Snowed
an X-Men story
by Liberty Belle
"I would have thought you better equipped for the snow, Kurt," Jean mused, pulling her legs delicately against her chest and wrapping her arms around them. The fireplace blaze was kind to the dark red hue of her hair, painting her in warm tones upon the dark green of the sitting room couch, as if she were a spirit of the flames themselves. The X-Man under her address, German-born Kurt Wagner, was still trying to pull himself out of his wet clothes, having spent the better half of the afternoon tutoring some of the new students out in the December snow. Lessons had eventually given over to a snowball fight, however, and while the mutant known as Nightcrawler could skillfully dodge Sentinel rays and Toad's wicked tongue, when it came down to some forty-odd slushballs being directed at his blue hide, it turned out his evasive techniques needed some work.
"The fur is deceiving, nein?", he chuckled, removing his jacket and hanging it near the fire, leaving himself in custom-cut leggings and a dark brown turtleneck. Dropping into a crouch, he extended his hands towards the fire, splaying them open--three fingers each--towards the hard swell of its warmth. "It is blessing and bane, I'm afraid... it keeps me warm until it gets the slightest bit wet, und then I am nothing but a cold, soggy elf."
"Did they get you good?" the telekinetic chuckled, relaxing her legs and moving towards him, ruffling his lapis-colored curls. They were surprisingly wet, stiff little crystals of ice having formed--or, perhaps, become lodged--amidst the dark squiggles. "Oh wow--they really did, didn't they?"
"Little monsters," he grinned, the upward curl of his lips bringing to light one pale, slender canine. "If they learn to wield their powers half so well as they wield snowballs, we'll have nothing to fear from the Brotherhood of Mutants..." He sat still, smiling faintly up at Jean as she began to caress the soft fur of his face, touching him as the old Gypsy women once did-marvelingly, affectionately. As with anything soft, it was difficult not to let the hands indulgently linger, and he had become accustomed to such caresses.
"You are so incredibly soft," she smiled, evoking from him a purring chuckle.
"Ja, I have been told. I'm afraid I cannot feel my own fur so very well..." Her fingertips, with all the gentility of a blind woman, traveled over his brow and cheekbones, then across his eyes, which he closed quietly, serenely, as she explored his thin Aryan features. Even his eyelids were covered by that short indigo fur, like fine velveteen on his face, through it grew slightly thicker elsewhere. Jean touched his closed lips boldly and, when she saw his nostrils minutely flare in mute surprise, interestedly stroked the soft tip of one forefinger between them, and down into the shallow cleft of his upper lip. "You really do have it all over, don't you?"
Kurt's strong, thick fingers wrapped around her wrist suddenly; not grasping, but gently diverting her hand from his face. Slightly ashamed, having let herself get caught up in her exploration, Jean smiled in apology.
"Oh--I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable--"
"Nein, liebling," he stopped her, releasing his hand from her wrist and holding her fingers instead, is if meaning to bring them to his lips for a gentlemanly kiss. The man's shadowed features flickered weakly as he tried to smile at her, and could barely hold the expression. "You didn't, but I didn't want to..." Still with her hand poised in front of him, Kurt's other hand slipped suddenly to his face, closing his nostrils in a tight pinch. Jean started, gasping, as his head rocked forward under the contained explosion, eyes viced into tight wrinkles.
"Heh--Nnxt!" He released his nose, the glow of his eyes guttering as he exhaled a heavy, "Excuse me, liebchen," and then planted a kiss upon her waiting knuckles.
"Kurt--God bless you! Uhr... I didn't make you sneeze, did I?"
With a slight, sharkish grin he released her hand, closing his eyes as she resumed the gentle touching of his face--this time along his vaulted cheekbones, down towards his chin.
Reassuring, "I vould not worry," he explained. "I think I'm catching a slight sniffle... I had been trying to sneeze half the afternoon. If anything, you only helped."
"Catching cold?" Jean lost her smile, switching her hands to his shoulders and using her powers to turn his face towards her, so that he could look at nothing but her stern eyes. "You're catching cold, and you spent all day outside, getting slushballs hurled at you?"
"Not a cold--a sniffle," he let a smile curl rakishly at his lips. "There is a difference. You see?" And to illustrate, he sniffled for her, giving the underside of his nose a rub, and his eyes a little squint. "Now I've sniffled, and I'm better."
Jean, already wise to the ways of the swashbuckling charmer, wasn't buying it. She planted herself cross-legged alongside him, sharing in the warmth of the fire as she folded her arms.
"Except you sneezed, which makes it a cold."
"But you made me sneeze, remember?"
"You just said I only helped."
Hm. Caught. Shrewdly smiling, Kurt rubbed at his chin. There had to be a way out of this.
Jean said unexpectedly, smirking and arching a red brow, "There's no way out of this."
"Ach! No fair reading my thoughts--"
"I didn't have to. It's as plain as the nose on your face--", and here she reached out again, planting her fingertip to the end of his nose and moving it back and forth by the tiniest fraction. Nightcrawler's features became so immediately weak--mouth opening, nostrils twitching into a flare, Jean realized she had to finish what she'd started. Focusing on his nose as he pinched it at its bridge, Jean imagined the softness of a long, slender feather, forcing this kinetic sensation upon him. There was nothing at all between them as they sat there, but Kurt's struggle for self control was foiled as he felt the non-feather being inserted past one fuzzy nostril, tickling the deepest point of his nose.
Unprepared, he rubbed at his nose, unable to relieve himself of an irritant that was not actually there.
"Jean," he wavered, one hand flattening at his chest as the other pressed up against the underside of his nose, battling for control. "Vas ist? I'll sneeze if you don't--" He snarled suddenly, clasping his hand over his nose and wrenching forward, releasing a viciously satisfying, "Heh--IISSSH!"
Jean let him recover himself, dropping back in his crouch and beginning to search himself for a handkerchief.
"Ach... was that you?" he asked, pinching his nose closed when he realized no handkerchief was in sight.
"Yeah... not a bad trick, hm? I use it on Wolverine when he gets a little too fresh. Kurt," she laughed suddenly, reaching forward to brush across his cheeks with her thumb. "Your poor eyes are watering."
"Ja... und now my nose runs," he chuckled, rueful and nasal, keeping his nose pinched. "Remind me never to get fresh wiss you!"
"Do you need a handkerchief?"
"It vould be appreciated... I seem to have forgotten mine, und I'd rather not sneeze again just yet."
