Author Note - Welcome to part two of Noyoki's Christmas Special! I hope you all have a safe and wonderful holiday no matter what you celebrate or if you celebrate nothing at all. Please enjoy my gift to all my good little readers!
"Some Christmas tree ornaments do more than glitter and glow, they represent a gift of love given a long time ago." ~ Tom Baker
Thin fingers of sunlight inched over the little boy's face, haloing it in brilliant morning light. His button nose wrinkled, and Malcom turned to hide away from the brightness, nearly slipping back down into sleep before memory stirred. "It's Christmas!" He leapt out of bed as if struck by a live-wire and dove over to the window. A brilliant grin dashed across his face as he stared out at the white in pure childish delight.
Everything was covered in a thick, fluffy layer of snow. The clouds that had delivered the load were gone now, leaving the sky a brilliant blue, allowing the early morning sunlight to turn everything it touched into rainbows of glitter. The whole world sparkled. "So pretty," the boy whispered before scampering over to his closet, nearly tripping in his haste to get out of his pajamas and throw on some proper winter clothes since he knew Kitty would get grumbly if he tried to go out with just his jammies on.
Four minutes later, he was thumping down the stairs with reckless abandon, his momentum the only thing keeping him from going down head over heels. A giddy giggle burst from his throat after he flung open the door and got blasted in the face with crystal laden air, the delicious chill of winter washed over him. So completely different from the soggy, rainy air of the last couple weeks.
Without the slightest hesitation, Malcom plunged out into the snow and made his way out into the front courtyard. His bell-like laughter of delight sang through the morning when he spotted the carefully labeled bowls he and Kitty put out for each reindeer. Dasher, and Dancer, Prancer and Vixen, Comet and Cupid, Donner and Blitzen. And Rudolph of course!
The snow here was churned up with cloven hoof prints. The bowls were empty, with little crumbs of oats and dry berries scattered around. Two long lines, sleigh tracks, he thought with another giddy laugh scored through the snow right up to the bowls. Perfect.
"Ah there you are, you left the door open silly boy." Kitty's unexpected voice made him jump and whirl around, a massive grin splitting his face and showing his two missing bottom teeth.
"Look! Look Kitty, look. They came!"
Kitty grinned before picking the excited boy up, "Yep, they did. Looks like your mix was perfect. They gobbled it up, didn't they?"
"Yeah!"
"Speaking of gobbling, let's gobble some breakfast."
Malcom gave an unhappy little wiggle at that. "Nu huh, I wanna play in the snow. I even put my mitties on." He held up his mittened hands to show her.
Much to his disappointment, Kitty shook her head. "Nope, not yet. We'll play after breakfast. Don't worry, Zen's cooking so you're going to absolutely love it. Something new today." Remembering Zen's smashing pancakes when they'd come back to the mansion made Malcom give a much stronger wiggle. One the girl couldn't resist. He slithered out of her arms and ran towards the kitchen with Kitty chasing after him.
"Malcom wait, take your snow shoes off first. We don't need you tracking snow all over the place."
Before long, they along with the rest of the school's inhabitants made it to the kitchen where Zen had outdone himself. Malcom gave a surprised giggle when he saw the stoic teen, a white apron over his normal dark clothes. It was covered in red hearts and had something written across the front. The little boy focused and carefully sounded out the words. "K-i-s-s the, I know the c-o-o-k. Kiss the cock?"
Maclom looked up when Kitty made a weird sputtering sound, his eyes bright with curiosity. "Cook! Not...not, that. It's kiss the cook," she said, her voice high and squeaky with utter mortification.
"Oh. Okay. Should we go kiss him now?"
That pulled a burst of laughter from Kitty. "No, I don't think he'd like that."
"Why not?"
"Because," she hesitated, a tiny frown on her lips. "He doesn't like kisses and stuff."
"Like Rogue?"
"Kinda, yeah. Like Rogue."
Zen looked over at her with that grumpy look he got sometimes around Kitty but Malcom knew it wasn't real. More like his Grammy's cat Marlo, the gray one. She might growl and put her ears down, but what she truly wanted was her ears scratched. Zen was a lot like her, looking mean but was really nice once you got to know him.
"Okay, over here," Kitty led the way to a long table set up buffet-style. There were plates piled high with what looked like the burrito wrappers and bowls of all sorts of yummy things. "Do you want sweet or savory?"
Malcom frowned over the unknown word. "Savy?"
"Sa-vo-ry, that means sort of like an omelet, eggs and meat, and cheese. Sweet would be fruits, jams, and chocolate." His eyes lit up at the last word and Kitty chuckled. "Should have known. Okay champ, what do you want, just point and I'll load them up for you."
In the end, he ended up with one Nutella, cream, and strawberry, and another with lemon, cream and powdered sugar. "Great choices, let's add a few slices of bacon and get to eating!"
"Yeah! Then snow, right Kitty? Right?"
"Right."
While the girl explained, the rest of the students and staff began filtering in, filling their plates with Zen's hard work. Malcom couldn't stop smiling as he watched. Even the kids who didn't really like Zen loved his cooking, it made Malcom happy to see everyone so pleased. Much better than the frowny-faces and worried eyes at the cabins.
"This is going to be the best Christmas ever."
