Title: Feral Attractions Part 3
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters presented in this work of fanfiction with the exception of Heather and Todd, the bartender. I make no money from this simple story and only slightly more from my day job.
AN: I have reformed some characters to fit this story and you may be surprised by or despised by what I've done but if you flame me for them, I'll just make s'mores.
**************************************************************************************************
Feral Attractions
Part 3: When It Rains Lucky Charms
Victor Creed glared at the short man hunched over the kitchen table, a growl forming deep in his throat as the annoying slurping sound got increasingly louder.
::: sllllurrrrp :::
A muscle in his eye jumped reflexively. Damn, that shit got his nerves. It was a million times worse than nails on a blackboard.
::: sllll.... .:::
Mortimer Toynbee jumped away from the table, startled as suddenly his bowl was ripped right out of his hand and flung six feet across the room with a shattering clarity. His eyes bugged out at the remnants of his mid morning breakfast raining down the granite walls in stunned disbelief. That had been the last of the Lucky Charms in the entire place.
"Christ, Vic...Why'd you have to throw my bleedin' cereal across the room? I ain't cleaning that shit up."
The taller man grunted. "I told ya how much that shit got on my nerves didn't I, ya lil'prick."
"Ehh, well.... I told you to fuck off."
Pitch black eyes narrowed in warning. "Watch it little man. I ain't in the mood for your cocky bullshit today."
"Oh, am I supposed to be frightened by that, Ape Face?" the olive hued man huffed, completely unfazed.
The deep roaring growl caused him to flinch. His gaze flickered to the mess of purple and green and oat cereal making its slow slide to the floor. Perhaps, the big guy was really mad this time, he reasoned. It was very rare that Sabretooth resorted to any sort of physical outburst inside their home. Okay, well it was more of an cavern rather than a conventional house but it had all the conveniences. But that was beside the point, he had more pressing matters to consider.
"What the hell is your problem?" Mortimer asked, failing miserably at trying to soften his tone. He really liked Lucky Charms.
"You, ya little fuck faced bastard." Victor sneered, his teeth baring as he glared at the target of his frustrations.
"I highly doubt that, Victor." Mort commented. He'd been wide awake when Victor stormed into the fortress in the wee hours of the morning. He always stayed up late, that was when the best movies came on the telly. Last night he'd known better than to say anything to the obviously outraged giant. He should have retained that wisdom this morning. But being the smartass he was, he let the words fly out of his mouth anyway. "What happened? Did the little X-bitch turn on you?"
Shit. He knew he should have kept his mouth shut. 'Shit. Shit. Shit.' he swore to himself, as he tried in vain to pull his face away from the table. Or at least he should have said it from more than 3 feet away. He'd forgotten how fast Victor could move. Wincing against the painful burn of the five talon-like claws digging into his flesh, he tried to think of something a little less maddening to say as he felt his head being lifted from the table. Opening his mouth to speak, he was cut off as his head was slammed back into against the gleaming aluminum surface he swore he felt his brain jostle. Blinking back stars, Toad tried his best to recall how to form a sentence and was just beginning to stutter out a half-assed apology, when a familiar voice relieved him of that awful task.
"Boys, boys, boys. What have I told you about playing with your food." Raven Darkholme scolded as she lounged against the door. "I suggest one of you clean that mess up before those little marshmallow thingies become permanant attachments.
Victor rolled his eyes in annoyance as he took in her outfit, but at least it managed to distract him from reconstructing Toad's forehead. As usual, Mystique showed more skin than cloth when she managed to get dressed. Most times she didn't even bother with clothes, but he knew she had one of her little jobs today. He heard Mort give a low moaning sigh as he slowly released his grip.
"When are you gonna give this up, Raven?" he asked ignoring the bleeding man on the table for the moment.
"When I manage to find someone the world will listen to and believe in more than Robert Kelly." she replied with more directness than he expected.
"It's a stupid game yer playin', frail. Dangerous and stupid." he told her, folding his massive arms.
Her yellow eyes flickered like liquid gold as her temper flared. "No, what's stupid is sitting around here like a bunch of puppets with no strings just because Eric is locked away in that damned plastic bubble."
Toad took the opportunity to slip away from the table, knowing Victor was distracted for the moment. He needed a wrap for his freaking head.
"Don't ever call me stupid again, Creed." Mystique warned through clenched teeth.
"Yer gonna get found out, Rave. You came way too close last time with that shit you pulled with Senator Dickwad." "Then I guess I'd better watch my back." she said, in dismissal turning to stroll out the kitchen as she began morphing into her latest persona.
He followed her, grabbing her arm which was now half its original Prussian blue tone and a golden brown tanned shade. He took no notice of her brilliant blue-gray eyes as he spoke. "You'd better do more than watch your back. I don't want you getting yerself killed."
"Oh, how sweet Victor. If I didn't know better I might actually think you cared." the shape shifter said softly, her nails digging into arm belied her tone as she attempted to pry away his vice-like grip.
"I just don't wanna be gettin' you back in a body bag, Raven." he said, releasing her. "Be careful."
She was still angry, as she flipped her suddenly curly mane of sun-streaked hair over her shoulder arranging it carefully as she spoke. "Why don't you save your pitiful concern for your little girlfriend. Believe me, it is wasted on me." She didn't miss the tightening of his jaw at the mention of his favorite person in the world. She somehow managed to quell the quick surge of hope that sprung up as she took in his pained expression.
Victor pushed away thoughts of Ororo took the back his mind. She was not a subject he was ready to speak casually about just yet.
"Just come back alive." he said to the beautiful, perky looking blonde figure before him. Even he had to admit she looked exactly like Senator Barstow's new mistress, whom Mystique spent the past few day studying on news clips. An The same woman who was now missing her lovely blonde head as she rotted away in a New Jersey dumpster. He was not very familiar with the face she wore but he knew the woman inside and did not miss the softening in her eyes.
"I will." Mystique promised, leaning up as far as her stilettos would allow to press a tiny kiss to his rough cheek.
Victor Creed watched the woman he'd worked with off and on for most of his adult life saunter out the door and he shook his head and frowned. He hated that Mystique never touched him like that while in her original form. As if she feared he would push her away. Didn't she realize that it was her deep seated insecurity and not her blue skin that kept him from responding to the attraction he knew she'd felt for him for the past twelve years. Victor had long given up hope that she'd allow herself to just be Raven Darkholme again. She'd lost herself along time ago behind all those many faces she'd adopted over the years.
Releasing a long sigh, he headed up the winding stairs to go check on Mort. He hated loosing his temper and bringing his own alter persona into the fortress they all called home. Maybe he'd go out later and scare up a box of Lucky Charms.