Belated Happy New Year! I hope 2019 brings you everything you desire! Thanks and a big hug to everyone reading/reviewing - you guys are phenomenal at keeping me motivated and inspired! We've probably got about three chapters or so left to go. I will do my best to get them out in a timely fashion. As always please feel free to review and offer criticism, but I ask that all criticism be constructive.
Disclaimer: If you've seen it in a comic book, I don't own it. The X-men are the property of Marvel which is the property of Disney.
Cheyenne stared at her reflection in the mirror, busily brushing her teeth. She spat out a mint flavored stream of liquid into the sink and grinned widely at her reflection, considering her teeth. Pausing in her examination, she tilted her head and stuck out her tongue. "Hmmm.." She considered, flicking her tongue out of her mouth again. 'I wonder what it's like.' She mused, placing her hands under the running water of the sink and splashing her face, 'to have that much tongue in your mouth.' The double-meaning of this thought occurred to her as she squirted out a bit of facial scrub onto her damp fingers. The brunette shared a giddy, conspiratorial grin with her image in the mirror as she soaped up her flushing face with the facial wash. An image of Toad flicking his tongue out to steal food off of her plate the night before, then smirking at her with his golden eyes dancing mischievously occurred to her.
Her plate hadn't been the only one he'd snatched food from. He'd also stolen from Sammy, who apparently was generally known as "Squid Boy" and had been delighted with the demonstration of the older mutant's abilities. The eleven year old had been seated across the table from them at dinner, alongside his mother. Lana Paré was employed as the school nurse and dorm mother, and had been pleased at her son's enjoyment although Cheyenne could tell she was still reserving judgment of the British mutant impressing her offspring.
The arrival of the full-time resident students the day before had certainly livened up mansion life and the dinner table. Dinner had moved from the kitchen to the dining hall. Conversation at dinner had largely concerned the introduction of Forge's latest gizmo, which was basically, as Cheyenne understood it, some sort of hologram projector.
Professor Xavier had made a small speech welcoming back the students from their vacation, and introducing the new members of staff. Cheyenne had shifted a little, nervous under the scrutiny of curious eyes when it was her turn to be introduced, but had taken comfort in Mort who took the attention with a smirk when his own name was introduced - even though she was fairly certain he was not pleased at the use of his full name- and had announced himself as Toad. The students had been interested in the new members of staff, but they were beyond excited when Forge had taken over from Professor Xavier in introducing his latest invention.
Forge, with dramatic flair, had stood. "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the Image Inducer!" He then gestured emphatically at Beast, Nightcrawler and Toad.
All three men pressed a button on the device on their wrists; Hank pressed his with a sigh and a mutter about melodramatic inventors. Gasps and murmurs broke out around the table.
Cheyenne tuned out a bit as Forge continued his presentation, fascinated with the formerly green mutant sitting next to her.
"Wot do you think?" Mort asked, fidgeting under the inspection of the pretty Texan next to him.
"This is so strange." Cheyenne replied in awe, looking at the now completely unremarkable five-fingered hand resting on the table. Curiously she laid her own hand over Toad's, mesmerized as her thumb touched air brushing over a pinky finger that didn't exist.
"When can we get one?" A teenaged girl with brown eyes and scaled skin inquired.
"Production has already been started, but I'll have to fit each of you specially to tailor the Inducer to your biometrics and mutations." Forge responded.
"This will allow all of you to go out in society without fear of discrimination." Professor Xavier put in. "But I remind you that it is merely a device to prevent confrontation, and that the appearance of everyone sitting at this table is already perfectly normal and acceptable. We have to continue to work towards a society where such measures are no longer needed."
Toad heard all this as if from a long distance, focused on the delicate hand running along his own. His eyes shifted to Cheyenne's face and found her ocean colored eyes focused on his hand, a frown pulling at her pink lips. "How do you turn it off?" He watched intently as the words fell from her lips, and mutely indicated the proper button on the device.
Cheyenne pressed it before her mind fully processed what she was doing. "Sorry," she apologized as the image faded, "but I felt like I was sitting next to a stranger." She smiled sheepishly at him. "Now you're you again."
