After a long talk with my step dad and a few murmured words on my part, my biological birth parents decided they wanted to meet me. Well, that was obvious, but... Everything seemed to be going way too fast.
So I was standing here, in a stuffy old Chinese restaurant, urging myself to walk inside. Because, frankly, the rest of my body felt perfectly content to mimic a statue. A stone statue. A very heavy stone statue.
"Just one foot in front of the other," I sang to myself quietly, inching forward like a baby, "And soon you'll be walking cross the floor! Just one foot in front of the other, and soon you'll be walking out the door!"
I made it in. I looked around the abandoned restaurant to see an old woman peeling those white and yellow string bean things and a relatively young couple talking to each other and looking as if they were waiting for someone.
I wonder which ones are my parents?
"Oh, hell no." I blurted out as soon as I stood a few feet away from them and saw the lack of wrinkles on their faces.
The man had shaggy brown hair casually tossed back and bright amber eyes that reminded me of fire who resembled a movie star in the fact that he looked effortlessly gorgeous. Yes. I'm saying that about the man who I think is my father. In fact, they both looked like movie stars.
The woman was gorgeous, and I say that in a completely straight non-incest way. She had chin length black hair and wine red lips with bright blue eyes, looking more striking than any portrait could ever capture.
At least they both had rings on their fingers.
"Please tell me you're not Wanda and John Allerdyce."
"Nice to finally see you too, wonderful daughter of mine." John said sarcastically, "And watch your fucking language until you're a senior, freshman."
Wanda slapped her husband and smiled, "What he means is watch your fucking language until college. Now sit down."
I cautiously took a seat in the booth across from them and looked warily at the two of them.
"And just how old are you?
"Thirty three." They both answered in unison.
"I'm fourteen! You had me when you were nineteen?"
"Hey, my baby's smart!" John said proudly.
"Unlike you." Wanda muttered under her breath before feeling the need to explain her getting knocked up, "It wasn't really planned at the time."
"Hey, you're as old as my dad." I breathed out, little tiny puzzle pieces sticking together in my head.
"Iceballs." He said, all the happiness leaving him. "Him and Kitty Cat finally hit the bucket, huh?"
"Please excuse my sorry excuse for a husband. He had a hate love relationship with Bobby." She waved her hands as if brushing away whatever problem she had with it and took a sip of her water.
"Fire against water." He grumbled.
"In the form of best friends." Wanda scoffed, "It's too bad he died before you two could make up."
In a fire that I never said I started. Ever. Except to Warren.
"Um..." I mumbled.
"Sorry." Wanda said with a sigh, "I just always hoped you'd get my powers."
"What are your powers?"
"I can alter probability."
"Nyeh?" I asked, cocking my head to the side.
"I access chaos magic."
"Simply put, please?"
"She makes impossible things happen." John answered, taking over for his wife.
"Like what?" I asked, a feeling of dread coming over me.
"Well, if I focus, I can cut off someone's ability to access their powers, bend lamp posts, and possess a broom to wipe the floor for me.
"Um, can you..." I bit my lip, lowering my eyes to my glass of water, "Melt shoes to the floor? Just by thinking of it?"
"With a flick of my wrist, a man's shoes would be stuck to the floor and his pants would be dancing the conga around him. When I was younger and my powers were still maturing, lights would explode out of nowhere. Why?"
"No reason. Just wondering."
"I sound so boring next to you." John pouted.
"Don't worry, honey, we all know you don't wear the pants in the relationship." John grimaced at the low shot and I cocked my head to the side. Did he swing both ways or something?
Wanda smirked.
John paled.
"Hey, have you ever heard of Joan D. Sether?"
"Yeah, she's this famous Gothic romance novelist with an obsession for fire. No one knows where she came from or who she really is, but she's been releasing novels on and off for the last fifteen years. A bit graphic but still a good read." I looked at the blushing man and the smirking woman, "Oh hell no."
"Is that your catch phrase or something?" John grumbled irritably.
"Tonight it is. Oh my god, my daddy's a female novelist. What, did you take some letters from your name and rearrange them so you could write hot steamy Gothic novels?" Wow, I was right on the dot. Men aren't so creative, yet they can write things like...
"You're not allowed to read things like that."
"Why, shouldn't I read my daddy's work?" Wanda cracked up just in time for the waiter to come take our orders.
The waiter was Warren Peace.
"Oh hell no."
"If you're going to swear, you might as well say fuck, sweetie." Wanda sighed, and it was John's turn to do the slapping.
Water from his glass just happened to spray his eyes as he tried to drink it.
"Sorry, honey."
"Damn straight you are. Never hit your woman."
