Author's Note: I haven't abandoned NonExistent, I promise. A very awesome young lady under the penname of messaged me with this request for a short story, and since I've never had a request before, I thought I'd go for it. So, yes I am still writing NonExistent and yes I am writing this.
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men or any of their characters, nor do I own Waverly and Willow Monet, for they are the property of the amazing . Ask her if you want to use them.
Warnings: This chapter is rated T for language, violence, and the not always child friendly personalities of the twins. The rating will go up, however, in the future chapters for sexual situations that are not in any way child friendly. This is your first warning.
"Hey Waverly?"
"Yeah?"
"Are those bars supposed to bend?"
"Obviously no, Willow; they would be pretty shitty cell bars if they did."
"Oh. Waverly?"
"What?"
"They put us in a pretty shitty cell."
Criick!
Willow squeals as she falls back onto her prison cot, her hands coming up to block the pieces of cement that go flying as the prison cell door rips from its very foundations. Her gray eyes watch, wide in surprise, as the bars levitate above the ground before landing with a crash to the side. "Waverly? You're seeing this, right?"
Instead of answering, Willow's sister drops down from the top bunk and lands silently on the ground, and she edges to the gaping hole, cautiously peeking into the cement-dust cloud. She drops to the ground in a crouch only a second before a disk of metal cuts through the air, exactly where her head used to be.
"Well, it seems your skills were not exaggerated." The voice came from the same direction as the metal disk, and through the dust the girls can see a figure moving towards them. "I'm glad to see this little excursion isn't a waste of my time."
Finally he is no long obscured by the dust: he is tall, dressed in dark clothes with a metal chest piece and a metal helmet that covers most of his face. Willow scrambles off her bunk to stand beside her sister, dropping into a defensive stance to partner her sister's offensive crouch. "Who the fuck are you?" Waverly demands, her hands clenching into fists. Hate for the Warden floods her veins: if it wasn't for his damn shackles blocking her mutation, this man would be twitching on the ground by now.
"I, my dear, am your way out of this human filth." He spreads his arms to indicate the cement prison walls, the metal bunks, and the toilet in the corner.
"Who says we want to leave? Took us a lot of effort to get here." Willow snaps, not liking his superior attitude.
"I say, and I think you will agree when you hear the job I have for you."
Both sisters straighten then, their interest piqued at the word 'job'. "What kind of job?" Waverly demands.
The man smirks, "A dangerous one."
The sisters look at each other, matching grins spreading across their faces; Waverly turns back to the man, "Okay, we're in."
The man, introduced as Magneto as they left the utterly destroyed prison, had a jet waiting for them in the prison yard; excitement buzzes down Willow's spine as she jumps on board, turning to help her sister up. Waverly is more contained, her expression carefully blank as she looks around.
The jet is occupied, a woman in the pilot seat waiting for them; a blue, naked woman. Waverly pulls her sister to the seats in the back before Willow can start to stare.
"We're off." The woman calls and the jet smoothly leaves the ground, soaring to incredible heights in only seconds.
"Very good, Mystique." The man praises, and then he turns to look back at the sisters. "Waverly Monet" he nods to one girl, "and Willow Monet" he nods to the other, "espionage and mercenary experts." He pulls off his helmet, revealing an older man with silver hair. "Glad to have you on our side."
"Actually, I'm Willow." Willow says, raising her hand slightly. "I'm the shorter twin."
The man nods apologetically, "I am Magneto, and she is Mystique." He motions to the blue woman expertly navigating the skies. "I am the leader of the Brotherhood."
"Oh! I've heard of you before. You're fighting for Mutant Superiority, right?" Willow asks.
"Correct, but we are not unopposed. Charles Xavier, a former colleague, has a little group called the X-Men; they are our main obstacle. And it is because of them I have enlisted your help."
Waverly smirks, her fingers tapping out the Fifth Symphony against her leg, "Sounds like fun."
