Sorry for those anticipating the posting of X-Celsior, but unfortunately, I went off the idea. I felt the harem to be crowbarred in, and while I still intend to do an X-Men crossover shipping Harry with X-23, and maybe a response to the 'Cook' challenge whitetigerwolf posted, those are on the backburner for now.

But after discussion with whitetigerwolf, I decided to try something I should have tried before. More than a few of my readers, I'm sure, are aware of Blood Brandy's Vegas challenge, which, while originally meant for DC crossovers, has been used for Marvel and other crossovers as well. And while there's still a harem in this story, how it comes about feels somewhat less awkward...considering that Harry gets hitched with a certain quintet of psychics...

So, ladies and gentlemen, I present One Flew into the Cuckoos' Nest.

Oh, and once more, I should point out, this is not Earth-616. Plus, we'll be having cameos from a lot of Marvel characters, as you'll see...


ONE FLEW INTO THE CUCKOOS' NEST

CHAPTER 1:

DIAMOND (GIRLS) ARE FOREVER

Ah, morning amnesia. People believe it's a bad thing, but in truth, it allows the mind to come to grips with a difficult situation one step at a time. It can stop some people from waking up screaming.

Of course, paired with a hangover, it can be the utter pits.

Emerald eyes flickered open blearily, only to snap shut, a groan of pain worming itself from between parched lips. It felt like an icicle was being stabbed through his skull. It was enough to make one a teetotaller.

The boy in bed was in his teens, rather scrawny-looking, his features framed by a messy thatch of black hair. On his forehead, partially covered by his coif, was a thunderbolt-shaped scar, just above his right eye. Ugh, did anyone get the number of the dragon that stomped on me? he thought to himself as his brain rebooted, with difficulty.

First, his name: Harry James Potter. Then, his age: 16 (though as far as his fake ID was concerned, he was called James Evans, and he was 18). Then, his life so far: crappy.

In fact, the latest crappy thing to happen to him, as far as he could remember, was his godfather Sirius dying, and so many of his friends nearly following him. All because he got fooled by visions sent from Voldemort.

Then, came the will reading. Of Sirius emancipating Harry from beyond the grave. Of Dumbledore contesting it. Of the arguments that followed. Eventually, Harry was forcibly returned to 4 Privet Drive, only for Remus and Tonks to fetch him out of there. It seemed that Sirius had pretty much ordered Moony to take Harry on a vacation to the US. It took some tricky doing, but they went to Las Vegas, to celebrate Harry's 16th.

Most of that time passed in a blur, partly due to alcohol, and partly due to the rather surreal nature of the interiors of casinos, meant to act as a form of sensory deprivation. He vaguely remembered winning big on the fruit machines and all sorts of games, as if in compensation for his crappy luck in life. He vaguely remembered drinking, then speaking to a rather beautiful, if a bit straitlaced, blonde girl, though his inebriated state had him thinking there were five of them.

After that, things became more hazy and fragmentary. The only thing he remembered with any real clarity was Elvis…well, an impersonator, anyway. Then, something about a girl made of diamonds. That HAD to be something caused by drink.

Still, he had figured out the where, and a little of the why. Well, where the hangover was concerned. Though the odd amount of pressure on his body, especially his limbs, was odd. As if he was surrounded in bed by a number of naked female bodies, all curled up to him.

He opened his eyes tentatively, and found that he was, indeed, surrounded in bed by a number of naked female bodies, all curled up to him. Five of them, in fact. Identical quintuplets, in fact. All with the same regally beautiful features framed by white-blonde hair. And about his age, too. And was it him, or did they look vaguely familiar?

Somewhere, in whatever afterlife existed, Harry knew that Sirius would be seething with jealousy, managing to have it off with identical quintuplets. Harry wasn't sure whether he had had sex with them or not, but evidence suggested he had. It wasn't just his noggin that was sore. It was his everything.

Then, one of the girls stirred with a groan, one soon echoed by the others. They were waking up. "Ugh, my head," one of them remarked, opening her eyes and revealing icy blue irises. When she saw Harry, she blinked, confused.

"We've all got headaches, Sophie," another of the girls groused quietly. "Just don't speak so loudly."

"I don't know why Logan likes drinking so much. Then again, with his healing factor, he probably resists inebriation," a third muttered.

Soon, Harry was surrounded on all sides by the blonde quintet, looking at him in (mild) confusion and annoyance. Eventually, the first one who spoke, Sophie, spoke. "You don't remember much of what happened, do you?"

Harry, reluctantly, shook his head. "Do you?"

"Only fragments," said another one. "But we've managed to put them together, and the story they tell is…"

"Well, let's be frank," another said. "If you didn't let us look into your mind last night, we would be angrier."

"Look into my…mind?" Harry blinked. He nearly got angry at their intrusion, given what Snape did, but he didn't know what the hell had happened last night. "Are you wizards?"

