Hmm, new story.
Pairing: Scott Summers (Cyclops) and Raven Darkholme (Mystique)
The pairing is odd I get it, but I am a diehard fan of Scott Summers and was inspired to write this after seeing their chemistry in 'Ultimacy' by seriousish and 'What They Deserve' by Katta. Just 'cause I used the word pairing doesn't mean they are going to be romantically involved, you just have to read and see, I guess.
Disclaimer: (I still don't get it, why we have to do this?) The following characters belong to Marvels and I – a humble and sometimes complaining writer – am just satisfying my thirst to have things my way. Oh yes! I acquire no profit from writing this, hope you already know that.
This will be a three chapter story, each one focusing on a particular aspect of it and having a particular related context.
So just read, relax and review.
… …
Chapter 1: Kidnapped.
"Good afternoon passengers. This is the pre-boarding announcement for flight 89B to Anchorage, Alaska. We are now inviting those passengers with small children, and any passengers requiring special assistance, to begin boarding at this time. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready. Regular boarding will begin in approximately ten minutes time. Thank you."
The flight announcer's feminine voice droned in fake pleasantry, dripping sugary sweetness and all the associated passengers hefted their luggage, and made their way to where the airline attendant was and lined up in a queue.
Among them was one such person, uniquely identified by his distinctive and stylish red shades. The man was in a word, handsome. Standing at a height of 6'1", this was the former field leader of X-Men, a group of extraordinary powers whose main motive was peaceful coexistence between humans and Mutants. He was fair skinned and had brown hair, covered in a simple white t-shirt and faded blue jeans with red stripped sports shoes. His brown leather jacket was on his left arm, which held a single knapsack bag, and on his right were his plane ticket and driver's license for identification.
This man was Scott Summers, a.k.a. Cyclops.
Scott waited for his turn in the queue and on his arrival, handed the papers to the woman on the other side of the counter. She was a cute thing, with blonde hair in a bob cut and pretty brown eyes, and, who also seems to be taking a little longer for his checking.
"Those are quite the shades, Mr. Summers." The attendant lightly complimented, flirting with Scott, but nevertheless quickly handed the documents back to him.
Taking the papers and stuffing them in his bag, Scott replied, "Thank you." He then moved forward along with the other passengers to board the airplane through the aerobridge.
There was another woman, most likely an air hostess, standing at the door of the plane, helping the passengers by directing them towards their designated seat. Scott's was a window one. Many would think of this as a great opportunity to gaze outside. But Scott wasn't one to find joy in such mundane things.
After all most if not all his enjoyment had been sucked out of his life.
Scott placed his sole hand bag in the above compartment, after removing a new and fresh book from it, and sat down on the seat. He just stared at the book for a while, its title gleaming in the fluorescent light of the plane.
Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant
Professor had suggested it for him, saying, he would like it. Although he was not a customary of novel reading, he sometimes likes to indulge in what the world has to offer. He had nothing do for a long while, might as well give it a try.
All the while as Scott was reading the starting passage of the light novel, the passengers were filling in and were taking their respective seats. There was a commotion, a few rows in front of him regarding seating arrangements, but he ignored it and focused on his reading.
"Hey do you mind if I seat here?"
Hearing the slightly breathy and heaving voice, Scott looked up from his reading and promptly forgot how to breathe.
Standing in front of him was Jean. She was huffing and puffing, bending over and having a hand over her heart, seeming to try to catch her breath. She was wearing a green sweater that stretched on her chest and skinny jeans that fitted on her not so skinny legs.
"Jean?" Scott asked with disbelief, his heart soaring and a lump forming in his throat, seeing her alive and well.
"Who?" she asked with a questioning frown marring her perfect, angelic face, before a knowing smirk came onto her cupid bow lips, "Ahh! So you want to know my name, huh? You should have just asked; there was no need for the whole 'Do I know you?' part. You do know that it has become quite old, don't you? You should try some other pick up lines, handsome. Maybe then I would consider getting to know you better. Although I do not fancy such fast guys, I guess, I can make an exception for such a cute man." She finished with a wink and grin, before placing her burgundy purse on the overhead cabin.
