DISCLAIMER:
AUTHORS NOTES:
My first Evolution fic! I've only seen like, 6 episodes of the show (although I love it!) so forgive me if I don't screw something up. Yes, you heard me. DON'T screw something up. Mesa on a sugar high!!Anything *like this* is telepathy, ok?
The sun was shining. Birds were cheeping. Evan had decided that he would make the best of this gorgeous day, and go buy some new wheels for his skateboard. That's why he happened to be walking down the street, carrying a bag of the heavy wheels when SHE appeared.
In a cloud of blue smoke, a girl appeared in mid-air about a metre above the ground before dropping with a scream on top of him. Groaning, Evan pushed her off, and surveyed her with surprise. It wasn't everyday that strange girls dropped out of the sky on top of him- though he wasn't complaining.
"Who are you?" Evan demanded. "And how did you do that?"
The girl stood up, pushed her brown hair out of her eyes, and grinned. "I'm the author of this sad little fic." she announced. "I came here using a plot device, and will remain until I have sufficiently screwed around with your life. Then, I shall disappear, and watch with glee the havoc I have caused."
Evan blinked in surprise. "You're what? An author? What the hell does that mean!"
The author waved her hands at him dismissivly. "What I am doesn't matter at the moment. I have a question to ask you that will, hopefully, send you into a state of interesting insanity that I can write about."
Evan was starting to get fed up. Whoever she was, she was obviously crazy, and he just wanted to go home and fix up his board. Not to mention, he had a training session in the Danger Room with Scott in about two hours, and he had to help Kurt to play a suitable prank on Kitty before then. "Well, go on. Ask your question, so I can go home."
The author glared at him for a moment. "No need to be rude about it. Ok, my question is- why aren't there holes in your costume?"
There was silence for a moment. Passerby's stared oddly at the two teenagers staring at each other without speaking, before moving on. Then, Evan spoke up cautiously. "What. The. Hell?"
She sighed. "Well, remember that game of basketball you played with poor Pietro where you were lauded as the hero, and he got shit-all attention? The one your aunt came to watch?"
Evan nodded. "Yeah. And the point is...?"
She glared at him again, and slapped him lightly over the arm. "Patience! I'm getting to it! Aaanyways...remember how you sneezed in the locker room, and your spikes shot out, and you had heaps of holes in your clothes?"
He frowned. "I remember. How do you know though?"
"I'm an author, remember?" She reminded him. "I know all. But I'm becoming sidetracked. You had holes in your clothes then...but how come, whenever you shoot spikes out when you're in your groovy X-Costume, you never have holes in it?"
"That's easy. It's cause-" Evan paused. "Hey, wait! How does that work!?"
The author smiled smugly. "Bye!" With that, she disappeared again in a cloud of blue smoke.
"Come back!" Evan cried out to thin air. "My whole world has just been disrupted. YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME HERE WITHOUT THE ANSWERS!"
His only reply was a lot of odd looks from the poor innocent citizens, who hurried along to get away from the crazed teenage boy. Evan sat down on the curb, and began pondering what the strange girl had asked him. What to do now?
Suddenly, he stood up again. He knew what to do! He would head back to the mansion, tell his fellow X-Men exactly what had transpired today, and see if they could help him find an answer to that one question- Why aren't there holes in his costume?
~~~~~
Evan jogged up the steps to the mansion, and slammed the huge door shut behind him, the sound echoing through the enormous establishment. "Kurt?" he called out. "Kitty? Jean? Heeeeellllooooo?"
Against the back of his mind, he felt a strange tingling sensation, and Jean's awareness brushed against his. *We're out the back* she told him. *What's the matter, Evan?*
*I'll tell you in a moment* he informed her, and broke the connection. Evan ran through the winding corridors of the house, through the kitchen, and out the back door, where Jean and Kitty were lounging by the pool. "I have a huge problem." He announced, and the inane chatter ceased as the two girls stared at him.
"Well, like, what is it?" Kitty asked impatiently. "I like, don't have all day!"
Evan winced as the word 'like' grated against his mind, but pushed it aside. "Well, long story short, I met some girl who called herself an author today. She asked me a strange question that has totally destroyed my mind."
Instead of giving him queer looks, which he had expected, Jean and Kitty just nodded sympathetically.
"You poor thing." Jean said soothingly. "It was only a matter of time before they started on you too."
"Who?" Evan asked, confused.
Kitty laughed girlishly. "Duh! The, like, authors of course! They're those ones who like, screw around with your life until you like, totally don't know what's going on!"
Evan's jaw dropped. "That's what the girl said! Well, without all those 'likes' of course. How do you know that, Kitty?"
She laughed again. "Like, duh! I have had sooooo many stories, like written about me! By the way," she said thoughtfully to Jean, "am I going out with Kurt this week, or are we just, like, friends?"
Jean pondered. "I'm not sure. I'm pretty sure you're with Kurt. You might want to log onto Fanfiction.Net later, and check out what's going on."
Evan cleared his throat. "Excuse me?"
The two girls ignored him, and continued with their mindless talk about who was going out with who. (Apparently Rogue was fighting off Lance, even while him and Pietro were having a relationship.)
Sighing with annoyance, Evan walked off to find someone else who could help him with his problem. His new motto was 'Never go to a teeny-bopper/valley girl and her companion when in need of help.'
Still annoyed, he walked into the kitchen. "Logan, sir!" he yelled. "Hey, Scott! I'll even take you at the moment. I NEED HELP!"
*****************************************************************************
...Or TV. Or comics. Or my house....oh wait, the Disclaimers over! (Wow, I own nothing!) Ok, that's the first chapter. Weird? GOOD! Ok, if you should, for some reason, want more, then you have to review.