"Yes it is," Kitty chirped with agreement, a slightly manic look in her eyes that said it better be or else.
Rogue rolled her eyes as she watched Kitty round everyone up as if she were a sheep dog and they her flock. With little nips of encouragement, the short girl all but bullied them into winter gear before shepherding them out into the snow-filled morning.
"She's really going overboard on all this, isn't she?" Bobby's laughing voice made Rogue jump in surprise before she gave a soft huff of agreement. Sometime over the last month or so, they'd settled into an awkward sort of friendship after the breakup. Rogue found it was easier this way. It felt more natural to be his friend and she didn't hold any ill-will over the failed relationship. It was nice while it lasted, but she thought their friendship would last far longer than their rather pitiable and doomed relationship had.
"Yeah, still surprised her and Zen of all people put this whole thing together. Did you see that apron?" Heat stung her cheeks at the rather awkward memory of the kiss she'd forced on him when she realized she could touch him. Not her best moment, that was for sure.
Bobby grunted and rolled his eyes at that, and she realized he was thinking of the same moment which made her face burn all the hotter. "So who was better, him or me?"
Her jaw dropped at that and she sputtered in indignation, even as the memories of his brief kisses filled her mind. That, and the fact that she'd nearly killed him both times. Shame damped down the embarrassment like a bucket of ice water. "Well, he didn't almost die when I kissed him, so point in his favor." Bobby's face drooped at that. "But, kissing him was a lot like kissing a cold fish. He totally wasn't into it. So at least you wanted to kiss me, risks and all."
For a moment she hesitated, then reached out and twined her gloved fingers with his. "I never thanked you for that, or apologized. I'm sorry, I never wanted to hurt you but also thank you. Thank you for being my first real kiss after it all went to hell."
Bobby's face softened and he gave a gentle tug, pulling her into his arms for a tight hug. "No need to apologize, I'm the one who started it, and you're welcome. Sorry it didn't work out better in the end," he said gruffly into her hair.
"Come on you love birds, time to make some snowmen!" Pietro's taunting words jerked the two apart, both spun to glare at the speed mutant who looked entirely unbothered by their ire.
"Snowmen?" Rogue asked, eyebrow raised. She would have thought him a total shoe-in for the snowball fight.
Pietro gave a dramatic sigh. "Kitty said no, said I had an 'unfair advantage' and that she didn't trust me to use my powers for good."
Considering Zen was part of the snowball group, Rogue could understand Kitty's reluctance. The poor ex-assassin would have been battered to bits in the space of thirty seconds. "Right," she snorted before marching off into the field of pristine white snow. Kitty was already stomping a line into the courtyard, splitting it in half. On one side was the snowball battlefield, kids were already scrambling to build fortifications. Yeah, not going to happen, not for me. Rogue had no interest in being pelted in the face with balls of snow.
The other side of the field was dedicated to the snowman building contest. "Alright, let's do this."
Hours bled away, children laughed, shouted, and fought on one side while they chatted, huffed, and worked on the other. Rogue stepped back and looked her masterpiece over with a critical eye. Instead of going the traditional snowman route, she'd decided to go rogue and make a white snow raven. Truth be told, it looked more like a chonky owl than a raven, but still! Creativity is what counts, right? Right.
Nerves made her itch as she shuffled from foot to foot while Beast of all people hmmed and jotted down notes while he looked her creation over before moving on to the next. Curse his fuzzy unreadable face. He gave nothing away on what he thought, and now she had to wait until he was done judging the other eight offerings. Those were all variations on humans, so hers truly stood out among the rest, even if the wings on Pietro's snow angel looked particularly neat. However, one broke off before Beast reached it, so she thought he might get some points docked for that.
Ten long minutes later, Beast returned to her sculpture. "For most creativity and detail, I award Rogue first place." Her grin matched his as she took the bright blue ribbon from his clawed hand.
"That's not fair, hers wasn't even a man!" Pietro shouted.
"Sore loser."
"Okay," Kitty's breath came out in small pants of excited exhaustion as she trudged over to Jubilee who'd retreated to the sidelines after taking a particularly hard snowball to the side of the face. Her ear was still ringing from that blow, and she couldn't stop glaring at the combatants trying to figure out which one of them pegged her that hard. Jerks. "I can't feel my feet. Can you send up some sparks? I think it's time to move things inside."
Jubilee grinned, pleased that, if nothing else, this Christmas adventure got the two girls talking again. She even had a job to do. Well, beyond being an overgrown sparkler. "Sure," Jubilee said, holding both hands up and focusing. Brilliant firework-like sparks exploded out of her palms and shot up into the sky, green from her left hand, and red from her right. Something she'd been working on lately. Picking the colors and alternating them between hands. Maybe she could use them to communicate in dangerous situations? Either way, it was fun to practice.
The flashing lights accomplished Kitty's goal, bringing the last few snowball battlers to a standstill as they looked up to see the impromptu show. "Okay everyone, let's head to the west wing living room to warm up and watch a couple movies!" Kitty shouted, her voice carrying over the field with surprising strength for such a small girl. A lion in kitten's clothing.
While Kitty played sheep-dog and began ushering everyone inside, Jubilee ran ahead. It didn't take long for her to shimmy out of her winter gear and take her place before everyone else. A low whistle escaped the girl when she saw how much Kitty managed to transform the informal living room.