Rising to her feet, touching his shoulder before passing towards one of the desk drawers, Jean admitted, "...I'm not sure if we have any in here, but I'll look. Sit tight."
Sighing towards the fire, thick thumb and forefinger still closing his nose, he coughed a single time, "I have a choice?"
A search of the drawer, however, revealed nothing but jumbled papers and notes--nothing at all that would save him from his embarrassment. She came back to the fireside, exasperated, only to find him delicately curling a forefinger to the tip of his nose, fighting back another sneeze.
"I can't seem to find any.... uh-oh..."
He breathed uneasily, voice tremulous as he weakly slit his eyes open. "I have them in my room... but I don't sink I can 'port--"
"Just let yourself sneeze first, for heaven's sake," she chided, beginning to kneel alongside him again. "Then you can go upstairs."
"Not while my nose is running," he protested, shivered in a sniffling inhale, then let it out again slowly, weakly. He was alarmed, a moment later, to feel the prickle of a telekinetic feather probing at his sinuses again, a sensation keen enough that he could even detect the soft, invisible fibers of it as it was wriggled in one nostril. "Ach--Jean, I'll sneeze!"
"That's the idea, Elf..."
Her hand fell between his shoulderblades, rubbing in a small circle as she kept her eyes focused upon his profile, and the stiff poise of his finger beneath his German nose. His breathing was growing shaky... she touched the tip of the imagined feather further, tickling it as deeply as she could. His blue features spasmed into tiny twitches, and Kurt suddenly wrenched forward, sneezing explosively into both hands.
"HehIIISSSSHH!"
Nightcrawler was, among the X-Men, one of its softer sneezers. Rarely did they sound the same way twice, although he was usually so polite about them, sometimes even excusing himself entirely from the room before he released them quietly against one hand. Some unknown pollen in the springtime sometimes sent him into tiny, unexpectedly fitful sneezes for minutes at a time, and when he caught the occasional cold they were louder and more forceful, auidbly wet, but never so bellowing as someone like Wolverine or--to everyone's misery--Piotr. She'd never heard him sneeze with such force before, nor seem so visibly drained afterwards.
Jean guided an arm around his back, letting him rise with her assistance, though his hands remained closely cupped around his nose and mouth.
"Poor Fuzzy," she soothed, and leaned to kiss his temple. "Did that feel better, at least?"
"Ja, but," he turned towards her slightly, gold eyes wet, hands still in place. "...If you have tissues... any'sing. If I sneeze again, I'm going to be in a very bad way. His eyes thinned to crescents as he tried to joke, "I'll even settle for the scratchy stuff."
"Let's get you upstairs..." She began to lead him, unprotesting, from the sitting room and through the foyer, then up the curving stairway to the second floor. His hands never moved. "You were good enough to entertain the kids all day. I haven't had a day off, while Scott's been away, in months... my turn to treat you."
"Treat me?", he sniffled liquidly at the top of the stairs, and unexpectedly sneezed again, a horribly fluid, "KSCHH!", that made even Jean flinch in sympathy.
"Ugh... poor Crawler... you need tissues..."
"Please", he practically pleaded, afraid to move. Jean excused herself in a flash, dashing into her bedroom and returning a few seconds later with a small cube of tissues. His tail wrapped around it, and Kurt turned away from her, facing the corner as he relieved himself of any danger of impropriety. Cleaning himself up quickly, he snatched another handful of tissues, and bunched his features as he strenuously blew his nose. "...Ach," he sighed gratefully in-between breaths. "You brought me the soft ones, even--you love me!" ...and blew again, head bowing down and shoulders tightening with effort.
Knowing him to be a stickler for such things, Jean even went so far as to turn her back, folding her hands behind her as he snatched out more tissues. By the time he was on his fourth hard blow, and still without any easing of the heavily congested sound of each release, Jean looked back at him, worried. She saw his back straighten with a deep breath and then bend towards the corner again, blowing a fifth time, still just as stuffy.
"Kurt?" she fretted. He tossed the tissues into the hallway waste can, reaching for more tissues from the box held by his tail, and then hesitated, looking back at her.
"Ja, liebshed?" he asked, congestion thickening his voice. She gave a nervous smile.
"You okay?"
"Ja, ist just... I just...heh..." He shut his eyes tightly, mouth opening in a grimace. His tail abruptly dropped the tissue box into both hands, the spade of it flattening beneath his nose, but to no avail--he shuddered forward, sneezing against his tailspade with a helpless, "HehIPPSSH!"
Jean glided to his side with a few deep steps, stealing a few of the tissues and then grabbing his tail as he let it droop.
"Bless you," she said firmly, and buffed at the spade as it lashed about, trying to evade her efforts. "This is no 'sniffle', Kurt, this is a full blown-will you keep this thing still!"
"It has a mind of its own," he smiled, sniffing again, turning the rest of him away from her and blowing a sixth and seventh time consecutively while Jean tried to stroke clean his tailspade. Finally deciding that it was immaculate, the appendage whipped from her grasp, and when Kurt turned back around he found her glaring at it with narrowed eyes.
"See if I help you out the next time Shadowcat’s kitten is stalking you, you little...uh..." She looked up, and saw Kurt staring at her, arms folded, brow arched, and a small smile upon his indigo lips. She cleared her throat. "...Okay. I’m... going to stop arguing with your tail, now."
"Are you sure? I could leave you two alone, if-"
"That’s OK, we were, um... just finishing up. Anyway... feel better now, Elf?"
His nose wrinkled with another quick sniff, tail busy behind him as he tucked its spade beneath one of the tissues that had missed the can, and flipped it in for a blind two-point shot. "Ja," he agreed, wrinkling his nose yet again and rubbing beneath its tip with one knuckle. "Though I think I’ll take the tissues wiss me, to bed..."
"Still?", she asked, more than a little surprised, and the insides of his ears grew a slightly darker shade as he blushed beneath his fur. He sniffled.
"...My nose," he complained with a slight, sheepish grin, meaning this to be explanation enough.
"Well, you can take them to bed, but you’re not going just yet..." Jean took his elbow, beginning to lead him towards the bathroom. "I’m not done treating you yet, remember?"
Within the echoing walls of the bathroom he allowed her to plant her hands at his shoulders and seat him on the edge of the tub, yellow eyes great, their glow slightly diminished by the ambient brightness of the room. His sniffles suddenly seemed very loud.
"Und vas ist I should be doing to prepare for this ‘treatment’, hmm?"
"Time to get naked, fuzzy."
