The Warrior with No Name
By The Odd Little Turtle Named Froggie
(AU Character study while I'm going through writer's block on my Tomb Raider fic. No continuity- AT ALL.
If Marvel made them up, that's who they belong to. I made some up too. Story's strictly for fun. Inspired by a few fics floating around ff dot net, Christine Feehan's Predatory Game, and my intense love for Colossus and Shadowcat. Spreading the love.
Be aware that I'm experimenting with tenses and points of view. I would appreciate some input.)
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Journal Entry: April 3rd
I named my new friend Mikhail, after my eldest brother. I found out a few days after I had found the cat that I should have named her after my little sister. But by that time, I was already used to Mikhail, so my female black kitten with lively green eyes remained Mikhail. I also found out that she was malnourished and too young to be without her mother. The veterinarian, Dr. Leslie Graves, gave me instructions on how to tend to the baby and later that week the good doctor and I went for a movie and sex.
I switched veterinarians after that. I still get reminders for Mikhail's shots from Dr. Graves' office even two years after the fact. Strange world, isn't it?
I found another stray last night. I don't know why I took her in. Perhaps I was reminded of the soaked helpless kitten in the cardboard box so many nights ago…
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"What?" Kitty Pryde blinked incredulously at the man sitting next to her, a lecherous grin on his face. As calmly as she could, she leaned forward, stretching the seatbelt across her chest resting her elbow on her knee, her elfin chin in her palm. "I don't think I heard you right."
Her date, one Wally Corburn, licked his lips. He enjoyed the fact that she was so small compared to him. So young and innocent. Full control of this one. He was sure. "Oh, you heard me alright. It's time to pay up."
"Pay up?" she squeaked. She leaned back against the plush neon blue seat. Kitty didn't think their date had cost that much. The food was barely edible and beer had definitely been warm. Ew. "With sex?" Double ew. Kitty pressed her lips together in anger, resisting the urge to use her several centuries of cumulative martial arts knowledge on Wally the Worm.
"That's right. I spent good money on you tonight."
An eyebrow raised in amused contempt. "Good money? I sincerely doubt it was anything but good. And I have no idea on what you spent one hundred dollars—"
"One hundred twenty-five," Wally supplied, hotly, staring into her gold-flecked brown eyes. He'd never seen eyes quite like hers. Not truly brown, not truly green, they were unusual, compelling and magnetic. She was petite and flowerlike. He'd been waiting all night to drag her small body close to his much larger frame and kiss her soundly. With a whole lot of tongue.
Kitty's eyes narrowed, waging war with his gray ones. "My mistake. I definitely have no idea on what you spent one hundred and twenty-five dollars since your choice of a restaurant is nothing more than a truck stop."
"Truck stop?" Wally looked as though she had killed his dog. "I will have you know that Marta's is one of the best places—"
"Yeah, yeah," Kitty cut him off by raising a delicate hand. "And serves food that's anything but Kosher. But I digress. Let me get a few things straight. I seem to be confused. You believe that since you went out of your way to take me on a date and spend one hundred twenty-five dollars during this date, you are entitled for me to sleep with you?"
"Damn right I am." Wally wondered why she was making such a fuss. He was doing her a favor. She should be grateful the attention. She was too skinny and too tiny. And she was nothing but a tease.
"Uh, huh," Kitty willed patience into her voice. She tapped out a rhythm with a long polished fingernail against the armrest, the only indication she was agitated. Her face she kept neutral. "And you're saying if I don't sleep with you—" She forced a smile. "—right here, right now at—" She looked at the oversized wrist watch on her delicate wrist. "—two-thirty in the morning, it's your intention to dump me out in the pouring rain?"
"You got it, sweet cheeks." The lecherous grin was back as he slid his hand along the back of her seat, his fingers not quite touching her, getting close enough to her face to have a closer look into those mysterious eyes of hers. "Don't you think you should be reasonable about this?" He made sure not to touch her just yet. Usually he was doing more touching, loving the power over he had over his women. But there was something about this young, innocent, lost-looking waif that made him check himself. Maybe it was her eyes, the haunted look in them, the warning in them. He would go slower with this one, be more cautious with Kitty. He was sure that she would sit right there when he made his move though, when he forced his mouth on hers and tore open her blouse, took what he wanted. He wanted to hear her plead not to leave her there in the middle of nowhere, in the rain. Wanted to feel his skin on hers in a primal, carnal way.
White hot fury singed the corners of Kitty's vision. She drew in a calming breath before she lost all control and left him bloody and choking on his own vomit. X-men didn't kill. Damn it! She knew she would be doing New York women a favor. "Not happening. I'd rather take on Magneto or the Brood
than sleep with you." She slipped out of his sportscar, getting instantly drenched. "You're a rotten date, Wally--you smell like the East River and your comb-over is laughable."
"You're making a mistake," he called, furious that his plan didn't work. How dare she talk to him like she was a queen and he was her servant. Kitty's fingers itched to let him know who had made the mistake. "You're in the Bronx, Kitty. Drug dealers, deadbeats, drunks. You shouldn't stay here."
"I'm sure it's a lot better company, Wally." She slammed the door closed.
"You're gonna to be sorry!" he snapped, not understanding why this wasn't going the way he wanted it to. "This is your last chance! You think I want to have sex with you? You're no walk in the park, y'know. This is just a pity fuck."
"Hmm," Kitty said, pretending to think about it. "How tempting, Wally." She pretended to weigh it in her hands. "Sex with you or getting stuck in the Bronx. Did that work with some scared teenager? It's not really working for me. Frankly, I could care less what you do." She sincerely hoped that it didn't work on anybody. To wring this guy's neck would be so rewarding.
"You're going to be so sorry," Wally warned again.
"Oh, no Wally," she told him. She slid her molecules right through the door and grabbed her purse. "I think you're the one who's sorry. You aren't dealing with someone who scares easily."
Wally's eyes widened. He swore creatively and screeched away, fishtailing and nearly crashing into a parked car up the street. Kitty was left alone in rain, standing in the middle of the empty street.
She stomped her foot angrily. "Great." She lifted the heavy mass of saturated curls off her shoulders. "Y'know, Pryde, for being such a genius, getting out of the car was not the brightest thing you've ever done."
"It was very smart," a male voice said from behind her on the sidewalk. Several centuries of cumulative martial arts or not, Kitty had not heard anyone come up behind her. She squeaked and jumped involuntarily, dropping immediately into a fighting stance. There, under an umbrella that barely kept him dry, stood the dark figure of a man, big and powerful.
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(Interested in any comments you may have. Not sure how I pulled off the characterizations. More coming. Not sure where this is going though, so it may not go much further.)