mounds and…” he paused, his face becoming a mask of determination. In a stage whisper, he added “I fear that the women of the village are bewitched!”
Logan had enough. His patience officially snapped. “I’ve had enough,” he announced, reaching for Mark with every intent of grabbing his ‘sword arm’ and taking the weapon. “You’re getting tied down and knocked out whether you like it or not.”
Mark went absolutely still for just a fraction of a second, long enough for Jubilee’s muffled “Uh oh” to be heard by all assembled. With a speed that surprised even Logan, Mark twisted away from his would-be captor’s grasp and brought his weapon down with a bone-jarring crash across his adversary’s skull. Logan staggered for just a moment, oblivious to Kurt rising to his feet, arms extended as if ready to pounce. “Fuck this,” Logan muttered, his claws unsheathing.
“Logan! No!” Lance foolishly moved towards the beclawed man, stopping just short of an accidental gutting himself. Mark dodged and parried Logan’s swinging claws, executing a series of moves so complicated that even Kurt, in his heron mindset, stared openly. “Looks like Mark’s got this one under control,” Lance muttered, jogging back. He glanced at Amara, then blushed furiously. “Um, guess you want to be untied?”
Amara did not respond. She narrowed her eyes, her arms glowing brightly even in the afternoon sunlight, as the robes binding her began to sizzle. “HEY!” Rogue yelped through her gag, choking on fuzz. The hot, synthetic rope was melting, tiny flecks of liquid polyesther sticking to her skin.
“Oh, quit your bitching,” Amara snapped, throwing her gag aside as the ropes fell away. “You’re free, aren’t you?”
Rogue opened her mouth to snap back but found herself falling forward, her vision narrowing to dark tunnels. “Ow…”
Mark crowed triumphantly. “The witch has fallen!” he shouted, turning back towards Logan and brandishing his fireplace poker. “What are you now, without the enchantress to strengthen your devilish spells?”
“I’m pretty damned pissed off,” Logan retorted, springing forward and taking Mark down to the ground.
Professor Xavier closed his eyes, pressing his fingers over his lids. “I have three PhDs, you know,” he muttered to no one in particular. “Three of them. I’m independently wealthy. I have hobbies, I have friends… Where did I go wrong?”
a/n Kitty and Todd and a bit of Jung are next…
Disclaimers Apply
A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… *random autumnal glomp * InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink, Dracena and Greywolf are loverly and wondermous for archiving/hosting. J ProPhile: *insert witticism here * Morgan: *waves* Howdy! Readers/Reviewers: Seriously, it’s just raging out of control… ;)
“You do realize that she’s naked, don’t you?”
“It has been brought to my attention, yes.”
“And the girls are currently bound and gagged?”
“Noticed that one, too.”
“And Mark found the fireplace tools?”
“Why, indeed he has…” Professor Xavier was torn between amusement and annoyance as Mark galloped around the bound trio of girls, a fireplace poker tucked under his arm, coconut halves held in his hands. Amara, Rogue and Jubilee looked alternately resigned and angry at their treatment, bound as they were to the oak tree nearest the back patio. “I hesitate to do anything…non-physical… for fear of harming him in his delusional state.”
Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes as Storm hung by her knees from a branch over the girls’ heads, her hands stained green from the leaves she had been weaving into crowns as Mark tied the girls up in preparation for, as he called it, the trials. “Chuck, if someone doesn’t do something soon, I’m gonna do more than ruin his delusions.”
Kurt interrupted the murmured conversation with an ear-splitting whoop, leaping from the branch nearest Storm and falling, spread-eagled towards Mark. The knight errant uttered a cry of surprised disbelief and dropped his coconut shells, brandishing his ersatz sword as Kurt, in an entirely un-heron-like maneuver, curled into a ball mid-air and vanished. Mark swung about, his fireplace poker-cum-sword swiping at the air. Kurt re-appeared, looking startled as he finished his fall towards the ground, landing face-down. “Spawn of Hell,” Mark shouted, pinning Kurt to the ground with the tip of the poker, “I shall send you to the fires from whence ye came!”
