Disclaimer: No. I do not own X-Men, nor do I own or have anything to do with Stomp aside from that I have the ability to make an incredible amount of racket with a dustbin lid. But that's about as far as the connection goes..
A/N: This was just me playing about, getting into the swing of writing, and it got a little out of hand…the madness took over. Well, you know, feel free to review and whatever. For anyone who doesn't know, Stomp are an excellent group who make music out of stamping their feet and clapping their hands and stuff. Really good. Anyway, let me know what you think! Thanks!
Rap. Rap. Rap.
Remy looked up, raising an eyebrow and looking across the table at Bobby, who had been incessantly rapping his fingers against the table for the past five minutes.
"Knock it off." The deep growled warning alerted him to Logan, who was also staring daggers at the man. "Tryin' to play cards, not drumkits."
Remy couldn't help a slight grin at the older man's bad mood, and as Bobby removed his offending fingers from the table, tapped his own knuckles against the wood. He glanced up as Logan turned a look on him that clearly said 'do that one more time and you're dead.' Remy shrugged.
"Yo' turn, homme."
Logan snarled, and pulled a card from his hand. He thumped his palm against the middle of the table, placing the card face up. Bobby instinctively reached out and pulled the card across the table to his own hand, and put another card in its place, thumping his hand against the wood.
Another thump. Everyone turned round to look at Jubilee standing behind Remy's shoulder.
"Girl's not even playin'.." Logan muttered,
She flashed him an innocent look. "Sorry..I just got caught up in the moment, I guess."
The boys turned back round to the card game, all hiding grins except for Logan.
Swish. Thump. Swish. Thump. Swish. Thump. The game continued, as the cards were dragged across the table, and slammed in the center, with a never-ceasing pattern. Remy and Bobby's eyes flickered with amusement as they glanced across the table at each other. How long would it take the Canadian to realise none of them were actually paying any attention to what cards they were putting down any more?
Swish. Thump. Swish. Thump. Clink. Warren tapped his fingernails across the empty bottle at his hand.
Swish. Thump. Swish. Thump. Bang. Rogue slammed the cupboard door, a frustrated look on her face and a nearly finished bag of muesli in her fist.
"Isn' there anythin' halfway decent to eat in this house??" Rogue asked, looking pointedly across the room at the four men playing cards.
Swish. Thump. Swish. Thump. Rustle. Bobby waved a bag of crisps above his head, a triumphant grin across his face. "Last bag."
"You lil'.." The rest of what Rogue muttered was muffled by the sound of Bobby leaping from his chair with a teasing laugh, and running across the room away from her, with the bag still in his hand.
Swish. Thump. Swish. Thump. Patter. Rogue chased Bobby across the kitchen, the sounds of their footsteps echoing across the linoleum floor. Remy got up to go to Bobby's rescue, leaving Warren and Logan to play.
Bobby took a step back from Rogue, who stood between him and the door. For every step back he took, she took one forward, making it look like a violent tango, and adding to the general racket of the room with their dance steps round the kitchen.
Swish. Thump. Swish. Thump. Whoop. Bobby let out a cry of amusement, as Remy snuck up behind Rogue, taking her by the arms and holding her back from bodily harming the iceman.
"Gettoffameswamprat!!" Rogue yelled, all her words rolled into one blurted phrase, directed in the Cajun's general direction.
Remy shook his head with a grin. "Not if y'plan makin' casualties over a bag of potato chips, chere."
Rogue rolled her eyes and stamped her feet against the floor, her boot heels tapping loudly against the floor tiles. Logan turned round at the racket, flashing the middle claw of his right hand at them.
Swish. Thump. Tap. Snikt. Bang. Bang. Bang-bang. Everyone turned round to see Storm with an exasperated look on her face, having just opened and searched and slammed every cupboard in the kitchen.
"Is there nothing to eat in this mansion?"
"Ask Bobby." Rogue snarled, stamping her feet against the floor again, still trying to get to the iceman, while Remy struggled to keep a hold on her. Bobby backed up more, as Storm also approached him with much the same look Rogue had. She and Remy were now having a strange sort of arm wrestle involving a lot of stamping on the floor, which ended up looking a lot like a tap dancing duet.
"If y'wanted t'dance, why didn' y'say so, chere?" Remy asked, with his usual lopsided grin, picking up on this fact, and having to jump before Rogue hit him.
Swish. Thump. Tap. Bang. Tap-tap. Patter. Zap. Crash. Bobby was now running round the kitchen, as Storm narrowly missed hitting him with a minor lightning bolt in an attempt to get the half crushed junk-food, and instead smashed the window.
~*~*~
Scott frowned, sitting up in bed. He could have sworn he just heard a crash downstairs. He got up and went out into the corridor, leaving Jean asleep, although how she slept through the racket coming from downstairs was a wonder.
He approached the stairs and the noise seemed to get louder. Rap. Tap. Zap. Crash. Clack. Clink.
Scott reached the kitchen, rubbing his eyes to make sure the bombsite he was seeing was in fact really there. Cards were splayed across the kitchen table, the remnants of an abandoned game. Rogue and Remy seemed to be doing a frenzied tap dance across the linoleum tiles. Bobby was quite literally tap dancing. He was balancing on tip toe on the taps of the kitchen sink. Frozen jets of water spewed from the taps, and Ororo was for some reason trying to grab the iceman. Glass from a broken window was smashed into the linoleum, and scorch marks covered the walls.
And a potato ship bag had burst, throwing crisps all over the kitchen floor.
Rap. Tap. Zap. Clack. Clink. Rap. Thump. The four in the kitchen stopped their chaos abruptedly, and turned to look at the kitchen doorway, where Scott had fainted.
***