"You don' prefer me normal?"
"This is normal for you." Cheyenne pointed out. "And I like you just the way you are." She beamed at him and squeezed his hand.
To Toad it felt as if something inside him burst at the honesty of the winged mutant's words, and the sincerity of her smile. Myth's expression turned shy, cheeks flushing, as she became conscious of the fact that her hand still retained his. She moved to retract her hand, but not before Mort gave her a gently hesitant squeeze in return.
Cheyenne brushed her hair absentmindedly as she pondered her clothes. 'If I'm going to be flying with Warren, I'd better wear jeans.' Suiting the thought to action, she pulled out a pair of jeans. Cheyenne frowned, biting on her lower lip as she considered shirts. Her hand hovered over a comfy grey t-shirt for a moment, before she reluctantly withdrew it. 'Too baggy.' She thought regretfully. The brunette winced at the mental image of her flying over the mansion and the wind ripping her shirt up in front of all and sundry. 'I really don't want to show my bra off to the whole school. And I need something patriotic.' Independence Day was her favorite holiday, and she had dressed appropriately to celebrate it for as long as she could remember.
"Ah-hah!" She stated triumphantly as an idea occurred to her. Walking to her closet, she opened the door and easily found where she had hung her new clothes. "Perfect." The winged mutant smiled and withdrew her new red blouse. Laying jeans and blouse on the bed, she stepped back to survey the outfit.
'The blouse is form-fitting enough that it shouldn't blow up in the wind.' A flush spread across her cheeks. 'I wonder if Mort will like it.'
Mort returned to consciousness with the sound of shouts and whoops in the distance.
"Ughh." He groaned, pulling his pillow over his head. "Bloody rug rats." The green mutant grumbled, voice muffled by the downy softness over his face.
Toad laid like this for several moments before tossing his pillow aside with a sigh. Muttering grumpily under his breath, he rose from the bed and set about getting ready for the day. In a half asleep state, he carefully pulled on his pants. He wiggled his toe gingerly and made a pleased noise. "Jus' about all better." A vision of the winged mutant in the next room, looking over her shoulder with a smile equal parts shy and come-hither, came to mind.
The British mutant resumed getting ready for the day with considerably more enthusiasm. He pulled a sleeveless shirt from his chest of drawers, and pulled it over his head. Now humming under his breath, the green-skinned man ambled to the bathroom. He cheerfully applied deodorant, brushed his teeth and, after a moment's consideration, used the provided mouth wash. He spat out the spearmint rinse after a few seconds, and grinned cheekily at his reflection.
"Time for tha' Toad to get tha' princess." He told the mirror, running a brush through his inky mane.
Walking cockily out of the bathroom, he opened the top drawer in the dresser and ran his fingers along the selection of bandanas Myth had bought for him.
"Oh, this'll be too good." He purred slyly, pulling a bandana from the drawer and putting it on.
Now ready for the day, Toad swaggered out of his room. He closed the door behind him and, after a check to see if the light was on in the next room and finding the space under the door dark, headed downstairs.
A glance in the dining room showed it to be empty. Continuing onwards, he found the kitchen mostly deserted, with a few stragglers eating breakfast. A dark-haired teen with scaled skin was robotically eating scrambled eggs in the manner of someone one who had risen but was refusing to shine. She was sitting next to a very sleepy Jubilee who was cupping a large mug of coffee in both hands and staring into its depths.
Hank and Storm sat across from each other a few seats down, conversing and sipping from their own mugs. Standing at the sink rinsing off plates was a familiar petite figure.
'God bless America.' Toad thought, staring hungrily. Myth was wearing a pair of denim jeans and a figure-hugging red shirt that far better emphasized the Texan's curves than her usual attire. Golden eyes traced said curves with rapt attention, and lingered along the exposed skin of her upper back. His fingers twitched to run along the skin, to see if it was as soft as it looked, and to brush aside the dark braid tied off with a white ribbon in a bow and kiss her neck.
