“I miss Putin,” Chava whined. She hugged Kitty’s stuffed bear tighter to her, letting the soft faux fur rub against the side of her face. She was on the other side of the room from Philip and Ricochet, sitting sideways in the plush, floral printed arm chair. The other two were stretched out on the bed, him on his back and her on her stomach.
“I really don’t want to hear you crying about your damn cat again,” Ricochet groaned.
“Yeah, well, I don’t care what you want to hear about!” she snapped back at her. She clenched the bear even close, her bottom lip quivering slightly.
Philip was not listening to either girl. He starred up at the ceiling, his arms crossed behind his head. Chava’s whining, a noise he was used to, was more like a fly buzzing in the back ground. And his body acknowledged Ricochet’s hand on his elbow, although he didn’t really feel it.
“You’re 20 years old, for fuck’s sake. I think you can handle a little separation from that stupid cat.”
“What does my age have anything to do with my emotional attachment to another living creature?”
“Who the hell talks like that? ‘Emotional attachment to another living creature.’ Just say what you’re thinking- You love your little Putin-Poo,” Ricochet teased in a baby voice and pouted.
“What the hell is their problem anyway?” Philip suddenly interrupted.
The two girls looked at him, then to each other, and then back at him.
“Uh, Phil, who are you taking about?” Chava asked.
“The X-Men, here,” he elaborated, “Why the hell couldn’t we go on the mission? I mean, I’m the fucking squad leader. They were acting like we’ve never even been on a mission before.”
Ricochet grinned and lightly shoved his chest, “Only a Summers would complain about a vacation.”
“This is not a vacation.” He quickly said. Then he sat up so he could look sternly at both of them, “This is a mission. *Our* mission. We’ve been here for almost three weeks now and we haven’t done shit. We have to find Brainwave.”
Chava shrugged, “Why? We have his machine.”
“His broken machine,” Philip corrected.
“Aw, come on,” Ricochet stretched out and propped her feet up on his lap, “David can fix it. And that big ol’ blue guy, whatever his name is, he’s always down there. That’s gotta mean he’s making some progress.”
“Or it means he’s *not* making any process and he’s desperately working on it because he can’t wait to get rid of us,” Chava’s face paled.
Ricochet cocked an eyebrow at her. “Paranoid much?”
“Both of you shut up. If they don’t want to do anything, then whatever. But starting tomorrow- we’re finding Brainwave.”
“Won’t that make them mad?” Chava wondered, “Us going behind their back like that?”
“Who the fuck cares?” the volume of his voice jumped.
“Right! Who the fuck cares?” Ricochet nodded but Philip frowned at her, noticing her obvious sarcasm.
“I’m serious,” he practically snarled. “We’re finding him, forcing the little shit to fix that damn thing and going home. I’m tired of this fucked up reality.”
“Aw, Philly-" Chava frowned at him.
“First, don’t call me ‘Philly’. Second, shut the hell up. We need to figure out when fucking night-stalker Logan *isn’t* in the Danger Room and get in some real training time.”
Immediately after the words left his mouth the door opened. But instead of the burly Wolverine, whom they all unconsciously expected, the much smaller David stepped in. He was fidgeting with the vast amounts of native jewelry that always hung around his neck when he looked up he saw the six wide eyes.
“What?” He asked confused.
Chava loudly sighed, her hand covering her heart, “You freaking scared me! You, your dad, and Logan, I never hear any of you coming! Jeez, wear some clogs or bells or something.”
He narrowed his eyes at her before shutting the door behind him, catching the drift that this was a ‘team only’ kind of discussion. Pulling out the chair at the desk he swung one leg around it and sat down, leaning over the back, “What’s up?”
“Have you figured out how to fix the machine?” Philip went straight to the point.
The boy snorted then shook his head, “No. I can’t even tell which way is up on that thing. And I’m tired of looking at it.”
“You can’t figure it out? Your dad is like a physics genius or something,” Chava’s voice began to crawl up the whining scale again.
“So? Your dad can cover himself in iron. And I don’t expect *you* to be an expert in that particular skill.”
“Its not iron...”
Ricochet rolled over on her back, replacing the tags that had fallen past her shoulder to their rightful place on her chest. She readjusted her feet in Philip’s lap and punched the pillow under her head twice until she was once again manage to find a comfortable position. “Alright, so you can’t fix it. What does that mean?”
“It means we find Brainwave, like I said,” Philip spoke up.
“Ugh!” Chava turned in her chair and stomped her foot on the ground. “But me and Peter have plans to go into the city and go the ballet.”
“The ballet?” Ricochet snorted, “Maybe your dad’s not exactly straight in this reality.”
“Excuse me. The Russian ballet is both art and physically demanding. And I DARE you to tell him that to his face. By the way, how many bottles of Advil have to downed since yesterday?” the short girl smirked at her.
Ricochet glared at her but was silenced from saying anything further by Philip, “I don’t give a shit if he told you he was taking you to the god damn mother land. We’re going after Brainwave, discussion over.”
“Well, well. Someone’s ‘leadership pants’ are getting a little tight aren’t they?”
“No. My 'leadership pants' fit just fine. It’s your ‘boy genius pants’ that evidently aren’t the right size anymore.”
“Now, see,” Chava stuck her finger out at him, “The metaphor worked alright with him, but you over did it a little, Philly.”