The couches had been pushed back, making a wide open space in front of the TV. A space that Kitty somehow managed to fill with every soft and squishy thing in the mansion. Pillows, blankets, bean bag chairs, was that a giant teddy bear? No, it looked like a dog. Anyway, the thing had to be six feet tall. Where the heck did the girl even get such a thing? Surely if someone had a six foot stuffed dog chilling in their room, Jubilee would have known, right? Right?!
Jubilee shook her head before marching over to the folding table she and Kitty set up early that morning. A hot cocoa bar, with her as the under-aged barista. A flash of nostalgia danced like sparks through her mind. One of the better foster homes Jubilee was forced into had kids who played baseball. She and some of the other girls would work in the concession stand during the games to earn a little extra money that summer. It was one of the few good summers she'd had, at least before her mutation developed and things changed.
Chatter, excited voices, and a stream of students and teachers began pouring into the room. "Time to get warmed up, please see Jubilee for some custom hot cocoa at our world-famous Hot Cocoa Bar."
Fondness swept through Jubilee at Kitty's extravagant introduction. She'd missed this, the simple easy friendship that existed before Zen. Speaking of, he stood like an ominous shadow behind the curly-haired girl.
Unease tried to curdle inside her, but Jubilee fought it back. In the months since Kitty became his protector, Zen had been nothing but a rather frightening gentleman. He never attacked anyone, and from everything she'd witnessed from afar, he treated Kitty well. If anything, it was the girl who hassled him more than the other way around. Kitty was far more likely to drag him into mischief than the other way around.
Case in point, Kitty was hauling him over to Jubilee now so that they could lead by example. "You're going to love it, you like mint right? We have some mint hot chocolate, the dark kind. I tried it the other night, and it tastes just like Andes minds, and I know you like those." Kitty's words babbled like a brook, and Jubilee couldn't quite muffle the laughter at the slightly exasperated look on Zen's face. The day had barely begun, but it was obvious he was already over the whole thing.
"So, one dark mint, and?" Jubilee asked, looking at Kitty with laughing eyes.
"I'll take a peppermint coco bomb please."
It didn't take long for Jubilee to get the two set up with their drinks. They'd set up a bunch of different toppings, and she couldn't stop giggling when Kitty piled tiny marshmallows, crushed peppermint dust, and whip cream. With all that, Kitty wouldn't even be able to taste the chocolate.
After those two, things became a blur as everyone jostled to get their own cups. Nearly half an hour later, everyone was situated, and had found a seat. Jubilee made herself a large coco and joined Kitty in handing out bags of popcorn before the first movie began.
Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, the toy one that always made her smile and fit the school so well. They weren't the normal elves, that was for sure. Though she didn't think any of them would end up with a passion for dentistry.
Jubilee found an unclaimed bean bag chair, and curled up on it, careful not to slosh her drink onto her lap. That would be beyond embarrassing. Settled for now, she found herself glancing around for Zen, a habit she'd never been able to break. Not since he'd become an unwilling student. She felt like a chicken always keeping a wary eye on the fox that someone had covered in feathers and tried to pass off as one of the flock. Even though he never bit, she still couldn't help but keep a sharp eye on him.
Surprise flashed through her when she saw the littlest X-Kid cuddled up against the once assassin's side as if he were a big brother and not a murderer. That was unexpected. Even more so when the dark-haired teen listened to the boy's quiet murmurs.
She was just close enough to hear a few snippets. "We're like Charlie, ya know? Misfit toys. The school is like the island, and we're the toys that aren't like everyone else."
"True, and the Professor works to keep us all safe," came Zen's soft reply.
It was unexpectedly sweet. Jubilee found herself watching the two more so than the movie. No matter how much the little boy chattered, Zen never showed the slightest bit of irritation or told him to hush and focus on the movie. He listened intently to every word.
Maybe we were wrong about him.
The first movie wasn't bad, full of nostalgia yes, but it wasn't Jean's favorite or the one she made them watch every year. It was only when Kitty announced the second movie that Scott had to abandon this little adventure. If he had to sit through the Grinch, he knew the depression would swamp him again, dragging him down into the watery depths of his mind where Jean was swept away by the water over and over again.
Even though it was February, and the faux holiday had been thrown together by the two most unqualified of students, it was still full of unexpected landmines. Little moments that tried to drown him in past memories, and a future that was arrested. We'll never curl up on the couch with our own children and watch these classic Christmas movies, never see their faces light up in the morning when they open that one perfect gift that they've wanted all year. It hurt, thinking about everything that could have been but never would. The life they might have led. Kids unborn.
Scott shook his head and slipped out during the intermission between movies. Oddly enough, he wasn't the only one. "Zen?"
The short teen turned and glanced back at him, waiting silently for Scott to continue. "What are you doing? Aren't you going to watch the next movie?"
"No, I need to get started on dinner."
Dinner. Right, and wasn't that one of the strangest developments of their in-house assassin? After they'd returned to the mansion, they'd found out that Zen's talents extended to more than murder and mayhem. He still had a hard time wrapping his mind around that development, and the puzzle of Zen was intriguing enough that he found himself following the youth into the kitchen to help. Better to focus on the mystery instead of wallowing in his own misery. If nothing else, it gave his overactive mind something else to latch onto.