“Right,” Professor Xavier sighed. “I think it’s time to disabuse him of his delusions after all.”
Amara frowned, working her tongue against the gag in her mouth. “This,” she said, slightly muffled, “is beyond ridiculous.” She grimaced as she tasted the fuzzy fabric of the (thankfully clean) sweat sock that had been requisitioned as a gag. Shooting a glare at the staring Lance, she managed to work her mouth free of the gag, mostly. “Rogue, if I manage to get your hands free… drain him for me, would you?”
Rogue grunted in response, tensing as Mark’s ‘sword’ swung wide in his efforts to subdue Kurt. She did not know who she was more angry at—Mark, who really could not control himself, or the audience standing on the back patio. Storm giggled overhead, making Rogue change her mind. I’ll get her first… then the Brit.
“Mark,” Professor Xavier said calmly, rolling to the edge of the patio, the wheels of his chair stopping just short of the grass. “Mark, listen to me please. You need to let the girls go and come back into her, um, castle with me.”
Mark froze, then turned slowly to face the Professor and Logan. An odd look crossed his face before he rushed forward, dropping to one knee before the Professor, just out of arm’s reach. “Sire,” he panted, the exertion of his one-sided sword fight starting to show. “I am yours to command!” He bent his head, offering fealty to his employer.
“Right then. I request and require you to free the girls and return to my…throne room.” Professor Xavier flushed a dull red color high on his cheekbones as he spoke, Logan’s disbelieving snort beside him doing nothing to help matters.
Mark rose slowly, shooting a glare at Storm’s silvery giggle from the branches of the tree. “Sire, your kingdom is beset by witchery! The sidhe have built mounds and…” he paused, his face becoming a mask of determination. In a stage whisper, he added “I fear that the women of the village are bewitched!”
Logan had enough. His patience officially snapped. “I’ve had enough,” he announced, reaching for Mark with every intent of grabbing his ‘sword arm’ and taking the weapon. “You’re getting tied down and knocked out whether you like it or not.”
Mark went absolutely still for just a fraction of a second, long enough for Jubilee’s muffled “Uh oh” to be heard by all assembled. With a speed that surprised even Logan, Mark twisted away from his would-be captor’s grasp and brought his weapon down with a bone-jarring crash across his adversary’s skull. Logan staggered for just a moment, oblivious to Kurt rising to his feet, arms extended as if ready to pounce. “Fuck this,” Logan muttered, his claws unsheathing.
“Logan! No!” Lance foolishly moved towards the beclawed man, stopping just short of an accidental gutting himself. Mark dodged and parried Logan’s swinging claws, executing a series of moves so complicated that even Kurt, in his heron mindset, stared openly. “Looks like Mark’s got this one under control,” Lance muttered, jogging back. He glanced at Amara, then blushed furiously. “Um, guess you want to be untied?”
Amara did not respond. She narrowed her eyes, her arms glowing brightly even in the afternoon sunlight, as the robes binding her began to sizzle. “HEY!” Rogue yelped through her gag, choking on fuzz. The hot, synthetic rope was melting, tiny flecks of liquid polyesther sticking to her skin.
“Oh, quit your bitching,” Amara snapped, throwing her gag aside as the ropes fell away. “You’re free, aren’t you?”
Rogue opened her mouth to snap back but found herself falling forward, her vision narrowing to dark tunnels. “Ow…”
Mark crowed triumphantly. “The witch has fallen!” he shouted, turning back towards Logan and brandishing his fireplace poker. “What are you now, without the enchantress to strengthen your devilish spells?”
“I’m pretty damned pissed off,” Logan retorted, springing forward and taking Mark down to the ground.
Professor Xavier closed his eyes, pressing his fingers over his lids. “I have three PhDs, you know,” he muttered to no one in particular. “Three of them. I’m independently wealthy. I have hobbies, I have friends… Where did I go wrong?”
a/n Kitty and Todd and a bit of Jung are next…