Greetings and salutations to all! If you were unfortunate enough to
accidently stumble upon this story, I appologize. Feel free to read it if
you like. If you came here on purpose, WHAT THE FUDGE WERE YOU THINKING?!
AAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!! *bangs her head against a wall*
We (meaning me) are warning you that this story is the result of non- sleepingness for over 36 hours from the mind of a rabid JONDA (St.John/Wanda) shipper. There will be other pairings, but JONDA will be central (we also like ROMY and KIOTR). We don't like AMYRO. It makes us cry. We do, however think that Amara would be quite happy with Ray Crisp (Berzerker) because he's a li'l punk and she's a princess, and they're closer in AGE!
Be prepared for mild Scott and Jean bashing in the future. We don't hates them. We only think they gets in the way sometimes. Well... no... We does hates them, but not enough to kills them. *is wondering why she's talking like Gollum*
DISCLAIMER: We doesn't own X-Men Evolution, but we is the proud owner of a Gambit action-figure! LUVIES TO TAINEYAH!!! Read her stories! She's rockabilly-awesome!
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"Ow, my head..." sitting up slowly, the young woman pressed her hand against her temple in attempt to relieve the pain.
"Lay back down, miss Doe, you don't want your stitches to rip." a portly woman dressed in white demanded in an annoyed tone of voice.
"Doe?" That name didn't sound right. "My name isn't Doe-"
"It is until someone shows up who can tell us who you really are. Until then, you are Jane Doe, charge of the state of New York." the nurse stomped out of the room grumbling about irresponsible teens.
She was chasing after someone. He led her to an abandoned building. It was dark, and the stars were not to be seen in the sky. She glared at him. It would finally end that night. She'd kill him.
"It's time to stop running! FACE ME!" she demanded in a slightly braver voice than expected.
He only laughed at her. "Then what will you do, once you've killed me?" he took a step closer, coming out of the shadows. His body towered over hers; his face was covered in darkness. "Destroying me will only fulfill you temporarily. Once I'm dead, you would've lost all purpose."
She sneered. "What I do after killing you is of little consequence. Now quit stalling!" she lunged forward.
The large figure's hand shot out like the claw of a feral cat. She didn't have time to react as the iron beam above her came loose and fell-
"Wake up, Miss. Doe. Eric Lehnsherr, your father, is here." a kindly voice, along with a jolt to her shoulder caused the patient's cloudy-blue eyes to shoot open.
"Father?" she turned her head to the side to see an aged man standing in the doorway. "Who..."
The nurse turned to him as well. "Amnesia. The best thing for her is to take her home and slowly introduce everything back into her life. Best case scenario, her memory will return in time. You need to be gentle with her."
"I understand, Ms." he smiled to the nurse. "If you could please leave me with my daughter."
The charmed medical worker nodded and left the room without argument.
The man with neatly combed white hair approached the bed and sat down next to her feet. "Your things are ready. It's time to come home."
She scowled at the uneasy feeling in her gut. "Who are you?"
"I'm your father. If you don't believe me, then ask the doctors. They made me do a DNA test before allowing me to see you."
She was silent, not knowing what to believe. She had a strong feeling, however, that this man was telling the truth. "All right..."
~*~
"Your name is Wanda Lehnsherr. You're 17 years old, and you've been living in Bayville all of your life. I've home-schooled you and your brother-"
"I have a brother?"
"-yes, a twin. Now, don't interrupt me again. That's not in your character. I've decided that it's time you interact with your peers, so I've enrolled you in the local high school-"
"My head hurts..."
He stared straight ahead, a concerned scowl set on his face. "I'm sorry to rush all of this on you, but you see, I was so worried about you, Wanda. We thought we had lost you forever!" Eric turned right at the stop- sign.
"It's all right, Mr. Lehnsherr-"
"Call me father, or... dad... if you wish."
"Father. I feel really dumb asking this, but, what's my brother's name?"
