Gifts
"So are you going to buy me a Christmas present?"
Rogue looked up from her book, an expression of confusion etched on her face. "What?"
Pyro was sitting cross-legged on the floor, his back to the sofa, video controller lying in his lap amidst the twisted cords. He'd had a wireless one but whenever Magneto came in the room it messed it up somehow. Not that Pyro'd ever mention that, of course, to anyone but her and Remy.
Rogue had asked him once how he could sit on the floor like that, because it was so cold. He'd shrugged and told her he had a high body temperature as a result of his mutation.
"You heard me. Christmas. The holiday when we all go broke buying meaningless gifts for each other?"
"I'm familiar with the concept," she snapped at him, rolling her eyes. "I didn't think we'd exactly celebrate it, though."
"Why not?" Pyro was staring at her intently. "You don't like anyone here enough to get them a present, that it?"
"Shut up," she said, throwing a pillow at him, smiling despite herself. "What should I get? Something from the mainland? I'm sure Remy'd love another case of Red Stripe and you—"
"Could always order something," Pyro said cheerfully, waving his video game controller at her.
"Yeah, and send it to where? 'Brotherhood of Mutants, Fortress, Middle of the Sea?'" She laughed.
He threw the pillow back at her. "I got this online. Had it sent to Mystique's place."
She hadn't known Mystique had a place. "We ain't exactly religious around here," she reminded him drolly. "You think Magneto has a stocking with our names on them?"
Pyro shrugged. "I was gonna get you one," he said petulantly.
"Right. Only if I'd've said yes," she said, amused.
He went back to his video game and ignored her, but she saw the smile on his face regardless.
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"Should I buy Pyro a present?"
Erik blinked and looked down at Rogue, who was curled on top of him like a kitten, her head on his chest while he read. "What?"
"Pyro. The guy with the fire?"
He scowled and tugged her hair none-too-gently. "Manners," he reprimanded her. "I'm aware who St. John is."
"Well, should I buy him a present?" She stared up at him anxiously.
"Why on earth would you buy him a present?" There were times she confused him utterly, which he suspected was because she was young, but then it could just be because she was a woman.
"For Christmas," she said in the sort of patient tone one uses with a toddler.
"Oh. Do you wish to buy him a present?" He decided to ignore that tone in her voice for the moment.
She shrugged. "Dunno. Can I buy you one?"
He tugged her hair again. "I'm Jewish," he reminded her, trying not to smile as she scowled at him.
She expelled a breath at that. "I know that. It's just that I don't really think we're celebratin' the religious aspect of it, are we? I mean, we don't exactly go for peace on Earth and goodwill toward men, now, do we?" She grinned a bit fiercely at the last.
Despite himself, he snorted. "No, I'd say we didn't. So explain to me why you wish to buy him a present?"
"Because! What if he buys me one?" She raised up and looked at him, face concerned. "I'd be horrified, Erik."
"Yes, I imagine how horrifying that would be," he said seriously, and she thwacked him lightly with the back of her hand. He caught it up and squeezed hard. "If you continue in this fashion, you'll be sleeping on the floor, Marie."
She lowered her head, going limp in his arms and muttering, "Sorry," which he highly doubted she was.
"I saw something in the store I could buy you for Christmas," she said, the words mumbled against his chest.
"Oh?"
"A chess set." She peeked up at him, her eyes sparkling.
"I have one," he reminded her. "You've lost to me often."
"I ain't the evil genius," she tossed back at him.
"You are most certainly not. An evil genius has much better grammar." He smirked at her and went back to his book.
"The chess set was magnetic," she told him, and giggled.
"Was it? That'd be nice. I could beat you without literally lifting a finger." He laughed.
Rogue muttered that sounded like "arrogant man," and then fell asleep, but she was smiling.
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"So." Pyro leaned against the counter, playing with the pull tab on his coke and looking thoughtfully at Remy. "You gonna get Mystique a Christmas present?"