"Sparring room in the basement, library to the back, kitchen on this floor, and rooms upstairs." Mystique lists off as they enter the large manor.
"Well, this will do, I guess. Not as much fun as a prison cell, but we can manage." Willow nods her agreement to her sister's words with a mischievous grin.
"Glad you approve." Sarcasm drips from Mystique's mouth and without another word she leaves the sisters at the front door and stalks upstairs.
When the blue lady has disappeared, the twins turns to each other with matching excitement: Willow's more obvious in her grin, but Waverly's just as much in her amber eyes.
"You take the left, I'll take the right?" Waverly prompts, mischief turning her normally stoic expression to an attractive smile.
"Meet here in an hour?" Willow adds. With nods, they head off.
Waverly doesn't waste anytime; she's been itching for a fight ever since Magneto first appeared. She heads straight for the basement: specifically the sparring room. Maybe someone worth her effort would be there.
After some brief trouble with a dead end hallway, she finds the sparring room, and her sparring partner. He is tall, a beast of a man with coils of muscle down each arm: Waverly watches as he claws easily through the target dummies with one hand. There was a lot of strength wrapped up in this package.
Not one to be intimidated, Waverly pushes open the glass doors and lets their bang announce her arrival. With a growl, the man spins around, teeth barred in a snarl at the unwanted intrusion. The sight that greets him brings him up short though: what the fuck was this little twig of a girl doing down here? He growls again, not liking her presence or the way the sweet honey scent that was coming off of her made his head fuzzy.
Waverly sizes up the man before her, enjoying the thrill that runs down her spine. Every instinct in her body screams 'Dangerous. Threat. Strong.' And she loves it.
"What are you doing, girly?" His voice, more of a growl that question, just makes Waverly step further into the sparring room. His dark eyes track her every move like a predator watching his prey.
"Looking for a good fight." She lets the words hang for a second, "You up to the challenge, big boy?"
His growl deep in his chest is all the answer he gives before he is upon her.
It is only long bred instinct that saves Waverly, because she had severely underestimated his speed. Determined not to do so again, she retreats to the middle of the gym mat and grins cheekily, "That all you got, buddy?"
He flexes his claws and runs at this insolent girl, slashing at her throat; she backs away, always only a hairsbreadth away from being torn open. Waverly watches closely as he moves, and she sees her opening a second before he can correct himself. She grabs his wrist as he over balances and she spins with his momentum, pulling him even further off center. He can't stop; his body slams into the wall with a crunch.
Grinning, Waverly backs off again. The man pushes away from the wall and turns sharply, enraged now; he wipes away the dribble of blood running from his nose. One step forward, another, another; the girl doesn't move, bolstered by her brief attack, and when she finally realizes the danger, it is too late.
Waverly gasps as she spins away, her shoulder taking the claws aimed for her throat and pain spreads as deep gouges result from her escape. When she is a safe distance away from the man, she stops and they glare at each other from across the room. Blood drips from her hand, trailing from her shoulder.
Smirking, the man licks her blood off his hand, and his eyes darken. He growls. Waverly bares her teeth in return. With a calculated step, she stalks forward; he matches her step for step until they are only a few feet apart. They circle slowly.
"My name's Waverly; you can call me Vixen." She winks. They circle again. "Well? What's your name?" He ignores her, just continues to measure her up. "Come on, I need something to scream... in pain." She grins as his eyes grow darker, her words hanging with hidden meaning between them.
"Sabretooth." He grunts.
"Sabretooth," Waverly purrs, letting it roll of her tongue deliciously. With a roar, Sabretooth attacks and again they are off. Waverly dodges and he claws, he attacks and she moves just in time for him to ricochet off the wall. Sweat runs down her back as she dodges another swipe and then flips to evade a kick; her foot catches him under the chin and he bites through his tongue with a grunt. Blood flows into his mouth and down his chin; Waverly licks her lips as her eyes follow the blood path. Distracted, she moves too slow and Sabretooth's arms trap her in a steel grip.