"Uhr-shouldn’t we check wiss Scott before we-ach!" He stiffened in place as she grabbed the fabric of his turtleneck in both hands, beginning to pull it over his head. He elevated his arms to make this easier, face vanishing from sight as it was yanked free, his hair a mess of loose curls once she finally got the shirt off altogether. Jean made a grinning, playful start towards his belt, but he grabbed her wrists with a fanged laugh, tail whip-lashing the air behind him. "Okay, I get the idea! I can do the rest myself, I sink. You vould like to leave me in privacy, perhaps?"
"All right," she agreed, stealing another kiss to his cheek-there was not a female X-Man in the place who could resist doing so-before leaning over the tub. She twisted both spigots, starting the water running and dousing into it splash of clear bubble bath from Shadowcat’s Hello Kitty container. Kurt arched a brow at that, but as Jean turned towards the door she reassured, "Trust me-it’s good stuff. You’ve got five minutes, fuzzy, and then I’m coming back, so you’d better be covered in suds."
"Und ready for what?" he chuckled, rising after her to shut the door.
"I don’t know," she grinned, and gave him a parting wink. "Anything?"
Goofy-looking container or not, the bubble bath proved to be quite satisfying, and Kurt quickly immersed himself amidst all those foamy white suds, facing the spigot as he sunk down into the hot water. He had not realized just how deeply the cold had embedded itself in his bones until the bath had begun to work its magic, and he found himself as limber as a blue scarecrow in the rising heat.
The steam was having an unpleasant effect upon his congestion, unfortunately, for while it loosened up the stuffiness in his head, it also made his runny nose that much worse, and his bath-wet hands kept soaking the tissues before they could be of any great use to him. Eventually he was forced to contain it with a series of deep, lengthy sniffles, which had the added annoyance of filling his nose with the bubble bath’s soft perfume. By the time Jean eventually returned into the steam of the bathroom with a tray of hot chocolate and-bless her heart-another box of tissues, Kurt again had that look of fleeting, sneezy discomfort.
She shut the door to close out the chill of the hallway, kneeling down alongside the tub and glancing discretely over the field of suds to make sure he was adequately covered. Kurt, though a rogue, was also a gentleman, and was hidden by white suds from the chest down.
"Feeling better?" she chuckled, holding up a white mug of hot chocolate and allowing his wet tail to emerge, flick water at her playfully, and then take it in a coil.
"Ja, a little," he agreed, sniffling again and sitting up slightly, so he did not appear to be falling asleep in the water. The perfume of the bath was really beginning to irritate him, but he forewent this admission for the moment, transferring the hot chocolate to his hands and taking a careful sip. "Ist gutt-danke, Jean. I feel very...treated."
"We didn’t have any cold medicine," she admitted, sorting through the contents of the tray. "But I can have one of the kids go run for some-"
"Nein, nein-why bother? I vill be fine again in the morning, und can survive until then." Again he sniffled, and again the perfume nagged at his sinuses, making him snarl slightly as the irritation flared in his nose. His company’s eyes were attentive, missing nothing.
"You’re sniffling again..."
"My nose is running," he admitted, a wet hand emerging from the bathwater to pinch at his wrinkled nose.
"I brought more tissues-"
"Ja, but my hands are wet... but I can deal wiss it, honestly." He sniffled again, and set the hot chocolate down outside the tub. Jean looked less than pleased, reaching for a hand towel slung over the back of a nearby rack.
"Give me your hands..."
Obediently Kurt offered both hands to her, the fur of them heavily dripping, and let Jean buff at them. Getting them dry was a chore, considering how much water his fur tended to absorb, and as Jean worked he began to knit his brows into a worried expression, sniffling more and more carefully. Her eyes flashed up at his expression, and the utterly lost look on his face caught her off guard, giving her worried pause. The man actually looked as if he’d lost his best friend.
"Kurt-what’s wrong?"
"Jean," he said very carefully, the composure of his voice contrasting with what seemed like an achingly sad expression. As he spoke, he measured the words in between increasingly shaky breaths. "Vas kind... of perfume is in... in..." he tried to indicate the water with a motion of his head.
"The bath? I... I don’t know," she puzzled, drying his hands a little more slowly. "Why?"
Without the use of his hands, Nightcrawler turned his body away from her as best he could, his eyes losing almost all their glow as a too-familiar sensation seized his sinuses. He thought once the spring ended he wouldn’t have to deal with this anymore, but apparently-
"Ktsh!" he sneezed to one side, one of his hard little allergic sneezes, so useless in satisfying the irritation of his nose unless they came in great numbers. Which, either fortunately or unfortunately, they invariably did. He opened his eyes, smiling back at her muzzily for a half second before turning away again and firing off a bout of small, rapid sneezes, "Ktsh! ktsh! ktsh! uh’ktsh!"
Jean knew what Kurt’s allergies sounded like-elfsneezes, Kitty jokingly called them--and bit on her lip as she let him catch his breath in between fits. His nose never stopped twitching at the nostrils, though his eyes opened, cautious.
"Ach... I sink I may be allergic to vas ist in it..." He turned his face away swiftly and his head rocked forward violently, sneezing, "Ktsh!"
"We’d better get you out, then-"
"Uh’ktsh! Ach... " His head came up again, expression quickly changing, and this time as he turned away it was with a different sneeze altogether, the wet force of it causing a small flurry of bubbles to fly away from the sudsy surface of the water. "Heh-Isshh!"
"Okay," Jean sighed, hiding her face in her hands, "That was your cold."
"I did not realize there vas a noticeable difference," he mused, sinking deeper into the water, rubbing one finger under his nose, wet fur against wet fur. His body wrenched in place with another sneeze, causing a soft, splashy sound as he disturbed the water.
"Ktsh!" A sigh, and then, rapidly, "ktsh! uh’ktsh! ktsh!" He could barely breathe in between.
"Bless you... I’ve made things worse, haven’t I?"
"Neid, libelig," he said, congested. "You could not have known. Besides which, you vere correct-the bath is sehr gutt. I’m enjoying my..." His speech distorted, heavily wavering, and Jean peeked through the valley between two small mountains of suds, watching Kurt preparing to sneeze. One wet hand emerged from the water, dripping, and pressed against his upper lip, but it was not enough. Rather then wrenching in half--as in the sitting room--he tensed his entire body and let it wrack through him like a great shiver, comically collapsing his features as he sneezed against a forefinger.
