Rating: PG-13 - adult themes/naughty words
Summary: When Mystique is stuck "baby-sitting" John, she makes the most of it by teaching him a lesson. You the like J-B-R? You might like this, then.
Spoilers: *X-Men 2*, naturally.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Stan Lee, Marvel and their many, many well-paid lawyers. I am NOT making any money off this, nor am I trying to infringe on anyone's copyright. Believe that.
Authors' Notes: We can thank Garbage once again for inspiration. :) Shirley really lights my fire. Pun intended. Figured out why the other fics double-spaced - save in .doc, my friends. Save in .doc. Enjoy!
Questions, Comments, Suggestions: Send to donnacsoprano@netscape.net. All flames are read, laughed at then deleted with extreme prejudice.
"And I am glad that you are here now/ And after all these years/ You know you were right/ And I can't/ Focus - so well ..."/
- "Focus", Deep Blue Something
Focus by Net Girl
New York City glittered brightly under the clear night sky. And a warm summer evening it was, too. From the balcony of the penthouse the reformed Brotherhood had recently acquired, the world seemed like a different place. A person could feel removed from society with great ease, and it was helpful for the young man who stood there. The noise of the traffic was far below. The human beings who plagued this metropolis weren't even visible from this height.
Leaning forward on the railing, John clicked the cap of his Zippo open, his thumb grazed over the flint wheel as he debated on whether or not to spark the flame. Yes, from here, he felt like a god. A smile came to his face as he studied the open lighter in his hand. For his part, Magneto had done well for John. He'd offered power and a better life, and the old man had delivered on both counts.
Since he'd become part of this Brotherhood, he enjoyed himself a lot more. Magneto wasn't full of the sanctimonious bullshit that Charles Xavier championed. Nope, Erik Lensherr was about something else entirely.
After igniting his lighter, he passed his hand over the flame, gathering it into his right hand. He stared at the dancing ball of fire for a moment, his thoughts shifting away from his new leader to his old friends. He could almost see them in that flame, both staring back at him with disapproving glares. Looking away from it, he tossed the fireball aside, making it dissipate before it did any damage to the building.
[They're probably still trying to figure out *why* I left,] he thought with a laugh. He shook his head as he mindlessly twirled the lighter between his fingers.
More than likely, Bobby would talk shit about him while Rogue played Devil's Advocate. The very thought made his smile grow wider. He had that effect on them, always did. Even if they never admitted it, they liked it - he brought fun and excitement into their otherwise boring lives. In more ways than one.
Those days when the three of them were alone in the room he'd shared with Bobby, they were days that none of them would soon forget. Memories of that time spent with the two teenagers filled his mind. The last of those images, however, was his final glance back at them before he left the X-Jet. He'd hoped they would've followed his lead. But they didn't. They'd stayed, with the side that was content to be pushed around by the weaker species.
[They shouldn't be with him.] He slammed a fist on the railing then he stood straight. [Why the hell did they stay behind?]
Bobby Drake, he could understand why. He'd been too well bred by his upper-middle class suburban family. How the guy managed to survive that prison without once trying to slash his own wrists, John never could figure out. And if that had been *his* backstabbing little brother ... well, there would be one less place setting at the dinner table, that was for damn sure.
Rogue, on the other hand, she was different. She had a rebellious side that Bobby put on ice shortly after her arrival at the school, which took greater hold once she'd committed herself to him in that laughable relationship. Given the right circumstances, though, John was certain she would've left with him that day. He knew it, even if Miss Marie didn't.
"You spend too much time by yourself," Rogue's voice said from behind him.
John turned suddenly. Behind him, he found the smiling girl standing in the open doorway, with her gloved hands resting on either side of the doorframe. He knew it wasn't Rogue, as much as he wished it were. If there was one thing he missed, she was a part of it. One half, to be exact. But this wasn't her.
"Hmm. Don't like this one?" Rogue asked with a frown. Stepping forward, her form shifted and morphed into that of Bobby Drake. "Maybe this is the one you're missing tonight?"
Mystique enjoyed a game or two of her own when time permitted. And this evening Magneto was occupied with more pressing matters, leaving her to baby-sit their recent acquisition. Whenever he was left alone on previous occasions, John managed to get himself into too much trouble. Usually, something burned down. She would keep him where he belonged this evening.
The hand of Bobby Drake gently pressed itself against John's cheek. Mystique inwardly smiled when she felt the involuntary reaction from the boy. His breathing increased, the pattern of his heartbeat became more rapid. "So ... you do miss me?" she asked, instead of her own voice, it was Bobby's. She closed the space between them, the faux eyes of Bobby searched Johns for a moment. "Yes, you do." The hand left John's cheek, sliding down the front of his shirt, stopping at his mid-section.
