Fanfic time: Misfits part 17

Continued from yesterday:

  Sara waited until the van’s tires screeched at the corner, indicating that Steve was on his way back to the store, before she shed so much as one scrap of her guise. 

  Gah, it was hot in that get-up. 

  And getting out of it was skin-snaggingly uncomfortable. 

  Todd barely opened his eyes when she jostled his head onto her lap. No matter. He was bound to recover. She dipped a plastic spoon into the honey and drizzled most of it off before offering it to him. 

  “Just suck on the spoon, dear,” she instructed. “It should help you feel a little better." 

  "Wh’t happ'n’d?” he croaked. 

  “You were unconscious,” said Sara. “My best guess is that your reserves were completely depleted fending off that *thug* Alvers." 

  "Whoah. Wait. *Lance*?" 

  "He *does* have a prediliction towards preying on those younger and weaker than him - no offense." 

  "Yo, he was pryin’ me off'a Pie-pie, hon,” said Todd. He pulled the spoon out of his mouth and gave it to her. “Pie’s the scuzzo." 

  Sara considered the honey. The jar was one of those little itty bitty samplers favoured by single people living alone. No doubt that Todd would consume all of it before he was well enough to move under his own steam. Sara re-used the spoon for the next dose. "How so? I know the boy’s some kind of pickpocket-slash-pervert, but–" 

  "Yeah, an’ he’s also a peepin’ tom,” growled Todd. 

  The hot hordes of embaressment flooded over her face, ears and some of her chest. One of her most secret of nightmares had come true. Someone had *seen* her early-morning ritual. Mother was going to know. 

  Mother was going to go *spare*. 

  Todd’s voice was a distant, vague hum to her ears. All she could hear was her world tumbling into ruins around her. 

  Mother would send her off to some kind of obscure convent school for sex-crazed Bad Girls who would try to convert her to bisexuality for their own entertainment. 

  Certainly not *Sara’s* entertainment. 

  Oh dear, oh dear, oh *dear*. 

+

  “Yeah, an’ he’s also a peepin’ tom,” Todd growled. “Scuzzbucket just thinks he can zip in an’ out an’ not pay any consequences, he got another think comin’, yo. He ain’t gonna treat *YOU* like no free show an’ get away wit’ it, I’m'a see to that m'self.” Honey cleaned off the spoon, he tried to give it back to Sara. 

  Sara, however, had vanished into some kind of funk. The parts of her skin that were still pinkish were -well- pinker than normal. The scales - her new, beautiful scales - were darker than her normal pale tone. 

  Poor girl. She was mortified into a statue. Todd gently helped himself. “It’s gonna be okay, I swear. I ain’t gonna let nothin’ hurt yo’ if I can help it, yanno? I’m'a have a li'l *chat* wit’ the guys, yo. An’ lemme tell ya, *nobody* wants a fresh case o’ revenge a ala Toad, yo. I gotta be *home* today. They don’t want me leavin’ ‘em little unwelcome gifts if yo’ get mah drift.” He grinned around his spoonful of honey. Sara looked even more upset and embarressed than ever before. 

  “Sara? Hon?" 

  Her eyes shed a tear. "Mother’s going to *know*." 

  "What, that some dude barged in on you inna shower?" 

  Sara’s head - twitched… something like watching a bobble-head doll in a car going over a speed-bump. "I have something of a secret vice,” she confessed, her voice a whisper. “I love the feel of the dawn’s first sunshine on my skin. *All* of my skin…" 

  A sudden vision of Sara - tall, proud and beautiful in her new scales, soaking in the first rays of a new day - paraded across Todd’s mind. _Man, if I were some Manga dude, I’d have a nosebleed…_ He deliberately stopped himself from asking any naughty questions. Or anything related to a naughty question. This was Sara’s most secret ritual, something that gave her something to wake up for. The thing that got her out of bed every morning, to begin yet another day that would, inevitably, be full of her misery. 

  Something she kept from everyone. 

  Except him. 

  And - by force - Pietro. 

  ”…and now he’s headed off to school and he’s going to *talk*,“ Sara blubbed. "Mother’s going to know before the day’s out. She’s going to *find* me - like *this*… Oh Todd… darling, I’m so sorry… It’s all going to blow up… It’s all my fault…" 

  _Oh *fuck*._ He hugged her. "Shhh… It’s gonna be okay, yo. Shhh… We’ll think of somethin’, I swear." 