"Hehh-iiifffsssh!" His eyes slit open to the thinnest, glowing crescents, and again he shuddered in place, features scrunching hard as he sneezed against his finger, "Heh-iiiffffsssh!" Nightcrawler’s eyes reopened at last, his hand lowering back into the water, and he sniffled as he spied Jean gazing at him from the edge of tub. "Sdiffles," he smiled crookedly, and she rolled her eyes.
"Cold. And God bless you."
He sneezed again, completely unexpectedly, sitting up from the water with a vicious, "Heh-IISSH!" The man blinked and sighed swiftly, "Ach du lieber!"
"Bless you again." Beginning to sit back from the tub’s edge, Jean slowly rose, keeping her eyes purposely diverted from the tub; the tumult of his sneezing was causing much of his cover of suds to disperse and dissolve, leaving the still-filmy outline of his bare blue length just beneath. Not that she wasn’t interested in seeing just how all those endless hours of training had sculpted him, but she was already distracted enough as it was. "I’ll let you enjoy the bath in peace..." She paused at the doorway, leaning in the threshold and looking back at him as one hand paused on the knob. "...If you need anything, Kurt, just think about it, and I’ll get it for you, okay?"
Sliding back beneath the water, until he was visible only from the nose up, Kurt gave his fellow X-Man a silent wink. Jean began to close the door again, shaking her head.
"...Because I owe you one," she mused. "I won’t tell Scott what you were just thinking about me." A final half-grin and a wink to the German mutant, and Jean excused herself from the perfumic steam of the bathroom, back into the cool dimness of the hall.
It was difficult for Nightcrawler to rouse himself from the tub, occasionally using one prehensile foot to add a little hot water, but eventually the warm sensation of being half-afloat became a little too lulling for him to remain. Add to that the fact that he kept waking himself up every fifteen minutes with flinchy little bouts of, "Ktsh! ktsh!", and he decided reluctantly that it was time to get out.
His robe was stored, along with those of the other teachers, behind the linen closet door, and after shaking, wringing, and buffing as much water from his fur as he possibly could, Kurt clothed and belted himself in the thick terrycloth garment. His hair, though reasonably dry, remained in loose, glossy curls against his scalp, and he passed a hand back over them as he regarded himself in the steamy mercury of the bathroom mirror.
It was nearly impossible to tell if he was sick... that was a bonus. There were no red eyes (for his were forever a luminous gold), no pink nose (the blue fur hid it well), and but for his irrepressible sneezes...
His mind began to wander as he felt one creeping up on him at that very moment, gazing at his reflection and wondering why it was Kitty always turned to look at him when he sneezed. No matter time or place, whenever the elf gave the slightest indication that one was randomly coming upon him, Shadowcat’s eyes went to him attentively, a crooked smile on her lips. Not that Kurt could see anything particularly interesting in his own expression, fighting to hold his eyes open, managing to keep them as luminous slivers as his nose twitched its irritation, and his indigo lips parted before the peeking white of his canines. This is what she found so amusing? This was... was...
"Heh-IISSSHH!" Kurt’s shoulders locked as it fought past his restraint, his features crumpling, head held remarkably still as his body shook in place. Groggily reopening his eyes, he was ashamed to find his reflection distorted by the aerosol evidence of his sneeze on the glass. A towel was wet beneath the sink faucet and wiped across the mirror’s surface, cleanly relieving it of all evidence.
"Kurt?" Jean’s voice called from outside, her knuckles quietly rapping on the door. "Are you decent?"
"I’m a gentleman," he responded, dropping the towel into the laundry basket and grinning as she shyly peeked around the open door. "Of course I’m decent."
"I meant-"
"I know," he chuckled, tightened the belt of his robe, and then turned to face her, arms folded. His tail, needing something to do, curled up and sawed beneath his nose as he wrinkled and sniffed. "Vas ist I can do for you?"
"I lit the fire in your room, for you," she announced, coming forward and gathering the terry collar about his throat, fussing with it as he chuckled enduringly. "And I put out your copy of Captain Blood..."
"Liebchen," Nightcrawler chuckled, bringing his hand up to cup her jaw. "You don’t need to spoil me."
Jean smiled with sibling fondness, laying her hand overtop his own, enjoying the feeling of his warm, short fur. He must be fun to cuddle with, she mused.
"I’m not spoiling you," she corrected. "I’m just paying you back." Jean paused as she saw his eyes dim and felt his breathing deepen, sliding her hands from his collar to his robed chest. "Where are your tissues," she prompted sternly. Independent of his steadily weakening restraint, his tail snatched in and out of view, returning a half-second later to transfer the tissue box into Jean’s hands. He turned his head away from her, although there was barely any need at all-the fitful little sneezes that overcame him did nothing more than sharply twitch his head and shoulders, and issue an almost trademark, "Ktsh!" into the air. Jean felt a curious thrill to stand with her hands upon him as he strained to keep his face averted from her, his eyes, nose and mouth grimace-flinching as he sneezed repeatedly.
"Ktsh! ktsh! ktsh!" A wavering pause, then, "Ktsh! I’ktsh!"
Even for his allergies they were beginning to sound a little on the strenuous side, until he stopped even trying to open his eyes or relax his expression in between. When at last a slightly longer breath came, Kurt opened first one glowing eye, then the other, breathing very carefully through his mouth. "Ach!," he muttered, then brushed beneath his nose with a forefinger, dismayed to find the fur there wet to the touch. Hurriedly covering his nose with one hand, he tried to turn away from her. "Liebling, forgiff me-"
"Kurt, wait-you don’t have to--," she sighed as he retreated to the bathroom wall, grabbing his tail and forcing it to curl around a handful of fresh tissues. "Fine-take these, at least... you know, you really don’t have to be so polite all the time..." The tail took possession of them with surprising deftness, whipping around in front of him, and he bowed his head and shoulders forward as he quietly blew his nose. Wiping vigorously at his upper lip afterwards, he sniffed again and turned back towards her with a small smile.
"I am a gentleman all of the time, and so why not?"
"Except when you’re a rogue."
He winked one gold eye at her. "That is the allowable exception." Sniff. With a sigh Kurt held the gathered tissues against the underside of his nose. "...Head colds and allergies do not mix well." He realized the error of his comment a half-second too late; Jean poked a forefinger at his chest, triumphant.
"Ah-haha! A cold!"
Lashing his tail like a whip preparing to be cracked, he sniffed again, using the tissue and the downward tilt of his chin to hide his smile, as well as his nose.
"Ja, a cold. You are satisfied, now?"
"No," she said weakly, smiling. "Just miserably guilty."