"Why would I do that?" Remy's gaze was disconcerting; red-on-black, Pyro had never quite gotten used to it. He had a sing-songy type voice, Remy, that made Pyro think the other mutant should be in a carnival. He'd never shared that, because Remy would hit him with that damned stick. Or the exploding cards. Or, just hit him.
"You know," he said, waving his hand in an attempt at a manly fashion. Pyro often found it rather irritating he was the only one around the place not getting any.
"No, mon frere. Tell Remy why," the Cajun drawled, drinking something out of a small red-striped brown bottle.
"Rogue said she was going to get you more Red Stripe for Christmas," Pyro blurted suddenly, trying to deflect his earlier question.
"What?" Remy muttered something and tossed his empty Red Stripe in the trashcan. "Too bad it's October. We're all out." He gave Pyro a searching look. "You stealin' my beer, mon frere?"
Pyro rolled his eyes. "Nah. Prolly Rogue." He fixed his eyes somewhere above Remy's tall frame, because Pyro sucked at lying when people looked right at him. He'd have to work on that.
Remy snorted. "If that's true, then ma soeur will be getting' a card for Christmas from Remy and nothin' else." He grinned and Pyro laughed, but he hoped Remy knew he was kidding about Rogue and the beer.
He'd have to get rid of those beer bottles in his room, just in case he decided maybe to check.
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"Ma chere, you want a Christmas present from me?"
Mystique looked at him, confused, trying to figure out what he was talking about Christmas in October for—and why the hell he was even talking, considering they were training and she wasn't exactly chatty to begin with.
She circled him warily, eyes on that damned stick that had knocked her over one too many times, and those obnoxious playing cards of his. Remy LaBeau was a dangerous son-of-a-bitch.
Her lips curved into a cat's smile before she could stop it. "Only one thing I want from you, Gambit, and I don't have to wait for Christmas, do I?"
Mystique didn't know if she slept with Remy because she liked to spar him, or if she liked to spar him because she slept with him. Either way, it didn't much matter, because with her, they were practically the same thing. She launched herself into a graceful flip as he tossed one of those flaming cards at her.
She felt the heat of the explosion burn the edges of her scales on her back, and smiled in delight.
"No, indeed, ma chere. Good thing for you, Remy comes more than once a year." He chuckled, pleased with his joke.
"Why's that good for me? I come more than once a night," she said, knocking him easily to the floor with a leg-sweep, moving to pin him with a graceful ease.
He grinned up at her, unabashed. That's why she liked Remy. He liked a little pain, and he was just fine with a woman being on top.
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Mystique blinked in surprise as she headed up to the third floor apartment she kept in Chicago, a normal, boring sort of place with hanging vertical blinds and beige carpet.
The only extraordinary thing about it was the small stack of UPS packages stacked neatly on the front door, all with her address and the name "Darkholme" printed very neatly on the packing slips. "Fortress in the sea?" She was going to have to have a talk with Remy about what he thought their address was. Some terrorist he was. He might as well print "Brotherhood of Mutants" on the damned thing.
Scowling, she opened the door and kicked the packages inside, throwing her keys on the counter and brushing the snow off her coat as she hung it up. She changed from the nondescript appearance she'd adopted for her travels back into her normal self, and started laughing as she examined all the boxes.
A few hours later, warm after a shower and curled on the sofa with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, she called Erik.
"I have a small mountain of packages sitting in my living room," she said, amused. "You want me to bring a Christmas tree back and some mistletoe?" She giggled, sounding remarkably like a little girl.
She flipped through the channels, stopping at one of those sappy Christmas movies. No one would ever know she'd watched it, right? Wait, she would. Mystique changed it to an action movie briefly, but the explosions made her homesick, so she turned it to the news.
That should keep her entertained. Humanity never failed to amuse her.
"Yeah. No, I'll be home tomorrow. Evening, probably." Mystique sipped at her hot tea. "Got a stop to make first."
She supposed she best buy Remy something, since one of those packages was probably for her. And the rest of them, damn it all. At least she knew what to buy for Rogue. It was nice to have another woman around on occasion.