"Pietro Maximof-Lehnsherr."
Wanda was puzzled. "Maximoff?"
"It's his middle-name." Eric replied quickly, pulling his red and purple convertible in front of a three-story Victorian-style house.
"Is this our house?!" she gasped in awe. "There's only three of us. Why would we need this much room?"
Eric just smiled and helped her out of the passenger door. The two of them walked inside the house. Wanda took in her surroundings. The house reeked of masculinity, filled with antiques and cacti. At least the front foyer could be described that way. The Living Room was another story. The furniture scheme was a hodge-podge assortment of random chairs that didn't match, end tables with scorch-marks, and the ugliest lime-green couch she was pretty sure she had never seen before in her life.
Wanda turned to her father, "erm... Did you decorate yourself?"
"Why yes. I did. We wanted to surprise you."
"It's..." she had trouble finding a word for it, "nice? Yeah... I'm feeling kinda tired, father."
"Of course. I'll take you up to your room now."
He led the off-balanced teen up a flight of stairs to a room with the sign 'W.M.L' engraved on the mahogany door. "The washroom is to the left. Sweet dreams, Wanda." Eric squeezed her shoulder gently and headed back down the stairs.
"G'night... Dad."
Wanda didn't bother to take any notice to her bedroom walls, covered in flowery wall-paper and Unicorn-posters. She just stripped off her jacket, pulled back her blankets, slid into the queen-sized bed and went to sleep.
~*~
The morning sun shone through the large Kitchen window. Magneto had called his Acolytes together for a briefing before they continued with their daily business. Piotr Rasputin was awake and coherent, just finishing up his eggs and toast. He had awoken early that morning, as was his habit having been raised on a farm, for his work-out and hot shower. Across from him sat Remy LeBeau.
Remy was a year older than Piotr, although he was dwarfed in comparison. Remy was not a morning person at all. He preferred prowling the streets an night, then sleeping until noon, as was his habit having been raised as a thief. He hadn't even changed out of his pajamas yet, and was resting his head on his hand, playing with his cereal.
The oldest of the Acolytes had been ordered to stay at the hideout. Viktor Creed and Jason Wyngarde were more than likely suffering from large hangovers, but that was irrelevant because they were 50 miles away.
Magneto was heading toward the Kitchen, preparing to fill his team in on the new developments of his plans.
This left one member unaccounted for; which, given his track-record, wasn't a big surprise. The Junior Acolyte, St. John Allerdyce had been conducting business with an overseas company. He had more than likely stayed out all night to get his shipment, which meant that he wouldn't be back at the house until much later that morning.
Magneto met with his two present team-members. "All right. The briefing shall commence."
Remy sat up and cleared his throat. "Excuse-moi, Magneto. I don' mean ya no disrespect, but, dere be some'un missin' here."
"Your point, Gambit?"
"Me'be we should be waiting 'til dis afternoon fo' de meetin' non? So dat Pyro don' be flippin' out from any surprises."
Piotr only shook his head.
"His folly will be his own punishment." Magneto growled, mostly to himself, but the other two men heard it too. He regained his stoic composure, and stared both Remy and Piotr in the eyes. "Two weeks ago, as you know, one of my... offspring followed me, with the sole intention to end my life. This on it's own was a surprise considering that I hired you to be my PROTECTION!
"I was forced to use my powers against her-
Remy shifted in his seat, apparently listening more closely.
"- and she was badly injured. It turned out that she had been struck in the head, and is suffering from amnesia. I brought her here yesterday-
"WOAH! So, you mean dere be une fille in de house?"
Piotr scowled at Remy, "you are not able to see whole situation, comrade," he scolded in his heavy Russian accent, "she is reason we are being living here. I believe it is Magneto's intentions to see she is no longer being threat to him." his grim stare turned from the giddy Cajun, to their leader.