Kurt laughed, his silky voice suddenly near to her ear as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into an embrace. Most of the X-Men feared hugging Jean when Scott was around, but Nightcrawler was fearless of intimacy with his teammates, and let her cuddle against him as he rested his cheek to her temple.
"Liebling, vas ist I tell you all the time-you should not worry so much. What is a little cold? So tomorrow I will sleep in, und all will be well."
"But tonight," she began to lament, and he drew back from her, holding her shoulders.
"Ja, tonight I get to curl up by the fire und relax. Jean-how could you have betrayed me?’
Laughter won out on her at last, and he gave her another, smiling hug before they escorted one another to the bathroom door, and out into the hall. Jean let her hand trail away from him as she started towards her own room, a lingering glance falling over her right shoulder.
"Are you sure I can’t get you anything, before bed?"
"You have done more than enough," he grinned, and laid a hand around the banister, fingers curling. "I will get myself some’sing to eat, und then enjoy Captain Blood for the thousandth or so time." His tail came around in front of him, and he kissed the spade before tipping it down again, ‘blowing’ it towards her with a wink. "Gutten nacht, libeling. Good night."
When Kurt had come of age in Germany, he and the other boys of his camp-his adoptive brother Stefan among them-had been led through the woods to the river wild. There, in the middle of a very unpleasant October, they were forced to swim to the opposite bank, and find their way home... the long way. Those who did not already know how to swim were in for a crash course, as Stefan and Kurt soon found out.
He was a fairly skilled swimmer, even then, but the current had been impossibly strong, and both boys had been tossed and rolled across the sandy river bottom before they ever made it to the opposite bank, sodden and coughing, ruing the trials of manhood.
He had been soaking and freezing, but worse than that, as they had begun to trudge themselves through the woods, Kurt had been able to feel the river water in his lungs and his head, leaking out of his nose for hours afterwards. The better part of their journey home had been spent wiping miserably at his nose, grimacing and sneezing and then doing it all over again as they bowed their heads into the shadows and wind. Like his brother he had returned home a man, but he had also returned with the worst cold of his life, and had been confined to the fireside and his bed for nearly two full weeks after, coddled by Margali and taunted by Jemaine. Ugh, what a time it had been...
Kurt thought back upon this as he ambled into the cool dimness of the kitchen, the humming of the refrigerators the only detectable sign of life. Though not so wet and cold as that night, he had the same watery sensation in his head and nose, sniffly and leaky and wanting to let himself sneeze it all out with satisfying aggression. Again and again, if necessary... if only to be able to inhale through his nose and not feel it fluttering inside ticklishly.
Not that he would allow himself such a release, of course, but it was a thought that made him smile in drunken desire as he pulled open the refrigerator and let the pale glow of it fall over him.
"Tea," he said to himself, sniffled liquidly, and blinked at the contents of the shelves. "Und soup. Mmm." One hand reached inward, removing a Tupperware container, and with the close of the door he shunted himself back into nearly total darkness. A benefit of having perfect night vision was being able to navigate the kitchen without having to adjust to the annoying overhead light, allowing Kurt to remain in darkness as he leapt onto the counter, and then scaled the wall to the ceiling, hanging upside down as he put the soup into the microwave and patiently waited for it to heat.
His eyes closed into complete darkness as he waited, tail wrapping around his legs to keep his robe in place, and his modesty intact. Over the dual hum of refrigerators and microwave, he did not immediately hear the whisper of stocking feet upon the linoleum, or the discordance of youthful female voices approaching from the foyer.
"Cissy, not so fast," one of the children complained, and there could be heard a soft giggling, followed by a double chorus of hissing, shhhh’s. Nightcrawler opened one glowing eye, the rest of him invisible in the darkness, quickly closing it again as the silhouettes of two young students bumbled their way into the kitchen.
"You’re going to wake somebody up!"
"Everybody’s asleep, would you quit worrying?"
"We’ll get in trouble..."
The two girls fumbled from doorway to refrigerator, and Nightcrawler cracked his eyes open revealingly, just enough to see their bowed backs as they rooted through the shelves in search. What on earth were they up to?
"I don’t see it," the younger of the two girls whispered, and Kurt identified her as Nora, an especially young student who Xavier had arranged to take under his wing. She was a budding little telepath, and close companions with her current cohort, Cissy Chamberlain, a girl with the unnerving mutant ability to control and communicate with all manner of insects. There was a difference of perhaps five years in the girls’ ages, but neither seemed to mind, and tonight it appeared they were rummaging for something in the fridge. "We should go back!"
"No way," Cissy whispered, turning again to her friend. "If I have to eat fried calamari one more time I’m gonna hurl... we’re gonna find out where they’re hiding it and get rid of it once and for all."
"But Cissy," Nora fretted.
"Tentacles, Nora!"
This seemed to decide the younger girl, and she sighed, scuffing her bare foot against the floor.
"Fiinnnee."
"Some’sing I can help you with, frauleins?", Kurt asked suddenly, his silky voice gentle as he opened his eyes in full. The two girls turned in alarm, and upon seeing nothing but two great, glowing eyes in the darkness, began screaming in harmony. Kurt nearly fell from the ceiling in alarm, holding out his hands towards them in a shushing gesture... but never actually managed to make a sound. Instead, Nora and Cissy began clutching at each other as the demonic eyes were joined by the menacing snarl of sharp white teeth.
Nora hissed in fear, clutching at her friend, "Is it gonna bite?"
"I don’t know," Cissy fearfully regarded the narrowing yellow eyes, backing up against the refrigerator light. "I think it’s-"
"AhehIISSSHHH!"
The girls stopped, blinking, and then squinted as their eyes adjusted to the darkness, making out the gloomy, inverted figure of Nightcrawler: crouched on the ceiling and rubbing vigorously at his nose. He sighed, sniffled, and fixed them again with his cabochon eyes. "Excuse me, children."
"Mr. Wagner?", Cissy blurted, starting towards him from the refrigerator, allowing more of its pale light to illuminate the shadowed mutant. He rubbed his nose again as he chuckled, then folded his arms against his chest.
"Ja, Cissy?"
"Oh my God! We thought you were a..." She hesitated, not wanting to insult the teacher, and faltered, "...a..."
"A monster!" Nora said loudly, having no sense of couth whatsoever. When the other girl glared back at her, she scowled, "What? We did!"