His arms pin hers to her sides, and his claws pierce her sides, blood welling up and staining her blouse. It pools up over his claws and runs down his wrists. When Waverly tries to escape, his claws tug at her skin; more blood runs down her sides.
"Gotcha girly." He breathes down her neck, a growl echoing from him into her.
Waverly turns her head, her face only centimeters from his, and she winks, "Is that right?"
He crumbles, every muscle, nerve, and sense shutting down simultaneously. When she has her breath caught, Waverly steps away and retracts enough of her influence to give Sabretooth back his vision and hearing. The pure rage in his eyes makes a nice shiver run down her spine. "Don't worry, love, it only lasts a little while. Come find me if you want something-" she pauses, licks a drop of her own blood off her finger, "-a little less violent."
She leaves him there with a grin and a satisfied sigh; now that she had gotten that out of her system, she could go explore more. First stop, find a library.
Willow wasn't as lucky as her twin; she was utterly and undeniably lost in this house that didn't seem so big at first. When she turned right, she saw hallways; when she turned left, she saw hallways. Why were there so many hallways?!
Finally: about time!: it's not a hallway that appears, but a door. A big, metal door that absolutely should never ever be opened without permission. Of course, that just makes Willow want to open it more. A second or two later, and she easily pushes open the previously locked door. Really, why have such a big door if you're just gonna put a standard lock on it? That's just asking to be picked.
The door opens to what is obviously a loft, full of shiny metal machinery. It has a sterile feeling, but also a frequently used feel. Willow walks in silently, looking at everything curiously, but she freezes when a loud BANG erupts from the bottom level under the loft, followed by loud cursing. Even more curious now, she leans over the railing that edges the loft. Below is a deeper room full of more shiny machinery. And within this machinery is a man with brown hair and skin tinged green, cursing enough to make a sailor blush.
Quietly, Willow slides down until she is sitting, her legs hanging over the loft edge and her arms on the rail. This isn't the library, but it was proving just as interesting.
Toad cursed again, buried to his hips inside the new sentry robot the boss had asked for last week: something inside wasn't operating right and it was causing a lot of potential problems. Finding a wire that he is positive should be connected to something, Toad takes a wild guess and hooks it up to Motherboard C.
And something deep inside the sentry explodes. Cursing more, Toad pulls out and picks up the nearby extinguisher, dousing the growing flames. Grumbling: this is gonna take hours to fix: Toad sets the can down with a huff. He needs a cigarette.
Toad pauses, confused; quiet laughter comes from above. Looking, Toad is more than a little confused to see a girl with a curly mess of brown hair sitting on his loft. When she sees she has been spotted, she waves.
"What the hell are you doing in here" He yells up, tossing his tools on his worktable.
"The door was open." Willow lies with an easy smile.
"Bullshit." He calls back just as easy.
Willow shrugs, confessing without a word or guilt. "My name is Willow, but most call me Viper."
"Mortimer, but I prefer Toad."
"What are ya workin' on, Toad?"
"Robot. Why are you in here?"
"Bored, saw the door, thought something or someone in here might entertain me." Willow pauses, but Toad doesn't say anything, distracted by a misplaced tool. "Well?" Willow calls down expectantly.
"Well what?" Toad replies annoyed. What did this girl want? He had work to do!
"Are you going to entertain me or not?"
Toad stares up at her, one eyebrow raised. "Why the hell would I do that?"
"Cause I'm cute?" She tries. Blank look. "How about cause you're a nice guy?" Blanker. Willow sighs, "Maybe cause I can poison you with my breath?"
Now he looks interested. "Just your breath?"
"Yep."
"Get down here." Toad motions to the staircase as he turns to his worktable, looking for something. Excited now, Willow scrambles to comply, charging down the stairs. Clumsy as ever, she trips on the last step and just barely manages to catch herself before a full tumble. She scowls as Toad grins at her embarrassment, but soon she is too absorbed in looking at all of the half-finished projects to care. "Hey, uhh, Willow, get over here." Taking her sweet time, running a hand over everything, she finally makes it to him. "Breathe in this." He orders, holding up what looks like a hi-tech breathalyzer.
