Disclaimer: The concept of Subreality belongs to Kielle, I believe, and I greatly appreciate being able to play around in it for a while. Peggy’s mine, but (as much as I wish otherwise) all the other characters belong to Marvel, so I’m obviously not making any money off them. Sheesh. Don’t you have more important things to worry about?
This
whole story is Mike’s fault, all right?
I take no responsibility.
(Unless you liked it. <g>
Then send feedback to ra_1013@yahoo.com)
“All right, Bobby, enough of the Mr.
Mysterious routine. Why don’t you just
tell me whatever this big secret is, okay?”
Peggy smiled and put her arms around Bobby’s neck and whispered, “Or was
this just an elaborate plan for us to have some time alone?”
“Peggy, I—I can’t do this anymore,”
Bobby said, dodging her descending lips and shaking out of her embrace. “I can’t deny my feelings anymore! I’m—I’m quitting the X-Men.”
“Quitting the X-Men!” she exclaimed
in shocked disbelief. “What are you
talking about?”
“I’m joining X-Force. I’m…in love. And I want to give it a chance.”
“In love? With who? Meltdown? I’ll kill her!”
“No, not Meltdown. I…god, this is hard.” Bobby looked over towards the doorway
beseechingly. A figure stepped out of
the shadows and came to stand by him.
“You?” Peggy whispered, stunned.
Nathan put his hands on Bobby’s
shoulders. “I’m sorry, little
sister. Neither of us wanted to hurt
you.”
“We just can’t keep denying who we
are,” Bobby explained. He looked over
his shoulder at the man behind him.
“Our true feelings.”
“Y-y-you and Nathan?” Peggy
stammered, her eyes wide with horror.
She whispered hoarsely, “I can’t believe you’d do this to me.” She ran past the couple and down the hall,
her sobs echoing back to the two men.
“I hated to have to do that,” Bobby
confessed, looking after Peggy.
“We had to,” Nathan said simply,
squeezing Bobby’s shoulders.
“I know,” Bobby whispered. Then he turned around and looked into
Nathan’s eyes. “Now that I’ve got you
alone…”
“STOP!”
Both men blinked and looked over at
Peggy, standing in the doorway with fury etched in every line of her body. Nathan looked down at Bobby. “Was that in the script?”
“No,” Peggy snapped, “but this has
gone far enough! What kind of
idiotic idea was this?!”
“Peg, calm down,” Bobby hushed her
urgently. He looked around nervously,
as if expecting someone to pop out of mid-air.
“Do you want to invoke the Writer?”
“Yes! She’s got some explaining to do!”
“This is your fault anyway, you
know,” Nathan said irritably. He was
supposed to meet Dom at the Café soon.
He just wanted to get this flonqing scene over with. “If you hadn’t been so stubborn—“
“Me? You’re not blaming this on me!”
Peggy had moved into full rant-mode by now, stalking around the room and
waving her arms energetically. “That
demented woman had some bad chocolate, if you ask me!”
“Be quiet!” Nathan snapped. “Do you want to make it worse?”
“How could it possibly get
worse?” Peggy shouted.
Right on cue, pieces of paper
fluttered down from the ceiling. Bobby
just shut his eyes and sighed as one landed on his head. Nathan looked at the paper as if it was
poisonous. “Now what have you done?”
Peggy snatched a page out of the air
and skimmed over it quickly. “Oh no!”
she exclaimed. “She is not allowed
to make Sinister my father! That—is—twisted
and evil and—and—how can that woman sleep at night?”
“Peg, please,” Bobby
whispered, looking over his shoulder worriedly.
“Too late,” Nathan intoned. His tone might have been called gleeful if
hadn’t come from Cable, the man whose idea of a good time involved very large
guns and lots of bad guys to use them on.
This was worth being late to meet Dom for. His Writer’s manifestations were rare, and this one promised to
be fun…since he wasn’t on the receiving end.
Sure enough, a woman appeared beside
Bobby, making the other man yelp as a chair leg materialized right on top of
his foot. The woman had dark brown hair
confined haphazardly in a clip and wore a green sweatshirt emblazoned with the
words, “Reality is for people who lack imagination”. She was perched in a gray swivel chair in a position that defied
several laws of physics, a laptop resting on her knees. She took a bite out of giant chocolate bar
and smiled winningly at the trio. “Hey
guys.”