Beast clearing his throat alerted him to the fact that all four people sitting at the table were watching him watch Cheyenne. Beast hid his smile with a sip from his cup of tea, while Jubilee and the teenager were grinning at him.
"Good morning, Toad." Storm said, eyes dancing with amusement.
"Morning." Toad replied gruffly, unable to stop the upward twitch of his own lips as Myth spun around and smiled at him.
"Good morning, Mort!"
"Any food left, or did tha' ankle biters get it all?"
"I made you a plate." Cheyenne admitted bashfully, nodding at the table where a napkin was tucked around a plate.
"Thanks, love." Mort sat, inordinately pleased at this thoughtfulness. He pulled the napkin to see scrambled eggs, buttered toast, crispy bacon and sausage.
"If it's too cold, I can heat it in the microwave." Cheyenne offered, watching him take a bite of the eggs.
Mort swallowed. "Nah, food's fine, love." He basked in the novelty of a woman fretting over him. To date the woman he'd spent the most time around had been Mystique and the likelihood of the shape-shifter getting his breakfast was on par with Magneto joining the Friends of Humanity.
"The teapot is down here, Mort." Storm volunteered. "Would you care for a cup?"
"English breakfast?" Mort inquired.
"Naturally." Beast raised an eyebrow. "What else would we have at breakfast?"
"I've seen ya drink tha' herbal junk, don' get high handed with me." Toad gesticulated with his fork. "But I would love a cuppa, yes."
Cheyenne smiled at this interchange, and couldn't resist an impish comment. "Sure I can't tempt you to a glass of iced tea, Mort?"
Toad shuddered dramatically, prompting Myth to giggle.
"I can't believe ya drink tha' swill."
"I grew up drinking that swill." Myth replied, placing the final dish in the dishwasher and turning around.
"Then it's high time ya had some real tea." The green skinned mutant pointed at the seat opposite him with his bacon. "Sit yerself down and I'll pour you a cuppa."
"Hmmm.." Myth cocked a hip and put her hand on it, while her other tapped her chin in mock thought. "I don't know if I can do that, Mort." She grinned at him mischievously and Toad watched in fascination, mesmerized by her pose and absently holding his bacon. "You see," she continued, "that bandana is provoking me to take your tea and dump it in the swimming pool."
"Alas, we have no harbor." Hank commented, amused.
"You wouldn't." Mort accused, pulling his cup to his chest protectively.
"I wouldn't." Cheyenne agreed, sitting down in the seat opposite him. "I'm not dressed for it." She added innocently. "I wouldn't dream of re-enacting the Boston Tea Party without a Native American costume for authenticity."
Mort laughed, and Cheyenne could do nothing other than beam. 'He has the best laugh ever.'
"Then my tea's safe, love?"
"It escapes this year." Cheyenne confirmed. "But just you try coming down in the Union Jack on the Fourth next year."
"Oh, I look forward to it." Mort purred, proffering a cup of tea towards the Texan.
Cheyenne took it obediently, feeling a flush in her cheeks at the promise in his tone. "You do realize," she said, "that if I try tea your way then I'll expect you to have a big ole glass of sweet tea later."
Toad sighed gustily. "The things I do for you, love."
"LIZ!"
"Nooooo." The teenager replied to the distant shout, deadpan.
Sammy skidded into the room in swim trunks, practically vibrating with excitement.
"Indoor voice, Sammy." Storm reminded the boy.
"Sorry, Ms. Munroe." Squid Boy said guiltily. He caught sight of Toad and brightened. "Good morning, Mr. Toad!"
Toad cringed. "Jus' Toad, kid."
"Pool games are starting up. Want to come play with us?"
"No thanks, kid." Mort replied awkwardly in the face of such eagerness. "Chlorine's hard on me skin."
"Me too!" Sammy chirped. "And Liz! But it's all cool, cause Dr. McCoy came up with an alternate sanitizing agent."
"Maybe later then." Mort said gruffly.
"Awesome!" Sammy cheered, fist pumping. "What about you, Dr. McCoy? Ms. Munroe? Ms. Jackson? Ms. Jubilee?"
