She's just standing there, breathing heavily, holding a sword in one hand, hair fluttering over her eyes. Iron Man is just staring at her and the X-Men are all giving little smug looks of 'hah, you underestimated her'. Even I was surprised when she got out of the straps they had her in, teleported over to the mantelpiece, snatched up an ornamental sword and a handful of marbles and proceeded to dispatch everyone. Most were concussed by low flying marbles, others met with the hilt of the blade between their eyes. She grins at us.
"One moment…"
The next thing I know, she's taking a great deal of photos of us all hanging there in manacles.
"Just so you aren't tempted to take the responsibility yourselves."
What she does next amazes me. She walks over to Logan and smiles.
"Close your eyes."
He does and suddenly Etana twists his wrist, sending the claws out and tugging it so the chains are cut away.
"Okay?"
"Yeah. What were you doing? Felt like you were pulling my arm out."
"Pulling your arm out. Let's go rescue the others."
She walks over to me and carefully removes a lockpick.
"Why didn't you use that for Logan?"
"No lock in the manacles, solid metal."
She carefully unpicks the lock then heads over to Storm. She looks beautiful, alive, when she's in a combat situation. Storm soon joins in the unpicking of locks and Etana grins and throws me a lockpick.
"I better start corrupting you Captain. I'll take this arm, you take the other, I'll explain."
Tony goes slightly pale but relaxes when his left gauntlet falls down and Etana hops over to my side.
"No, no, no! Twist, apply pressure… Like so."
Her hands, gloveless, rest on mine and she guides my hands.
"Feel the change in the lock? That means you're almost there. Now…!"
The manacle falls open and Etana grins.
"We'll have you picking locks like a professional in no time."
And I laugh and hug her then see a little joking glint in her eyes.
"What?"
"You're hopeless, Discus-Boy."
Logan drops a heavy-looking sword he was sizing up for a tiny girl with black hair codenamed Verity.
"Etana?! Discus-Boy?!"
I glance at her then consider. Logan obviously knows Etana loves someone called 'Discus-Boy' as he told me he heard her arguing with me at Jean and Scott's wedding. And I make a decision and lower my head the two inches difference between us and just look in her eyes. She inclines her head minutely and I move the few centimetres distance between us so her lips are pressed to mine. It's not a long kiss; chaste and with a great deal of feeling behind it, but when I break it off, everyone is looking at me as if I had just pulled my pants down. I feel my ears go red but Etana, who I swear isn't embarrassed by anything, just laughs.
"Oh please tell me somebody had worked it out!"
Silence. She laughs again then pulls me in for another kiss, this time deeper and probing. She tastes of citrus and olives and sandalwood and iron. Why did she choose me?