"Aren't you all about gender equality? How come you hit me and I can't hit you back?"
"You're saying you want to hurt me?"
"No, of course not!" Wanda rolled her eyes and with a twitch of her finger John's hair was immediately in two bows at either side of his head.
"You're a girl now, it's safe to hit me." John rolled his eyes this time and ripped the bows out of his hair, shaking his head like a dog to return it to it's normal state of horror.
Warren watched this obvious display of power with a raised eyebrow before turning to me, the embarrassed teenager, with his raised eyebrow.
"Are you three ready to order?"
"Chow mein."
"Kung Pao chicken."
"Sweet and sour pork, and can I get a jug of warm sake?"
"Emily!" Both my "parents" shouted at once.
"Fine, fine, have the warm sake in a shot glass, but keep them coming, Peace." Warren shook his head and walked away.
"You're not in a bar, save the underage drinking for when we're not here." Wanda glared at John, "I mean never. Not until you're twice as old as we are."
"But that'll never happen unless you two stay that old forever."
"Are you calling me old?" Wanda asked.
"God, y'all are crazy."
"Oh god, my daughter's a country hick. Quick, test if you can still touch her. I don't want another Rogue on my hands." John said quickly, patting my cheek.
I swatted his hand away and found myself laughing even though I had no clue what he was talking about.
"So, for a pyrokinetic you're sure wearing a lot of non firey colors." Wanda surveyed, "I thought our kid would only wear red." I looked at them and noticed, hey, they're both wearing only black and red.
"She was raised by Iceballs." John said as if that were an excuse as to where their child went wrong.
"Uh, well, I don't really like... fire." John fell out of the booth, despite the fact that it was a booth before quickly shaking himself off and sitting down again.
"What?" He asked.
"Well, I didn't really feel all that well about killing my parents with it." I snapped.
"So you decided to change everything about you so you wouldn't be reminded of your parents?" John said as if he knew exactly what I was feeling.
"What's it to you?" I huffed.
"We're your parents, and despite circumstances that kept us away from you for the past fourteen years,"
"Like insane mutant terrorist parents for example. Wanda's side, of course, not mine," John whispered, winking slightly, "And of course, jail."
"We still love you and we do know how to relate to quote unquote young people." She said, lifting her hands to do the airquotes.
"You just made us sound old, honey."
"Then why were you two married if you didn't want kids?" I asked, referring to our first conversation, "Let me guess, it was a fun idea at the time."
"We weren't married at the time." Wanda explained.
"We were two stupid kids in love who weren't prepared for having a child."
"Well, we wanted a kid."
"Or atleast she did." Wanda glared, "Okay I did too, but you try having Magneto as your father in law."
"Not to mention the fact that we were kind of terrorists in the eyes of the law and were arrested right when we found out we were going to have you."
"You were better off with the X-Men." So Mr. Sparrow was right.
"I thought you were with the Brotherhood, not the X-Men."
"We were, but we got out last minute and made amends with the leather supporters." John smirked.
"And despite us basically saving the world, we were still arrested. Everyone in the Brotherhood, past or present, was shoved in jail. Like the government just didn't want anything to do with us."
"It was embarrassing, actually."
"Then, once the 'bad guys' were gone, this idiot Captain America wannabe and his perky little sidekick, fresh out of this high school who wanted to cash in on Xavier's overflowing jackpot made only for the finest of mutants, started saving kittens from trees and all this crap and the world quickly turned into the stereotypical comic book, categorizing people as either good or evil." Wanda explained and I nodded my head.
Wow, her words were so true. Screw Fiona Apple, this woman was my new role model.
"Wait. You were arrested?" Well, I already knew that, but I just had to verify.
"Yup. Just got out a few months ago on good behavior. And Xavier's pay check. He always did try and spoil me." Wanda smiled from some distant memory.
"But.. You said that was right after you found out."
"Ah, our baby's a smart one." John smiled a bit.
"Obviously she didn't get it from you."
"So I was born in a jail?" I feel... tainted for some reason. Probably because I was born surrounded by angry thugs with numerous tattoos devoted to their mothers.
"It looks just like a hospital from the inside, sweetie."
"Food's ready." Warren placed my parents food in front of them, "I'll be right back with your food, Perkins."
Wanda watched the boy walk away with a smirk.
"So, he's pretty cute." She probably just wanted to change the subject.
"Wanda!" I said, shocked. I couldn't say mom yet.
"What? And he seems to know you."
"We go to school together."
"I can't believe you're part of that stereotypical hell hole. Not as good as the Institute. Our gym teacher didn't wear shorts, thank you." John said, digging into his noodles while Wanda waited for her daughter to get her meal, like a polite person.
