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  • Linda J
    DISCLAIMERS AND SUCH ARE IN CH1 Chapter 10 To those around the table, it must have seemed that Sabretooth was starting to feel more at home. His spontaneous
    Message 1 of 1 , Sep 28, 2002
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      Chapter 10
      To those around the table, it must have seemed that Sabretooth was
      starting to feel more at home. His spontaneous grunting and growling
      had nearly come to a complete stop.
      Surely this was a good sign.
      Sabretooth sat quietly among those once considered his enemy and
      though he was no where ready to call any here his friend, he gazed at
      those in his company with casual easy.
      He noticed how comfortable Jean and Scott looked sitting next to each
      other; even reaching under the table to hold hands. He was not yet
      aware of the trouble Logan had caused for the two love birds while he
      was there.
      If he had, Sabretooth may have for once cheered the runt on. Perhaps
      for no other reason than to see the much too handsome, too
      intelligent and too heroic Scott Summers left as alone, dejected and
      miserable as he.
      He then observed the other couple, Ororo and Forge.
      Sabretooth would never admit it to a living soul, but he kinda had a
      thing for `the weather girl'. Bullying her around was his way of
      flirting. Even though he scared the crap out of Storm; she never
      backed down. She gave him every bit of what he deserved and he liked
      that in a woman.
      `So what's the tool-man got that I ain't got?' he wondered to himself
      staring at the stoic Indian with half-closed eyes. Sabretooth quickly
      found his answer. `Brains, dumb ass! ! Brains!'
      He sighed, knowing that he was more likely to find a concession stand
      selling snow-cones in hell then he would have a chance at winning
      Storm's affection. He noticed that even though Storm and Forge did
      not sit at the table holding hands, they looked every bit as
      inseparable as the other pair.
      `Weather girl's too prissy for my taste anyway. She looks like the
      kind who expects the man to have manners. Bet she even makes the tool
      man use a condom.' He had to think of one more bad point about Storm
      however before he could let his infatuation with her go. Then it came
      to him.
      `Bet she don't even give head; and if she did, damn sure she don't
      swallow. Humph. Forge can have her.'
      Sabretooth then found himself observing Dr. McCoy and he recalled how
      much it bothered Magneto that he could not convince Hank to come over
      his side of the battle. `Just as well Fuzzy didn't join up with
      Mags." Sabretooth thought to himself. 'I would have spent all day
      just lookin' up them twenty dollar words those two like to throw
      Thinking of Magneto made Sabretooth think of the Professor.
      He knew that Charles and Eric had once been the closest of friends;
      and even though Magneto would himself slander Charles' name in a
      heart beat, he didn't hesitate to wrap some poor bastard up with a
      steel beam just for calling his friend a crippled Mr. Clean.
      That thought, began Sabretooth's mind on another long, deep,
      contemplative, philosophical journey that he and all felines are so
      fond of.
      Most people would have mistaken him for being half-asleep when in
      fact he was mentally examining the conflict between love and hate
      *How strong was their (love and hate's) connection? Can you hate the
      same thing you love? What if hate is essentially just another form of
      `Hmmm…this is going to take some thinking.' Sabretooth realized.
      He was able to make one conclusion at that time however.
      In order to know love, you must understand hate.
      He understood hate well enough. But…did he know love?
      `Hmmm…yes, I have much thinking to do.'
      He sat there in his chair deeply concentrating on this great mystery
      unfolding in front of him, unaware and unconcerned of what was being
      said around him.
      He kept his eyes only partly open; an unconscious defense mechanism
      that every cat relies upon.
      However, just as he was about to solve the marvelous and delicate
      balance between love and hate, from the corner of his eye he caught
      sight of, "it", and instantly his concentration broke.
      At first, he tried ignoring, "it", but with no success.
      The instrument of devilish desire taunted him, teased him and enticed
      him like a tempting seductress luring him into her bed.
      Then, just a soft and nearly inaudible, "grrrrrrrrr…" escaped from
      Sabretooth's lips as he watched the playful toy urge him to commit
      "Play with me! Play with me!" The big, bouncy, bright purple fuzzy
      ball repeatedly seemed to whisper to him as it danced in the air. To
      make the temptation even more unbearable, its great big goolgely eyes
      that were staring at him, made a "click-click" sound every time the
      ball took a sudden change of direction.
      Then with speed too fast for the human eye to catch, Sabretooth was
      on his feet stretching his long body toward Mercy and snatched the
      purple ball of fuzz right from her hand. "My pen!" she cried.
      Before he was back in his chair however, every one in the room was
      ready for his next move. Forge pointed a large pistol at the
      felinoid's face, Scott had his visor set to fire; not to mention the
      clap of thunder everyone was sure they heard outside.
      Mercy looked around the room amazed by all this show of force. "Relax
      guys, it's JUST a pen!"

      William Stryker had wasted no time to find a willing, loyal,
      trustworthy assassin who was highly qualified to "fulfill God's
      The gunman waited outside of Senator Kelly's home for an opportune
      moment to fire. As the limo came to a stop, and a security guard
      opened the door for Senator Kelly to get out, the sniper aimed his
      rifle. He watched the Senator walk up to his door with Ms. Brown
      following only a step or two behind.
      Just as Kelly was at the door step to his townhouse however, he
      paused to allow his assistant to go inside first. The senator turned
      his body just slightly and for that second he was vulnerable to the
      sniper's attack.
      *pink* was the only sound the bullet made as it struck Kelly in his
      chest and exited from the other side.
      His body guard was certain he recognized the sound, but Kelly did not
      fall, nor even slump. At the very worst, he appeared to be suffering
      from nothing more than a serious case of indigestion.
      "Senator Kelly, are you alright?" the man suspiciously asked.
      Kelly held his head up high and even gave the guard a causal
      smile. "Why wouldn't I?"
      The man's instincts conflicted with what the Senator told him. Still,
      if Kelly was hurt, why would he deny it?
      So, as much as it disturbed him, Kelly's body guard let the feeling
      Kelly in the mean time put his hand up to the fresh wound and quickly
      grabbed Sherry by the arm. "Get rid of him, NOW!" he demanded in a
      voice that Sherry had never heard before. Shocked, she looked at the
      Senator's face and gasped as she found herself looking into a strange
      set of yellow eyes.
      Kelly hurriedly went inside, leaving Sherry to deal with the
      guard. "Tell the Col. I can take it from here, Bradley." Her voice
      was firm and business like. With that she promptly went inside and
      closed the door on the Senator's guard, Roger Bradley.
      She followed the trail of blood that led upstairs into Kelly's
      bathroom. Sherry found the door partly closed; the light on and the
      sink's faucet running. Carefully she walked in and found a very pale,
      drained Edward Kelly struggling to keep himself conscious as he sat
      on the edge of the bath tub.
      "Senator," Sherry spoke softly. "You need to go to the hospital.
      All Kelly was shaking his head to say "no". Then as the water in the
      sink seemed to run for no apparent reason, he said in his usual
      voice, "Just help me to my bed. That's all, Ms. Brown."
      Sherry held out her hand for Kelly to grab onto. She helped him to
      his feet, and slowly they walked to his king size bed; his blood was
      beginning to soak through her business jacket and through her silk
      As they approached the edge, he collapsed in her arms.
      As Sherry lowered his limp body on the bed, she watched and felt his
      body transform into something bizarre.
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