"You're ... you're not him, Mystique," John evenly replied, glancing from the hand to the face of 'Bobby'. His eyes narrowed. "So knock your shit off."
She leaned closer, her hand gripped the fabric of his shirt to keep him from backing away. "I sound like him, don't I? Look like him?" The back of her free hand brushed over his chin. "I feel like him, right?" The hand then clamped itself onto the back of John's neck and she sensed no struggle from his end. She came closer. "Why don't you tell me if I taste like him, too?" She grinned.
He shoved her away, wincing just slightly when the nails scratched the back of his neck. "Get away from me." He wasn't about to let her know it, but he was more than tempted to take her up on that offer. Even if his rational mind knew that it wasn't Bobby before him, he couldn't help what he felt.
The grin became more sadistic. She was getting under his skin now. The fun would truly begin. He spent too much of his time lamenting over the loss of the lovers he left behind. If he didn't snap out of it, he would be useless to Magneto and their plans for the new world order. She would force him to get over it. By any means necessary.
Her form shifted back into that of Rogue. She noted the instant change in John's manner upon seeing the female. Stepping towards him, but making no move to touch him, Mystique raised those dark brown eyes that belonged to another until they met John's.
"Maybe he's really not the one you wanted to play with tonight," she said. She laughed a little as the gloveless hand trailed down his right arm. A moment later, she placed both of her hands to each side of his face. "You never had the pleasure of touching her like the other one, did you?" The fingers of one hand fiddled with the top button of his shirt. "You wanted to, though, just as much as he did."
"Stop it," he weakly whispered. That rational part of his mind fought a losing battle with each word, each touch of the hand. He made no move to stop her as she unfastened each button, one right after the other until his bare skin was exposed.
"You don't want that," Mystique quietly replied as she placed her hand on his chest. She felt his heart racing underneath her palm. She smirked as she watched his eyes lazily close as she backed him up against the balcony railing. Her body pressed against his, the fingers of Rogue slowly shifting into those of Bobby. "You don't want that at all."
When he heard 'Bobby''s voice again, his eyes opened. Then he felt the touch of 'Bobby's' lips against his own. His hands raised, originally in a motion to push Mystique away, but the intention altered. Taking the shapeshifter by the back of the neck with both hands, he pressed his mouth harder to hers. He could pretend as easily as she could that she was really Bobby on the balcony with him.
She felt the cold metal of the lighter digging into her flesh as John's grip tightened. He certainly did have a passion for this boy she masqueraded as at the moment. She wanted to shove him off, yet she reminded herself that a lesson needed to be taught. Let him has his fun first. Once the party was over, that was it.
John had to keep telling himself that this wasn't Bobby. Even with his eyes closed, it *felt* like him. He didn't right now, however. This was the closest he'd been to him - him or Rogue - in months. He wondered exactly how far Mystique would allow this charade to go? Maybe he should test the waters and find out.
Mystique saw that John's eyes had closed once again. Her own hands slipped over the teenager's shoulders, her fingers lightly massaging the back of his neck. Smiling, she allowed herself to return to her own form. John noticed the change in the flesh underneath his fingers. When he opened his eyes, Bobby had been replaced by the blue-skinned Mystique. Surprised, he pulled out of the kiss and backpedaled awkwardly away from her.
"Bitch!" he yelled as she began to laugh. "What's your fucking problem?!" He hastily rebuttoned his shirt, feeling sick at what he'd allowed himself to get tricked into by her. His lighter tumbled from his hand and as he leaned over to grab it, Mystique seized him by his hair, then pulled him up.
"I don't have the problem, Pyro," she coldly replied. Her grip on his hair tightened, making him cry out in pain. "You are distracted by thoughts of these friends you left behind." Her yellow eyes flashed briefly. "It endangers the safety of us all if your mind isn't where it's supposed to be. Do you understand?"
"You're pulling my goddamn hair out!" he yelled in reply, one hand clamping onto her wrist.
"If that's what it takes to make you focus ... " She jerked his head to the left before letting go of him. "Then that's what I'll do." Her arms folded across her chest as he placed a hand to his head where she'd grabbed him. "Because the alternative, Pyro, is something that I'm sure you won't want."
John glared at the retreating blue figure. Leaning over, he snatched up his lighter then continued to mutter under his breath. At first, the anger was directed at her, but as he considered her words, it shifted away from Mystique and to Rogue and Bobby. *They* held him back. *They* prevented him from reaching his full potential as a member of this Brotherhood. *They* still kept him in check even when he wasn't at the school.
His hand dropped to his side while the other clutched his Zippo tightly. He wouldn't allow it. Not any longer. He decided then and there that if he wanted to succeed in the real world, he would have to put aside the past. And focus on the future.