"Mmmm, after I'm done with my coffee, Sammy." Jubilee nodded.
"Maybe after we're finished with our tea, dear." Storm smiled at the boy.
Cheyenne fidgeted as the boy turned earnest orange eyes on her. "I'm waiting to meet my cousin." The eyes stared up at her and she crumbled. "But after he gets here, then sure."
"Yes! It'll be so great. Mr. Drake said he'll make ice slides." Sammy grinned. "C'mon , Liz, hurry up!"
Liz swallowed the last of her juice. "I'm coming, I'm coming." She yawned, opening her jaw far wider than was normally humanly possible. "Keep your trunks on." Placing her dishes in the sink, the teen ambled out of the kitchen.
Golden eyes examined the fidgeting Texan. "Ya can't swim, eh love?"
"I can swim!" Cheyenne defended, then offered him a sheepish smile. "Just not very well."
"Well, I'll soon have you fixed up." Mort promised, looking forward to an opportunity to see Myth in a swimsuit and have an excuse to touch her.
"So, who's your favorite Doctor?" Mort inquired, accepting the scrubbed mug Cheyenne handed him and placing it in the dishwasher.
"Hmmm.." Cheyenne pondered, pausing. "New Who, Old Who, or overall?"
"All three." Mort replied, bemused. Conversation over his breakfast had turned to the Image Inducer, when Storm had pondered aloud whether or not the device was waterproof. Beast had replied that it should be. He had then paused and announced that he needed to speak to Forge. Storm had trailed after the blue-furred mutant with a fond smile, after ascertaining that Cheyenne did not require assistance finishing cleaning the dishes.
Feeling rather shy at now being alone with the British mutant, Cheyenne had commented that the device reminded her of something out of Star Trek. The conversation had turned to science fiction, and both people had been delighted to discover a mutual enjoyment of the genre and Doctor Who in particular.
"Eccleston, Pertwee, and Pertwee." Myth decided.
Mort made a noise of surprise. "Wot, no Tennant?"
"Tennant's awesome." Cheyenne said, picking up the final plate and scrubbing it. "Really, all of them are awesome in their own way. I just like Eccleston and Pertwee best."
"I know wot you mean." Mort acknowledged.
"Last one." Cheyenne announced, handing him the final plate with a smile. "Thanks so much for helping me finish these, Mort." Cheyenne said happily. 'He's so easy to talk to.' She marveled. 'And it was so nice of him to stay and help me.' A sharp beep from her pocket disrupted her thoughts.
The sudden noise prompted her wings and talons to spring free as she startled.
"Sorry!" She apologized to the green mutant, who had tensed beside her and leaned forward as a green wing sheared the air behind his back. "I can't control myself when I'm surprised." She rubbed the back of her neck in embarrassment, and tucked her wings behind her.
'So bloody hot.' Mort thought, taking in the addition of her wings and talons to her Fourth of July get-up. "It's fine, Cheyenne. I don' do so well with surprises either."
Cheyenne smiled sheepishly at him and, after wiping her hands on a dish towel, pulled her phone from her back pocket.
" 'Sides," He added with a sly smirk, "Ya look good with green on you."
Myth almost dropped her phone, and could feel the blood rushing to her face as she turned the same color as her shirt. 'Oh, wow. Wow!' She shook her head slightly, getting a better grip on her phone and stifling the urge to fan her face. 'Get it together, Cheyenne. Return fire!' With her eyes fixed on the screen of her phone, she replied. "Thank you. Green is my favorite color." Lifting her eyes to his golden ones, she stuck her chin out and added boldly. "I've always liked the way it looks on me."
Mort's smirk turned into a dumbstruck smile, and Cheyenne beamed. Her wings flicked slightly in her pleasure. Shifting her attention back to her phone as shyness overcame her, the brunette opened her new text message.
"Oh!" She bounced a little on her toes in her excitement. "Warren's five minutes out! I think I'll go outside and wait."
Internally, Mort cursed the advent of the blonde, winged X-man. "Alrigh'. You do tha' and I'll go check out the pool."