No, not Jean, but somebody else, somebody who looked a lot like Jean. How was that possible? Even her voice was very similar to hers. It's like both were twins and he was just meeting her new found sister.
Scott's eyes were wide behind his shades, looking at the copy of his lover. She looked just like his Jean, and would be her carbon copy, if not for her dressing sense and her obvious talking style.
His Jean was not so flirty and opens with anybody she has just met. She was, in her own way, quite reserved and mild mannered, while this woman was anything but.
Although seeing her, even if just her carbon copy, opened old wounds and memories of his time spent with her.
"Hello? Are you there?" she questioned and clicked her fingers in front of him, waking him from his reverie – or was that brooding? "I know I am beautiful, but there is no need for you to stare. It's rude you know?" She continued, with her same breathy voice but with a tone mischief in them, like she was chiding him. As does a teacher to her student, when they are being found guilty of doing something, they should not.
Scott furrowed his brows at her behavior – no, not at all like his Jean - and stoically replied, "Sure." Ignoring all her unnecessary questions and answering for the very first one.
Saying that, he returned his attention back to his book, trying to forget about his dead love and simultaneously about her look alike.
But it seems, life was not about to let him forget, at least not for awhile, while he is in this plane.
"What I mean is. Can I sit in your seat? You see, I would really like to watch out the window and it would be really difficult for me to do that, sitting here. And then I would have to lean over you, although I don't mind doing that, but I think it would be an inconvenience for you. So...?" She trailed, awaiting his answer.
Scott frowned in resignation and stood up - ready to change his row altogether, not only his seat - but before he could do that, the Jean look alike brushed past him, igniting his body with her warm heat and setting his nerves afire. He involuntarily took a whiff of her scent as her waist length fiery red hair ghosted over his nose, filling his senses with the sweet tart of apples.
Her entire back grazed his front in her charge to reach the window and she sat down, instantly facing out the glass window. Scott was shocked at her audacity and invasion of his personal space and scowled at her, who missed it completely. He shook his head slightly in incredulity and called the nearby hostess, who was by now helping a new passenger with his seat belt problem.
"How may I help you sir?" Her voice gained the attention of the rude woman who seemed oddly interested in him now.
"Is there any other place where I can sit?" Scott asked with a neutral tone, his past irritation shoved at the back of his mind.
The air hostess glanced behind him at the woman, with a crinkle on her forehead, who was waving her arms with a brandishing action before settling into a cross. The unfortunate recipient of such action was clearly confused which got settled when the woman moved her head side by side, even mouthing the word, 'NO'.
The hostess then directed her attention back to Scott, who was standing there perfectly still, patiently waiting. The hostess hid a small smile behind her gloved hand as she understood his situation.
They were obviously a couple, or infatuated with each other and had a spat somehow. The woman was trying to make amend by extending the olive branch – girls are inherently smart and sensitive that way – and the man was surely resisting, courtesy of his stubborn male pride.
Trying to help the situation and reconnect the lovers she answered, "We are extremely sorry sir, but all other are full and there are none available."
The red-headed woman mouthed the word 'Thank You', and gave her a cheery smile. Scott scowled slightly and decided not to give further trouble to the hostess, "It's okay. I will manage." And sat at his - her - seat, subtly ignoring her and looking at his book instead, ready to continue his novel from where he had left, before he was interrupted.
Even though his eyes were on the start of the second page, his mind was not. He couldn't really believe it. Once during his pre-teen years when he had just been enrolled in Professor's school – at that time mansion - and was traumatized from the past experiences, Jean, his Jean, who at that time was nothing but a faceless girl yet was his only friend had said something that had always given him courage and stillness at times of despair and chaos.
"I will always be with you till the very end, I promise."
And she had made true of that promise. She was always by his side, always a source of light in this otherwise darkened world. She was always there, the time when he first wore his ruby quartz glasses and saw what the world has to offer; she was the first person he saw. She was there to confront and comfort him after their first fight against the Sentinels, as a team. His fear of hurting others was reduced by her presence. He knew she was strong enough to stop him if needed. Years have come and gone by, all their previous friends lost to their lives and from their life, yet they prevailed supporting each other through numerous ups and downs.
