1X03 – Alekhine’s Gun – Tag | X-Men: The (fan fic) Series

1X03 – Alekhine’s Gun – Tag

1X03 – Alekhine’s Gun – Tag

“Hey, Kitty,” James caught up with the girl as she was walking down the hall towards the rec room, “I can’t be your sparring partner after class Monday, I’m covering Ben’s shift in the motor pool.”

“That’s okay,” Kitty nodded at him as they walked into the room together, “it’ll probably be more of me making a fool of myself.”

“You’re learning,” JP was standing at the pool table with Logan and Bobby who was lining up his shot, “takes time to hone skills and find what works for you.”

“What works for me, huh?” she raised an eyebrow and looked between them, still remembering the ‘weakling’ comment Bobby made about her the day before.

Her eyes falling in line with Wolverine’s he gave her the most imperceptible nod as he if he knew what she was thinking…

Striking out at the biggest threat first, JP, Kitty drove her foot into his gut. Being that he was completely unsuspecting of the attack he did nothing to soften or avoid the blow and it sent him reeling. He may be invulnerable but he still felt the pain of pressure. Using the fact that he was now bent at the waste she drove her elbow into the point between his neck and back and sent him to the floor.

Turning rapidly she grabbed the stunned James’ arm and twisted, pulling him forward and pivoting to throw him over her shoulder onto a vacant chair which happened to be nearby.

Bobby was next, phasing through the pool table Kitty solidified as soon as she was clear and planted her hands on the edge of the table. Pushing off she lifted both feet and struck him square in the chest and he went flying back against Wolverine who caught the man and then let him fall to the floor relatively unharmed.

Seeing that all three men were still down, Kitty threw up her hands and let out a big “Woo who!!!!” while jumping up and down, the rest of the students staring slack-jawed at her.

Wolverine gave her an approving grin, he was right, she could use her seemingly ‘unthreatening’ nature to give her the advantage of a sneak attack.

JP grabbed the edge of the pool table and dragged himself up, staring at Kitty with a look between anger, disbelief, embarrassment, and approval.

She chewed on her lip, “I’m getting detention for this, aren’t I?”

“Oh, yeah,” JP said a tad breathlessly as the other two men struggled to their feet.

Kitty grinned, “So worth it.”

…

It was late when the hired car pulled up to drop Jean, Scott and Betsy back at the Xavier School.

“That was fun,” Betsy smiled at Scott, “you should get dressed up more often.”

Scott wasn’t exactly sure what to say to that but thankfully the girl sauntered off down the hall before he had a chance to respond.

“Well,” Jean fidgeted with her hair, “goodnight, Scott.”

“Goodnight, Jean,” he smiled at her and after an awkward moment of silence between them, the woman turned to head towards the stairs. “Jean…”

“Yes, Scott?” she turned partially towards him.

“You, ah, you looked very good tonight,” he immediately wanted to kick himself for his stumbling.

“Thank you,” she smiled, “you too.”

He watched as she ascended the stairs and let out a long sigh. Maybe one of these days he’d actually work up the courage to ask her out… but he took solace in knowing it probably wouldn’t be a good idea anyway seeing as they were friends and coworkers.

…

A Ford Mustang pulled up to a converted warehouse somewhere in New York City, hidden from the prying eyes of the government and Xavier’s Cerebro. The garage door opened and the vehicle slipped inside, once there, the four Acolytes immerged, tired and worn.

It had been too long since they had been back to this place.

Heading through the multi-car garage, they walked into the expanse of a living area complete with a fifty-two inch television in front of couches and chairs. Off to the side through an arch was a full gym. A full service kitchen was set towards the back. It was a bachelor’s paradise with a bit of a woman’s touch.

Above it, a second story was lined with several locked doors, each with names or symbols on them denoting who they belonged to, such a flammable sign on Pyro’s. A keen eye would note that there were more than four rooms.

“Be it ever so humble,” Pyro said reverently as they unceremoniously dropped their duffels on the ground.

“No place like home,” Rogue finished the quote, heading towards the stairs, “I’m taking a very long bubble bath, no one bother me unless it’s the Apocalypse.”

“Someone is going to have to restock the kitchen,” Dom commented as he headed in that direction to see what food they had left.

“Not it,” Pyro flopped down on the sofa, snatching the remote from the table.

Rogue was still dressed in her tattered clothing and couldn’t wait to get into something more comfortable and covered much more skin. As she headed to her room she passed a door which bore no name, only a pentagram.

…

In a completely different region of New York City, a cab pulled up outside a typical looking brick apartment building. Nothing overly fancy, modest even, or as close as the City got to modest before falling into the slums.

The bulky figure of Piotr paid off his cabby and headed inside. He trudged up the stairs with heavy steps, not so much tired of body but of soul. At least no one really got hurt this time. A few bruises, a possible concussion or two, but nothing that couldn’t be recovered from.

His apartment was sparsely furnished, a simple card table and folding chairs in the kitchenette, a worn sofa in front of a modest television. However, the space was not empty. Canvases of every size were stacked against each other on any available wall space. The coffee table in front of the sofa was littered with bottles of paint and brushes. The walls themselves were hung with beautiful landscapes of his home in Siberia…

Next to the window was an easel with his current work in process.

Sitting down on the stool in front of it, he opened the curtain to let in light. Grabbing a bottle of distilled water he filled his paint brush cup then poured some pigments onto his board. With every new brushstroke he attempted to forget why he was there, why he was doing this, but the reasons were never far from his mind.

Just beyond the canvas, always in his eye line, was a simple framed photo of two people. The taller one was Piotr himself, smiling shyly at the camera. The other was of a younger blonde haired girl, and while they did not share the same hair coloring, there was no mistaking the shape of the eyes and line of the jaw…

His snowflake.

On the next episode of X-Men: The (fan fic) Series…

— “A new mutant has manifested, somewhere outside Juneau, Alaska.” – Xavier
“Aren’t you from Alaska?” – Jean-Paul to Scott

—“SCOTT!” – young!Alex
“ALEX!” – young!Scott

—“Jim Colt? Your personal stylist is Jim Colt?” – Meg

—“I’d like to speak with Mr Silvercloud.” – Storm
“Do you have an appointment?” – Receptionist
“Tell him, it looks like it might storm.”

—A plane roughly flies through the stormy night, lighting strikes it…

—“Figured since I was back in town I’d go see Irene.” – Rogue

—“Damn it, Scott, I need you to do this for me, okay.” – Christopher Summers

—“Forge…” – Storm

Episode 1X04 – Midsummer Night’s Dream

1X03 – Alekhine’s Gun

Written by JayCee

Based off Marvel Comics’ X-Men created by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby,
with Chris Claremont.

Adapted for Television by JayCee

Executive Producer – JayCee
Co-Producer – Chellerbelle
Script Consultant – ginchy

Shooting Location: The Cloisters – Metropolitan Museum of Art – NYC

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X-Men: The (fan fic) Series

A series of short stories in a fictional X-Men TV Universe.