The Adventures of Wanda Maximoff
By: Ariesque
Rated: PG or PG-13
Genre: Humor/Romance
Disclaimer: Characters do not belong me.
Cautions: Mild language and violence if you may.
A/N: Sorry for the slow update. I went to a series of camps over the summer, and then school started so I have been juggling homework and mellophone practicing while writing this story. Hopefully I'm not making anyone madder than I am myself. Also, there is mention of Wicker Park in my story, which obviously does not belong to me. I don't even know why I put it in here. But I did and here it will stay.
Dedication: To all who have reviewed! {dances happy dance}
December 5
Hmm. I found a note in my locker at school. It said: December 7, I'll be there.
Argh. I half know it's from John, but it could be from Todd, although I don't understand how either of them could have gotten hold of my locker number. Maybe it was meant for someone else's locker, and that's what I am hoping.
Later
I met Rogue on my way home, since the Institute is not very far from the Brotherhood House. She was sitting under the Great Oak, reading Poe's poetry when I greeted her a good afternoon. The Southerner glanced up at me and smiled graciously.
"Well, dis is a swell surprise," she drawled, getting to her feet. "What have yah been up tah?"
I admitted not much and started to walk with her. She suddenly bent over and opened a folded piece of paper that was on the ground. I recognized it as the note from earlier and waited until she was done reading it.
"Oh Ah see," she said, giving me a sly eye. I shrugged.
"It's my "boyfriend" who isn't my boyfriend." She looked at me worriedly, and I explained that it was a long story.
"Well, where is he plannin' tah yah?"
"Nosy are we?" I asked, and she laughed.
"Ah'm starting to act lahke Jeanie," she rasped and we grinned at each other. She then proposed that we should double date, because she'd like to meet him. Knowing their terms, I tried telling her my "boyfriend" was John, but she wouldn't hear it. Said something about wanting to be surprised.
Oh will she ever be surprised.
December 6
I have heard that the Bayville stream, which flows through the wooded part of Bayville, is completely frozen over as it is early December. There is also talk about it being dangerous because people are known to fall right through the ice. Maybe I will string up Pietro and leave him there, the Devil take him. He came into my room in the middle of the night and snatched my comforter. I now have a runny nose and horrible temper and want brother out, but Father says to think none about it. The Devil take him too.
December 7
Eight o'clock rolls along, and I am sitting in front of my mirror, observing my hair and how much it has grown since I've cut it. Approving of the shoulder length and how the layers came out nicely, the doorbell rings, and since the Boys went out to the movies [I declined because whenever I go, I end up buying all the food] I answer it. And what do you know? There stood John, smartly dressed and carrying a bonquet of roses the color of burgundy. He looked at me, taking in my pajamas and scrubbed down face, knowing there was something definitely wrong with this picture.
"Well, either yah or me is wrongly dressed for the occasion," he acknowledged. I crossed my arms over my chest and frowned at him.
"What occasion? What's going on?" I guess I looked lost, for John smiled his sympathetic smile I've only seen him use on me.
"Ah, well, Wanda, I personally would like tah take yah out tonight." I dropped my jaw.
"Out? As in...a date?" John gave me a skeptical look.
"Fair Dinkum! What boyfriend would not take their girl out? And as the Beatles once sang, I would lose that girl if I didn't." He smirked at his own comment, before observing my blank stare and immediately understood. "Oh, did yah not get my note dat I left in your locker?"
A gong sounded in my head. "Oh. I...forgot." And I wasn't lying either.
John growled. "Geez Vapid Vanda, dah one thing someone--anyone--does fer yah, and yah ruin it. I seem tah be more romantic than you, and I'm a guy."
I told him that I would hit him if what he said was not true, but it was.
He huffed, putting the roses aside and stepping away from the porch. "I have reasons to leave yah high and dry, but no. I will not. Instead I tell yah dis-- in decorated language: I loathe yer ignorance tah mah note but I refuse tah leave because once again mah love, yah have compelled me tah stay. Puttin' it simply: go change--we're going to a show."
"But I just ate," I whined, "and I am very comfortable in my pajamas, thank you very much." This did not satisfy John, who hurriedly stepped inside, much to my surprise and irritation.
"Those are horrible excuses, Vapid Vanda. Never use them again." He glared at me and continued, "I paid a lot of money fer dese tickets an' I'm not gonna see them go tah waste befer mah eyes. Therefore, yah are goin' tah change an' get in yer father's car an' we shall rush because dah show starts at 8:30." I meant to protest, I did. But he gave me such a sour face, that I pulled on my scarlet slip and he drove to the Massachusetts Bayville Theater, where we watched a special screening of Wicker Park.