  And there was Lance, sporting a huge lump on his temple. "Awright, Essel," 

  "Sara Louise Adrien,” quavered Sara. “Doom of mutantkind." 

  That confused Lance enough to blink. "Okay. You get points for supplying painkillers, so I’m not gonna kill ya *just* yet… but if you so much as *try* that again, you’ll see a whole new meaning to the words 'rock and roll’, got me?" 

  Todd rolled his eyes. _Damnit._ "Lance… shut the fuck up, okay? We need a plan." 

  "Huh?" 

  "Brief skinny,” said Todd. “Pie saw Sara naked. He’s gonna *talk*. Which means her Mom’s gonna go nuclear an’ hunt her down. And find her." 

  "Oh *fuck*,” said Lance. “I’m getting in the Jeep *now*." 

  "I’d put some pants on, first,” said Sara, apparently still in her misery coma. “I think the school board frowns on boxer shorts as much as they do pyjamas." 

  "Wait. Pie’s in his jimmy-jams?” said Todd. “Sara, yo’ problem jus’ solved itself." 

  She blinked at him. "I… don’t get it." 

+

  "You won’t *BELIEVE* what I just saw,” said Pietro, accosting the first person he could find. 

  “Lemme guess,” said Evan. “A mouse came outta your closet before you did?" 

  "What?" 

  "Cute outfit, Maximoff,” said Summers. 

  “Like, *love* the new look,” giggled Kitty. 

  “Thefuckyoutalkingab–” he looked down. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" 

  Of all the nights he had to wear the AbFab flannies, *last* night had to be it. He’d completely forgotten. 

  He was at school and he’d completely forgotten that he was still in his PJ’s. 

  His pink, glitter-painted _Absolutely Fabulous_ flannel jammies. 

And the gathering crowd had *noticed*. 

  ”*FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK*!“ 

~

  "GODDAMMITDAMMITDAMMITWHYMEEEEEI'MTOOCUTETODIESOCIALLY!” Pietro ranted at the top of his lungs while speeding home. The use of oxygen meant he was slower than usual while getting home. He sped up the stairs, slammed his door and dressed on some normal clothes. If he hurried, he could get back before word spread too far. Nobody would be able to match the story up if he was suddenly in clothes by first period. 

  Unbeknownst to Pietro, Lance had positioned himself in front of his room and was holding the linen closet door open. Pietro never suspected that there was a second door to go through when he opened the first and sped through it. 

  *WHHHAAAM* “FFFFFFUUU~*-” *THUMP* 

  Lance picked the dazed boy up by his shirt and dragged him into Sara’s room. Pietro was deposited unceremoniously on the ground in front of Sara and Todd. He shut the door behind him and stood in front of it. Lance was going to watch and if Pietro didn’t catch it from Sara, Lance would be more than happy to share the punishment he had unfairly suffered at her hands. 

  Todd was still in Sara’s arms and feeling too woobly to stand, but he turned on the death glare. Pie was still on the ground moaning about his social life and aching nose. They waited until he became aware of his surroundings. 

  Pietro saw Sara come into focus and screamed. He looked around wildly, noticing with horror that Lance was standing guard at the door. Left without another choice, he scrabbled for the only available shelter. The closet. Pietro jammed himself inbetween boxes and managed to close the sliding door only half way before the wheels got stuck. 

  “Calm *down*, fool. Yo makin’ this harder than it has to be.” Todd’s voice had a strange calmness to it. 

  “Stop being such a wuss,” Lance agreed. “We need to talk.”

~

  Sara stood and brushed herself off. Her heart was calmer than death as she stepped up to Maximoff’s hiding place. It was as if every emotion she possessed had gone into hiding in her mental warehouse. 

  “Mister Maximoff,” she said, the crisp tones of Boston invading her voice. “Whilst I normally believe that every being on the planet deserves a second chance… *you* had worn yours out when you elected to become a *quidnunc*[1]." 

  Pietro whimpered in his place. 

