Loading ...
Sorry, an error occurred while loading the content.

4641fic: A Very Merry Crimbo, PG12, sillyfic

Expand Messages
  • Alana Helbling
    Dec 9 2:26 PM
      A Very Merry Crimbo :

      Author: Alana

      Feedback: Sure, to alana_helbling@...

      Disclaimer: not mine, I’m just borrowing them, although I’m more than willing to kiss the boo-boos that I inflict better before I return them.

      Category: Humour, with R/L overtones.

      Summary: Logan, Christmas Eve and a rebellious turkey – or turkeys depending on how you look at it.

      Warning: Silly fic, sorry, the fact that my frightens-the-shit-out-of-me form tutor is wearing a Santa hat on her head is getting to me.

      Author’s Notes: Thanks very much for all the feedback for ‘Misunderstandings’ – it was kinda overwhelming! Someone asked for a sequel involving Remy and Jubes, but I have to confess I don’t feel secure enough in these characters to do one, so I guess there’s a plot bunny going free to a good home, for anyone that wants it. This is dedicated to my sis’, whose bad mood due to mock exams has been throwing bunnies at me from right, left and centre. I’m not sure if I love or hate her for that.

      Logan was worried. Very worried. As a matter of fact, he was terrified, but he was damned if he would show it.

      Everyone knew Christmas this year would have to be rather quiet when the professor got ill. Nothing life threatening, but enough that he required around the clock attendance from Jean. Then Scott came down with the same thing. And finally, a young alpha mutant had been discovered who had powers with more than a passing similarity to Marie’s, so she had had to go with the remaining adults to pick him up. Their promises that they’d only be gone a few hours soon became void when a giant snowstorm swept into their area and left them stranded. As Storm had informed them at midday on Christmas eve, to interfere with this particular storm, which was annoying although not life threatening, would undoubtedly cause floods elsewhere in the world which would have fatalities, and therefore there was nothing that could be done but wait it out. It ought to clear out in time for them to arrive back very early Christmas morning. So it soon became clear that Logan would be spending Christmas Eve, alone, in a house full of children, with only a handful of adolescents to help him.

      Yeah, terrified just about covered it.

      *It should not be too arduous, Logan* the professor’s mental voice sounded rather reedy, despite the fact that his illness shouldn’t be affecting it. *A list of what has to be done and when is stuck to the refrigerator, along with book and page references in the cases of cooking. Most of the work should consist of amusing the children. Oh and by the way, don’t forget the Yule log needs to be arranged.* Logan could have sworn he heard the telepath chuckle at his loud cussing as he realised exactly what that would entail. Fire and children should never mix, was his firm belief. Bellowing at the top of his lungs, he summoned what would be his help for the weekend. Within a few minutes, Jubilee, Kitty, Bobby, Johnny and Remy had assembled in the kitchen. He glared at them, aware that none of this was their fault, but not really being able to stop himself from taking it out on them.

      "Right, we’re the only ones left so we gotta take care of the kids. You ‘amuse’ them, and I’ll take care of whatever is on the list. If either of us needs any help, yell." Upon receiving nods from all concerned parties, he menacingly looked first at them, and then the door, and they scuttled out of the kitchen. Still scowling, he stalked over to the refrigerator and looked at the first item.

      1) Feed the turkey.

      When the vegetarians at the mansion had loudly protested at the fact they would be having a traditional Christmas dinner, the professor had reached a compromise by promising that not only would there be a vegetarian alternative, but that a live turkey would be bought and ‘saved from slaughter’ as Auroro had shouted, as repayment for the one they would eat. And so, a run with a heated floor and hutch was duly built, and the bird, christened ‘Waffles’ installed inside.

      But this was no ordinary turkey. This bird had homicidal tendencies. It was well known for charging at whoever came near it. When the professor held a small informal ‘opening and welcoming ceremony’ for Waffles, it’s attempts to remove his eye had been unforeseen, and thus, nearly successful. Bobby still bore a bruised collar bone from when it’s last assassination attempt consisted of trying to jump off the hutch roof onto him, and when that had only caused a glancing blow, chasing him around the run, until he was forced to admit defeat, drop the entire bag of feed and scramble for the door. But this didn’t worry Logan. Grabbing the bag of feed and a bucket of water, he headed outside. Trudging through the slush until he reached the run, he opened the door, stepped inside and closed it again. He picked up the feed in one hand, bucket in the other, and walked towards the trough. He never had a chance as the large, and fairly heavy fowl, launched itself at him and grabbed hold of the easiest part to reach – his groin. Logan did the first thing that came to mind – and hit it with the bucket in his hand. The resultant was that the previously flightless bird now found itself airborne, still with a large amount of Logan’s jeans and boxers clamped in it’s beak (although his more important parts had thankfully escaped amputation). Hurriedly, he dumped the food and water in the appropriate places and ran for the door, slamming it shut, and locking it before heading back inside. Deciding he’d better change his trousers before he attempted anything else, he rounded the corner of the corridor, to run slap bang into the still healthy population of the school, most of whom were about waist – and other places – high. Ignoring the dropped jaws of Kitty and Jubilee, and the envious glares of the boys, he slammed his hands over the offending exposed flesh, and then the Wolverine did something he’d never before done in his life and ran to his room.

      Changed into new jeans, and trying to forget about Jubilee’s waggled eyebrows and audible comments about how unfair it was that Marie got to open her package early, Logan inspected the list again.