"Appearances are deceiving, children," Kurt soothed, the unintended slight bouncing off of him harmlessly. "Consider it a lesson learned." Again he sniffled and itchily wrinkled his nose, rubbing at it childishly with the side of his wrist. The girls, still rather rapt with his upside-down silhouette, continued to stare at his rubbing and his tightly wrinkled expression, as if barely believing this was their teacher.
Cissy was the first to boldly ask, "You feelin’ okay, Mr. Wagner?"
"A little under the veather," he tried to smile, forcing himself to cease the abuse of his nose, opening the door wide for another sneeze. It started to gain on him quickly, and he made a gentle gesture to the children, ushering them back towards the refrigerator as his nose and upper lip began to twitch in irritation, hoping the slightly snarling look it gave him wouldn’t frighten them. "Liebchens..." he covered his nose and mouth with his opposite hand, eyes beginning to appear sad with the strain of self-control. "Not so close for a moment..."
"Sir?"
Nora leaned close against her friend, announcing knowledgeably, "He’s gonna sneeze again."
Kurt’s eyes began to tear as he accidentally grinned, just his sinuses refused to stand the irritation even a moment longer. It was all he could do to keep himself stuck to the ceiling as he sneezed into both hands, a wrenching, "Heh-ISSSH!" He felt his nose begin to run, and a half-second later grimaced, horrified, as the worst happened.
"Ih-KSSSSCH!" ....he sneezed again.
Kurt groaned softly, both hands gathered around his nose and mouth, his eyes reopening as if from a deep sleep. Even the girls were looking at him with nervous sympathy as slowly-very slowly-he uncurled himself and exhaled loudly, almost a groan.
"...esscuse me, liebchens..." he muffled, miserable, behind his hands. Everything even remotely prehensile was now occupied... how he was going to get down from here without compromising himself in some way was going to be tricky. He tried sniffling, and to his great dismay it only made him sneeze again, an unexpectedly liquid, "KSSCH!" that caused the girls to bite their bottom lips and furrow their brow in worry. Again he groaned, this time more clearly.
"Leibsheds," he said again, voice thick with congestion. "...If you could...excuse me a moment..."
Cissy took the hint before the younger girl, turning her back to the teacher... then scowling, grabbing the ogling Nora by the shoulders, and turning her around as well.
Kurt needed something free. He uncurled his tail from around his legs, letting the robe hang revealingly open for a moment. A neat flip from the ceiling landed him in a perfect, springy crouch upon the linoleum, and his tail rebelted the robe, returning him to proper modesty. It then stole for the tissue box, and to the girls’ ears there was several seconds of strenuous blowing, followed by a damp, tissue-muffled, "Heh-EISH’uu!"
"Bless you, Mr. Wagner," the girls chimed in unintended harmony, and Kurt lashed his tail in amusement as he dropped down into a cat-like crouch, more at eye-level with the younger of the two children.
"Sank you, children," he smiled crookedly, unconsciously revealing his fangs. "You can turn around again, it’s all right."
They did so, Cissy remaining by the wall, though Nora ran forward on her little legs to stand boldly in front of him and plaster her small hands flat against his cheeks. He might have been a monster in the dark, but he was still the one who had saved her from the tree when she’d climbed too high, and who teleported her piggy-back to bed when she was up too late, singing her a somewhat off-key lull-a-bye in German. (So long as she promised not to tell-that was the rule.) She had fallen asleep with her small hand wrapped tightly around the end of his tail a few times, and she had no fear of him at all.
"You should go to bed," Nora told him wisely, her little Cleopatra bob brushing against her round cheeks as she nodded. "Yes you should."
"In a moment, liebling," he chuckled, and watched her remove a few tissues from the box he still held with his tail. "Tell me-vas ist you two were doing in here, so late?" He knew better than to ask Cissy; Nora was one of those wonderfully honest children, willing and eager to tell you when she’d been misbehaving, or to shamelessly share with you any embarrassing family secrets that were meant to be kept under wraps. He sat very still as she starfished one pale hand at his cheek, and with the other began to gently clean at his nose and upper lip with the tissues: something she had seen mothers do to their children, and something she just had to mimic, given the opportunity.
"We were gonna throw out the squids!", Nora told him very seriously, and Cissy covered her eyes with one hand, quietly groaning.
"Nora-"
"What?", she squeaked indignantly, putting her small fists at her hips and looking back at the other girl with such earnestness that Kurt had to bite his tongue not to laugh. "We were-they’re gross!"
"I think, liebchen," he interrupted. "That you were not supposed to give that secret away."
"But you asked," she protested, looking back at him. His thick fingers removed the little wadded tissue from her delicate hand, and he turned his head, holding it to his nostrils as he softly snorted into it a single time, then threw it away.
"I know, und you are a gutt girl to tell the truth. For being so honest, I vill not share wiss the others what fate you had in store for the calamari."
Cissy came forward from her pouting posture by the wall, face all alight.
"You mean it? We can get rid of it?"
"Ja," he laughed softly. "But just this vonce."
"Thank you, Mr. Wagner," they said, once again in harmony, so that he had to wonder if their synchronicity was not on purpose. Cissy darted back to the refrigerator, beginning to dig for the hated squid, and Nora remained in front of him, with her hands still on his cheeks. Kurt smiled very faintly, eyes calm and comfortable as he gazed at her, and let her stare right back at him.
"Ja, liebling?" he asked her eventually, feeling the little tickle at the back of his mind, knowing that she was trying to explore there. She was not strong enough in her powers to change men’s minds, or read specific thoughts, but he knew for a fact that she could glean ideas and pictures, and sometimes her insights startled him. She was intuitive for one so young. "Vas ist?"
"You should be in bed," she said again, as if he might have forgotten. "You’re sick."
"Yes, child, I am." he sniffled, so that she might feel more confident in her diagnosis, and she almost toppled his balance with a sudden hug around his neck, squeezing him tightly.
"I don’t want you to be sick."
"Ach, neisser do I," he chuckled softly, rubbing at her back. "But these things happen, hmm? How about you take care of me, so I vill be well again soon, und I can teach you to build an igloo. Vould you like that?"
"A real igloo?" she asked dubiously against his shoulder, as if thinking he might be trying to patronize her.
"Ja! Und we will be like real Eskimos, too."
Slowly she relaxed from her hug, standing in front of him again and fingering the fur of his forehead, though almost solemnly. He did not need to be telepathic to feel her worry, and took her round face gently in his hands, kissing between her eyes. "Ist late, Nora. Why don’t I take you to bed, und you can care for me there."