I've never been to a movie with the Aussie before, and I'm glad I haven't. He snapped for the credits, threw popcorn at the screen whenever Josh Hartnett kissed someone, and got into a fight with someone in the front row because John threw his empty tub and it landed on that person's head. He then got us kicked out of the theater, wasting the tickets in the end, but he didn't seem to mind, driving to BlueJay Blues for their famous banana splits. As we sat on top of Father's car with the desserts, I questioned him about Rogue, and why she should cower from him other than because he's mad?
John snorted in response, and dug his spoon into the ice cream. "Rogue an' I have lived in different worlds since we've known each other. She just doesn't like what I've done tah Remy. I guess I could see why: it's like I shot her too." I glanced at him, finding his head turned towards the sky, mind and memory far from this world. What could he be thinking about? It was as if he once had feelings for Rogue.
It's a daunting explanation. But in every respect, valid.
And I can't think of any reason why I care.
December 8
Father has just given me his updated list of things that Daughter Dearest shouldn't do. Pusch, what a waste of a perfectly good tree to create such a thing.
THINGS DAUGHTER SHOULD NOT DO:
-DO NOT threaten to stuff Pietro's nose and mouth with toilet paper
-DO NOT date John because he is MAD
-DO NOT perform CPR by hexing the person into a wall a couple of times
-DO NOT tell Pietro the Flash is faster than him
-DO NOT order Todd to shine my shoes just to get rid of him. I can do that myself
-DO NOT threaten Pietro at all. Just don't do it
-DO NOT tease Lance about being a loner. He's just not good with people is all
-DO NOT give Fred the rejection number and say it is from Jean.
-DO NOT hide my brandy bottles in Pietro's room.
Father doesn't permit me to have any fun.
December 9
Skimmed through the Book of Spells and found a curse of putrid throat. I need a few snake tongues, but have everything else. I asked Lance about where to get some, and he will look into it.
December 10
I pulled on my olive green cardigan this morning on top of a mint cut sleeved dress as I checked the time. 7:30 a.m. Should have been at school by then. Father always said I couldn't be punctual even if I tried. I personally dislike the school I go to--Bayville's School for Aspiring Young Ladies-- which happened to be first choice of Father's. I walk there every morning, though I take some days off if I can.
Like today. But it's not like I expected to skip today.
I was about a quarter of a mile away from the Home, when suddenly, out of nowhere, St. John Allerdyce appears as I cross the main street that leads to my school. Shocked, I back away, and we stand at either corner of the street, staring at each other.
The Aussie, apparently finding this amusing, smirked. "So we meet again, Sheila," he called over the passing cars. "Where to this time? The local Coffee Bean or the Third Street store[1]?"
Hardly flattered, I frowned. "For your information, I'm going to school. And I'd like to get there undisturbed, if you'll let me." I walked across the street just as the traffic sign turned green. But going past him I could not. John immediately jumped into my way, and declared he had a surprise for me.
"Can it not wait?" I rasped, tapping my toes in my flats. Not that I wanted to go to school. It's just that if I don't get out of the street by 7:45, Father comes riding up in his limo and tries to find me, to make sure I'm not taking so much time getting there. But John--that evil pyro--, he stood in my way, and gave me that odd grin of his, knowing full well that I knew he would not budge, even if it was the end of the world and lava was spilling down on us. Wouldn't budge even if God Himself asked him to.
"It's fer today and today only," he declared, waving two tickets in front of me. "Wouldn't yah want tah find out what it is?"
"Not if my life depended on it," I said, airily, stepping aside. John glanced at me, and a flash of insanity crossed his face.
"Well," he said, dully, walking out into the middle of the street, "then mine does." The light turned green, and cars flew past him, zipping, honking, cursing, people leaning out of their windows to frown or wonder at the mad man who dared to stand in the middle of the street at rush hour. I too, stared at John, before realizing he really did mean life or death.
I yelled over the cars. "Get back on the curb, John: you'll get yourself killed!" He looked at me, and then waved the tickets once more. I cringed, and stated that I would go with him, "Just get on the damn curb!"
John, with a look of triumph on his face, skipped back beside me. He placed one of the stupid stubs in my palm and I looked at it.
"The circus?!" I was disbelieving with the fact that he almost sacrificed himself to make me go to the circus with him. "But it's a Monday! Who goes to the circus on a Monday? Are they even open?"
"No," John said, slyly. "But they are when I order special tickets to visit it."
"Well, sorry John, but I decline. I have school to attend."
"Of course," John said bitterly, "dash my hopes like you want. But my death will be on your hands. I'll throw myself out at those cars, and it'll be like you pushed me under their tires."
I sniffed, "I do not care."
"Yes you do," he said, quietly. And there was a silence between us, a silence that I found compelling. There was John, hard and mad and stupid, ready to cry and deliver the sob story, and then there was me, Wanda, with no particular care in the world, except at the moment I was being intimidated by a crazy guy who wanted to go to the circus. But I could not find a reason to not go. Half of me wanted--needed--to stay and watch John kill himself. It would be spectacular. Fantastic. Stupendous. But it would also deprive me of my plan. John might be doing this to stage a date with him, making Father furious. And that would be spectacular, fantastic, and stupendous as well. In a way, he might actually be doing me a favor.