"Then later you can give me my swimming lesson?"
Mort softened at the ocean colored eyes gazing at him. "Course, love."
Cheyenne followed the Englishman out of the kitchen. They were in the hall and getting ready to head in opposite directions when a thought occurred to her.
"Mort, do you have swim trunks?"
The green-skinned mutant paused and turned back to her. "Nope." He smirked wickedly at her, winked and resumed his path pool-wards, a swagger in his step.
'Muh.' Cheyenne thought incoherently, standing and watching Toad walk away until he was out of sight. Blinking a few times, the Texan came back to herself and made her way to the front door. 'That man may be the death of me.' A smile tugged at her lips. 'I kind of love it, though.' Her resolve further strengthened to adhere to Angela's advice to take her time and enjoy herself, the winged mutant opened the rather grand front door and walked out onto the porch, leaving the door open a crack.
She looked eagerly down the long drive spanning the immaculate lawn with its well-groomed shrubs and flower beds. Putting a hand above her eyes to shade them, she saw movement. The automated gates began to open in the distance. Cheyenne began to bounce on her toes again. 'It's him! It's him!'
A baby blue Maserati moved smoothly down the drive, and Cheyenne could barely contain herself. 'I hope he likes me.' She rubbed her hands together in nervous excitement.
In what was simultaneously far too soon and not soon enough, the car came to a stop before her. A tall blonde man with bright blue eyes and a face so handsome it could have well been sculpted climbed out of the driver's seat. "Cheyenne?" He inquired, offering her a hesitant smile.
Cheyenne nodded and, smiling shyly, spread her wings out. "Warren?"
The man's smile lost its hesitancy and he beamed. "That's me! Hold on just one second." To Cheyenne's bemusement, he rapidly began to unbutton his navy dress shirt. He haphazardly threw the dress shirt into his car, now standing before her in an undershirt with two belts across his chest. The belts were quickly unbuckled and thrown in after the dress shirt. He stretched and a pair of white feathered wings extended.
A startled laugh broke from Cheyenne's lips. "Oh wow!" She felt tears prick at her eyes and wiped them away with her knuckles.
"Wow." Warren agreed, coming to stand before her. "Hug?" He asked, his own eyes gone misty.
Cheyenne nodded, and the two winged mutants hugged sincerely if somewhat awkwardly.
They pulled away and Warren laughed. "This is so bizarre. You look exactly like a dark-haired version of our grandmother."
Cheyenne blinked as she digested this statement.
"When our grandmother was younger, of course." Warren hastened to add. "You don't look older than you are-that is you look exactly your age."
Cheyenne interrupted his rushed assurances by giggling, and Warren sighed. He smiled sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders, flicking his wings slightly in the process.
"Well, now you know the truth: your cousin's secret mutation is a foot in his mouth."
"Oh, I'm sure that's not true." Cheyenne smiled. "I was assured that you were the epitome of charm itself."
Warren snorted. "I wish that was true." He pulled a duffle bag from the backseat of his car and slung it over his shoulder.
"Can I help you with your bags or is that it?"
"This is it." Warren confirmed, patting the bag. "So tell me, who do I need to buy a magnificent Christmas present for spreading such wonderful lies about me?" He inquired as they walked into the mansion together.
"That would be Jubilee." Cheyenne informed him. "Although everyone had nice things to say."
Warren chuckled. "Was this before or after they found out we were related?"
"Both." The pair began to climb the stairs. "It said a lot to your character that Jubilee thought we would be a good couple. Errr, that is that you're a man of good character where women are concerned."
Warren held up a hand to halt her floundering, and unconscious quoting of My Fair Lady, with a smile. "It appears the foot is genetic!"
Laughing, Cheyenne bumped her shoulder into the his bicep and the two resumed their climb up the stairs.
"So, where is everyone?"
"At the pool." The Texan answered. "Apparently, pool games have started. I promised to join in after you got here."
"Good thing I remembered to pack my swimming trunks then." Angel commented cheerfully. "Can I throw my things in the room next to yours?"
