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FIC: Choices, 3/?, R/NC17, W/R R/G W/f

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  • fyrdrakken@JUNO.COM
    DISCLAIMERS POSTED IN PART 0 * * * run desire run this sexual being run him like a blade to and through the heart no conscience one
    Message 1 of 1 , Jul 12, 2001

      * *
      "run desire run this sexual being run him like a blade to and through the
      heart no conscience one motive to cater to the hollow
      screaming feed me here fill me up again temporarily pacify this
      — "the hollow," by A Perfect Circle
      * *
      Cicely had a mutant healing factor, and the enhanced senses that seemed
      to be the inevitable corollary. This was not the first thing that
      intrigued Logan about her, and it damned sure wasn’t what intrigued most
      other male occupants of the household and not a few females as well.
      Cissy was tall — right at six foot — blond, blue-eyed, with strong but
      well-balanced features and whisper-smooth skin. To say nothing of being
      built like a brick outhouse.
      She was stacked. She was also strong — and fast, and temperamental. Logan
      had more than a suspicion that Sabretooth may have been passing through
      Wisconsin twenty-odd years ago. This idea bothered him not at all — the
      girl couldn’t help who her parents were, and even if Sabe *was* her
      father he hadn’t had anything to do with the raising of her. In fact, it
      was pretty goddamn funny to think of the opposition having added to the
      X-Men’s number, even if in a long-delayed and indirect fashion.
      Ciss was well past her school days when she was brought to Chuckie’s
      attention, but she came to Westchester willingly enough, to learn about
      her mutation and join the team. What teaching she *did* need was mainly
      along the lines of learning to use her enhanced abilities to their
      fullest potential and training in physical combat — both of which Logan
      was the most qualified to help her with.
      As far as Cicely was concerned, it was nothing short of a sign from God
      to find a man who shared her particular mutation despite being completely
      unrelated. (Which he was — the shared abilities were just unique enough
      to be worth having Hank McCoy run a quick blood test on the pair of them
      to rule out a familial relationship. The X-Men not having access to any
      samples of Victor Creed’s DNA, Logan kept his suspicions along those
      lines to himself since they couldn’t be verified or disproved.) Getting
      to spend so much one-on-one time with Logan suited her just fine, while a
      number of the unattached X-Males ground their teeth at how unbelievable
      lucky a bastard Wolvie was for getting to run off into the woods for
      "tracking lessons" with a Norse goddess.
      The tracking was fun — learning how to use her enhanced senses, and how
      to handle herself out where her mutation could really be tested against
      the environment, whether in the comparatively tame woods surrounding the
      school or out on a camping trip to somewhere wilder. But what really got
      Cissy’s blood going was the combat sessions, sweat and muscle exertion
      and instincts assuring her that she was currently wrestling with a prime
      alpha male specimen of her own species.
      As far as Cissy was concerned, it was a match made in heaven. It was so
      obvious it didn’t bear mentioning.
      Logan would have been very surprised indeed had she ever mentioned it to
      *him*. Because what was obvious to *him* was that Marie for whatever
      incomprehensible reasons was currently favoring that dickheaded Cajun
      over himself, and such a situation was so ludicrous as to almost
      *require* an eventual change for the better. The man was clearly a prize
      flake, and once the new wore off, Marie had too much sense to stick with
      him for life. Wasn’t the American divorce rate at about 50%? So despite
      her marriage to his rival, he remained hopeful.
      And in the meantime, he occupied some of his spare time with other women.
      Ciss was his first fling under the roof of the X-Mansion itself, and he
      went into it with preconceptions shaped by his sex life up to that point.
      He was used to having a lot of meaningless sex, based on physical
      attraction and the adrenaline buzz following a good fight. Cissy was
      clearly cut from the same fabric as himself, and he wasn’t at all averse
      to a good rowdy fuck after a practice session in the Danger Room, or
      better yet after getting back from a mission (especially once Ciss made
      full teammember). It was fun, it was convenient not to have to go into
      town to get laid, and there wasn’t a whole hell of a lot of talk
      They *should* have talked. They really should have.
      * *

      She Whose Quotations Are Both Exotic and Appropriate
      Keeper of his Deadly Startle Reflexes, Guardian and Examiner of the
      Adamantium-Revealing X-Rays, and Official Listener for the Occasional
      Aussie Vowels

      "When did things start going so bad? I've been talking to dead rabbits
      and feeding bloody walls. I've done horrifying things with salad tongs.
      It's really eaten into my social life."
      -- Johnny C, JOHNNY THE HOMICIDAL MANIAC #6, by Jhonen Vasquez
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