"That is true. I want her to believe that she had a different life. As long as she's concerned, the three of you, including Mr. Allerdyce, are students whom are boarding here." With that, Magneto left, signifying the end of the breakfast-table conference.
"Well, mon ami, I'm gonna go get changed, den blow. You need a ride or any'tin?" Remy tossed his dishes in the sink, then turned to receive Piotr's answer. The tall, dark Russian stood as well.
"I wish to be making visit to Art Supply store."
They left soon afterwards.
~*~
St. John grunted, with his keys in his mouth, heaving a large crate up the steps of the house. He tried turning the knob, finding it locked. He knocked, but received no answer. It was still early, normally there'd be somebody home to open the door. He set the crate down gently on the step and slid his key into the lock. After struggling with the mechanism, and a few choice adjectives, St. John finally forced it open.
He kicked the crate through the doorway, into the front hall. The house, aside from the fan, was completely silent. " 'Allo?!" he called.
John shoved his crate into the kitchen. "Remy?! PETEY?!" he glanced in the sink, seeing their dirty breakfast dishes. "Well, I guess they rushed outta here..." a mischievous glint flashed in his cerulean eyes. "OI! MAGGIE! I JUST MELT'D ALL YA'BOOTS TOGETHA'!!"
He waited for his leader to come storming into the room, ready to thrash him.
He waited...
... and waited...
Nothing happened.
"Empty house, fresh supplies. Time to have ourselves a party!"
~*~
Wanda groaned and rolled over. Her mind was telling her to get up, but her body was reluctant. It had been a pleasant sleep too. Her bed was warm, her pillows were soft. What on Earth could be better than that? What was the point of getting up?
On the other hand, if she didn't get up, she may never know.
She groggily lifted her head and looked to her widow. The sun was peeking through her mauve blinds. Wanda tossed her blankets off and swung her legs over the side of her bed. She realized that she was still wearing her clothing from the day before. She staggered over to the wardrobe and searched a few of the drawers. She picked up a pair of cloud-printed pajama bottoms and a long-sleeved tee-shirt. Wanda found a blue bathrobe hanging on her door.
She left her room in search of the shower. She managed to find the bathroom without any trouble. She took off her robe and stepped into the warm spray of her shower head.
She finished in 10 minutes. It didn't take long to wash her short hair. She dried off with her towel and wrapped herself up in her soft terry- cloth robe. The room was filled with steam from her shower. Wanda wiped the moisture from the mirror in front of her, uncovering the face of a very confused girl.
"Is that really me?" she asked herself. She had jet-black hair in a mushroom cut, that was blood red around the back of her neck. Her lips were full and red. What really caught Wanda's attention, however, was her clear, blue eyes. They looked like they held many secrets behind them, and no one, not even herself, could unlock them. They were once wild and passionate, but now dulled by confusion.
She shook out of her trance, ran a comb through her wet hair, and went back to her bedroom, where she changed into the pajamas she had pulled out earlier.
~*~
Wanda went down the stairs, finding herself in the masculine front hall again. She pleaded with her short-term memory to lead her to the kitchen. There were five identical doors, but none of them had any indication of where it led.
The Grandfather clock chimed, indicating that it was 1:00 in the afternoon. The noise that followed, however, was indescribable. It was coming from two doors to her left. She followed it, hoping that it might be her father, or even her elusive twin, Pietro.
When she opened the door, the sight that met her eyes completely threw her off. A tall young man was dancing and twirling about, holding a jar and a slab of bread. His mop of mandarin-blonde hair swished around with the movements of his body. He was completely naked aside from his socks and a pair of orange happy-face boxers with flames coming up the sides. He was singing, along with the stereo, at the top of his lungs.
"Now woman, I said stay away American woman, listen what I say American woman, get away from me American woman, mama let me be Don't come here knocking around my door Don't want to see your shadow no more Colored lights can hypnotize Sparkle someone else's eyes-
"Pietro?"