Cheyenne shook her head. "Not unless you want to bunk with Forge or Mort."
"Ahh, the mysterious techno path who got trapped in a pocket dimension." Warren mused. "The professor gave me the short version, but I really want to hear the full story."
"I'll leave that to Forge." Cheyenne told him. "He's quite the story-teller."
"Flair for the dramatic, eh?"
Cheyenne laughed and nodded.
"And who's Mort? That's a name I haven't heard."
"He also goes by Toad." Cheyenne explained. "We rescued him from the Friends of Humanity a couple of weeks ago. He's a great guy, well-read and very easy to talk to." Cheyenne forcibly stopped herself, a slight blush coming to her cheeks as she realized she was getting carried away.
"Toad?" Warren inquired in shock. "The prof told me he was working here, but really- he lets you call him Mort?"
"Well, yes." Cheyenne looked up at her taller cousin, brows wrinkling in thought. "Is that such a shock? I know he's been involved in some bad stuff and with a bad crowd, but-"
"The last time I saw Toad," Warren informed her, "he tried to set my wings on fire with a cigarette and encased my feet in slime."
"Oh." The pair fell quiet as Cheyenne processed this. After a moment, she replied. "Well, now you have an opportunity to meet under better circumstances and I'm sure you'll like each other."
"If you say so." Warren eyed his cousin, privately deciding that she was too nice for her own good and he needed to keep an eye on her.
"I know so." Cheyenne said determinedly. "Life hasn't been easy on Mort. He can't hide his mutation like you and me, and …" Cheyenne trailed off with a sigh. "People can be so unkind." She finished.
"This is true." Warren patted his cousin on the shoulder. "I'll promise to be a gentleman, and not hold the attempted arson of my person against him."
Cheyenne's expression brightened at his lighter tone and she smiled.
"Let's go get changed into our swimwear." His expression turned mischievous. "Then let's hit the roof."
"The roof?" Cheyenne inquired curiously.
"Roof." Warren confirmed, grinning.
Some twenty minutes later saw Cheyenne, clad in her modest forest green one piece suit, standing two doors down from her own. She fidgeted uncomfortably as she waited for Warren, folding her wings over her exposed shoulders. 'Maybe I should have just worn a baggy shirt over. I've got those big sleep shirts that Angela helped me cut the backs on.' The Texan sighed. She had been on the cusp of grabbing one of said shirts, when it occurred to her that Mort would be giving her swimming pointers. 'Curse my vanity.' She thought. 'Being uncomfortable isn't worth impressing a guy, I'm going to go change.'
Before Cheyenne could suit deed to thought, Warren's door opened. "Sorry it took me so long." He apologized. "I was filling our ammunition." He held up a shopping bag full of water balloons.
Cheyenne laughed, comprehending his plan. "Oh, that's devious!"
"Bobby and Kurt are our main targets." Warren informed her with faux seriousness. "They conspired to dye my undershirts a hideous shade of Barbie doll pink the last time I was at the mansion."
"Well, we can't let that slide." Cheyenne grinned, as the two took the path she was used to taking for her rooftop yoga sessions.
"We most certainly can not!" Warren replied gleefully. "I've been waiting for the opportunity to use these."
"They don't have anything in them besides water, do they?" The Texan inquired, eyeing the bag full of balloons as they came onto the roof. The tint in some of the lighter-colored balloons didn't look quite right.
Warren attempted an innocent expression.
At Cheyenne's patient smile and raised eyebrow, he gave up.
"Just a tiny bit of hot pink food dye."
"Tiny?"
"Okay, okay, so I used the whole bottle."
"We're all going to end up pink." Cheyenne predicted amusedly, accepting an armful of Warren's water balloons regardless.
"Lies!" Warren dismissed. "We have the element of surprise." The cousins moved to the side of the roof overlooking the pool. Down below, Bobby was visible touching up a large ice slide over the pool. "One target acquired." Warren crooned with all the menace of a Bond villain.
Cheyenne squinted. "Is that Kurt over by Lana, or is that Beast?"
