Pairing: Sabretooth, Birdy

Rating: PG-13, one or two bad words

Summary: Creed goes nosing around in Birdy's personal things and gets the bejeezus scared outta him.

Author's Notes: I haven't written in nearly four years. This was an exercise to see if I still could. Or could pretend to, anyway. Constructive feedback is always welcomed. This hasn't been beta'd and may contain errors, so feel free to point them out to me.


Victor Creed was crouched down in front of the bathroom cabinet, pulling out items and cussing at them. Globs of shaving cream slid from his foam covered beard only to plop to the floor as he dug further back under the sink. Huffing in frustration, he haphazardly replaced the various assortment of exotic and highly-priced soaps, creams and fragrances trying to keep most of them upright before closing the cabinet door. Creed stood, annoyed, with his hands on his towel-covered hips. He noted with some dismay that the large mirror was now completely free of its post-shower condensation, marking the amount on time that had gone by. Gruffly, Creed grabbed a hand towel and wiped the majority of the now nearly-liquid foam from his face. Reluctantly he thought, "Fuck it" and was about to wash the remaining shaving cream from his face, giving up on being clean shaven for the day, when a thought came to him. He smirked to himself, grabbed his can of shaving cream and marched down the hall to Birdy's own bathroom. If the woman was gonna forget to pick up a pack of razors for him, then he'd just use one of hers…and leave a mess in her sink to remind her not to let it happen again.

After weaving through Birdy's bedroom to her private bath, Creed flipped on the vanity light over the sink. He let the water run, getting it nice and scalding before plugging the drain. Opening the doors to the cabinets, Creeds dug through Birdy's bath items looking for her stash of leg razors. He chuckled with evil mirth. Not only would he leave her a sudsy, hairy mess in the sink, but he'd make sure to put the razor he was going to use back for her to use later. Oh yeah. That'd teach her to forget his razors.

Not having any luck with the first cabinet, Creed moved on to the next, knocking over bottles and tossing powder puffs out of the way. Frowning slightly, he reached further back intent on pulling the contents forward onto the floor. As he did so, he heard crinkling. He grabbed the noise maker and brought it out to inspect it. It was a white paper bag with the name of a local pharmacy inked onto the side. The receipt stapled to one side was time-stamped from three days ago. Curious, Victor opened the bag and pulled out the single item.

Inside was a rectangular, blue box. The contents were printed in white scripting letters on the box's front. 'At Home Pregnancy Test' Amber orbs scanned left and right, reading the words over and over. He shook the box noting how light it was. Noting how empty it was. Suddenly, as if the box had produced an electric current, Creed flung the box from his hand, simultaneously falling onto his rear. He scooted away from the offensive package, trying to put as much space as possible between himself and the box and the ideas it represented.

"It ain't possible," Creed told himself, disbelieving. Of course, it could be possible. There was no reason for it not to be possible. Logically, his brain told him, it may well be probable and now what the hell was he going to do about it? And there in Birdy's opulent bathroom, the woman herself appeared, smiling down at Creed.

"So Boss, whattya think?" she asked sweetly. It was then that he noticed her large, swollen belly, barely contained by the clothing she wore.

His eyes got larger as he lifted a shaking finger to point at her, "What the hell…"

Birdy merely shrugged a shoulder. "Oh, you know how it goes. Once ya get started…" she left the comment unfinished and smiled as tiny voices began to speak up.

"Hey, Daddy!"

"Hey, Daddy!"

"Hey, Daddy!"

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddydaddydaddydaddy!"

There was nothing but little blonde heads filling Victor's line of vision. Swarming around Birdy's legs were countless toddlers, boys and girls, all eerily similar looking and all coming towards Creed. It was like Village of the Damned and Creed felt plenty damned right about now.

"Aren't they just the cutest?" Birdy asked with a sugary squeak, ruffling the hair of a miniature Victor hugging her thigh.

A cold sweat broke out over Creed's body as he watched the scene. The little versions of himself and Birdy were giggling and playing with one another now, paying the large, half-naked man on the floor no mind. Victor shook his head in denial. This was not happening. It wasn't going to happen. Shuffling backward on the floor Creed turned to the door to stand, all the while keeping his eyes on the gaggle of children crowding the room. Finally turning to leave, Creed ran into something yielding that "oofed" when he bumped into it. Looking up, Creed again saw Birdy standing in front of him but her figure was back to the slim, svelte form of which he was familiar. Relief washed over him and he smiled up at the blonde telepath.

"Boss? What're you…"

"Girl, lemme just say it's good to be able to get my arms around ya," Creed said as he put his hands on Birdy's slender hips, pulling himself up to stand. He smiled easily before remembering himself and his anxiety-induced hallucination from mere seconds ago. He coughed and furrowed his brow, "Uh, I mean my hands around yer neck! Where's my razors? You said ya got me some but I ain't seen 'em. An' what the hell is that?!" he asked, his gruff voice increasing in volume as he pointed to the abandoned blue box on the floor.

Birdy followed to where Creed was pointing, noting her pillaged cabinets with a frown, their contents littering the floor. She walked past Creed, picked up the box and smiled. "Oh," she giggled. "Yeah, I was gonna tell ya about that but I figured I didn't need to after it was negative. Didn't wanna freak ya out or anything."

"Yeah, well, ain't like it matters any but uh, next time, an' there better not be a next time, gimme a little warnin'. Liable to scare a man to death findin' one o' those lyin' around." Creed finished his weak command by assuming a dominating stance, crossing his arms over his chest. He squinted slightly to give a menacing look, just for added measure.

Birdy smiled that pretty girl smile that reminded Creed of one of the reasons why he kept her around. "We could always practice, though," she airily commented as she tossed the box onto the counter and gave Creed a naughty wink. Creed only lifted his chin in response to the proposition. An afternoon roll in the sack was always a good idea and damn if he didn't love her just for suggesting it. Birdy sauntered to stand in front of Creed, her hands on his towel. "Whattya say, Boss?"

"Always, dollface. But yer in for some hella whisker-burn."