When Betsy and Emma entered the holding area, Jean walked right up to the White Queen and shot her in the foot.
"Ow, dammit Jean, what the hell was that for?" Emma shouted while hobbling on one foot.
"That was for getting me shot several times a few minutes ago. 007 my ass. And now we are even."
"We better be. I have been shot more times by my own team tonight than by the Justice League." Emma grumbled.
"So we are outmatched by Helena and Dinah in straight up paintball. If we can win this round, they shouldn't be much competition once we can use our mutant abilities." Betsy stated.
"How do we want to play this?" Ororo asked.
Emma answered, "First of all, we need to spread out. And no more talking out loud. Telepathy is the way to go."
Jean nodded then realized what Emma had just said. "No telepathy is allowed this round."
"Darling, they won't know we are using it. Not one of them can read minds."
"That's cheating Emma." Jean sighed.
"So what? You want to win right?"
"Not everything is a serious competition. It's a friendly game of paintball with our new friends." Jean chided.
"Friendly, huh? Is that why I just got shot in the foot?"
"NO, you got shot in the foot because you are a…terd. You are a terd Emma."
"Does that mean we get to call her the Brown Queen now?" Betsy laughed.
Emma's eyes narrowed. "See how far you get with that Barney."
Ororo stepped in between them. "This is supposed to be fun, so let's relax. We'll split up, and hopefully we can get lucky. Just enjoy it."
"I am not enjoying my toe throbbing right now." Emma muttered.
Jean felt a small pang of guilt, but then it quickly passed as her body was aching from the multiple shots she had taken. "I am going to have bruises on my chest from this damn game, so quit whining about your toe."
Emma mentally projected, 'Want me to kiss them and make them better?'
'Try it and get shot again woman!' Jean tossed back.
Emma laughed and hobbled to the door. "Ok, no cheating, and no sacrificing each other to win. I still say they'd never know about the telepathy, but since you are all spoil sports, how do you want to do this?" The other women shrugged their shoulders. Emma sighed, "Glad this is just a game, otherwise we'd be in serious trouble in a real fight with no mutant powers."
"I hardly think Magneto will be shooting at us with paint balls after drinking at a bar." Betsy laughed.
The women chuckled at the thought, and then slowly entered the next room.
The next morning she woke up tangled in the other woman's limbs. The sun was peeking through the room's curtains, and her head was pounding furiously. She moved her companion's body off of hers, careful not to wake the other woman who was snoring softly. She chuckled and picked herself up out of the bed. Stumblng into the bathroom she groped for the light switch. The light in the bathroom was not friendly either. Looking at herself in the mirror the only adjective that came to her mind was, "wreck." She was covered head to toe in paint splatter on the clothes she had worn the night before. Her hair looked like she had been in a wind tunnel, and she felt like shit overall.
"God, I look like hell." she muttered to herself. After using the facilities, she decided to shower and change her clothes. She turned on the water in the bathtub and waited for it to warm up. She leaned against the shower wall, and let the water run off of her body. She kept her eyes closed most of the time, silently wishing she had turned off the light in the bathroom before entering the shower. Once she was done, she was going to figure out how to effectively block the sun from entering the room, and would curl back up next to her bed buddy. She's so beautiful when she is sleeping, but then again, she's beautiful all the time. While lost in a particularly naughty daydream she dropped the soap in the shower. Bending over, she went to retrieve it, and stopped suddenly. Her eyes blinked a few times, and then shock registered. Immediately she stood straight up. I must be hallucinating. This has to be the worst hangover ever. She leaned over again and went to grab the soap. Nope, definitely not hallucinating. Oh my God.
She grabbed the soap and tossed it in the little holder on the wall. Quickly she shut off the shower, grabbed a towel and ran dripping wet into the bedroom. She leaned over the bed to make sure her companion was still sleeping. As delicately as she could, she peeled back the covers slightly, searching for…Oh God. She pinched herself. Nope, that didn't work. She pinched herself again just to be sure. Shit. I am awake. This isn't some weird dream. She backed away from the bed, feeling every bit of panic mixing with the headache that was making her brain hurt. This is not possible…
Her eyes instantly darted around the room. On the night stand on her side of the bed was a small album. Scooping it up, she opened it, and everything she was thinking had happened that night was confirmed. There she was, holding photographic evidence of the previous night's event. On the left side of the album was a picture of them smiling. On the right side of the album was a plastic insert holding their wedding certificate. "Holy shit," she mumbled. "I'm a married woman!"
A/N: Cliffhanger...hehehehe.