Warren shaded a hand over his eyes and squinted. "That's Kurt." He confirmed. "I can see his tail."
Cheyenne caught sight of a green shape squatting at the edge of the humongous pool and her heart skipped a beat.
"You ready?"
Cheyenne shifted her gaze to her cousin's blue eyes and nodded. "Let's do it." She smiled.
"Atta girl!" Warren praised. "You take Kurt and I'll get Bobby."
With no hesitation, Warren leaped from the roof. Cheyenne followed a heartbeat later. The familiar thrill of her wings beating in the air sang to her, and a happy laugh bubbled in her throat as Warren circled around her with a grin on his face. She returned the favor, and then the two cousins streaked in separate directions.
"My masterpiece is -BLAH!" Bobby sputtered as a water balloon hit him square in the mouth.
The distraction was sufficient for Cheyenne to hit Kurt directly on his blue fuzzy chest.
"GAH!" Nightcrawler ported in his surprise.
"WARREN!" Bobby shook his fist, pink dye all over his face, chest and the surrounding ice.
"Cheyenne!" Warren shouted. "Switch!"
Deftly, Cheyenne turned in midair and proceeded to unload a barrage on Bobby from behind. The Iceman yelped as he was painted pink.
"Really, Myth?!" Bobby yelled, gesturing at himself and the surrounding ice.
Boom Boom was rolling on the tile surrounding the pool in laughter, slapping the ground.
"I think you look very fetching in pink, Bobby!" Cheyenne shouted cheerfully.
Forge guffawed from his spot next to Tabby, bent over and slapping his knees.
Kurt and Warren were now engaged in a midair tussle, and both were looking rather pink - or in Kurt's case, purple.
Kids and adults alike watched in fascinated amusement. Beast ushered Storm away from the resultant spray, making Storm chuckle as he muttered. "I'm not getting my fur dyed ever again."
Professor Xavier was watching the activity with a smile, amused. Wolverine, standing nearby getting the grill set up, was snickering around his cigar.
A familiar chuckle caught Cheyenne's sensitive hearing and her eyes immediately tracked the noise. Mort, laughing from where he squatted, toad-like, at the edge of the water filled her eyes. Her heart skipped a beat again and an idea presented itself to her mind. Now focused, the Texan ignored the good-natured battle between Angel and Nightcrawler and zoomed towards the green-skinned mutant with a few powerful beats of her wings.
Toad's breath caught in his throat as Myth flew towards him; the mischievous expression set his blood fizzing and an eager smirk pulled his lips as he braced for impact. All he felt was the whoosh of air accompanying her flight, and the brief whisper of fingers along his face as Myth pulled his bandana free.
She hovered in midair ten feet or so above him, teasingly waving his bandana plastered with the English flag.
A smirk tugged up the corners of Toad's mouth as he pushed off with his powerful legs. He leapt easily to where Cheyenne hovered, and shot his arm around the Texan's waist. Unable to stay airborne with the added weight, Myth's wings faltered and the pair fell. Toad angled them towards the pool and Cheyenne, catching his intention, shrieked. The Texan threw her arms and legs around Mort while her wings beat futilely.
They hit the water with a splash that had all of the kids cheering. They came up smoothly, with Mort easily paddling on his back.
Cheyenne opened her eyes, which she had instinctively closed, and her muscles relaxed. She sat up. Mort, who had been relishing the feel of Myth clinging to him, mourned the loss of contact. Then he took in the picture of the Texan straddling his lap, water sheeting from her emerald wings, extended ever so slightly to help her balance, and re-evaluated his opinion. The one-piece bathing suit was considerably more modest than the bikini of his daydreams, but he knew without a doubt that the image of her in it, a smile lighting her eyes as she playfully smacked his chest with his now soaking bandana, would haunt his dreams.
"I suppose I asked for that." Cheyenne laughed, giddy at the adrenaline rush and feeling delightfully dizzy at the near proximity of their bodies.
"You certainly did, princess."