She had said she would be by his side till the end and she kept it. She was by his side when she died on that cursed mission. There was not even a body for funeral.
It seems her promise went beyond her existence and she was now back to haunt him in the form of her replica.
He was so focused in his thoughts that he missed the attention he was getting from his co-passenger. She had turned her whole upper body and was looking - staring at him with her green sprinkled eyes. Her mouth was twisted in a grin at what she thought was avoidance from his part. Perhaps he was mortified from their earlier conversation and was now trying to ignore her?
But she wasn't the one who likes to be ignored for long.
"Come on, there is no need to feel embarrassed! It is understandable. I'm a beautiful woman and you naturally feel attracted to me," saying this she poked him in the shoulder, trying to gain his attention and his head whipped in her direction at the invasive touch.
Scott could feel a migraine starting to form in his brows and after giving her his patented blank look shifted his attention back to the novel, hoping for her to quit whatever she was trying to do.
But it seems fate was not on his side today.
Heh, when had it sided with him ever before?
The woman again poked him in the shoulder but this with a bit more force. "Hmm, do you workout? I like men who take care of their body."
Scott's lips thinned in barely compressed irritation, but he didn't acknowledge her.
She of course took this as a challenge and again tried to poke, only for his hand to shoot out and snatch hers in mid air. Scott shut the book with his right hand with a dull thump and released a barely audible sigh, before looking at her. "Stop doing that and I wasn't embarrassed. I just thought you looked like someone I knew, but after seeing your manners, I can hardly believe why I thought of you as her." Scott said and released her hand, which fell limp on her lap.
Shaking her shock at being told off, a small smirk crept on her face. "I like you. Hi, my name is Maya. And yours?" She introduced herself and offered her right hand.
Scott resisted the urge to pinch his nose from annoyance. 'Why couldn't I recognize it before? She is not Jean. Otherwise I would have felt her presence even before she stepped on the plane.'
Scott was already wary of her, not because she was a human, but because she looked like Jean. The first girl whom he had a massive crush on, the first girl to become his girlfriend and lover but above all, the first woman with whom he had imagined to live his entire life with. She was someone who he had thought would not leave him alone like his family did. But unfortunately fate had something entirely other plans for him, for it took Jean from him. He was somehow coping with her loss, but to add salt to his wounds, fate had created the clone Jean and for some reason she was sitting right next to him, being extremely chatty.
Scott decided to introduce himself and end this conversation altogether. It was becoming painful just to look at her, "Scott Summers. And I request you to do not disturb me anymore; I have to complete this book before landing." A bit of a lie didn't hurt anybody and in this case, it was quite opposite for him.
Maya frowned in confusion and hesitantly replied, "Sure."
Fortunately she stayed silent for a while and was oddly interested in Captain's flight announcement.
Scott's brow wrinkled as Maya whistled and listened as a steward went on with their regular speeches regarding safety and security. The first time passengers were giving their full attention, even few of the regular ones too. Although Scott thought they were more focused on the steward rather than what was coming from the steward.
Scott was on the fourth page, last paragraph – it was an interesting novel – when the flight took off. He closed his book without a second thought and leaned back in his seat. The cushion of his seat molding against his body and he shut his eyes. Even though his body was here, his mind was teleported to the BlackBird where he sat behind the pilot's seat, directing the jet with his anonymous co-pilot. His heart pumped blood and adrenaline rushed in his veins which in turn increased his heart rate more. He gripped the book and he imagined himself piloting the plane, making it soar in the sunny sky and letting it cut through the air. He was in his element and he never felt more comfortable before. Here there was no Jean or her clone. Only he and his Bird.
"Your glasses are cool."
His eyes opened and he was harshly brought back to reality. His small amount of reprieve broken in face of her familiar voice and in a second he was back to reading the novel. The plane was now smoothly flowing through the vast expanse of sky and from his knowledge it would take close to eight hours before he would be on Anchorage. So, it would be those torturous eight hours before he could again mourn his dead girlfriend and hopefully move on.