"I'll help," Scott said when Zen gave him a questioning look. Unlike the tree, and movies, cooking didn't hold any particular barbs when it came to his past with Jean. It was always her and Storm and the other giggling girls in the kitchen making cookies and whatnot, he'd avoided the whole production.
Again, Scott found himself surprised. Apparently, sometime before the festivities began, someone had gotten a head-start. The kitchen counters were lined with dishes and dry ingredients. A neatly printed recipe near each area, a proverbial roadmap for the dinner Zen planned to make.
"Where did you learn how to do all this?" Scott couldn't help but ask.
Zen glanced up from where he was already preparing the turkey to go into the oven. "I didn't."
The non-answer made Scott scowl as he stood back and watched the bird being expertly stuffed. "You know this isn't something most people can just do on a whim, right? Did you do the cooking before." It was as close as he could comfortably get to acknowledging Zen's bloody past. Were you the chief for all the other mutant hunters? Did you make fancy dinners after torturing fellow mutants?
It was an absurd thought, then again, it wasn't like all of them just killed and tortured people. They had to have hobbies beyond training and slaughter, didn't they? Scott shifted uneasily, not enjoying this bit of introspection.
"No."
A tired sigh escaped the man. Why was it always like this with Zen? Getting answers out of the boy was like pulling teeth. Maybe he should try a different angle? "What's the first meal you ever cooked?"
"Pancakes for Kitty and the rest of the students."
Scott's jaw dropped at that. "That's the first time you've ever cooked?" He couldn't keep the incredulity out of his tone.
"Yes?" Zen turned to look at him, a look that said more than words that he thought Scott was being the weird one here.
"How?"
Now his own frown was mirrored back at him at the question. "I followed the recipe," he said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world.
"Right." He followed the recipe, sure why not. It sounded nuts, but Zen wasn't the sort to lie, let alone about something so mundane as who taught him how to cook.
Watching Zen stand at the counter, carefully cracking eggs into a mixing bowl, Scott couldn't help but wonder. If the shadow group he'd been enslaved to hadn't taught him, what if it was from the time before he'd fallen into their crooked hands?
Almost against his will, Scott pictured this same scene. Only with a little Zen - what's his real name? We all use the one Kitty gave him, but he had a mother once. A father. A family who loved him - not much taller than Malcom, standing on a step stool and looking into a mixing bowl.
Clear as a movie, he could imagine a mother standing next to him with a toddler on one hip as she carefully directed him on how to crack the eggs into the bowl. His own treacherous mind painted her with long red hair and laughing green eyes. Someone with infinite patience, who was willing to let even such a young child help in the kitchen as she instilled her own love of cooking into him.
The government may have stolen the memories, but they clearly hadn't been able to wipe all traces of what used to be. Not with how easily Zen moved around a kitchen. The intuitive way he had of doubling and tripling recipes as if it was more natural than breathing. Scott couldn't believe it was simply natural skill.
No, somewhere along the way, someone taught him. Maybe we can find them? Someone, somewhere has to be missing their lost child.
Maybe when Charles was better, he could look. Or perhaps this could be a project for Frost if she was capable of handling Cerebro. Not every psychic could. He winced a little at the memory of the one and only time Jean attempted it and failed miserably. She'd had a pounding migraine for over a week afterward. Hank was certain she'd done herself real damage and forbid her from going anywhere near the machine again.
"What can I do to help?"
"Do you know how to chop vegetables?"
As Scott settled into his new role as helper, he couldn't stop wondering if maybe this was Zen's true calling. A talent that had nothing to do with his blood-stained past. A future that went beyond the endless battles of his past and the X-Men's future. It was a strange thought, imagining Zen owning his own restaurant, or being the chief for some high end establishment, his quiet poise and direct instruction bringing delicious meals to life for paying customers.
Such a strange thought, but one that oddly enough filled Scott with hope. Maybe, someday, they would live in a world where Zen could be more than a Weapon.
A fondly-exasperated sigh escaped Hank as he watched Kitty dislodge even the most grumbly and comfortable student from their nests to usher them towards the next scheduled event. Somehow she managed it with a level of energy the blue-furred mutant couldn't help but envy. Ah, to be young again.
It didn't take long for her to get the whole group moving as a unit down to the pool which hadn't been spared Kitty's manic Christmas transformations. That girl must have been up all night getting everything set up to her exacting standards. If nothing else, her dedication had to be admired even if Hank couldn't help the groan that escaped him as he watched Bobby create fake ice skates for the students one-by-one before shooing them out onto the impromptu ice rink he certainly also made.
"Not going to join in on the fun?" Storm's soft voice pulled a snort from Hank at the mere thought.
"I think not. Someone needs to keep an eye out for broken bones after all, and it might as well be me," he said before giving a sharp-toothed grin. "After all, if I go out there the bones that break might be my own, and it would be a shame to squash one of the kids. I'll leave it to the professionals."
He gave one particular woman a pointed look. Unlike the students in their literal skates made of ice, Miss Frost had a real pair, one of only two on the ice who did. If the smooth loops she made around the rink were anything to go by, it showed she knew what she was doing.