The depth of Mort's tone, combined with the intensity of his tone, stole Cheyenne's breath. A blush suffused her face as she fully comprehended she was straddling Mort's lap like a pool float.
The Texan was saved from having to reply when an ice slide zoomed parallel to their position, and Myth was snatched up by Iceman.
"Bobby!" Cheyenne protested, giggling breathlessly as the ice-controlling mutant proceeded to give her a big old hug and cover her in pink dye.
"Payback!" Bobby chortled, rubbing his pink-dripping face against her exposed skin.
The pool games devolved at this point into a game of tag and chase as those covered in pink attempted to spread the dye to their neighbors.
Remy and Rogue, fashionably late to the festivities, walked up to the chairs furthest from the action and sat down, hand in gloved hand.
Kitty, giggling madly as she phased away from Piotr's pink hands, was the first to notice.
She skidded to a stop, and squealed loudly. Piotr paused in the act of laying his hands on his girlfriend's shoulders. "Rogue!" Her shout was enough to attract the attention of everyone present.
"Yes Kitty?" Rogue inquired calmly, emerald eyes sparkling impishly.
In response, Kitty pointed at where Rogue's hand was joined with Remy's.
Rogue looked down at her hand in mock surprise. "Well, what do yah know? Ah'm holding hands with mah boyfriend."
The combined shrieking of Jubilee, Tabby, Kitty and several of the girls had Logan and Cheyenne wincing. Remy, reveling in the chaos and catching Logan's wince, cackled in amusement.
"Enjoying yourself, swamp rat?" Rogue asked, amused.
"With yo', ma chere, always." Gambit replied smoothly, kissing the back of her gloved hand.
The shrieks now subsided into coos.
"I'm very happy for the two of you." Professor Xavier said, gracing them with a kind smile. "When did this happen?"
"Today." Gambit announced gleefully, ruby eyes dancing.
Tabby sighed. "Myth wins the pot then."
"About that." Myth began, offering the blonde a sheepish expression.
"Puff was ever so kind as to act as my agent."
Bobby gasped from where he stood next to the winged mutant on his ice slide. "Such trickery!" He gave Cheyenne a look of mock betrayal. "I don't know if I know who you are anymore."
"Sorry." Cheyenne shrugged her arms, and inadvertently wings. "But now we've all helped pay for a nice first date for Rogue and Remy!"
"Awww!" Kitty cooed. "That's so sweet!"
"Yeah, I can't even be mad at that." Jubilee sighed.
"Yeah," Cheyenne smiled at the pair, "I couldn't say no when they asked." She paused and put her hands on her hips. "And don't call me Puff, Gambit!"
"And not just for us." Rogue said, as Gambit merely grinned unrepentantly at the Texan.
Storm smiled sweetly. "I'm afraid I was also in the know."
"You knew this juicy gossip and you didn't tell me?!" Forge clasped a hand to his heart.
"Because you can not keep a secret to save your life." Storm replied dryly.
Forge pouted, and Tabby patted him consolingly on the back.
"Remy was so kind as to offer me a set of tickets to the classic film festival." She tilted her head at Hank, who froze like a deer in headlights. "Would you like to accompany me, Hank?"
"I-ah-that is- yes!" Beast stuttered. "Most assuredly!"
Storm took his hand and Beast smiled dumbly, looking as if someone had taken a blunt object and knocked him upside the head with it.
"Looks like you owe me some beer, Gumbo." Logan commented, removing the cigar from his mouth.
"Alas, mon ami, yo' are a day shy so I'm afraid neither o' us wins our little wager."
In response to this, Logan growled. Then a calm, collected smile came to his face. Without breaking eye contact with Gambit, he easily popped a his claws and sliced through a small red bottle resting among several others on the grill's side tray. He then proceeded to casually toss the remains behind him, scattering red powder briefly in the air.
Gambit made a strangled noise. "I ordered dat special from Louisiana!" Then a dangerous smile crossed his face. "Cherie?"
"Yeah, sugah?"
"Seek higher ground!" Remy instructed dramatically, rising to his feet and pointing at the Canadian mutant. "War has jus' been declared!"