“Andrea! Hi!” Bobby smiled at the
Writer, ignoring the throbbing pain in his foot. “You know, you look fabulous today. Have you lost some weight?”
Andrea looked over her shoulder,
eyebrow raised. “Forget it, Bobby. You’re not getting that scene. I told you, I write for family archives.”
“Aw, nuts.” Bobby retreated to a corner to pout. Andrea turned her attention to Peggy. Fictive and Writer locked
identically-stubborn stares.
“What’s wrong, Peggy?” Andrea asked,
all innocence. “Don’t like the new
story?”
“Wasn’t that the point?” Peggy shot
back. “Oh come on! Bobby and Nathan? Isn’t that a little extreme just to punish
me?”
“You brought it on yourself. I’m not any happier than you are, but I
warned you. You know how hard
I’ve been trying to get your next story out!
It would be written by now if you’d just stop being so bloody stubborn!”
“But I don’t like it!”
Andrea sternly replied, “That’s
hardly important. You think Bobby and
Nathan really wanted to kiss?”
“Well…”
“They were being
professional!” Andrea overrode insistently.
“You can’t stop all progress on a story just because you don’t like it!”
“Seems like that’s just what I’ve
been doing,” Peggy returned petulantly, crossing her arms and turning her back
on the Writer.
Andrea’s eyes flashed
dangerously. Nathan gulped and took a
step back. Fingers flew over the
keyboard, and suddenly the wall exploded.
Sinister and his Marauders stood framed in the jagged hole.
“X-Men!” Sinister proclaimed
grandly. “You shall be the first to
witness the awesome spectacle of my new Marauders!”
The three fictives automatically
tensed as the Marauders leapt through the hole and—
—began to dance to the delicate
strains of Tschaichovsky that suddenly filled the room.
Peggy’s jaw dropped. Bobby started to snicker. Nathan couldn’t help laughing as Sinister
joined in, surprisingly grateful for an evil scientist. Oh, he couldn’t wait until he got back to
the Café! The Marauders doing ballet
was worth a few rounds, at least.
Andrea looked over at Peggy. “Have I made my point?”
Peggy nodded vigorously, unable to
tear her eyes away from the gruesome spectacle. Andrea smiled smugly and tapped a few keys. The Marauders abruptly stopped dancing,
looked around at themselves, and fled in horror.
Sinister straightened his shredded
cape with wounded dignity. He fixed
Peggy with a frosty glare. “Really,
daughter. Do try to consider where your
misplaced stubbornness will land the rest of us in the future.” With a nod to the Writer, Sinister exited
after his Marauders.
“All right, I give,” Peggy moaned,
sinking into a chair. “Just please
stop.”
“Hrm. Well, since you said please.
All right, go,” she waved her hands vaguely, “have a drink or
something. I’ll finish your story
tomorrow. Right?”
“Right,” Peggy muttered,
defeated.
Andrea grinned triumphantly. “Tell the Marauders to have a drink on
me. Now, I’ve got some research to finish.” She tapped a key and disappeared.
“You know, I kinda wish she’d do
something flashier,” Bobby muttered.
“Lights, smoke. It’s freaky when
she’s just not there any more.”
Thunder crashed, brightly-colored
strobe lights flashed from all corners, and blue smoke filled the room. Bobby choked on the smoke. “Much better,” he croaked.
Nathan waved a hand to clear away
some of the smoke. “I don’t know about
you two, but I’m going to the Café before she gets any more ideas.” He walked away, muttering about flonqing
stubborn women. Before he could get out
of the room, there was another clap of thunder and a frog landed on his
head. He gave a long-suffering sigh and
just kept walking. He really needed a
drink.
Bobby looked over at Peggy. “What do you say we head to the Café until the Writer’s ready for us?”
“Sounds like a plan to me. I just think I’d better avoid Sinister for a
while.”
As the couple walked off into the
mists of Subreality, Bobby said, “I’m glad you’re finally cooperating on all
this.”
Peggy laughed. “Come on, Bobby. You know me better than that!”
The mists swirled around them and
they disappeared until their Writer called for them again.