Like Emma, Kitty also had her own pair of real skates. As they watched, the girl attempted a Salchow jump, a pretty thing where the skater doesn't use a toe pick to assist in the takeoff. The edge jump when excused correctly was a nice bit of flash, but Kitty failed to stick the landing and ended up skidding across the ice on her rump.
Emma, the one the silly girl had clearly been focused on when she tried that little stunt, neatly spun out of the fallen child's way in a pirouette before skating over to the downed child to make sure she hadn't done herself any permanent damage. If the scowl on Kitty's face as Emma helped her back to her feet was anything to go by, it was probably accompanied by an admonishment to be more careful next time. Something the head-strong girl wouldn't have taken well.
Again, Hank groaned before gently nudging Storm towards the ice. "If no one manages to break anything, I'll call it a win but I'm sure there are going to be a ton of sore kids come morning," he pointed out as a pileup of students wiped out on the deep end of the pool.
"Sometimes fun comes at a cost, but it is one we are willing to pay," Storm said before slipping out onto the ice like an elegant snowstorm, all swirling silver hair and grace.
Several new bruises, a sprained wrist, and many sore bottoms later, a loud gonging bell rang through the pool room. The surprising sound made more than one student lose their balance and tumble onto the ice, but it effectively brought everyone's attention to the door where Zen stood holding the hand-gong Kitty bought for this exact moment.
"Dinner is ready, please head to the dining room for the feast." While his bland delivery left much to be desired, the promise of a second meal of the day cooked by Zen brought everyone to point.
Emma sat down on the edge of one of the lounge chairs to unlace her skates as she pondered this unexpected side to the assassin. That morning, she'd been skeptical of his cooking prowess and yet the crêpes were not only edible but were refined enough to be served in any French restaurant.
It was odd, to say the least. Difficult to think of him as having a domestic side. She didn't like it. Didn't like anything that presented the short killer as anything more than a tool wielded by madmen. And yet, she hadn't been able to stop herself from slipping into his mind while he cooked, her own curiosity getting the best of her. Who taught him? Was it one of the other soldiers who'd taken the scrap of a teen under their wing and given him a life skill beyond slaughter? No, she found nothing on where the skills came from. No, that wasn't quite right. There was almost an impression, something almost there, but not quite. Almost like the neuropaths had been built in, but had no memory associated with them. Curiouser and curiouser.
Displeased with the turn her thoughts had taken, Emma turned her attention to the students around her just in time to catch the little carrot-headed boy as he tripped over his own feet. He was the youngest of the children, and without thought Emma scooped him up into her arms and settled him on her hip. "Are you ready for a feast? I heard Zen made this one as well."
That earned the expected gap-toothed grin. Another oddity, how attached this little one was to the ex-Weapon but she could see it in his mind. Could also see his own unique gift, a view of the world that was honestly breathtaking. Emma couldn't help the soft gasp of wonder as she saw her power through his magnificent eyes. If she had to guess, she figured her powers would look like rainbows, or glitter, maybe even snow. Something along that vein, but no. Through his eyes, her aura was a complex matrix of liquid gold, feathery tendrils of power danced in the air around her like a sea anemone, touching those around her, letting me read their thoughts. It was unexpectedly beautiful.
To see the world through his eyes was a joy that Emma cherished. "Alright little man, let's go eat supper."
"Yeah!"
A yawn wide enough to make Bobby's jaw almost crack split his face as Kitty prodded them out of the dining room and into the formal living room where the tree stood in splendid glory. He couldn't stop the scowl when he remembered how much of a pain it was to set up. Who knew fake trees could be so difficult? It felt like one of the wooden puzzle boxes his mom liked to collect. The ones where you slid a piece, twisted another, pushed yet a third, and if any bit of it wasn't done in the proper order, there was no possible way to get the box open short of breaking it.
Pushing the memories away, Bobby let Kitty nudge him over until he was part of the circle around the tree. Not for the first time, he wondered how such a small girl had so much energy packed into her tiny form. She was like a gerbil on crack zooming around everyone and making sure this holiday bonanza went off exactly how she envisioned it.
He wished he could siphon off a bit of that energy for himself right now. After three helpings of Christmas dinner, Bobby wanted nothing more than to stretch out on the couch and take a nap. As fun as it all was, today was almost too much excitement. Kitty really outdid herself this time, but he thought she might have gone a bit overboard. Of course Zen hadn't bothered even trying to keep her in check. I should have butted in when she came to me about the ice skating. Those two really need someone with a level head to keep things from getting entirely out of hand.
No, he was not feeling left out that she hadn't come to him to help with the planning. Not at all.
"Okay, let's do this Feast of the Winter Star style," Kitty's chirpy voice broke Bobby out of his musings and he frowned. He wasn't the only one confused. Kitty huffed and said, "Secret Santa's go find your partner and give them their gifts!"
A mischievous grin curled Bobby's lips as he hunted down his own person. It didn't take him long to find the short, brown-haired boy. Flea gave him a weary look, perhaps tipped off by his smile before reluctantly taking the offered package. "This better not be a flea collar," he muttered under his breath, giving Bobby the stink-eye before he tore off the bright red paper covered in little white snowflakes.