"Yeah, you should see that hunk of immortal adamantium clawed yumminess. I wish he would wear shorts."
John glared, Wanda smirked, and I needed to get off the subject of 'yummy' gym teachers.
"Yes, I go to Sky High. What's the Institute?"
"The place where the X-Men came from."
"What's his power?" Wanda asked suddenly, nodding towards wherever Warren was.
"He's a flame thrower."
"Wow, a perfect match." Wanda said sarcastically, but still with a huge smirk.
Warren appeared again and I dug in immediately with a blush, but not before noticing something, "Where's the stuff I can get hammered off of?"
"I'm not letting you get drunk." Warren said with a sigh, "Drink the water and hope that it'll magically turn into beer."
"Responsible and cute," Wanda gushed fondly as John choked on his food, "Sit down." Wanda said as more of a demand then a request.
Warren looked around, noticed absolutely no one in the restaurant, and sighed, sitting down next to me. I blushed and scooted as far away as possible, focusing on my food and not the embarrassing conversation that was bound to happen.
"So, I'm Emily's mother."
"Okay." Warren said, frowning a little at how young she looked. Were they resurrected?
"And I couldn't help but notice how you stared at my daughter's breasts whenever you came to the table." I blushed and hit my head on the wall next to me while John just settled for glaring at Warren at that newfound information, "And I can't blame you, I guess she takes after me."
"No, I got my boobs from my father." I groaned sarcastically in between hits.
Warren, surprisingly taking this all well, yanked on my arm to prevent me from reaching the wall.
I pouted and crossed my arms, frowning. A lot.
"You're a cruel mom. I just met you and already you're as embarrassing as the old man at home. Only you're the opposite." It's like she wants me to have unprotected sex, contract AIDS, and die from all sicknesses at once.
"So, either you're lusting after my daughter, or you have actual romantic feelings for my daughter along with lust. Judging from how you stopped her from bashing her head in, I guess it's the second choice. That and you look too sweet to just be some horny teenager. Which is fine by me, just wait to knock her up. You might have to give her up for adoption and get married surrounded by your cellmates." Okay, bad. Bad. Bad. Bad.
"Wanda, we're just friends. I can't help it if my shirt's low cut."
"Actually-"
"Warren, shut up." I elbowed him. Was he about to say something about how I had a choice to dress like a hooker or not? I don't dress like a hooker. I dress like a conservative slut. Not that I am either. Or am I?
"Doesn't that remind you of when we were kids?" John said, reminiscing.
"You would say a smart ass comment and I would hurt you for it?"
"Oh god, my parents are crazy." I turned to the waiter beside me, "I'm sorry, I didn't know you worked here, and I didn't know my parents were insane. I just like chinese food, it's a guilty pleasure."
"Usually people know these things. These are the foster parents you were talking about? I thought they were old. And dying."
"We're not her foster parents, we're her actual parents." Wanda sniffed.
"Long story." I sighed, "Want some of the food from your own restaurant?"
"No thanks, I already ate." He said, deciding that her parents were indeed resurrected.
"Then why are you still here?" John growled.
"Because I want the two of them to date." Wanda answered for him.
"Have you been talking to Rogue lately?"
"So what if I have?"
"Just checking. Is she still with the Cajun?" Ooh, I love Cajun food. It's all spicy and I love that Jambalaya man's accent on the little box. Although I think it's suburbanized, de-spiced Cajun food, because I still have to add a hell of a lot of pepper.
"Yeah, and he can still beat you up even without using his powers to kinetically castrate you."
"Damn."
I finished my meal, listening to my parent's overall strange conversation and putting in a word here and there. Warren stayed the whole entire time since Wanda always refused to let him go.
God, my parents were strange.
"Aren't you Pyro and the Scarlet Witch?" Warren said suddenly.
"Finally he recognized us." Wanda sighed, "Tell me, was it all the red that gave us away, or was it because I used my powers on him twice to embarrass him and Emily has the power to control fire?" Huh, I could be a flamethrower you know. Just because it's fire related doesn't mean that I have the exact powers as him. Hmph.
"I recognized the name. They did a lecture on you two for History class. Apparently the location of your illegitimate child is a complete mystery since she was taken away at birth."
"Did anyone call me a bastard?" I asked warily.
"No."
"Okay, you have permission not to die."
Author's Note: Yay, she finally met her actual parents.
So, unfortunately, the song that I have been naming all the chapters after (Strange Day - Fade) only has one more line. Or word. So, the story will come to an end extremely soon. But don't worry, there'll be a sequel as soon as I think of a plot.