Her voice startled him, and he dropped the jar he was singing into. It smashed all over the linoleum tiles, and a foul smell filled the room. It was like unfermented beer mixed with rotten carrots. He spun around, and Wanda saw that he had written 'HOT', in bold lettering, across his chest in black magic-marker and flames scribbled on his abs.
His eyes widened at the sight of her. The man was obviously not expecting her to be there. "Wh- I- err..." he snatched an apron off of a hook and covered himself. " 'Allo."
St.John inwardly smiled at the sight before him. The girl didn't look much younger than he was. She was staring at him intently, almost like she had been searching for him all of her life, then finally found him. She was probably another one of Gambit's girlfriends, by the look of her. She looked to be the type the promiscuous Cajun was obsessing over lately: pale, dark hair, constantly scowling. Oddly enough, she was wearing her pajamas.
"Pietro?" Wanda inquired again. If this guy really was her brother, she wondered why he looked so different from her and her father.
St.John laughed. "Sorry, love. I'm afraid he's not 'ere."
She became nervous, but that was overcome by a certain instinct. This man was standing, almost naked, in her house. He wasn't her brother, and he had a foreign accent. Wanda allowed this instinct to take her, and she lunged at him, knocking him to the floor. Her senses were telling her to kill the intruder.
Wanda struggled with him. She punched his chest violently until he managed to grab hold of her flailing arms. She thrashed them in attempt to release herself, but he only tightened his grip.
"Steady-on, love! We've only just met!" he grunted, flipping them over so he was on top.
Wanda breathed deeply, still pulling at her arms. "Let me go!" she commanded, glaring at him murderously. She could feel a small piece of glass cutting into her side.
~*~
Remy and Piotr pulled into the garage. Remy noticed that St.John's JEEP was already there.
"It appears that our little comrade is back from trip." Piotr stated with slight amusement.
Remy chuckled, pocketing his keys. "Y'know what dat mean..."
Piotr nodded. "More Vege-"
Piotr was cut off by a loud crash and a scream. The two of them glanced at each other, then ran inside.
~*~
"No. Ya' might hurt me." St.John adjusted himself so he was straddling her waist.
Wanda squirmed. "Who are you?!"
"I could ask the you same thing!"
Wanda's heart sank. She would've liked the answer herself. She was about to retort when the door burst open and two large men came barreling into the Kitchen.
"St.John! Wha-?!" the shorter of the two gawked at the two on the floor. "Sorry, homme! If we had known you had a date, we would've made other plans!"
"Do you mind, Remy?! I'm a little busy being ATTACKED here!" St.John snapped sarcastically. The struggling girl beneath him took advantage of his distraction, and again gained the upper-hand.
Wanda got him in a full-nelson. She glared challengingly at the other two. Suddenly, the tall one with black hair came to her captor's rescue. He wrapped his massive hands around her waist and pried her off. Wanda continued to kick and scream and thrash her arms about, slapping every square inch of her assailant's chest.
"Gently now, Pete," the man named Remy joked, "don' 'urt de petite femme!"
"That is not funny, comrade." Piotr frowned, avoiding the girl's flailing limbs as best he could.
Wanda growled, glaring at Remy. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a metal spoon charged at the lewd Cajun and thwacked him in the head.
The grip around her waist became slack, and Wanda fell to the floor, landing on her rear. All eyes were on her, gawking in awe.
"What?!" she demanded, feeling quite peturbed.
Apparently, the man in the apron was just as confused as she was. He looked between his two companions with the same expression she had. "What's with you two? I think I missed something..."
"St.John, I think you being apologizing to girl..." Piotr warned.
"Why?! She came in here and attacked ME!"
Remy 'shushed' him. "Non, mon ami... Petey's right. Ya don' wanna get on dis one's bad-side."
"A li'l too late for that, mate!"
"She's Magneto's girl..."
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Thank you for wasting your time on my story! We'd appreciate some feed- back, so clickey on the review button! CLICKEY I SAY!!! PEONS!!!