Maya was undeterred from his silence and again tried to start a conversation, "Can I see it?"
That got Scott's immediate attention and he reflexively leaned back from her, even though she has yet to lift her hand. Scott was rightfully wary of her. Here was a girl who was ignorant to other people's personal space and who didn't know the destruction his eyes could cause.
Scott decided he has to be strict with her. In his line of work, one can never be too cautious. And if she by her foolish playfulness decided to do anything with his glasses… well it was just a disaster waiting to be happen both economically and regarding health issues and not to mention this would only flame the hatred towards mutantkind. And that was something Scott can never let happen.
Scott's reply was cut and spoken with his firm and authoritative tone, the one he usually reserves for in the field, "No. And don't even think about it," And to emphasize his point he looked at her, straight in her green eyes, seeing his Jean yet at the same time not.
Apparently she understood it and raised her hands in mock surrender, "Okay okay. No need to sound so grumpy. If you don't want to talk, then no prob. Though I must insist on what you will be missing by not talking with me. You must be tall, dark and handsome … and brooding and it might get you girls back home, but it can only work on me for so long." She paused and waited for him to say something, and when it was evident that he was more interested in his new novel than her, her mouth turned into slight pout, "And it's not like I like you or something. You are just a guy who has the luck to sit by me and if you are such a narcissist,
'Cat calling kettle black?'
then talk with yourself for all I care." She finished with a big frown, her mouth twisted sourly and her upbeat, cheerful mood thoroughly ruined.
'Thank God.'
Maya made a conscious effort to look like she was unaffected by his silence and the resulting quiet made Scott relax in his chair, if only by a little. Though he couldn't ignore the moody and sullen vides he was getting from her.
It looked like something was just about to come from her mouth when a steward – the one Scott had asked previously - came and asked what they would like for their dinner.
Before Scott could order, Maya beat him to the punch, "I would like whatever there is today."
"And me also. Bring whatever there is but makes sure that the plate is filled."
"With extra spices in them." Maya whispered who was easily ignored by him.
He was not the scrawny, skinny kid from when Professor Xavier had first found him; he was now a bulky yet lithe young man, whose energy discharge made his metabolism several times faster than that of a normal human being.
Scott watched the hostess write their order before walking further down the row, asking other passengers.
There was a terse silence between them, with Scott reading his light novel and Maya listening to some pop music. There was a moment when Scott felt someone's eyes on him, particularly from his left direction, but he dutifully ignored them.
This only aggravated the redhead and she stood, instantly putting Scott at alert.
'Now what she is going to do?'
Without saying a word to him, she tried bypassing him, but obviously could not with what him sitting in the way. So she tried something else.
She placed both her hand on the front seat, bracing her and with her feet just lined with Scott's tried crawling from the cramped space in front of him. This caused her to hunch in a sitting pose without actually sitting. Her rear was in the air and her nose practically touching the leather of the front seats.
"What are you doing?" There was equal amount of confusion and irritation mixed in Scott's million worth question.
Fortunately or unfortunately, the time when Scott asked his question she was fully out from her seat and was on the way to cover Scott's. This caused quite a stimulating effect, with her looking like she was about to sit on Scott and with Scott looking like a deer caught in headlights. Few of the passengers were wide-eyed with their mouth hanging open at the two people's audacity.
"Can't you see? Or has your bloody red glasses caused you to go blind. I'm trying to go out." Maya's voice was muffled from the seats as she answered. There was a strain in her voice as she tried futilely to stay in the position that she found herself in. "Now if you will remove you leg, I will be eternally grateful, your 'Mr. Grumpy pants'. People are looking!"
Scott frowned at his new nickname, but quickly moved his leg. Not wanting to cause any more commotion and get unwanted attention more than he already has.
Not to mention the slight rise in his pants from the close view of her delectable derriere in the tight blue jeans.
Maya with her face a little red stood, stretching her abdomen and bending her back a bit, pushing her bountiful assets in the air.