"You are going to be alright?" she asked, meeting his eyes, her lower lip pouted like a pink rosebud. Nightcrawler stood suddenly, gathering the child onto his hip as he rose to his full height.
"I will be, libeling, und you will make sure." Turning towards the refrigerator, where Cissy’s rear poked out as she sorted through its contents, he announced. "Cissy, I am taking Nora to bed. As soon as you’ve done vas ist you need to, I trust you’ll be headed in the same direction?" His voice was firm but not commanding, trusting that the girl would not be off on any other unplanned adventures.
"I promise, Mr. Wagner. Thanks again." She glanced back. "And, umm... I hope you feel better."
Kurt smiled at her before turning through the breakfast room and on towards the foyer, still with little Nora on his hip.
"Ja, me too. Guten abend."
The foyer was dimly lit, never completely dark for the great semi-circular windows above the mansion’s front doors, but still his eyes glowed with lantern brilliance as he climbed the deep, curving stairway to the second floor. Nora was content on his hip, her small chin shelved on his shoulder, watching the stairs drop away beneath him as she was carried up.
"You’re not well ‘nuff to ‘port, Mr. Wagner?"
"Nein, liebchen, not tonight. But as soon as I am better...," he sniffled deeply, and began to slow, finally hesitating about halfway up the steps. More slowly he finished, "...I will... take you for a ride..."
He closed his eyes and let his head tilt back slightly, mouth open, exhaling a sigh as if he were suddenly exhausted and could not take another step. Nora could not contain her curiosity, sitting up a little more and leaning her head, watching him crinkle and relax his nose very slightly as he stood there, trying either to bring something on or make it go away.
"Mr. Wagner?"
He did not verbally reply, but brought his other hand up and cupped it protectively a few inches in front of her face, almost as if shading her eyes from the sun. It was for this reason that she could not quite see him turn his face towards the banister, and sneeze viciously, openly, into the air.
"Heh-ISSHH!" his head snapped forward and his fangs clenched with a powerful but much-needed release, the pale aerosol almost glittering before it vanished from sight in the dimness. He sniffled, lowering the protective hand from in front of Nora, and found her frowning at him concernedly. "I’m sorry, liebchen."
"You should be in bed," she repeated, and he had to fight another smile.
"Don’t you vant me to tuck you in first?"
Slowly, feeling that she was being tricked, the child agreed, "Well... yeah..."
"Good. Then up we go." He boosted her slight weight higher on his hip, continuing to sniffle and occasionally wipe at his nose with the back of one wrist as they mounted to the landing, and then continued down the corridor towards the girls’ rooms.
Nora had been permitted a little room to herself, since she was the youngest of the students, and it had none of the hard angles and colors that so predominated in the shared teenage dorms. There had been a rush to get her out of her parents’ home, the night that she had arrived, and few of the little girl’s personal belongings had been taken. Since that night, some three months before, teachers and students alike had been donating things to make her feel more at home: stuffed animals, toys, decorations for her wall. It was a cheerful room, even in the near-darkness, but as he felt her curl fearfully against him, Kurt flicked the wallswitch, turning on the little lamp at her bedside.
"This is better?", he asked. Nora looked around, then nodded.
"Ja," she replied, and this time he could not keep from laughing outright, carrying her to the bed and the seating her on its edge. She was already nightgown clad, and sat very patiently as he pulled back the covers, nudging her legs beneath.
"Come... now you must sleep. It’s very late."
"Can I have a story first?"
"Nein... no stories...." He averted his eyes towards the foot of the bed, the muscles of his face twitching into a split-second grimace as he opened his mouth. Gently erecting one hand, again shielding Nora’s face, he turned from her as far as he could, and let himself split the bedroom quiet with a forceful, "Heh-IISSHH’aah..." The end of it trailed off into a weary sigh, and he lowered his guarding hand again, so that he could see her face. "Excuse me."
"Bless you," the child said firmly, and after a heavy sniffle he smiled down at her with warm, glowing eyes.
"Thank you, liebchen. You are very kind."
"Mr. Wagner?"
"Hmm?" He busied himself pulling the covers up to her chest, doubling them over so that the white of the sheets was revealed.
"Why do you put your hand up when you sneeze?"
"Like this?" He brought his hand up again, holding it a few shielding inches in front of her face before lowering it again. Nora nodded.
"Like that."
"To protect you, liebchen."
"But you turn your head."
"Consider it an added precaution."
"Against what?"
"Ach, well... my sneeze," he admitted, feeling an embarrassed warmth under his fur.
"Is it dangerous?" Nora asked plainly, and he laughed again, flashing a fanged grin.
"Not precisely, but I want to keep you safe from it, anyway."
"I’m not afraid."
"Ja, I know-you are not afraid of anything," he softly smiled, expression amazingly gentle for all that his mutant genes had done to him.
"Well. Maybe monsters."
"Oh, yes, monsters-of course."
"What does it feel like?", was her next question, as she picked up one of his hands and held it between both her own, touching the downy blue fur. The question caught him off guard, perking his dark brows and widening the gold ovals of his eyes.
"Vas, liebchen?"
"When you sneeze, is it cold?"
"Oh, I see... uhr... nein, ist warm, actually."
"Warm?"
"Mm-hmm."
"Can I feel?", she inquired innocently, boldly reaching out to touch her fingertips to the end of his nose, amazed at just how soft every inch of him truly was. The touch made him wrinkle his nose beneath her small palm, and she felt the furry crinkles the gesture made on either side.
"Feel? My nose? I’m afraid it is just a nose, if a little fuzzy. Und perhaps a little stuffed, at the moment."
"No, when you sneeze."
He took her wrist gently, holding it down with a slight, uncertain trench of his brow.
"Ach, I don’t know if it’s such a good idea..."
"I can’t get sick," the child said immediately, and the ease with which she’d picked up on his thoughts gave Kurt a definite moment of pause. He considered her round, serious face, knowing all too well her fierce, ferreting curiosity, as well as the truth of her words: Telepathy was not her only gift. Like many mutants (himself excluded, unfortunately), she had a tireless immune system. The girl could break bones and skin knees like any other rambunctious child, but according to Beast she would probably never know the annoyance of being sick. Still... propriety was a hard thing to get over, especially when it was so ingrained. He hesitated.
"...Well..."
"Please?" she asked, stretching the word with a note of appeal, her fingers feeling along his cheek, watching in wonder the way the shadows seemed to move mercurially, like liquid, over his indigo fur. A sigh escaped him at last.