I like cheese.
May the Glomp Gods smile upon you! And may Pyro always dance in his boxers, because we loves him!
Bai-Bai!
We (meaning me) are warning you that this story is the result of non- sleepingness for over 36 hours from the mind of a rabid JONDA (St.John/Wanda) shipper. There will be other pairings, but JONDA will be central (we also like ROMY and KIOTR). We don't like AMYRO. It makes us cry. We do, however think that Amara would be quite happy with Ray Crisp (Berzerker) because he's a li'l punk and she's a princess, and they're closer in AGE!
Be prepared for mild Scott and Jean bashing in the future. We don't hates them. We only think they gets in the way sometimes. Well... no... We does hates them, but not enough to kills them. *is wondering why she's talking like Gollum*
DISCLAIMER: We doesn't own X-Men Evolution, but we is the proud owner of a Gambit action-figure! LUVIES TO TAINEYAH!!! Read her stories! She's rockabilly-awesome!
#############################################################
"Ow, my head..." sitting up slowly, the young woman pressed her hand against her temple in attempt to relieve the pain.
"Lay back down, miss Doe, you don't want your stitches to rip." a portly woman dressed in white demanded in an annoyed tone of voice.
"Doe?" That name didn't sound right. "My name isn't Doe-"
"It is until someone shows up who can tell us who you really are. Until then, you are Jane Doe, charge of the state of New York." the nurse stomped out of the room grumbling about irresponsible teens.
She was chasing after someone. He led her to an abandoned building. It was dark, and the stars were not to be seen in the sky. She glared at him. It would finally end that night. She'd kill him.
"It's time to stop running! FACE ME!" she demanded in a slightly braver voice than expected.
He only laughed at her. "Then what will you do, once you've killed me?" he took a step closer, coming out of the shadows. His body towered over hers; his face was covered in darkness. "Destroying me will only fulfill you temporarily. Once I'm dead, you would've lost all purpose."
She sneered. "What I do after killing you is of little consequence. Now quit stalling!" she lunged forward.
The large figure's hand shot out like the claw of a feral cat. She didn't have time to react as the iron beam above her came loose and fell-
"Wake up, Miss. Doe. Eric Lehnsherr, your father, is here." a kindly voice, along with a jolt to her shoulder caused the patient's cloudy-blue eyes to shoot open.
"Father?" she turned her head to the side to see an aged man standing in the doorway. "Who..."
The nurse turned to him as well. "Amnesia. The best thing for her is to take her home and slowly introduce everything back into her life. Best case scenario, her memory will return in time. You need to be gentle with her."
"I understand, Ms." he smiled to the nurse. "If you could please leave me with my daughter."
The charmed medical worker nodded and left the room without argument.
The man with neatly combed white hair approached the bed and sat down next to her feet. "Your things are ready. It's time to come home."
She scowled at the uneasy feeling in her gut. "Who are you?"
"I'm your father. If you don't believe me, then ask the doctors. They made me do a DNA test before allowing me to see you."
She was silent, not knowing what to believe. She had a strong feeling, however, that this man was telling the truth. "All right..."
~*~
"Your name is Wanda Lehnsherr. You're 17 years old, and you've been living in Bayville all of your life. I've home-schooled you and your brother-"
"I have a brother?"
"-yes, a twin. Now, don't interrupt me again. That's not in your character. I've decided that it's time you interact with your peers, so I've enrolled you in the local high school-"
"My head hurts..."
He stared straight ahead, a concerned scowl set on his face. "I'm sorry to rush all of this on you, but you see, I was so worried about you, Wanda. We thought we had lost you forever!" Eric turned right at the stop- sign.
"It's all right, Mr. Lehnsherr-"
"Call me father, or... dad... if you wish."
"Father. I feel really dumb asking this, but, what's my brother's name?"
"Pietro Maximof-Lehnsherr."