"Nope," Bobby said, letting the P pop obnoxiously as Flea stared at the plastic cat, pinkish-orange, curled up on its back with a green ball of yarn in its paws.
"Er, I think you're confusing me with Kitty."
"Open it!"
Flea gave a dramatic sigh before flicking open the clasp and staring at the revealed mini-house. "You have got to be kidding me."
Bobby burst out laughing even as he began pointing out the features. "No, look! It'll be awesome. You're the perfect size to fit! There are slide out floor wings that open up the area. Fold down stairs so you can get into it, a slide, and you could fill this part with water to have your own micro pool."
Even though Flea was giving him the most dead-pan look ever, Bobby could practically see the gears turning in the boy's mind. He'd been thinking about Polly Pocket ever since he saw his fellow student shrink down the first time, so when he got him as his gift-giver, Bobby couldn't have been more thrilled.
Before he could tease him even more about all the other housing options he'd found in his search, Flea's face closed down, becoming weary as he backed up. "Hey, uh, see ya later. Thanks for the gift or whatever." Then like a mouse sensing a cat, he scurried away.
Anxiety whispered down Bobby's spine, and like in a bad horror movie he turned to find Zen standing behind him, staring in that absolutely creepy way he had.
"Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year," Zen's words were surprisingly solemn as he held out the rectangular package. Bobby had to bite the inside of his cheek to stifle the laughter threatening to explode from his straining lungs. Something about the tiny assassin offering him a Christmas gift in February and telling him to have a Happy New Year just tickled him pink. It was so obviously a line he'd picked up from his research, and Bobby thought he might strain something trying to keep the laughter in.
Then a new thought killed the giggles before they could escape. What, exactly, did Zen get him? That thought was more than a little frightening. It could be anything from a tuna fish sandwich to a pack of his and hers dildos. Literally anything could be in that box. The thought of all the potentially embarrassing things that might be in there made his palms itch. It would be just like Zen to give him a book on masturbation or something obnoxious like that since it was something they had in common.
Another thought clicked over in his frazzled mind, and Bobby couldn't stop from blurting out, "You were spying on me, weren't you!"
"I was doing recognizance, yes."
That was more than a little dismaying. Bobby hesitated but finally took the gift with the ginger-ness of someone handling a bomb. "Thank you," he muttered, still uncertain what to think. From the weight of it, he could rule out a sandwich and it probably wasn't dildos, too heavy for that.
What was it?
The suspense clawed at him, but trepidation saw Bobby taking the mystery package to the couch and resting it on his knees as he glanced around the room just in time to spot a flash of silver.
Pietro, smirking like a loon, offered a package wrapped in paper covered with dogs of all types wearing Santa hats to Beast. An incredulous snort escaped Bobby at that, and even from the other side of the room, he swore he could hear Beast's annoyed sigh.
An actual bark of laughter escaped Bobby when Beast opened the gift to reveal a dog grooming kit, including shampoo, conditioner, a brush, and one of those electric grinders for claws. Yellow eyes flashed with speculation at the grinder, but Bobby couldn't read his furry face enough to know if he was pleased or annoyed at the gift.
A sudden image flashed in his mind from the movie Beauty and the Beast, when the servants helped wash him. Only now his fur was blue and sticking all over the tub like some demented shed from the cookie monster. It sparked off more questions than Bobby was comfortable with. How did he get clean? Did he use shampoo and conditioner all over? Only on his head and body soap for the rest? Did...did he lick himself?
He shuddered at the thought and put it out of his mind. None of his business.
Finally, curiosity got the better of him and Bobby inched the paper open. His blood ran cold when he saw his dad's face, then his mom, him, and Robby. They were all dressed in their Sunday best, smiling and staring into the camera in that blank way people did when taking professional pictures. It was still in the frame, the one Bobby recognized from the hallway in his house.
With shaking hands, he shifted the first frame to reveal a second. This one wasn't professional in the slightest. No, it was a shot his mom took of him and dad in the backyard. His dad was throwing a football, and mom got the perfect shot with him jumping up in the air, arms outstretched, ready to catch it.
His breath hitched in his throat as he ran a finger over his father's face. He'd been 10 then, back before mutation, Xavier's institute. Before the attack on the school. Back when he was just Bobby Drake, son, brother, average human being.
The third picture was one of him and Robby, both grinning, hanging on the side of a pool. Their hair was spiked from the water, and their noses and cheeks were bright red with sunburn.
Bobby's throat closed in fear, making his breath hiss out like a snake.
Zen was in his house.
It's fine, everything is fine. If... If something happened, someone would have told me. They would have called. It's fine.
Bobby's eyes jerked up, darting around the room to try and distract himself from his spiraling thoughts. They caught on Logan, on X, no not X right now as the gruff man walked up to one of the psychic blondes and handed her a box. Both Bobby and the girl were clearly surprised that he'd picked out the right one - Phoebe - without needing to ask. Then he tapped his nose, and Bobby snorted. Of course, to a feral they wouldn't be nearly as identical as they looked to everyone else.
In moments, she'd opened it up to find a set of mittens, a hat, and scarf, all in winter white with silver snowflakes embroidered into it. Bobby frowned as he looked at the other girls. His eyebrows shot up into his hairline when he realized everyone who had them got the exact same thing. He might have thought it was done on purpose, that they'd all figured out who had the girls and worked together to get them the same gifts, but he couldn't imagine any of them working with Logan to coordinate the gifts.