"Why?" She asks warily.
"I wanna see if your poison matches up to mine."
Curious, about Toad not herself, she grabs the device. Just before she complies though, Willow is struck by a need to tease. She glances at Toad from the corner of her eye and sees he is watching carefully; grinning to herself, she decides to go for it. Slowly, Willow wraps her lips around the tube, a soft moan escaping as she breathes into it. She watches as Toad's eyes widen and he swallows loudly.
The machine beeps then, breaking his attention and giving him a new thing to focus on. He takes the device back and reads the information carefully.
"Interesting..." Toad turns away and hooks the device up to a computer.
"What? What's interesting? What did you find? What-"
"Quiet!" Toad holds up his hand. "God, you're worse than flame boy... Your breath has a few of the same chemicals, but it focuses more on Hemotoxins than anything else."
"That means it destroys red blood cells, stops clotting, and damages organs and tissue, right?" Willow asks curiously.
Toad looks at Willow, slightly shocked and more than a little impressed, "Uhh, yeah, actually that's right."
Willow smirks at his surprised look. "I didn't go to college, but I'm not stupid."
Toad turns to fully face her now, curious himself about this new recruit. "Who are you?"
Willow squints at him, "Uh, we already covered this. Me, Willow, you, Mortimer, remember?"
Toad scowls at her before elaborating, "Why did Magneto spring you and your twin from that German prison?"
"Beats me." Willow shrugs, picking up a screwdriver and twirling it, "Probably cause we are gorgeous twin babes and he's a pervy old man."
Toad looks at her for a second, eyebrow raised, and when she doesn't even crack a smile, he crumbles into laughter. Willow lets herself grin now, glad to have finally broken though Toad's hard shell. When finally he gathers himself back together, Toad shakes his head in lingering amusement and disbelief, "Don't let boss or Mystique hear you call him that."
"Mystique? Oh, you mean the blue nudist lady?" Toad chuckles and Willow smiles. "Now," she continues, "there are a lot of shiny gadgets in here, and I wanna see them all." She heads off deeper into the room before Toad can stop her.
"No! Don't touch those!"
Waverly smiles as she finally pulls the right book from the top shelf, perched perilously on the highest rung of a ladder. Of Mice and Men one of her favorites. Spinning haphazardly, she sits on the rung and flips open the cover.
A second later, she flips off the ladder and lands in a crouch feet away as the ladder splinters. Waverly looks from the destroyed ladder to the ladder destroyer. "Couldn't stay away, pussy cat?" She grins, which infuriates Sabretooth even more. He growls and steps forward; Waverly responds by winking: his other leg takes a step back against his control. "Careful, big boy; you're strong, but I don't think you're all that flexible."
He roars his defiance and struggles another step closer; she grins and jerks her head to the left. Before the first pained grunt can pass his lips, Waverly is out the door.
Seconds later, Sabretooth chases after her, a predatory glint in his eyes and a dangerous smirk on his lips.
The crashes are within seconds of each other and from opposite wings of the manor. The first, from the right, is the crash of expensive vases and doors being slammed closed and then crashed through; primal roars mix in with the commotion. The second, from the left, is accompanied by thick black smoke billowing through the ventilation system to the entire house, and a mixture of curses and laughter.
Mystique glares at the floor before getting up and opening the large window in Erik's office.
"I think," Erik begins with a thoughtful tone, "We have gotten more than we anticipated."
"Will they still be useful?" She asks, sitting beside him on the lounge in the corner.
Another crash, more growling.
"Oh, I do believe so; more than expected." Erik smirks.
Another crash, more smoke.
AN2: Hope you enjoyed this little introduction chapter. There aren't going to be many chapters to this: three or four more: just enough for me to establish a relationship and throw them in a bed together, but I hope you enjoy the ride, no matter how short.