      2) Help the children with their Christmas lists.

      3) Set up the fire and prepare the Yule log.

      Logan sighed, and headed into the lounge where the children were sitting in a glorious mess of felt tip pens, brightly coloured paper, glue and scissors. Ignoring the still grinning Jubilee, he walked up to Kitty and asked if they were handling the kids all right. Blushing and unable to look him in the face, kitty replied that they were doing fine.

      "Good. Well, in that case, I’m gonna go set up the fire, OK?" He didn’t wait for her nod before going into the next room to complete his assigned task. Finishing up, he banked the fire so it would last a good couple more hours and headed back into the kitchen to read the list one more time.

      4) Make glaze for turkey.

      5) Glaze turkey.

      6) Put turkey in oven.

      Wrinkling his nose in disgust, Logan opened every window in the kitchen and it’s nearby vicinity. Cooking was never easy to a nose as sensitive as his, and any extra ventilation would come in handy. Pulling down the recipe book, he turned to the appropriate page, and inspected it. It seemed pretty straightforward compared to some of the dishes he’d been privy to watching Marie whip up over the time they’d been together. He was living with someone who’d spent one and half-hours lecturing him on the importance of the food to the continuation of Christmas tradition, especially the turkey. If he couldn’t do this, what sort of a pansy was he?

      Grabbing a mixing bowl, and the ingredients, he soon learnt that appearances were deceiving. Half an hour later, he heaved a silent sigh of relief as he managed to produce something that matched the description in the book. The kitchen was a mess, with half full bowls lying over the counter at random points, and one of his failed attempts had ended up spilt on the floor, but he had done it.

      And a good thing too – if this one had gone wrong, he’d have had to run out to the store to get some more ingredients. Carefully applying the glaze, he studied the advice on cooking times – 5 hours now, and a final two tomorrow morning to finish it off, he read.

      ‘OK’, he thought, ‘5 hours it will be’, and with infinite care bent down to slide the turkey into the oven. One problem became immediately apparent – it wasn’t going to fit. A tentative shove did no good at all. Neither did a more determined one. Logan snarled, put his weight behind it and pushed. His feet slipped in the glaze still lying on the floor and he fell forwards, taking the turkey with him. He and the tray hit the floor with a moments difference between them, but that was sufficient for him to land on the edge of tray, tipping it up, and sending the turkey flying out of the open window behind him, through the thin sheet of ice covering the pond in courtyard, where it sank out of sight. Logan could do nothing but stare in disbelief.

      Which he did.

      Then he swore.

      A lot.

      Then he tried to suppress the beserker rage in order to think.

      He still had another glaze to do another bird, but what other bird was a problem. Marie had impressed upon him the importance of having a turkey at Christmas, but where the hell was he going to find another one? With grim realisation, his gaze slowly fell on Waffles’ run, where the unfortunate fowl was amusing himself. His expression set, Logan unsheathed his claws and walked outside.

      "Bogan, bot are you doing?" came a rather stuffed up voice from the outside door, carrying to Logan’s sensitive ears as he stood in the wreckage that had been the turkey run. He was covered from head to foot in mud, plant debris and patches of feed, with the occasional feather here and there – including one that was sticking out of his ear. His facial expression rivalled the one Hank had worn when he had discovered that the report he’d been working on for six months had accidently been deleted when Remy had tried to download porn on Hank’s computer.

      "Our damn lunch met when an accident, so I’m tryin’ to rustle up an understudy, and what are you doing up Slim?" Marie’d kill him if Scooter got even worse, reflected Logan ruefully.

      "Jean’s asleeb, so I had to get my owd drink, and deres and emergency turkey in duh freezer. Duh professor always buys one, just in case, but don’t tell Storm."

      "Oh. Thanks."

      Having gotten his point across, Scott nodded sleepily and headed back upstairs. Logan began to trudge into the house. As the door closed, Waffles emerged, crossed the courtyard unseen, and disappeared into the woods at the back of the house.

      Eventually the turkey went in the oven – defrosted, thanks to Johnny, and glazed, hacked into pieces (and some would say it was done with unnecessary vigour) and wrapped in tinfoil by Logan. Cleaning up the mess he’d made with the glaze, Logan carefully prepared the rest of the food, and left it covered at the back of the counter to go into the oven when it was needed. Thankfully, All of the children were settled down quietly in the lounge, so lighting the Yule log and placing all the carefully decorated into ‘Santa’s post box’ went without incident. Kitty and Jubilee had used the small staff kitchen to mass-produce chicken nuggets, fish fingers and chips for their dinner, and then the sleepily excited children were put to bed. As the dormitory doors closed, a look of mutual understanding passed between the babysitters, and without a word, they retreated to their own rooms, and as one, fell on their beds and fell asleep. Logan never really slipped into a deep sleep until the sun began to peek over the horizon, having risen a total of three times during the night – once to take out the turkey, and twice to deal with kid/bathroom related incidents. He did, however, stir as an exhausted Marie slipped into bed with him. Barely able to keep his eyes open, he somewhere found the energy to turn to her and say

      "Marie, new ground rule. We’ll be having kids someday, but we’re waiting a while first." Marie, all too aware of what Logan had finally realised, nodded sleepily, and slid into his arms, and they both fell asleep, blissfully unaware of the shrieks of excited children coming from downstairs.

      With Yahoo! Mail you can get a bigger mailbox -- choose a size that fits your needs

      [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]