Title: Claim Sanctuary
Summary: The Bamfs shall forever be in love with Kitty , and we have to admit that even now, in their most recent incarnation. Takes place after WATXM #7. Dedicated to squidbiscuit, pixienerd and Marg Hammerman for being AWESOME.
Warnings: These Bamfs, I feel, are unisex and therefore smooth as Ken dolls so perverts will be disappointed; swearing, unwanted sexual attention, etc. This is a high 'T' though not quite 'M'.
Disclaimer: I make no money and own no characters or franchise.
Dedication: Let's see, pixienerd and Marg Hammerman; they're such big fans of the Kurtty pair that they're both even willing to try out Kitty/Kurt Darkholme and plop them out for people to read all over the net. This was intended to be one of the few Kurt D./Kitty fics on Earth, but then I realized that the Bamfs as they are now don't get enough attention and I love them so… *walks away* But let's not forget squidbiscuit over at Deviantart who actually has art on our favorite interdimensional gremlins. OMG it is so awesome!
-:-
The school's syllabus includes 'Bamf Hunting Club with Professor Logan' as an Extracurricular Activity.
-Unknown Internet Fact Sites.
A stiff breeze of odorous smoke. A sound that wasn't much like any other sound.
Kitty looked up from grading her students' papers to look at her open balcony door; the air from the outside pressed into her drapes and flapped twice before the scent in the air passed and the skin along her nose wrinkled. Her ears twitched just a little as her eyes looked down upon the horrible lettering and sighed at just how much more she had left to grade until she was free to leave her office and stretch her legs as she went to get her own lunch at such a late hour as two in the afternoon. On a Saturday, no less.
Her red pen was taken up in hand again and she started in on Broo's paper (though the bother of it all seemed somewhat pointless as he always got A's in her class without fail; hell, he got A's in almost every class) and thanked God that she wouldn't have to read over it twice. Perfect handwriting among the students was difficult to come by and her daily headache was already starting.
Her pen started to ink out the first line for the 'A' and then she heard it.
Tiny hands and feet on smooth papers and tiny teeth chattering and prehensile appendages brushing the surface of the cherry oak desk that held the papers.
Her hazel-brown eyes tilted to the side in an almost bored fashion (why would she react any other way after all this time) and looked to where her already graded papers sat on the floor in a little cluster of white or light yellow, being set about in a circle and then crinkled up in tiny, three-fingered hands as if in an attempt to make a tent or a nest or something equally ridiculous. She could make out the paper in the very center of it all as Kid Gladiator's, but didn't feel any inclination to be upset as it was stomped on. He always screwed up her class and never got a mark above a 'C'.
A dozen glowing yellow eyes looking up without remorse.
She supposed that she should have felt a bit more outraged at having all of her hard work turned into nothing but nesting material by a half dozen Bamfs, but honestly, in the last couple of days, she had felt like she owed them and had turned down any urges to get angry at their defacement of..anything, really. And she did owe them; probably as much as she owed Hank and everyone else that had been involved with her "pregnancy" scare and the fight with Professor Starblood.
The six before her, in particular, had been hanging around her recently. The same six that had first found her on the ice cold floor and prodded her to be sure she was alright before teleporting her away. She had gotten them to bring her back and call on some of their brethren to fight Starblood in the end, and she had lost track after all of the confusion and being checked over for anything that could have been left from the Brood egg sac, but these were the same six.
She leaned onto both her hands and looked down at them as they continued to either look up at her or work on their next of papers on the floor, "And what are you guys doing here, huh? Shouldn't you be out raiding Wolverine's things?"
The tallest out of all of the six before her (and by the tallest, she meant he looked to be nineteen inches tall to the others at their own fifteen inches) brought his tail out from where he'd been concealing it under the desk and held up a smooth yellow-brown bottle, tiny sharp teeth grinning, "Whiskey!"
A shout, a kick, a blow, a sound of wood and metal twisting so it crashed with the noise of a telephone pole going down after being hit with a truck.
Kitty looked from how the Bamfs ducked into the alcove under her desk that she currently parked her lower half in and then out the window where she could distinctly hear Logan yelling, "Fuck it, Warren; if you're gonna try and catch a Bamf, I told ya that you have to listen to Bobby, fer fuck's sake. That, or ya' can't participate in this extracurricular."
"Apologies, headmaster Logan."
A light tug on brown hair. A tiny hand braced to bare knee. A small weight along the lining of her stomach that was still recovering from the stress of the Brood thing from just a little while ago.
Kitty sighed and leaned back in her chair to find one of the other Bamfs playing with her loose ponytail (he might have been trying for a braid, but was failing horribly at it) and the rest of them—aside from the one with the whiskey—using her as a perch when the noise from outside positioned further to the other side of the school.
The one with the whiskey was sitting on the paper that belonged to Broo and held up the bottle of alcohol as if he was making an offer of peace in exchange for a place for the six of them to hide. He even added in what, perhaps to the other Bamfs, might have been perceived as a friendly grin, trying to also look adorable.
One of the others patted her belly, being audacious enough to slip one tiny hand under the hem of her shirt and prod at her navel like she was the Pillsbury Doughboy, earning itself a shriek of protest from Kitty and a chittery snicker from the others that had chosen to sit on her knees, the top of her head and her shoulders.
A small explosion of glass, or something that was remarkably similar as it crashed into red brick and brown stone and a Canadian boomed out.
"There ya go, Evan! Now just take the little fucker to Hank like everyone else has and we'll see how long it'll take until it's back to running amuck like the rest of them."
The Bamf on her desk looked highly displeased, but instead of disappearing in smoke, he looked back at Kitty and did a maneuver with his face that was ridiculous and shouldn't have been possible and, oh God, how did it pull off puppy eyes so damn well?
"…Fine, you can hide here until Logan and the kids are done; just let me finish these grades in peace, okay?"
The five already atop her figure keened something fierce and started to appreciatively rub their faces into Kitty's neck and hair, earning her more indignity than she already possessed as the last one jumped from her desk, wrapped his arms and legs and that damn tail around her neck and chest. He squeezed what he was holding onto and then leaned up and—surprise and horror of horrors—gave her a quick kiss to the tip of her nose.
When the others tried to do the same thing she growled low in her throat (God bless Logan for often being a bad example for normal behavior) and she found her body free of them as they went back to nesting, leaving her to her papers.
Before she went back to grading, however, the tallest one looked at her one last time and actually frickin' winked at her. Winked, and then started in on the whiskey as the others decided that Dust's papers would be great to add to the bottom of their nest.
"…This totally makes us even," Kitty muttered, pen to paper and red ink smearing a little bit. She cussed when the red smeared on her palm and the tallest of the small group of Bamfs choked on his sip of the whiskey as it laughed at her.