Summary: When Mystique is stuck "baby-sitting" John, she makes the most of it by teaching him a lesson. You the like J-B-R? You might like this, then.
Spoilers: *X-Men 2*, naturally.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Stan Lee, Marvel and their many, many well-paid lawyers. I am NOT making any money off this, nor am I trying to infringe on anyone's copyright. Believe that.
Authors' Notes: We can thank Garbage once again for inspiration. :) Shirley really lights my fire. Pun intended. Figured out why the other fics double-spaced - save in .doc, my friends. Save in .doc. Enjoy!
Questions, Comments, Suggestions: Send to donnacsoprano@netscape.net. All flames are read, laughed at then deleted with extreme prejudice.
"And I am glad that you are here now/ And after all these years/ You know you were right/ And I can't/ Focus - so well ..."/
- "Focus", Deep Blue Something
Focus by Net Girl
New York City glittered brightly under the clear night sky. And a warm summer evening it was, too. From the balcony of the penthouse the reformed Brotherhood had recently acquired, the world seemed like a different place. A person could feel removed from society with great ease, and it was helpful for the young man who stood there. The noise of the traffic was far below. The human beings who plagued this metropolis weren't even visible from this height.
Leaning forward on the railing, John clicked the cap of his Zippo open, his thumb grazed over the flint wheel as he debated on whether or not to spark the flame. Yes, from here, he felt like a god. A smile came to his face as he studied the open lighter in his hand. For his part, Magneto had done well for John. He'd offered power and a better life, and the old man had delivered on both counts.
Since he'd become part of this Brotherhood, he enjoyed himself a lot more. Magneto wasn't full of the sanctimonious bullshit that Charles Xavier championed. Nope, Erik Lensherr was about something else entirely.
After igniting his lighter, he passed his hand over the flame, gathering it into his right hand. He stared at the dancing ball of fire for a moment, his thoughts shifting away from his new leader to his old friends. He could almost see them in that flame, both staring back at him with disapproving glares. Looking away from it, he tossed the fireball aside, making it dissipate before it did any damage to the building.
[They're probably still trying to figure out *why* I left,] he thought with a laugh. He shook his head as he mindlessly twirled the lighter between his fingers.
More than likely, Bobby would talk shit about him while Rogue played Devil's Advocate. The very thought made his smile grow wider. He had that effect on them, always did. Even if they never admitted it, they liked it - he brought fun and excitement into their otherwise boring lives. In more ways than one.
Those days when the three of them were alone in the room he'd shared with Bobby, they were days that none of them would soon forget. Memories of that time spent with the two teenagers filled his mind. The last of those images, however, was his final glance back at them before he left the X-Jet. He'd hoped they would've followed his lead. But they didn't. They'd stayed, with the side that was content to be pushed around by the weaker species.
[They shouldn't be with him.] He slammed a fist on the railing then he stood straight. [Why the hell did they stay behind?]
Bobby Drake, he could understand why. He'd been too well bred by his upper-middle class suburban family. How the guy managed to survive that prison without once trying to slash his own wrists, John never could figure out. And if that had been *his* backstabbing little brother ... well, there would be one less place setting at the dinner table, that was for damn sure.
Rogue, on the other hand, she was different. She had a rebellious side that Bobby put on ice shortly after her arrival at the school, which took greater hold once she'd committed herself to him in that laughable relationship. Given the right circumstances, though, John was certain she would've left with him that day. He knew it, even if Miss Marie didn't.
"You spend too much time by yourself," Rogue's voice said from behind him.
John turned suddenly. Behind him, he found the smiling girl standing in the open doorway, with her gloved hands resting on either side of the doorframe. He knew it wasn't Rogue, as much as he wished it were. If there was one thing he missed, she was a part of it. One half, to be exact. But this wasn't her.
"Hmm. Don't like this one?" Rogue asked with a frown. Stepping forward, her form shifted and morphed into that of Bobby Drake. "Maybe this is the one you're missing tonight?"
Mystique enjoyed a game or two of her own when time permitted. And this evening Magneto was occupied with more pressing matters, leaving her to baby-sit their recent acquisition. Whenever he was left alone on previous occasions, John managed to get himself into too much trouble. Usually, something burned down. She would keep him where he belonged this evening.
The hand of Bobby Drake gently pressed itself against John's cheek. Mystique inwardly smiled when she felt the involuntary reaction from the boy. His breathing increased, the pattern of his heartbeat became more rapid. "So ... you do miss me?" she asked, instead of her own voice, it was Bobby's. She closed the space between them, the faux eyes of Bobby searched Johns for a moment. "Yes, you do." The hand left John's cheek, sliding down the front of his shirt, stopping at his mid-section.
