Disclaimer!!
I do not own the X-Men. That would be slavery and slavery is wrong. Besides, Mojo already tried that and look how things turned out for him. Also this fic was created for recreational purposes only and should under no circumstances be taken seriously. The FDA would also like me to caution readers that prolonged exposure to this work of fiction may result in the contracting of wagner-itis, a disease which causes the uncontrollable urge to hug, squeeze and otherwise glomp all things blue and fuzzy. Do not attempt to drive or operate heavy machinery after reading this fic. Vo Do De Oh Do and Scoddy Woddy Do Da Day. Thank you.
Author's Note: before I say anything else, I want to thank you guys for your reviews. (You know who you are) I'm glad you found the original interesting enough to want more. Unfortunately I ran out of steam with that version. I can't really explain it, but it just didn't feel right, so here's the new, improved version. Hopefully this one wont disappoint. Again, thanks for reading!
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
The two men could not have been more different. One was tall, broad shouldered and statuesque with a chiseled, square jawed face. His dark brown hair was combed neatly and parted to the side, his face clean shaven. He was clad in a crisp suit and tie and wore proudly on one arm the band that proclaimed him a high ranking member of the Friends of Humanity. The other man was short and squat with spindly limbs and a belly that spilled over his worn leather belt, his pale skin creased and worn like paper that had been crumpled up and forgotten. It gave him the look of an old spider. What was left of his hair was, like his scraggly beard, lank and slate grey. His nondescript clothes were grimy and worn and his smell was less than sweet. He leaned heavily on a plain wooden walking stick as he looked up at the man from the F.o.H, his colorless eyes surprisingly shrewd and glacially cold.
They stood facing each other in the midst of an old circus. All around them people were busy about the happy labor of pleasure despite the dilapidated condition of the attractions and the woebegone looks of the employees. Perhaps that was part of it's scant mystique; the mingling of cobwebs and the haunting siren song of the calliope, the smell of dust. It certainly drew a very singular crowd, the freak show especially. Still, that was not enough. The circus was on it's last legs.
"Have we a deal then?" The tall man asked, crossing his arms imperiously over his chest. The shorter of the two cocked his head to the side and squinted up at him with one eye a moment before responding.
"Yeah. You got yourself a deal." He said, holding out one gnarled hand and flashing a smile that revealed what was left of his mostly rotten teeth. They shook hands, suddenly laughing, oblivious to the stares cast their way by the faceless strangers all around them.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Kurt Wagner paused in the shadow of an old theater, panting slightly, clinging to the wall as easily as a spider, nearly invisible in the shadows. On the dimly lit street beyond he could see a crowd of angry young men prowling past. Kurt shook his head sadly, backing deeper into the shadows between the dilapidated old theater and the Italian café next door. Tearing his incandescent yellow gaze from the mob he began to fiddle with what appeared to be a sport watch on his blue furred wrist. Of course his image inducer would decide to go on the fritz in the middle of a crowded ice cream parlor, and of course it would happen during a time that was proving to be difficult indeed for mutants.
Xavier's decision to have his X-Men go public had been met with a wave of anger and hatred like none Kurt had seen before. Admittedly they all knew things would get very much worse before they got better, but it was still disconcerting. The friends of humanity had resurfaced, their ranks swelling thanks in large to the work of Purity and the anti-mutant propaganda on their website. Even the registration act and the sentinel programs were being revived. In all it was not a good time to be a mutant.
With a disgusted sigh he gave up on his image inducer. It seemed all there was to do was get back to the institute and have Beast take a look at it. Perhaps it was time to ask for a new model. His long, barbed tail lashing in agitation, he peered out onto the street once more. It seemed the mob had bypassed his hiding place, the streets now silent. Darkness was descending swiftly, broken only by the amber light of streetlamps as it glimmered on the damp pavement. Overhead a kettledrum beat of thunder rumbled and lightning briefly illuminated angry purple clouds. Moving with the skill and ease of a practiced aerialist, Kurt clambered up the side of the theater and paused, perched on the corner of it's roof like a living gargoyle. He could hear several raised voices and more rapid footfalls. He tensed, ready to jaunt in case his pursuers had returned.
That was not the case, however. A young woman was running from a group of four or five broad shouldered men who were wolf whistling and laughing raucously as they made attempts to subdue her. Even as he watched, the girl, a small slip of as thing with long dark hair tied into a ponytail, slipped in a puddle of rainwater and fell face-first onto the concrete, her glasses skidding away a few feet. She groped madly for them on her hands and knees as the men formed a loose circle around her, still laughing as if they were playing the greatest game in creation. The sight made Kurt's blood boil. He knew what it was like to be hunted, to be the victim. He knew better than many. He had vowed to never be a victim again, to protect those who could not protect themselves. That was why he had joined the X-Men and that was why, without a second thought, he teleported directly into the center of the young men's crude circle.
They fell back a few steps, shock and uncertainty registering one each of their faces. Kurt smiled grimly to himself, the expression seeming to put even more fear into the young woman's pursuers. He didn't give them time to recover themselves. Instead he wrapped his lean arms around the frightened girl before she could so much as scream, much less put her horn rimmed glasses back on.
"Auf wiedersehen." he called cheerfully before disappearing in a puff of sulfuric smoke and the faint *bamf* of imploding air.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0