  "Furthermore, you’ve lead me to believe that our mutual security was at risk thanks to your flapping maw… so…” Sara cracked her knuckles, then her thumbs, then her wrists, elbows, shoulder blades, neck and - with a surprisingly graceful arc of her back - her spine. 

  Pietro quivered in place and made a bizarre, nonverbal noise of disgust. 

  She continued , cracking her hips, knees, ankles and toes. 

  Pietro did a marvellous impression of someone with epilepsy. 

  Sara bent and picked him up by the neck of his jammies, adding a little twist that cut off his air supply. “Breathe so much as one *word* about my early-morning activities to another soul and I swear by all that is Holy, I will find a way to make your life synonymous with dwelling in Hades. My vengeance will be long and compound. You will become my new hobby. And I further suspect that Todd will never forgive you, and pursue a similar plan." 

  Pietro coughed. ”…need… tobreathe…“ he gasped. 

  "But since you and your ilk only understand physical violence…” She carried him to the top of the stairs, wound up, baseball style - and then hurled him wholesale down the steps. “Don’t even *think* of so much as *breathing* incorrectly around either of us. Are we *clear*?" 

 [1] It’s synonymous with Peeping Tom, according to www.dictionary.com

~~

  Pietro’s body traveled down the stairs in five solid whumps and a lot of screaming for the second time that morning. Only this time, Todd wasn’t sharing the brunt of it. 

  Sara glared down at him as his body came to rest upside down against the front door. 

  "Don’t even *think* of so much as *breathing* incorrectly around either of us. Are we *clear*?" 

  Pietro managed a squeak. He moved his legs to the west, tipping himself out of his crash-landed position and onto his side. Once right-side up, he looked up the stairs. The she-demon was beginning to remind him a *lot* of Mystique, only Mystique never needed a *reason* to throw anybody down the stairs - at least not a good one. 

  It was going to be a very long time before Pietro went back into provocation mode. For now, surrender was the only clear way out of hell. He held up his hands. "Whatever you want, Essel." 

  "Sara,” Todd snapped, coming to stand by her. “You can at *least* get her name right, yo." 

  "Sara Essel?” Pietro tried again. 

  “Sara Louise *Adrien*,” she corrected icily. 

  “Sorry. Well, anyway…” He brushed himself off, putting on a cool act though his hands were shaking. “You’ve made it perfectly clear what’ll happen if I talk, and I’m impressed with the way you handled yourself. So yeah, I’ll keep my mouth shut." 

  "Yo sure you *can*, Quickie?" 

  "Positive,” Pietro snapped. “If I want to keep a secret, I’ll keep a secret. It’s not like *everyone* wants to know about Ess–” Killer death glares from Todd and Sara made him bite his tongue. “*Adrien’s* weird morning ritual… which by the way I saw by *complete* accident." 

  "So ya nose just happened to become glued to the window overnight?" 

  Pietro stamped his foot. "I wanted to see who was *singing*, dumbass! Getting an eyeful was the last thing on my mind!" 

  "You may have *seen* by accident, but what the hell gave you the right to keep watchin’?” Todd glowered. 

  The speedster’s mouth opened and closed, momentarily lack of wit. “Whatever. I said I wouldn’t say nothin’, and I won’t. If I gotta live with *another* psychobitch, I’d better play by her rules." 

  Todd’s hackles rose and at precisely the same time his legs gave out from under him. "Awww, this is whack, man,” he complained from the floor. Sara gathered him up and escorted him back to the room. 

  “*Please* don’t try to move until you’re better?”

~

  Todd, currently snuggled against her chest, in close proximity to her scent and in prime cuddling position, mumured, “Whatever you say, sugarlips." 

  "Psychobitch,” Sara muttered. “Hmph." 

  "Aw, don’t pay no 'tention to him, yo. I tole yo’. He’s an ass." 

  "Todd, dear, the company you keep has some deplorable habits,” Sara said as she nestled him back down into the matress that had served as her bed. “Theft, thuggery, *spying*…” she tisked. “I can understand theft for survival, dear, but some of Maximoff’s antics are above and beyond… It’s as if other people exist solely for his own entertainment." 

  Todd raised his eyebrows as he swallowed some more honey. That was both close to the mark *and* the bone. "Yo, how’d you figure that?" 