"You're ... you're not him, Mystique," John evenly replied, glancing from the hand to the face of 'Bobby'. His eyes narrowed. "So knock your shit off."
She leaned closer, her hand gripped the fabric of his shirt to keep him from backing away. "I sound like him, don't I? Look like him?" The back of her free hand brushed over his chin. "I feel like him, right?" The hand then clamped itself onto the back of John's neck and she sensed no struggle from his end. She came closer. "Why don't you tell me if I taste like him, too?" She grinned.
He shoved her away, wincing just slightly when the nails scratched the back of his neck. "Get away from me." He wasn't about to let her know it, but he was more than tempted to take her up on that offer. Even if his rational mind knew that it wasn't Bobby before him, he couldn't help what he felt.
The grin became more sadistic. She was getting under his skin now. The fun would truly begin. He spent too much of his time lamenting over the loss of the lovers he left behind. If he didn't snap out of it, he would be useless to Magneto and their plans for the new world order. She would force him to get over it. By any means necessary.
Her form shifted back into that of Rogue. She noted the instant change in John's manner upon seeing the female. Stepping towards him, but making no move to touch him, Mystique raised those dark brown eyes that belonged to another until they met John's.
"Maybe he's really not the one you wanted to play with tonight," she said. She laughed a little as the gloveless hand trailed down his right arm. A moment later, she placed both of her hands to each side of his face. "You never had the pleasure of touching her like the other one, did you?" The fingers of one hand fiddled with the top button of his shirt. "You wanted to, though, just as much as he did."
"Stop it," he weakly whispered. That rational part of his mind fought a losing battle with each word, each touch of the hand. He made no move to stop her as she unfastened each button, one right after the other until his bare skin was exposed.
"You don't want that," Mystique quietly replied as she placed her hand on his chest. She felt his heart racing underneath her palm. She smirked as she watched his eyes lazily close as she backed him up against the balcony railing. Her body pressed against his, the fingers of Rogue slowly shifting into those of Bobby. "You don't want that at all."
When he heard 'Bobby''s voice again, his eyes opened. Then he felt the touch of 'Bobby's' lips against his own. His hands raised, originally in a motion to push Mystique away, but the intention altered. Taking the shapeshifter by the back of the neck with both hands, he pressed his mouth harder to hers. He could pretend as easily as she could that she was really Bobby on the balcony with him.
She felt the cold metal of the lighter digging into her flesh as John's grip tightened. He certainly did have a passion for this boy she masqueraded as at the moment. She wanted to shove him off, yet she reminded herself that a lesson needed to be taught. Let him has his fun first. Once the party was over, that was it.
John had to keep telling himself that this wasn't Bobby. Even with his eyes closed, it *felt* like him. He didn't right now, however. This was the closest he'd been to him - him or Rogue - in months. He wondered exactly how far Mystique would allow this charade to go? Maybe he should test the waters and find out.
Mystique saw that John's eyes had closed once again. Her own hands slipped over the teenager's shoulders, her fingers lightly massaging the back of his neck. Smiling, she allowed herself to return to her own form. John noticed the change in the flesh underneath his fingers. When he opened his eyes, Bobby had been replaced by the blue-skinned Mystique. Surprised, he pulled out of the kiss and backpedaled awkwardly away from her.
"Bitch!" he yelled as she began to laugh. "What's your fucking problem?!" He hastily rebuttoned his shirt, feeling sick at what he'd allowed himself to get tricked into by her. His lighter tumbled from his hand and as he leaned over to grab it, Mystique seized him by his hair, then pulled him up.
"I don't have the problem, Pyro," she coldly replied. Her grip on his hair tightened, making him cry out in pain. "You are distracted by thoughts of these friends you left behind." Her yellow eyes flashed briefly. "It endangers the safety of us all if your mind isn't where it's supposed to be. Do you understand?"
"You're pulling my goddamn hair out!" he yelled in reply, one hand clamping onto her wrist.
"If that's what it takes to make you focus ... " She jerked his head to the left before letting go of him. "Then that's what I'll do." Her arms folded across her chest as he placed a hand to his head where she'd grabbed him. "Because the alternative, Pyro, is something that I'm sure you won't want."
John glared at the retreating blue figure. Leaning over, he snatched up his lighter then continued to mutter under his breath. At first, the anger was directed at her, but as he considered her words, it shifted away from Mystique and to Rogue and Bobby. *They* held him back. *They* prevented him from reaching his full potential as a member of this Brotherhood. *They* still kept him in check even when he wasn't at the school.
His hand dropped to his side while the other clutched his Zippo tightly. He wouldn't allow it. Not any longer. He decided then and there that if he wanted to succeed in the real world, he would have to put aside the past. And focus on the future.