"What do you mean, can I stay another night? Have you seen the weather report?" She hid her toes, which were cold, beneath the sofa cushions. Scowling, she looked out the window at the snow reflected in the light of the street lamp. "Yeah, they do overnight on a Saturday. Gonna cost you a lot of money." She tried not to laugh as she hung up the phone.
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Erik walked into the study, shaking his head. Rogue was playing some video game with Pyro that caused her shriek a lot and hit him with a gloved fist, though she appeared to have won.
He was amused to see Pyro wince and manfully try to hide it. "Stop using that cheat code, Rogue, and beat me fair if you can."
"Why? I ain't gonna play fair if I can win," she told him, and Erik laughed.
I appear to be a bad influence on her.
They both saw him there and stopped, Rogue with that usual look of fear and fascination on her face as she stared at him. It often made him want to punish her and then do something else to ensure she kept that look, as she wore it rather well.
"I merely need to use the computer," he told them, waving his hand. "Carry on."
They exchanged a look at that, and he crossed his arms and arched a brow. "You think I'm too inept to use the internet?"
"No," Rogue said, punching buttons in a rapid succession that made it obvious she had no idea what she was really doing. Still, her animated character—some creature with an obnoxiously huge chest and a very short skirt—seemed to be giving Pyro's a sound thrashing.
"Last time you used the computer somethin' happened and you accidentally erased the hard drive. Ain't supposed to put magnets next to it." She twisted her wrist violently, as if somehow that would make the person on the screen act in a similar fashion.
Erik stared at the back of her head for a moment, unsure if he should punish her for such impertinence or laugh. "Well then. I shall have to behave myself, won't I?"
"Yup," Rogue said cheerfully, and Erik wondered if he might wrap a scarf around her mouth later, and if that would encourage her not to speak to him in such a disrespectful tone. The idea had merit.
Smiling somewhat darkly, he sat down and tried to ignore her shouting things at Pyro as he finally found a way to beat her. Perhaps he'd use some soap, too. The thought made him smile.
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If any of them were surprised about the presents at Christmas, no one said anything.
It was kind of strange, though, because no one thought of buying wrapping paper or ribbons, or at least, didn't bother looking for any. They didn't have any decorations, either, as trips to the mainland were limited after their recent activity and an increase in the rewards they all had on their heads.
So they used newspaper instead.
Remy was a bit more creative and wrapped everyone else's gifts with their wanted pictures from the most recent spread in the paper.
Mystique's made her look like a model, all limber and glowing yellow eyes, captured with a lovely fireball ("Hey! That's mine!" Pyro had exclaimed, pleased) illuminating her dark blue skin.
Rogue thought she looked like a kid on the side of milk carton, which made Erik laugh when she said so. He didn't even look at his, merely tossed it to the floor and thanked Remy with perfect aplomb for his gift.
Pyro tacked his up on the wall in his room.
Later, on her way to bed, Rogue stuck her head in his room. "So. Merry Christmas. This work out like you wanted?"
She saw the briefest flash of resentment on his face, quickly chased by embarrassment that she'd nailed it so easily. You forget I touched you in Boston, St. John. I know what it is you really wanted for Christmas, why you left Xavier's.
"Sure. Got a new video game, didn't I? Tomorrow, after practice, I'll kick your ass." He tossed her his usual smile.
"I always kick your ass until you figure out the buttons," she said with a grin, and it didn't matter that they were the bad guys, because right then, they weren't. They were just family, and it was Christmas.
"Then you stop playing," he said, arms crossed over his chest.
"That's cause it's when I stop winnin'," she said, and he laughed.
She went to the bedroom she shared with Erik, pausing as she saw there was a nice wrapped present on the bed with a shiny red bow. She looked up at Erik, brow raised. "You already got me a present," she told him, gesturing towards the stack of books he'd bought her.
"I'm aware of that," he said calmly, waving his hand at the box. "Go on."
She opened the box and blushed as she saw what was in it. "Sometimes you scare me, Erik," she told him in absolute seriousness.
He smiled at her. "Good. Merry Christmas."