"I want to go to the bathroom." There was something in her voice that he couldn't quite place, but in answer to her statement he again opened his book and started his reading.
Maya muttered something about clueless handsome men under her breath, before sashaying her way to the bathroom, with more than half the population of the plane looking her way, excluding that of one Mr. Scott Summers.
"She is so rude." Scott commented at her exit.
"She is so hot." An old man commented just to his right at the same time.
Scott turned as well as the man, both eyeing each other at their respective words.
"Come on! Man you have got to be blind not to see an eye candy like her. By the way, hi, my name is Stan Lee. You must have known me. I am quite popular with the comics I create."
"No." Stan Lee frowned at the blunt reply of the spectacled man, before disregarding him and thinking of a protagonist for his new comic series. 'Perhaps a man with laser emitting eyes? Hmm, now that I have thought about it, it's kinda cool. I have to see more into that.'
It was quite a while before Maya returned, her face was covered with a very thin sheen of make-up and there was new peach color on her pouty lips.
Not that Scott noticed.
He had just checked to see that there was no problem like the previous number of times with her. He had just stood quickly, making way for her so that she does not repeat her previous getting out method.
Scott noticed that after she had returned, her mood had drastically improved from before and she was again looking like the woman who had just entered the airplane. Cheerful, flirty and full of vigor.
Still, she did not try to strike a conversation with him and he sent a silent prayer to whoever was out there for that. Even though her personality and trait was total opposite from his Jean, it still hurt - deep within his chest – to see the face of the love of his life sitting next to him. But how was that possible for a Jean look-a-like to be present? He would have to talk with Professor to go the roots of this matter; once he landed in his birth place that is.
'You still won't break your promise even in death, huh Jean?'
Thankfully, the stewards came with their dinner before she could explode from her unnatural silence.
The meal was quite uneventful as Scott had wished. Though he had wished a lot more things to be uneventful in his journey, everything cannot go according to his plan, he mused.
It was after the meal that Scott felt that something was not right, something was out of place.
Most, if not all the passengers immediately went to their sleep. It was understandable that people usually do not have anything to do in an enclosed place, several thousand feet above the ground. But what was unusual, was their sleeping positions. Some were covered by blankets and with pillows, eyes covered by the black mask – okay that was fine – but many of them were situated in variety of, if not uncomfortable poses. Some of the children were holding tablets, PSPs, some of the corporate peoples with their laptops open and one or two with their head plastered to the keyboard. It was like they were doing something, when the energy was sucked out of them. Like the strings of puppets, cut by the puppet master.
It was unnatural.
That when Scott realized, Mutants. Whenever something out of whack happened, mutants were responsible. Be it a mutant criminal bend set on eradicating humans or a human, bend set on eradicating mutants. In both the situations there was just disaster.
Maya
Scott swiftly turned towards his co-passenger, only to find her in the similar predicament as everyone else.
He gritted his teeth as a sudden dizziness slammed into him. His vision was filled with black spots even as he tried to gain his bearings. His heart was pumping blood and a dull throb started thumping in his head. Everything around him was roaming as he tried to stand up, only to fall back into his cushioned seat.
Somebody's hands grabbed his face from both the sides. They were cool to touch, almost icy. His vision was filled with blue, red and yellow.
Nothing made sense to him anymore as whatever was in that food took hold of him completely, and in his last speck of conscious he remembered of Jean and her fiery hair, which in turn reminded him of his own crimson eyes.
I am a Mutant.
'Don't remove my glasses othe…'
… …
End of Chapter 1
So how do you like it? Review and tell me.
Don't flame me, saying they are not meant to be, how you can possibly even think of this atrocity?! and blah blah blah.
I just want your opinion and suggestions regarding the dialogues, characterization, the background, story-flow and all the technicalities. Whatever you find is wrong, comment on it. I want to improve my writing and my character-knowing (if that's a word) of Scott Summers and I can't do that if you keep your finding's to yourselves.
Writers write to express themselves but they also like it when their works are being appreciated or if they find room for improvement.
So… till next time.
- Sky Kurosaki.