"A Game of Chess" Rated: G Summary: Why should an Australian mutant not play chess with Magneto? The reason may not be as obvious as you think. Read and see.
"A Game of Chess"
"Your move Aussie," Erik stated for the third time, the smug look still on his face. St. John Allerdyce merely nodded and contemplated the chess board.
"I'm in a fix governor," he moaned. His white knight was about to be captured by Erik's Queen. The real problem however was much more complex. 'Always let 'im win, the bloke says,' the mutant codenamed Pyro groused mentally. 'Reckon how Gambit. The mate plays so bad how can he not lose! Move my queen and he loses. Same for my rook and bishop. Where's a nice friendly attack from the ol' x-men?' However, no alarms sounded in the floating asteroid fortress, no calls from the UN resisting demands, no explosions, no buzzers, nothing but the rapid beating of his heart. Reluctantly, he moved a pawn forward and pretended to look glum as the other mutant triumphantly took his knight chess piece with a grand flourish of his hand.
"That's three!" Erik pointed at the captured figures. Four moves later, the board was nearly a trap waiting to be sprung. One which Pyro desperately wanted to avoid springing on the man better known as Magneto.
Then he saw the solution. 'Move that there…his king is totally safe from any attack…then he moves his queen…and I lose that pawn ...and…then nobody can…and yes!' Barely containing a smile, he moved his rook center forward. "You're in check…mate." he said. Erik Lehnsherr looked down and his expression barely registered. Slowly, he raised his head, eyes narrowing. Frantically, the thin redhead rechecked the board, waiting for his boss to make the obvious move and the game to end in a winless tie. 'He's safe so what is he waiting for?'
Instead, he glared then swept the entire chess board with one metal gloved hand. "You dare beat me?! The Master of Magnetism…in my own fortress!" Snapping his hand upward, the metal table spiked towards the ceiling and through the chess board as John's chair coiled serpentine around him. "Enough!" and the man stomped out the sliding doors, his cape fluttering in the magnetic waves of his temper.
"Help." John's muffled plea was barely audible around the metal coiled on his face. A minute later two familiar figures walked in. The tall dark haired Russian merely shook his head and began uncoiling the metal as best he could.
The other snickered while shuffling a deck of cards. Glancing up at the impaled game board, his trench coat snapped as he spun feather light on his heels. "Told ya to let 'im win."
"I tried," he replied as his head was finally freed. "I just don't know what happened mate."