Wanda was puzzled. "Maximoff?"
"It's his middle-name." Eric replied quickly, pulling his red and purple convertible in front of a three-story Victorian-style house.
"Is this our house?!" she gasped in awe. "There's only three of us. Why would we need this much room?"
Eric just smiled and helped her out of the passenger door. The two of them walked inside the house. Wanda took in her surroundings. The house reeked of masculinity, filled with antiques and cacti. At least the front foyer could be described that way. The Living Room was another story. The furniture scheme was a hodge-podge assortment of random chairs that didn't match, end tables with scorch-marks, and the ugliest lime-green couch she was pretty sure she had never seen before in her life.
Wanda turned to her father, "erm... Did you decorate yourself?"
"Why yes. I did. We wanted to surprise you."
"It's..." she had trouble finding a word for it, "nice? Yeah... I'm feeling kinda tired, father."
"Of course. I'll take you up to your room now."
He led the off-balanced teen up a flight of stairs to a room with the sign 'W.M.L' engraved on the mahogany door. "The washroom is to the left. Sweet dreams, Wanda." Eric squeezed her shoulder gently and headed back down the stairs.
"G'night... Dad."
Wanda didn't bother to take any notice to her bedroom walls, covered in flowery wall-paper and Unicorn-posters. She just stripped off her jacket, pulled back her blankets, slid into the queen-sized bed and went to sleep.
~*~
The morning sun shone through the large Kitchen window. Magneto had called his Acolytes together for a briefing before they continued with their daily business. Piotr Rasputin was awake and coherent, just finishing up his eggs and toast. He had awoken early that morning, as was his habit having been raised on a farm, for his work-out and hot shower. Across from him sat Remy LeBeau.
Remy was a year older than Piotr, although he was dwarfed in comparison. Remy was not a morning person at all. He preferred prowling the streets an night, then sleeping until noon, as was his habit having been raised as a thief. He hadn't even changed out of his pajamas yet, and was resting his head on his hand, playing with his cereal.
The oldest of the Acolytes had been ordered to stay at the hideout. Viktor Creed and Jason Wyngarde were more than likely suffering from large hangovers, but that was irrelevant because they were 50 miles away.
Magneto was heading toward the Kitchen, preparing to fill his team in on the new developments of his plans.
This left one member unaccounted for; which, given his track-record, wasn't a big surprise. The Junior Acolyte, St. John Allerdyce had been conducting business with an overseas company. He had more than likely stayed out all night to get his shipment, which meant that he wouldn't be back at the house until much later that morning.
Magneto met with his two present team-members. "All right. The briefing shall commence."
Remy sat up and cleared his throat. "Excuse-moi, Magneto. I don' mean ya no disrespect, but, dere be some'un missin' here."
"Your point, Gambit?"
"Me'be we should be waiting 'til dis afternoon fo' de meetin' non? So dat Pyro don' be flippin' out from any surprises."
Piotr only shook his head.
"His folly will be his own punishment." Magneto growled, mostly to himself, but the other two men heard it too. He regained his stoic composure, and stared both Remy and Piotr in the eyes. "Two weeks ago, as you know, one of my... offspring followed me, with the sole intention to end my life. This on it's own was a surprise considering that I hired you to be my PROTECTION!
"I was forced to use my powers against her-
Remy shifted in his seat, apparently listening more closely.
"- and she was badly injured. It turned out that she had been struck in the head, and is suffering from amnesia. I brought her here yesterday-
"WOAH! So, you mean dere be une fille in de house?"
Piotr scowled at Remy, "you are not able to see whole situation, comrade," he scolded in his heavy Russian accent, "she is reason we are being living here. I believe it is Magneto's intentions to see she is no longer being threat to him." his grim stare turned from the giddy Cajun, to their leader.
"That is true. I want her to believe that she had a different life. As long as she's concerned, the three of you, including Mr. Allerdyce, are students whom are boarding here." With that, Magneto left, signifying the end of the breakfast-table conference.