He gritted his teeth and tightly clenched his eyes closed. Anger, frustration, annoyance, all were backing up on him. “Fifteen years I’ve been telling you to stop calling me that. Fifteen years. Keep it up and I’m going to start adding laps to your workout.”
“‘Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely’- the great Lord Acton,” David quoted, shaking his head at the other boy.
“Yeah, well, form a union.”
“You forgot ‘and bite me’.” Ricochet smirked.
He flicked her foot then added, “And bite me.”
“Quite mature. Anyway, if we’re going into full mission mode then I’m going to go enjoy my evening, trip to the city?” David suggested and looked between them for a sign of agreement.
But before any of them could answer the door opened again and four instead of three people jumped in surprise. However this time it wasn’t eased open, but instead the wood quickly jerked out of the way and Logan was immediately in the room. The leather of his uniform was still slicked with sweat and grim. He scanned the room, eyeing them all, then cocked an eyebrow at the shocked and guilty look covering their faces.
“I have to tell you something...” he started, though remained weary, his mind left the topic he originally came for. Now he just wanted to know what the hell was up.
“The floor is all yours, Big Wolfy” Chava winked at him. He turned his head to glare at her. But then she noticed where he was looking and quickly hid the stuff animal behind her. Her attitude instantly died into embarrassment and she coughed to cover up the quick transition.
“Anyway,” He looked back to the others, “I got a surprise for you little rug rats. We found that little scrawny dude you were talking about, evidently he’s with Magneto now.”
“Magneto?...” David searched his head for some memory of the name. It sounded very familiar to him, but for some reason he couldn’t pin point it.
“Yeah. He’s an old, metal twisting fuck head.”
“Oh!” Ricochet chuckled slightly, “You mean Uncle Eric. This is great! So everything is taken care of?”
Logan visibly flinched when she said the words and rubbed his forehead. “I never, NEVER, better hear you call him ‘Uncle Eric’ again, is that clear? What the fuck kinda world did you brats come from? Magneto is not a good guy. In fact, he’s on top of the Kill Instantly, Asshole list. We have to get that straight immediately if ya’ll are going to be here. And he said that Brain fucker wants his gadget back, and he’s more than willingly to help, so prepare for some serious shit.”
“We’re always prepared for serious shit.” The challenge was clear in Philip’s tone, but Logan made himself ignore it. He purposely tried to avoid the boy. It was like being in the same room with him was, well, just wrong. The kid seemed to not have a problem with it. If he wasn’t with the other three he just stayed to himself completely.
“Good.” He couldn’t help the warning growl, however.
“Right!” David jumped up from his chair, eager to release the tension building in the tiny room. “I’m going to go see who else wants to come with us tonight.”
“Oh, I’m coming with you!” Chava quickly jogged the three steps over to him and grabbed his hand, desperately trying to leave as well. The two of them all but ran out of the room, flashing Logan timid smiles as they pushed past him to get through the door.
Philip, Logan, and Ricochet remained in the now completely silent room. Both guys were looking at each other, judging each other– sizing the other up. Ricochet looked from one to the other, uncertain if she should step between them. Instead she remained back because technically there was nothing to step between.
When the seconds began to eat away at her like hours she decided to react, afraid for her own sanity if the silence continued. Slowly she lifted to sit up, Philip helped by steading her arms until she was completely upright.
“Um, Phil, why don’t you help David pick a location so we don’t end up spending the entire night at some art museum?” She suggested and made sure her eyes clearly read that she didn’t care what he did, as long as left the room.
He frowned at her then looked backed to Logan for one last glare. Logan in response crossed his arms over his chest and took one step to the left, making the doorway open for him. Philip nodded at her and got off the bed. Neither guy looked at the other when he walked past him and out the door.
“So,” Ricochet smiled, “mission go well?”
“Saved some whiny humans. Clawed Sabertooth up for a little bit. Same old, same old.”
“Good.” She nodded and glanced at the clock on the wall out of the corner of her eye.
“So what’s the deal with you and Summers jr.?”
That caught her attention and her eyes widen at him, “Deal? What deal? There’s no deal.”
“His hand was on your ankle.”
She rolled her eyes and got off then bed, making her way to the other side of the room. “His hand was on my ankle? I see what you mean. Damn, Logan, maybe I should take a pregnancy test.”
He uncrossed his arms and took a look into the hall way to check and make sure no one was out there. When he was sure the coast was clear he raised his voice slightly, “You can keep your attitude and shit, I don’t need it. You two were on the god damn bed together and his hand was inside your fucking pant leg.”
Anger was now beginning to well up in her and her cold eyes leveled with his. “You know, this sounds like a ‘eat your vegetables’ talk and I believe we agreed that was outside your responsibilities.”
“Then you should thank me. I’m doing it for free.”
“Well then, you can thank me. ‘Cuz me telling you 'to fuck off, I’m going out with my friends’ is free too.” She jerked her jacket off the closet doorknob and stormed past him, making sure to violently collide with his shoulder on her way out.
Logan remained in the door way, just standing there staring off into space. After a few seconds he shook his head and swore “Fuck!” And marched out of the room, slamming the door so hard behind him it bounced four times against its frame.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I wanted to explore these characters I’ve created a little bit more and the ‘sibling’ feel between them. I promise this will be the only chapter centered on them. Plus, I’ve added a few hints about David’s dad. Side line game: if you figure out who his dad is then you win...um....uh...5 points! Yes, that’s right. The 5 greatest, best looking points that there ever was! Good luck!