  "I’ve worked out who was responsible for the wholesale display of my belongings around the school campus,” said Sara. “Theft was possible, but he’d much rather arrange things for maximum mortification. He wasn’t out to survive, dear. He was *hunting*." 

  _Dayumn…_ "An’ I guess you heard stuff about me, too." 

  "What I hear and what I know are two different things. I *hear* you’d rip off anyone for a dollar, but I *know* that you’ve been through my bag several times, and all my wallets are intact." 

  "You know that?" 

  Sara grinned. "I can tell when my belongings have been disturbed. It’s routine for me to check my funds. I don’t even think of it.” She blushed. “Sorry." 

  "Naw, you were right to,” he said. “Time was, I mighta ripped yo’ off… but not no mo’.” His hands, now that they had nothing to do, drifted towards hers. “I… I like yo’. A lot." 

  There was a small emotional battle across her face. A small army of tic’s controlled her, but only for a moment. "You need something more solid in you than honey,” she said. “I’ve cleared enough things to make some hearty meals…" 

  "Yo, chicken soup be fine,” he smiled. “Honest." 

  "Then chicken soup you shall have." 

  Their lips met again, telling the truth of their emotions, deeper than 'like’, for certain. There was fear there, too. Fear of screwing things up. Fear of loss. Fear of breaking this one, fragile good thing that was going between them. 

  "I’ll be back,” said Sara. She was flushed and smiling. 

  “I’ll be waiting,” he panted. He couldn’t stop the goofy smile on his face.

~

  Pietro had vanished by the time Sara reached the kitchen. Several foodstuffs had been rummaged through, not unexpectedly. It would have been nice, though, if they’d thanked her for supplying it. Fred had left a note. 

  _Hey Sara, 

  Lance + me went to school. I packed lunches + Tabby took sum of the drinks when I wasn’t looking. Sorry. Hope you don’t mind. I put the good stuff on high shelves. 

  See you later :)

  Freddy_  

  Sara opened the cupboard door and saw that Freddy wasn’t kiddin’. Pietro and Tabby would have a hard time reaching anything up *there* considering that the only chair strong enough to stand on was the heavy armchair in the living room. That armchair was *Freddy’s* and darned near impossible to move. 

  She was tall enough however, and brought down a can of chicken soup and the bottle of multivitamins. Sara turned on the stove and set to work, feeling an odd sense of irony. She’d always cooked elaborate breakfasts for her mother and had to sneak the gift in, else it would be thrown out. This time she was cooking for someone who *wanted* it. 

  And it was naught but chicken soup. 

  Sara stirred the mixture to smoothness and taste. When it was hot and good, she ladled it into a bowl, turned off the stove and placed the offering on a tray along with a pitcher of water. The salt in the soup would make Todd thirsty and amidst all the excitement, he probably hadn’t gotten any water. 

  She walked upstairs to find him still on the bed with eyes closed. He opened them at the sound of her footsteps. “Missed you, yo." 

  "As did I.” She set the tray down and offered some water, which he took gratefully. Todd downed half the pitcher in eight seconds flat. With a sheepish grin, he set it back down on the tray. 

  “Yo, you been drinkin’ water too, right? Sometimes yo body don’t *tell* you it’s thirsty. It just reacts.” He was speaking from experience. Magneto had put them through four hours out in the desert of drilling, sparring, and endurance building with small breaks for water in between. Todd had seriously misjudged how much he needed to keep up with the others. After they revived the boy, Magneto had been furious with him for not knowing his limit - regardless of the fact that he had denied the young mutant coldly when he begged for more water. 

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Sara promised. She caught sight of the dry flakes on his upper arm and brushed them off. Todd moved into her touch gratefully. 

  “Feels good, yo,” he whimpered. Her hand moved around to his shoulderblade, eliciting another whimper. There were several patches of dry skin on his back in unreachable places, which made her itch in sympathy. Sara touched the hem of his shirt. 

  “Er, may I?" 

  "Sure,” Todd said. “Yo don’t have to though - it’s kinda gro–” Sara’s hand lifted away the fabric and her fingernails provided instant relief, peeling away the excess epidermis. Todd turned into a virtual puddle, forgetting he had started a sentence. “Oooohhhh… thank youuuuuu…”

~