Part the Second: Fun Fun Snow

"All right! It's snowed again! Who's up for a no-powers snow fight?"
There was no answer, of course. Very few people were up at dawn. The
few that were, weren't talking to anyone until they'd had their coffee.
"Might as well get started, then," Kurt said to no-one in particular,
and dived out into the white mass. Literally.

Later...
Kurt grinned. He'd been digging tunnels for quite a while. It was
about time someone showed up. He fired the first volley, only to have
his target phase to avoid getting hit.
"Hey! Using your powers is *cheating*!"
He was answered by a speeding snowball, which he ducked. He scurried
to another manhole and fired another round. This time, he hit.
"So what was that, you blue fuzzy cheater?"
"I had lots of perparation time!" He scurried to another location to
shout, "I also made snowballs for everyone else. Only you have to find
the stashes first."
One of his patented slushballs zinged past his ear.
"You also have to learn how to throw!"
"You little--! I'm'a whup yo' ass!"
Too late, he was already somewhere else. Lining up another victim. He
got a slushball right on Jean's neckline.
Pretty soon, it was the entire institute versus the elf. He always
liked those sorts of odds. A true swashbuckler never cared about the
number of his enemy, only that they were there, and he had the wits and
power to fight them.

Scott had set up hasty snow fortifications with a little 'cheating'
from Bobby, but they were still getting plastered. Kurt, wherever he
was, was apparently able to tell when someone activated their power on
purpose, and would subsequently pop up out of nowhere and pummel the
offender with slushballs.
"Are we *sure* he isn't teleporting?" Evan asked for the umpteenth
time.
"Elf's playing by his own rules," Logan, immune to the cold, was lying
on his stomach and staring fixedly at the snow. "I'd smell him 'porting
in a cold second in this weather."
"I'm gonna skin him alive," said a distant voice. Ray. He was still
using his powers, but they were about as effective as nailing gellatin
to the ceiling. "You hear me? I'm gonna skin you alive for a *rug*,
goddamnit!"
{Thwap!} He was hit, yet again, in the back of his neck.
"Then I'll chop up your mangy corpse into a million pieces!"
{Thwap! Thwap, thwap, thwap!}
"Then I'm gonna stomp on all the bits!"
{Thwap, thwappitty, thwap, thwap! Thwap! Thwap!}
Kitty, despite herself, giggled. "Shave and a haircut? Fuzzy's been
like, watching too many 'toons..."
"Ray!" Scott called out. "Don't use your powers! It only makes it
worse!"
"Screw you, Summers. I wanna toast this freakboy!"
{Thwap!}
"God damnit!"
Amara sighed. "This is going to go on all *day*... Why don't I just
*melt* the snow and ruin the peasant's game?"
"You tried that, remember?" said one of the many Jamies. "He had
iceballs ready for you the second you fired up."
Amara pouted. "They were slushballs by the time they *hit*. Brrrr...
Stupid peasant."
"Salutations!" Chirped Hank McCoy as he knuckled out onto the snow.
{Thwap!}
"What the--?" He turned to face his assailant, only to have another
slushball {thwap!} into the back of his head.
"Hank! Down!" Ordered Logan. "That's the Elf's way of inviting you to
'play'."
"Oh, *ho*..." Hank grinned. "That must be why young mister Crisp is
swearing and shooting at trees."
"That's it," said Jean. "I don't care if I get hit for it, I'm
knocking Ray out before he hurts someone."
"Even if it's Kurt?" asked Rahne.
Glare. "Even if it *is* Kurt."
"Damn."
{Thwap!}
"I'M GONNA BREAK EVERY BONE IN YOUR MISSHAPEN BODY YOU STUPID FRE--
(unk)." Thud.
A slushball zinged right past Jean's nose. That wasn't bad aim. That
was a warning shot.
"We," announced Rogue, "are going to need a strategy."
"I vote we tie Ray to a tree," said Roberto. "He's gonna be *pissed*
when he wakes up."
"Seconded," said Kitty. "All in favour?"
All the Jamies said, "Aye."
Scott did a double take. There had to be at least forty of them.
"*Geez*... How many times were you *hit*?"
"Uuuuummmmm..."
{Thwap!}
Logan started to swear. He'd been hit right between the eyes.
"We are *not*," announced Scott, "tying Ray to a tree. We all know
what happened the last time."
"It wouldn't have if we picked a bigger tree," said Sam. "Or maybe one
of them boulders."
"*No*. We just need a plan."
"Yeah. Like, Kurt has to have one. I mean he's like, popping up all
over the place and we like, never see him running."
Hank, meanwhile, had reached the fort. He had Ray draped over one
shoulder. "Has it occurred to anyone that we're currently above four
feet of snow?"
"And *collecting* half a foot from the fuzzball," growled Logan. "So?"
"When he runs on all fours, our teutonic elf measures a mere foot and
a half."
"You mean - he's gone *underground*?" said Scott.
"Yes!" shouted Kurt from somewhere out in the white expanse. "They
finally *get* it!"
*Then* there was a shower of snowballs. He got everyone, including all
the Jamies. Again.
"I'm--" {Snikt} "--going to *kill* someone..."
{Thwap, thwap, thwap!}
"No po-wers!" Kurt sang.
"I vote we tie Wolverine to the same tree. Or rock," said Rogue.
"Seconded," said Rahne.
"Aye," said about seventy Jamies.
"We're *NOT* tying *anyone* to *anything*!" yelled Scott, who stood to
emphasise his point.
{Thwap!} A slushball hit him right between the eyes.
"I mean, we have to teach someone a *lesson* first."