That left two possibilities, the first that they all saw the same display at the mall and thought it fit. Or that the psychics planted the idea in their minds. Either way, it was beyond creepy.
Speaking of Creepy Blondes, Bobby wondered if Kitty was brilliant or insane when he saw the Ice Queen herself hold up the rather tasteful gift that the girl had given her. If he wasn't mistaken, the white turtle-neck sweater was cashmere. It was the sort his mom liked, almost like a dress, going about mid-thigh and designed to be worn with leggings so the sweater kept everything decent.
Bobby snorted back laughter at the extremely unamused look on Frost's face. It couldn't be more different from her usual attire, and it was expensive enough that it looked like a proper gift while actually being a slap in the face. Leave it to Kitty to make a statement.
Zen was in his house.
Nope, not thinking about that. Not at all. Again, Bobby's mind sought distractions and landed on Malcom. The adorable little kid who'd kicked off this whole off season Christmas fiasco marched up to Adelaide without the slightest hint of fear and offered a rather awkwardly wrapped bundle. She took it with gentle hands, and this time Bobby was close enough to hear the exchange as she unwrapped the gift. It was a pretty green headband with little squiggly snakes drawn in childish scrawl over the material.
"I like your sparkles, but your hair always hides them. Kitty said this would help!" Malcom said with a smile.
For a moment, Adelaide's face was perfectly blank, but then she smiled. It was a lovely smile, one that lit her up and softened the hard edges of her features. Kneeling, she allowed the little boy to help her put it on, and didn't pull away when he reached out to brush his fingers over the bright green scales lining her cheeks. "So soft, now we can see them sparkle!" He grinned up at her and she smiled fondly down at him.
"Yesss, we can. Thank you." Adelaide booped his nose, making Malcom giggle.
Zen was in his house.
The unwelcomed thought jerked his attention back to the shadow in the room. Xavier was handing the boy his own box and Bobby couldn't help but glance over at Kitty. Having him be Zen's partner felt a little bit like a cheat, but he could understand it. While things had gotten a lot better over the last few weeks, there was still some bad blood between Zen and the other students.
He blinked in surprise when Zen's gift turned out to be a fairly nice camera and a bird-watching book. Well, I suppose that would give him the sense of hunting even though there would be no kill. It was an interesting gift, one Bobby thought Zen might actually enjoy. Maybe picking a psychic who knew every inch of Zen's mind wasn't a bad choice after all. If he'd gotten Zen as his partner, Bobby knew he wouldn't have had the slightest idea what to get him. Maybe some new pajamas?
ZEN was in his HOUSE!
No longer able to bear the mounting fear, the memories of the first time he'd seen IX attacking Syrin and how bright the blood was in the afternoon sunshine, Bobby jumped to his feet and bolted for the door.
In seconds, he was standing in the kitchen with the phone in his shaking hand. He'd plugged in all but the last number and his finger hesitated over the 9. How many times had he stood like this since the whole mess with Pyro? A dozen? More? He didn't know, but now the fear goaded him into pressing that last digit.
He waited, holding his breath and silently praying that someone, anyone would pick up. He'd even talk to Robby right now if that meant knowing that they were all in one piece. Someone would have told me if something happened. Then again, Zen seemed the type to be able to hide a body well. If he'd done something, it would take a while for anyone to even realize what happened. No, don't be stupid, they'd still be missing. The cops would have called to ask if I knew anything if that was the c-
"This is the Drake residence, William speaking."
Instant relief flooded Bobby's veins, and he sagged against the wall, sliding down to the floor to sit with his head resting against his knees as he clutched the phone to his ear.
"Hello?"
The sound of his father's voice washed over him, filling him with a hurtful mix of longing and dismay. Now that he knew things were fine, Bobby almost ended the call. But no, his dad was okay, but what about mom?
What about Robby?
Just thinking about his brother was like a dagger to the heart. If Zen had a problem with any of them, it would be his cop-calling brother.
"Hello?" Impatience bled into the word, and Bobby knew time was up.
"H-" he had to clear his throat to spit the word out. "Hey."
"Bobby? Is that you?"
"I. Yeah, it's me dad."
"Is everything alright? We were so worried about you, son. I know we didn't part on the best terms, but we still love you. You know that, don't you? The police talked to us after everything happened. They informed us that it was mostly a misunderstanding. You aren't in any trouble."
Tears burned in his eyes, and Bobby pressed them harder against his knees. "That- that's good to hear. No, everything's fine. With all the crazy stuff going on, we didn't really get to do Christmas, you know? So some of the kids decided to do it in February and it just got me thinking about you guys. You're all okay too, right?" He couldn't quite keep the fear out of his voice.
"Of course, I mean the house had a lot of damage but insurance got it sorted out. Everything's fine now, even if your mother is vexed with Robby right now."
"She is?" Relief flooded the words.
A soft chuckle came over the line. "Yeah, I guess he took a couple of the pictures off the walls and hid them. Some sort of prank or something."
"Oh," a bit of guilt ate at him and he opened his mouth before closing it again. The less they knew about Zen, the better. "Well, tell everyone I love them and miss you guys a lot. I need to go."