They snorted in derision simultaneously. "We know of wizards," one of them said.

"But we're…different. We're telepaths, psychics, Mutants."

Harry's eyes widened in realisation. Now he knew who they looked like. "Mutants…are you related to Emma Frost?"

The five girls looked at each other, before Sophie said, "Our mother…after a fashion. We didn't tell you last night, though you guessed we were Mutants."

"At least you aren't as judgemental as many wizards," one of her sisters said. "Especially given who our mother is."

"Well, she's with the X-Men now, isn't she?" Harry asked.

Again, the sisters looked at each other. Eventually, they looked back to Harry. "Well, it's not as simple as 'she's with the X-Men, so she must be good', but you accept us better than most wizards," one of them said.

"Many think of us as Dark Creatures," another said. "Even here in the US, we haven't had the best relationship with MACUSA."

It was like talking to the Weasley Twins again…if they were blonde quintuplets who vaguely reminded him of Daphne Greengrass. "Well, as long as you're not with the Brotherhood or anything…so, what are your names?"

"Sophie."

"Phoebe."

"Irma, though most call me Mindee."

"Celeste."

"Esme."

"We call ourselves the 'Five-in-One'," Sophie said, "though some of our classmates call us the Stepford Cuckoos."

Harry blinked, before some weird connection made itself plain. "Wait…Sophie, Phoebe, Irma, Celeste and Esme…is another codename for you the SPICE Girls or something(1)?"

"May I?" Esme asked with an annoyed sigh.

"Be my guest," Sophie said, with Esme promptly swatting Harry lightly about the head.

"Ow. What was that for?" Harry asked, still feeling a bit bleary.

"Amongst other things, bad jokes," Esme said.

"You'll need a clear head for this next bit, though," Sophie said. "Just a moment."

The quintet of girls closed their eyes. And then, suddenly, Harry felt something not unlike a wave go across his mind. In its wake, there was no headache or hangover bleariness. He felt certainly more awake than he was before. "Okay, so…what was that? Some sort of psychic hangover cure?"

"More or less," Irma said. "We just stimulated certain parts of your brain, as well as having your brain ignore most of the hangover symptoms."

"Plus, we stimulated the parts of your autonomic nervous system that deal with your liver and kidneys to increase activity," Celeste added.

Phoebe nodded. "It's a temporary fix, but it'll last until your body metabolizes or flushes out the chemicals causing your hangover. Though drinking a glass of water would be recommended."

He had to admit, he felt much better now. "Okay, but I don't think I'll drink that much ever again."

Sophie scoffed gently. "That would be wise. Which brings us to the bad news. Look on your hand, specifically the ring finger."

Harry did so. And to his surprise, there was an actual ring on his ring finger. Three, actually. The Potter family ring, and the Black family ring, which he had gotten from Gringotts after Sirius' will was read. And a simple gold band which he hadn't seen before. He didn't remember donning any of those, though.

And then, with a sinking feeling, he looked around at the Cuckoos, who were holding up their own hands. And there were gold bands on each ring finger. "Oh no…" he muttered.

"Oh yes," the Cuckoos chorused eerily.

"We got hitched, didn't we?" Harry groaned. "Went into a chapel or something? Was the minister an Elvis impersonator?"

"And a First-Gen," Esme said. "What they call a Muggleborn here, because they call Muggles No-Majs in the US. So this marriage is legally binding in both mundane and magical worlds."

"You're married to Sophie legally, but as we are somewhat one entity…" Irma said, leaving it in the air.

"And, well, we consummated that marriage last night, in this room, which the casino only gives to high-rollers," Sophie said, blushing slightly, a blush shared by her sisters. "Well, I was the only one you actually coupled with physically, but my sisters…we shared senses, so the consummation was shared. And, well…for our first time, it was rather good."

The quintet nodded, their blush deepening. Well, to be complimented by her was an achievement, even if he couldn't remember coupling with her.

"And the diamonds? I had this weird vision of you all as living diamonds." Harry frowned when he remembered who their mother was. "Oh wait, Emma Frost can do that, can't she?"

"Of course," Celeste said, as the Cuckoos changed into diamond forms. Glittering and beautiful. "And so can we."

"Huh." Which was all Harry's mind, even with the hangover being suppressed, could come up with. Not the most intelligent of answers, but understandable, considering everything.

"I think his brain broke, Sophie," Esme remarked as they shifted back.

"It's a lot to take in," Sophie said. "He doesn't have a hive mind to share the load. Anyway, better that we ended up with him than Quire."

As one, they chorused, "Ewww."

"Quire?" Harry asked.

"Quentin Quire," Sophie explained. "AKA Kid Omega. A fellow psychic at Xavier's School for Higher Learning, a rival…and he has designs on us…well, me in particular."