It was quiet. *Too* quiet. The kind of quiet that had a nefarious plot
running behind it.
_About *time*,_ thought Kurt, _I was starting to get bored firing at
stationary targets._
He trotted through his tunnels, eyes closed and night senses open,
searching for his teammates. Ah. There were two of them. Ray and one of
the Jamies. Kurt readied a powderball for Jamie. There were more than
enough of him around, right now. He'd probably get into trouble if he
reached more than a hundred of him.
He sprang upwards, arms ready to fling snowballs, and lunged facefirst
into a wall of water.
He dropped his snowballs and ducked back into the tunnels, gallopping
away. Hoses weren't cheating. Technically. They were using their wits
instead of their powers at long last.
Had to keep moving. It was his only chance of not catching a cold now
that he was drenched to his skin.

"BWA-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! DROWN, YOU STINKIN' RUG! DROWN!"
"Ray?"
"You're going down, blue-butt! You hear me! Down in a screaming heap!"
"*Ray*..."
"We're gonna *WIN*, damn you! MWA-HAHAHAHAHA!"
"*RAY*!"
"...huh?"
"Calm down will you? Those tunnels will take hours to fill."
"Aw *shit*..."
"At least you made him miserable. And with luck, we've got a sheet of
ice in a few of them."

Ten Jamies were staking out one of Kurt's manholes, a slushball by
each hand. By sheer luck, the blue elf popped up.
"Fire!"
{Thwappitty, thwappity, thwappity, thwappity, thwappity, thwap!}
Even *with* their rotten aim, they hit him more than a few times.
Unfortunately, they also hit each other.
There were now fifteen of them.
"Damn," they said.

_Damn it. The swashbucklers always *win*. We have debonair charm and
style on our side..._ Though it *was* hard to be debonair when one's
sodden underwear was threatening to creep into places where it shouldn't
aught to go.
"AUGH!" There was ice underfoot. Even his legendary grip couldn't keep
purchase on the slick surface. He skidded all the way down to his
iceball factory - aka the hole in the lake ice where he dipped
slushballs to make them Magma-proof iceballs.
There was no way to stop.
{Splash!}
Kurt scrambled out, digging an impromptu access way up to the surface.
He did *not* need a second bath and - judging by the complete absence of
hose prints nearby, Bobby had been cheating.
"There he is! Get him!"
Kurt lurched into a gallop as the snowballs started flying. No time
for finesse. Just duck, dodge, dive and pray like mad that he could
reach the next-nearest manhole in time.
Large blue hands seized him in mid-jink.
"Gotcha!"
Kurt managed a nervous grin as the X-men approached. "Heh. I guess
that's game, right? Since I'm already soaked, you can't do that much
more to me, ja? Friends? Uh... Ray? Vas ist you doing with that rope?
Ray? You're not still sore about the slushballs are you? Ray?"

"...nonogetawayfrommeAAAAUUUUGGGHHH!"
Storm had to smirk at the blood-curdling scream of someone having snow
shoved down the neck of their clothes. Sounded like the games were over,
for this morning. She'd got the last of the breakfast stuff ready just
in time, and there was no need to call anyone in.
Laughter heralded their approach, and Storm winced at the
proliferation of Jamies. A few dissolved into fog as she watched, which
meant that there would soon be only one. She hoped. Thank goodness the
Professor was able to lay his hands on a few hundred army blankets
before the snow set in.
Evan was singing, "We won," over and over to the tune of Auld Lang
Syne while everyone else was laughing.
They were wet, ruffled, and in some places scratched, but they were
exhuberant and they didn't care.
"All right," she said when it seemed they'd all assembled. "Who was
your snowball fight against? The Brotherhood?"
"Ha! We *wish*."
"We were just up against one troublesome fuzzball," said Hank.
"Speaking of whom... where *is* he?"
"Heh heh heh heh heh..." said Ray.

The flagpole kept hitting his head, resonating with a faint {bong}
each time.
"Gu-uyyyyss..." Kurt called. "It's freezing up here! This isn't funny
any more. Guys?" He sighed. He was wrapped in rope, from his shoulders
to his feet, and only that because Ray had needed the rest of it to hang
him upside-down from the flagpole.
Okay. They'd obviously left him to his own devices. Wonderful. He
tried to wriggle, only to discover that Ray had tied him tighter than a
drum. He could, just barely, inch his way out of his wrappings each time
he let out his breath.
Well, any plan was better than none.
The snow piled itself away in a pathway nearby, letting a little
avenue open for the Professor.
"Kurt, what on Earth are you doing up there?"
He grinned down at him. "Oh, just hanging around. You know me."
Sigh. "I'll get you down, just give me a moment."
"Don't trouble yourself Herr Professor. One more and I'll be free-
EEEEEEEEEE!" {Pof!} He hit the snow headfirst. "Well," he said, muffled
by the snow. "At least I'm down..."
"Why didn't you teleport?"
Kurt picked himself up, shaking snow from himself. "Haven't had
breakfast," he sighed. "And I spent too much energy digging all those
tunnels this morning." His nose itched. _Oh great..._ "Hee... hahh...
HAT-shoo! ...oooohhhhh... Verdammt..."

"Go on inside. I'll talk to the others."
"Nein, Professor. I started it. I got everything I deserved, ya?
Haaahhh... HAT-shoo! HAT-shoo! HAT-shoo!"
"Inside. Now."
Sigh. "Jawohl. I know. Get cleaned and dry before coming to anyone's
defence..." He slouched off, leaving the Professor shaking his head
behind him.
Charles Xavier wheeled himself back indoors, only tisking at the tiny
puddles that were Kurt's tracks. At least they were headed upstairs.
There were times - times like this, for example - when he had to wonder
if he could really *handle* so many young mutants at once.