So we went to the circus. And Father was there, much to my surprise. Possibly watching for other mutants, I suppose. When he caught sight of us, he scowled and I knew there would be a palaver. Therefore, I have started on the spell of putrid throat, Lance having supplied me with the tongues. Hopefully, the curse will redeem me.
December 11
The curse has worked! Well, not exactly. Fred tripped over Father's foot as he was walking down the main hall and now Father has a swollen ankle. So instead of putrid throat, he has putrid ankle. Father does not wish to see anyone, and therefore nothing more for today except to celebrate by kicking Pietro and to find the chocolate bon-bons which Todd gave me that one Christmas.
December 12
Plagued by gut churning with too much chocolate. No more for now.
December 13
As John and I were walking to the Brotherhood Home after school, we ran into Todd who hopped out in front of us, obviously attempting to keep us from strolling any further.
"I'm sick of this, yo!" he mourned, jumping furiously up and down. "It ain't fair for me to sit here while you two hook up, yo!"
"He's very lonely," I explained as the Aussie nodded, understandingly. Todd overheard and pulled John away from me.
"I can't believe you'd pick this crazy lop for your guy!" Todd's voice was incredulous. John glanced at me and furrowed his brow.
"What's a lop?" he asked, innocently. The Toad let out an enraged cry and pushed him aside.
"You and me, yo. Let's go," he said, pumping his fists in the air. John took in the situation with a sardonic smirk.
"You're not serious, are you?"
"Oh, am I ever," Todd assured him. "I plan to pull every hair out of your head and drag you screaming by your scrawny legs." John's smirk widened into a smile.
"Them be fighting words [2]. But while we're at it, I want to strangle you with your grotesquely long tongue. En garde." John braced himself while Todd prepared to attack. But I butt in.
"Perhaps it'd be best if we left this at the Brotherhood. I mean, it is Bayville High." I recognized some X-Men coming out of the front doors of the school. Pyro drew back just when Todd spit in his face [3]. Responding to the assault, John kicked blindly in front of him while Todd laughed mockingly.
"Not so hot now are you, Pyro?" By now the X-Men had noticed Todd and blind John, and were drawing closer to the duel.
"Guys, really, I'm not much to fight over." I grabbed hold of John's arms, and he hit me, thinking that I was Todd. I yelped and threw a hex at Todd who was knocked into the building. There was a gasp as I turned around to face Rogue, a questioning look on her face.
I told her I'd explain later and directed John away from the growing crowd. By the time we got to the Home, the spit had hardened over his eyes and nose, so I sat him down in the living room while I fetched the Book of Spells.
When I came back, Lance and Fred were marveling at the Aussie before I threatened to throw Harkness' volume at them, so they left. Flipping through the pages, I was unable to find a spell, so I called Fred to return to the room.
He approached cautiously, since my threats could easily be taken into effect. "What is it, Wanda?"
"It's the spittle," I said, gesturing at John's face. It had also solidified over his mouth. "I can't take it off." Fred glanced at it and made a face.
"So what do you want me to do?"
"I want you to punch it off." John had heard, since I could hear muffled screams from his immovable mouth.
Fred wasn't too hot with the idea either. "You don't think I'll break his face?"
"Well, it's either that or he suffocates." More soft yelps from John. I showed Fred where he should hit, all the while praying he wouldn't mess up [because most of the time, he does]. That being said, Fred punched and there was a deafening crack, but it wasn't the spittle. It was Fred's knuckle bones breaking.
There you have it. The strongest Brotherhood member was now on the floor in tears.
After I put his hand in ice, I quickly returned to John, and tried to hex it off, but as I struggled to lift it off his face, I noticed I was pulling skin along with the spittle. Therefore, in all frustration and anger and tiredness, I took the book of Spells and rammed it against his cheek. John was thrown from the couch, where he fell face first on the coffee table. There came another deafening crack and the green blob shattered into a million pieces while Pyro lay on the floor, gasping for air.
When he had finished coughing and wiping the stuff from his face, St. John threw his arms around me, declaring I had saved his life.
"I wouldn't have known what to do," he admitted and I agreed. "It's good dat I'm with yah."
We did not linger on the subject: John had to go and I did not keep him from leaving. It is weird how he didn't break his nose, and how I came through it all. Maybe I'll find an answer after I tranquilize Fred since he has been screaming all afternoon about his hurt hand.
[1] Third Street is the Forever 21 for Bayville.
[2] Stole this phrase from Jason, who wrote them in response to my livejournal entry.
[3] from X-Men the Movie. Todd has spitting powers!
Up next: Jonda drama
...stay tuned...