"He's a pervert," Celeste said with a grimace. "We sometimes hear his thoughts."

They all shuddered in unison. Harry said, "So, you're okay with this?"

"Not really," Esme said.

"But…it could be much worse," Irma said.

"We liked what we saw in your mind," Phoebe said with a small smile.

"You'd fit in very well in the X-Men, even if you're not a Mutant," Sophie said.

"I'll have to take a raincheck on that," Harry said. "Marriage aside, I've got to get back home some time. Hey, speaking of which, do you happen to know what happened to my chaperones?"

"The werewolf and the shapeshifter?" Sophie asked. "Well…"


Remus was blinking the sleep from his eyes, and clutching his head, when he heard a voice from the bathroom door. "Well, we both had a good time last night, but I really shouldn't have done that. I was here as a favour for Charles to keep an eye on the others. I shouldn't have drunk as much as Tony when he's fallen off the wagon. Still, I'm sorry. You've still got a hangover, and I haven't."

Remus stared at the naked woman who was towelling herself off. The first thing he noticed was the emerald-coloured skin. The second thing that he noticed was her physique, muscled without being grotesque, and quite attractive, to say the least. So too was her face, framed by tresses of dark hair.

"Oh, right. You might not remember who I am. I remember who you are, Remus Lupin, so allow me to introduce myself. I'm Jennifer Walters, but some call me She-Hulk…"


Tonks was screaming her head off when she woke up, only to find a face like something out of a nightmare, riddled with lumps and scars. As she leapt out of bed, the man, who was wearing a red and black suit, yelped, "Hey, lady, calm down! We didn't sleep together, okay? I just came in here because, well, Quatermass found it funny, and frankly, so did I!"

Tonks stopped screaming. "…What?" she asked. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Just your friendly neighbourhood Deadpool. BTW, you didn't actually sleep with anyone last night, so you're not in THAT awkward a situation. You got a chivalrous one, he let you sleep on the bed while he used the couch. Just don't freak out about his looks."

"…What?" Tonks asked. Again.

"Wade? Is that you?" asked a voice with a German accent. "What are you doing in my hotel room?"

"Oh, just messing around, Kurt," Deadpool said, before he saluted. "Gotta fly!" And with that, he vanished in a strobe of light.

"I swear, he is like a cockroach," the man called Kurt complained, walking through into the bedroom.

Tonks just stared at the man who had walked in. Well, he didn't look like one. He was lithe and lean, with dark blue fur, yellow eyes, and pointed ears. A tail waved gently. If you looked past those elements, he was actually kind of handsome.

What's more, Tonks recognised him. Unlike many in the Order, she knew quite a bit about the superheroes of the world, and the X-Men in particular. "Umm, thanks for letting me have your bed."

"You're welcome. You had drunk a lot last night, you and your companions. You tried to drag me to some chapel run by a…how do you say in Britain? A Muggleborn? Yes. A Muggleborn dressed as Elvis Presley. I demurred, and, well, we got to talking some more, I couldn't find your friends, and…well, I brought you up here. I do not know why Wade was here, but he gets everywhere. Anyway, in case you have forgotten, allow me to introduce myself. I am…"

"Kurt Wagner, the Nightcrawler," Tonks said with a grin. "You've been with the X-Men, Excalibur…I used to have a poster of you in Excalibur a couple of years ago, along with Wolfsbane, Psylocke, and Colossus!"

Kurt seemed slightly nonplussed, but recovered. "Ah. Sorry, I was wearing my holographic disguise before. I thought my true appearance might frighten you. I'm glad that I was mistaken. I believe you said your name was Nymphadora Tonks?"

After a moment, Tonks said, "Kurt…well, assuming you don't mind me calling you by your first name…"

"Not at all."

"Thank you. Unfortunately, I'm going to have to be a hypocrite here, and ask that you don't call me by my first name. If you absolutely must, I'll be nice and let you call me Dora. I generally go by Tonks."

"What's wrong with Nymphadora, if you don't mind me asking?"

"My parents gave it to me. I got teased for it. Though I guess you probably got a lot more. Sorry, shouldn't have brought that up," Tonks said with a wince.

"It's all right," Kurt said with a wave of a three-fingered hand. "I've dealt with far worse from people who actually meant to insult me. Perhaps we should leave this for another time. I think we have charges we need to look out for."

Tonks winced. Yeah, he was right. She didn't know where Harry and Remus were. And as much as she admired the X-Men for being heroes, they also tended to be trouble magnets on a par with Harry. So she had better go and find them ASAP…

CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:

So, there it is. Harry's hooked up with the Cuckoos, Remus and She-Hulk have gotten hitched, and Nightcrawler has been chivalrous with Tonks…though that doesn't mean wedding bells aren't in the future.

1. Which was apparently the original intention of Stepford Cuckoos creator Grant Morrison, as a reference to the Spice Girls.