"Very well... but immediately after, you are going to wash your hands und go to sleep. No stories, no songs-ve are understood?" The girl nodded her head vigorously, and Kurt settled his weight into a more comfortable crouch alongside her bed, turning to face her so that she could continue investigating his furred features-his tall cheekbones, the tiny dimple in his chin, the short, silky black curls of his hair. He sniffled liquidly as she entertained herself this way, and Nora delicately fingered the underside of his nose, flattening her palm curiously underneath. He wrinkled his nose and sniffled again, loudly, so that she could feel the quick suction of air from his nostrils. The breath he exhaled carried with it a somewhat shaky sigh.
"Are you going to sneeze soon?", she asked, though not impatiently.
His voice was stuffy as he replied, "I think I might, liebchen, but I can’t be sure..."
Her fingers stroked softly along the bridge of his nose, down to the tip, returning to the underside to feel the quick pull of air every time she saw him wrinkle up in preparation for a sniffle.
Observantly, she remarked, "You sniffle a lot."
"Ja, I must, my nose is running..." Yet another sniffle, tickling against her palm. He swallowed, the glow of his eyes flickering and dimming before saying, "All right... I sink one is coming, now..."
Nora was earnest in her interest, touching the outside of his nostrils with the small tips of her fingers, feeling what would have been the otherwise imperceptible flinch of them as irritation flickered and spidered into his nasal passages. His chest rose and fell irregularly, eyelids seeming to weigh a little more as he slowly narrowed and closed his eyes. Nightcrawler was so used to purposely distancing himself from anyone and everyone when he had to sneeze, it was an act of sheer will to keep himself still for the sake of the girl’s curiosity.
His mouth parted open very slightly, upper lip twitching away from his canines for a quick second. Nora looked at the whole of his expression, serene but obviously desirous of the coming sneeze, and saw his brow suddenly furrow stormily over his closed eyes, mouth beginning to openly grimace as it came on quickly.
"It comes-", he warned swiftly, and Nora cupped her small hand loosely, lightly beneath his nose, where she’d felt his sniffling inhales. Nightcrawler drew a tremendous breath, wrinkling his nose, and suddenly shuddered all over, features collapsing with an uncharacteristically loud, "Heh-IISSSHHH’eh!"
The sneeze burst wetly from his nose, a warm, split-second aerosol against the girl’s small palm. As he relaxed with a soft groan, Nora fingered the suddenly damp blue velvet of his upper lip and the tip of his nose, observing the unrelieved twitch of it in irritation-he was about to sneeze again. She cupped her hand lightly over his nose, and felt the strong suction of his sudden inhale against her palm. His face crumpled in a terrible grimace.
"Heh-IISSSSSHHH!", his body was wracked by it, a shiver coursing through him, and afterwards he slouched a little, letting the girl keep her hand politely over his nose as he cracked open the slivered glow of his eyes. "...Ach..." It was a weak sound. "...that vas two, liebschid... you may get wud more..."
Nora’s other hand began ‘petting’ the top of his head, sliding back over his dark, silky curls, almost solemnly watching him recover himself and sniffle several times in a row. The girl felt a twitching under her palm, and then a tenseness as he wrinkled up his nose, and shut his eyes in an frightened-looking grimace. Another sharp inhale tickled with suction at her palm.
"Heh’TIISSSHH’eh!" he sneezed, trying to hold his head and body still, shaking in place with a massive shudder. Nora removed her hand at last, wiggling her small fingers and watching her teacher recover himself with a groggy groan, stealing a few of the pink tissues from a box on the girl’s little nightstand. He blew noisily, his tail reaching out to curl around Nora’s wrist, holding it in place between them. Still wiping fiercely at his wrinkled nose with the tissues, Nightcrawler inquired, "Is your curiosity satisfied, now?"
"Ja," she agreed, evoking a quiet chuckle from him. He sniffled, delicate, and suddenly picked her up, carrying her into the half-bath that adjoined her room. Holding her in front of the sink-for she was still a hair too small to reach it on her own-he patiently let her run the water and wash at her hands, focusing upon the task with a concentration that only very young children are capable of.
"Und vas ist you thought of it?"
"Wet!", she announced. He felt himself blushing underneath the fur.
"Ja, I’m sorry about that, liebchen..."
"And warm," she added, completely nonplussed by his apology. She rinsed the suds from her hands, and looked up to see his tail offering a towel. Taking it with a giggle, she dried her hands and allowed him-with only a little protest-to carry her back to bed. She added as a belated afterthought, "It tickled when you sniffled."
"It tickled me too, unfortunately."
"Is that why you sneeze?"
"Mm-hmm..." He watched, with arms folded, as she climbed back into bed, and then bent down to cover her over, brushing back her bangs to place a kiss on her forehead. "Now. Pleasant dreams, liebchen."
"No story?", she pressed, and Kurt gave a crooked smile as he caressed her cheek with the spade of his tail, and stood.
"No story. Now goodnight."
"Gut...guten... ummmm."
"Abend, liebschen."
"Ja. Guten Abend."
He gave her a smiling wink as he retreated to the doorway, turning off her bedside lamp from the wallswitch and then narrowing his eyes, watching the child lay awake in the darkness. He stood like that for a good ten minutes, until he saw for certain that she was asleep, and then slipped silently into the dark hallway. Ten minutes was evidently his limit, for the moment he had closed the door he was forced to seize closed his nose, and trembled under three excrutiating sneezes, a stifled, "H’knxt! ...H’knxt! ...H’knxt!"
...Well...at least he’d kept them quiet.
"You’re still not in bed?", an incredulous voice whispered. Kurt looked up, still holding his nose closed, as Jean emerged from her room. He sniffled mightily and wiped at his upper lip with the side of his wrist, having nothing else immediately at his disposal.
"I vas headed there now, I swear."
"Right now, Fuzzy."
"Right now," he grinned, his fangs and his eyes luminous in the darkness. Folding an arm across his stomach, he put his heels together and bowed towards her deeply, tail whip-lashing behind him. It was down there that he caught a shivery breath, tucked a finger under his nose, and released another wet, "KSSCH!" against it. Jean was standing over him, frowning, when he reluctantly straightened up, forefinger still held in place.
"Now," she said, brooking no argument. He flashed a nervous grin and sniffled one last time.
"I am already there, Liebling," he chuckled, and stepped back from her, vanishing-at long last--into thin air: a flash of light and a charcoal cloud of bursting brimstone.
The End
Characters, situations, etc, belong to their creators.