She chased her prey over expanses of brown and green, a smile gracing her mocha-colored features.

Storm always enjoyed a good chase. But this time, her prey was evading her too well; she only barely managed to graze it with her fingertips before it danced and spiraled out of reach again.

“Ororo...”

Storm looked up at Kurt across the brown leather couch and green fleece throw. “Yes?”

“If I let you catch my tail, will you bake those chocolate-chip cookies for me again?”

Storm grinned. “Sure, Kurt.”

So what if it had taken a bribe? Storm had caught her prey.