"Well, mon ami, I'm gonna go get changed, den blow. You need a ride or any'tin?" Remy tossed his dishes in the sink, then turned to receive Piotr's answer. The tall, dark Russian stood as well.
"I wish to be making visit to Art Supply store."
They left soon afterwards.
~*~
St. John grunted, with his keys in his mouth, heaving a large crate up the steps of the house. He tried turning the knob, finding it locked. He knocked, but received no answer. It was still early, normally there'd be somebody home to open the door. He set the crate down gently on the step and slid his key into the lock. After struggling with the mechanism, and a few choice adjectives, St. John finally forced it open.
He kicked the crate through the doorway, into the front hall. The house, aside from the fan, was completely silent. " 'Allo?!" he called.
John shoved his crate into the kitchen. "Remy?! PETEY?!" he glanced in the sink, seeing their dirty breakfast dishes. "Well, I guess they rushed outta here..." a mischievous glint flashed in his cerulean eyes. "OI! MAGGIE! I JUST MELT'D ALL YA'BOOTS TOGETHA'!!"
He waited for his leader to come storming into the room, ready to thrash him.
He waited...
... and waited...
Nothing happened.
"Empty house, fresh supplies. Time to have ourselves a party!"
~*~
Wanda groaned and rolled over. Her mind was telling her to get up, but her body was reluctant. It had been a pleasant sleep too. Her bed was warm, her pillows were soft. What on Earth could be better than that? What was the point of getting up?
On the other hand, if she didn't get up, she may never know.
She groggily lifted her head and looked to her widow. The sun was peeking through her mauve blinds. Wanda tossed her blankets off and swung her legs over the side of her bed. She realized that she was still wearing her clothing from the day before. She staggered over to the wardrobe and searched a few of the drawers. She picked up a pair of cloud-printed pajama bottoms and a long-sleeved tee-shirt. Wanda found a blue bathrobe hanging on her door.
She left her room in search of the shower. She managed to find the bathroom without any trouble. She took off her robe and stepped into the warm spray of her shower head.
She finished in 10 minutes. It didn't take long to wash her short hair. She dried off with her towel and wrapped herself up in her soft terry- cloth robe. The room was filled with steam from her shower. Wanda wiped the moisture from the mirror in front of her, uncovering the face of a very confused girl.
"Is that really me?" she asked herself. She had jet-black hair in a mushroom cut, that was blood red around the back of her neck. Her lips were full and red. What really caught Wanda's attention, however, was her clear, blue eyes. They looked like they held many secrets behind them, and no one, not even herself, could unlock them. They were once wild and passionate, but now dulled by confusion.
She shook out of her trance, ran a comb through her wet hair, and went back to her bedroom, where she changed into the pajamas she had pulled out earlier.
~*~
Wanda went down the stairs, finding herself in the masculine front hall again. She pleaded with her short-term memory to lead her to the kitchen. There were five identical doors, but none of them had any indication of where it led.
The Grandfather clock chimed, indicating that it was 1:00 in the afternoon. The noise that followed, however, was indescribable. It was coming from two doors to her left. She followed it, hoping that it might be her father, or even her elusive twin, Pietro.
When she opened the door, the sight that met her eyes completely threw her off. A tall young man was dancing and twirling about, holding a jar and a slab of bread. His mop of mandarin-blonde hair swished around with the movements of his body. He was completely naked aside from his socks and a pair of orange happy-face boxers with flames coming up the sides. He was singing, along with the stereo, at the top of his lungs.
"Now woman, I said stay away American woman, listen what I say American woman, get away from me American woman, mama let me be Don't come here knocking around my door Don't want to see your shadow no more Colored lights can hypnotize Sparkle someone else's eyes-
"Pietro?"