"Bobby, wait."
He held his breath, holding the phone so hard his hand ached.
"We love you, too. More than you know. You're mom and I have been talking about it a lot and I know our reaction wasn't the best that day but we want you to know you're always welcome home. We love you dearly, and being a mutant doesn't change that."
"Thanks," the word came out more than a little choked with emotion. "Love you too, talk later, okay?"
"Good, I love you. Call back as soon as you can, I know your mom wants to talk."
"I will."
"Do I gotta?" Malcom whined as he kicked restlessly at the blankets. It was ten o'clock, already an hour and a half past his bedtime but Kitty could tell that the excitement of the day was getting the better of the boy, making it impossible to settle.
Smiling fondly, she tucked the blankets a little tighter around him as she sat on the edge of the bed with a book in hand. "Yes, you do. But not before a story." Kitty fought back the scowl as she looked down at the one he picked. It was one of his favorites, not because he liked the story, but because he got a kick out of how Kitty struggled with the tongue twisters. "Fox in Socks," she said with a sigh, preparing her tongue for the beadle battles to come.
Many slips and giggles later, they made it through the twisty-text.
"Lull-bye!"
Kitty smiled down at him, noticing how droopy his eyes were getting. This was one of the things she loved most, the end of the day, tucking him in and even though he was certainly getting a little too old for it, singing him his lullaby every night. "Hushabye don't you cry, go to sleep my little baby. When you wake, you will find all the pretty little horses-"
He sang along with her, and Kitty's heart melted. Yes, five was too old, but Kitty knew that one night he wouldn't ask. One night they would skip it, and that would be the last time she sang it to him. In a way, it was a heartbreaking realization, even though it was part of growing up. All the little lasts that you didn't even realize was a last until you realize it's over. The last lullaby, when you pick them up and put them down for the last time. Childhood was full of little lasts and Kitty was determined to savor this time for as long as she had it.
"Good night, kiddo," she murmured before kissing his forehead.
"Mr. Nibbles, too!" he said, holding up a brown and white dog stuffy. With a smile, Kitty kissed the fluffy forehead, too.
"Sweet dreams."
"You too!"
Logan waited until the brats cleared out before he caught Zen by the wrist. Inquisitive green eyes stared up at him. "Here, I got you this. Thought it might be useful," he grumbled, holding out a package wrapped in royal blue paper.
For a moment, Zen simply stared at him, making the feral blush even as X chuffed in amusement in the back of his mind. Ever since he got that stupid card for Secret Santa, Zen was on his mind. He'd doubted anyone would get him a worthwhile gift, but to his surprise Chuck's wasn't half bad. Still, he'd been certain that whoever his gift-giver was, they wouldn't be able to get him anything of use.
That's when X, the prick that he was, gave Logan the perfect answer in the form of an image. He could hardly believe X was willing to help on this bit of foolishness, after all what was gift giving to an animalistic mind? Then he saw a flash of memory, him holding out a freshly killed pair of rabbits to Zen, no to IX. Were they in a cave? What the actual fuck? Keep that shit to yourself!
While he was having his existential crisis, and not wanting to think on exactly why it had felt so important to get Zen a gift, the subject of his thoughts took the package and opened it without the slightest bit of hesitation. At least one of us isn't tying themselves up in knots over this.
A smile brushed Zen's lips, small and secret, Logan thought it might be real as he ran a finger along the gleaming metal of the six inch dagger. A matched set, the blades shone with a particular gleam that spoke of the type of metal they'd been forged out of. Adamantium. The blades made specifically for IX to spar with X without the weapons being destroyed.
Back when this whole mess started, Zen left them behind since he had no interest in going after Remy with a blade. No, he'd wanted to use the Bo, and so these were left back at base along with the black wrist sheaths.
With X as a guide, it hadn't been hard to slip away and retrieve them. Unlike Zen, there was no metaphysical chain keeping him here. He could walk away at any time, but then a deep rumbling snarl vibrated his skull. Okay, maybe he did have a bit of a leash keeping him bound to this place. Or at least to this person.
Mate.
Not mine.
Distracted by his interior drama, Logan didn't notice Zen moving until his lips captured his own in a surprising kiss. Every nerve seemed to light, and Logan's arms came around Zen's waist, pulling him tighter against his broad chest even as he took control of the kiss, drinking deeply of that unique scent, exploring the flavor of the assassin's mouth even as his mind cried out; wrong, wrong, wrong, not mine. Not my mate.
Zen's sharp teeth nipped his lower lip, pulling a groan from his throat even as X crowed the back of his mind, pressing forward but not trying to dislodge him. No, it felt different from anything else. Almost as if the line between them began to blur.
Ours.
Like two soap bubbles beginning to merge, Logan's mind was filled with a spill of images, scents, sensations. The feel of Zen's body clenched around his burning length, the taste of his blood. Sharp-toothed kisses, nails raking over skin. The line between X and Logan blurring, blurring.
"NO!"
With a harsh shout, he shoved Zen away and fled, terror nipping at his heels as he mentally drop-kicked X back into the depths of his subconscious. Every nerve buzzed with horror at the thought of them merging, of losing himself.
Not now, not ever. I'm Logan. Not X. Not a killer.
Not a beast.