Her voice startled him, and he dropped the jar he was singing into. It smashed all over the linoleum tiles, and a foul smell filled the room. It was like unfermented beer mixed with rotten carrots. He spun around, and Wanda saw that he had written 'HOT', in bold lettering, across his chest in black magic-marker and flames scribbled on his abs.
His eyes widened at the sight of her. The man was obviously not expecting her to be there. "Wh- I- err..." he snatched an apron off of a hook and covered himself. " 'Allo."
St.John inwardly smiled at the sight before him. The girl didn't look much younger than he was. She was staring at him intently, almost like she had been searching for him all of her life, then finally found him. She was probably another one of Gambit's girlfriends, by the look of her. She looked to be the type the promiscuous Cajun was obsessing over lately: pale, dark hair, constantly scowling. Oddly enough, she was wearing her pajamas.
"Pietro?" Wanda inquired again. If this guy really was her brother, she wondered why he looked so different from her and her father.
St.John laughed. "Sorry, love. I'm afraid he's not 'ere."
She became nervous, but that was overcome by a certain instinct. This man was standing, almost naked, in her house. He wasn't her brother, and he had a foreign accent. Wanda allowed this instinct to take her, and she lunged at him, knocking him to the floor. Her senses were telling her to kill the intruder.
Wanda struggled with him. She punched his chest violently until he managed to grab hold of her flailing arms. She thrashed them in attempt to release herself, but he only tightened his grip.
"Steady-on, love! We've only just met!" he grunted, flipping them over so he was on top.
Wanda breathed deeply, still pulling at her arms. "Let me go!" she commanded, glaring at him murderously. She could feel a small piece of glass cutting into her side.
~*~
Remy and Piotr pulled into the garage. Remy noticed that St.John's JEEP was already there.
"It appears that our little comrade is back from trip." Piotr stated with slight amusement.
Remy chuckled, pocketing his keys. "Y'know what dat mean..."
Piotr nodded. "More Vege-"
Piotr was cut off by a loud crash and a scream. The two of them glanced at each other, then ran inside.
~*~
"No. Ya' might hurt me." St.John adjusted himself so he was straddling her waist.
Wanda squirmed. "Who are you?!"
"I could ask the you same thing!"
Wanda's heart sank. She would've liked the answer herself. She was about to retort when the door burst open and two large men came barreling into the Kitchen.
"St.John! Wha-?!" the shorter of the two gawked at the two on the floor. "Sorry, homme! If we had known you had a date, we would've made other plans!"
"Do you mind, Remy?! I'm a little busy being ATTACKED here!" St.John snapped sarcastically. The struggling girl beneath him took advantage of his distraction, and again gained the upper-hand.
Wanda got him in a full-nelson. She glared challengingly at the other two. Suddenly, the tall one with black hair came to her captor's rescue. He wrapped his massive hands around her waist and pried her off. Wanda continued to kick and scream and thrash her arms about, slapping every square inch of her assailant's chest.
"Gently now, Pete," the man named Remy joked, "don' 'urt de petite femme!"
"That is not funny, comrade." Piotr frowned, avoiding the girl's flailing limbs as best he could.
Wanda growled, glaring at Remy. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a metal spoon charged at the lewd Cajun and thwacked him in the head.
The grip around her waist became slack, and Wanda fell to the floor, landing on her rear. All eyes were on her, gawking in awe.
"What?!" she demanded, feeling quite peturbed.
Apparently, the man in the apron was just as confused as she was. He looked between his two companions with the same expression she had. "What's with you two? I think I missed something..."
"St.John, I think you being apologizing to girl..." Piotr warned.
"Why?! She came in here and attacked ME!"
Remy 'shushed' him. "Non, mon ami... Petey's right. Ya don' wanna get on dis one's bad-side."
"A li'l too late for that, mate!"
"She's Magneto's girl..."
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I like cheese.
May the Glomp Gods smile upon you! And may Pyro always dance in his boxers, because we loves him!
Bai-Bai!