THE DOMESTICS STORY ARC
STORY SUMMARY: Domestic life with the X-Men.
DISCLAIMERS: All characters and organizations (with the exception of small, mostly unnamed minor characters) are the product of Marvel.
CANONICAL NOTES: This story arc accepts movieverse canon for First Class, X1, X2, and X3. XO (Origins) is ignored. Powers for major characters follow movieverse, with the exception of Remy LeBeau/Gambit who is based on comicverse.
LANGUAGE AND ACCENTS: Cajun French is courtesy of Heavenmetal (many thanks). I will attempt to reproduce accents in this story arc.
- 1.1 -
Story Summary: St. John Allerdyce had to be the most technically challenged person on the planet.
Canonical Notes: Set sometime shortly following X1.
Author's Note: Written from a challenge by the 15_minute_fic Livejournal community; partly inspired by hazy_crazy's request for more Kitty/Pyro fanfic.
- 1 -
"You're front-loading the queue," Kitty drawled blandly in St. John Allerdyce's direction.
She had taken over the IT requests board on Scott's behalf three weeks ago, and since that time, not only had she rescued Hank's computer from his negligent defragging ways and convinced Ororo that threatening any kind of electronic machinery with imminent electrical destruction was just. not. healthy., but she had also become burdened with the most technically-challenged individual on the face of the earth. He had to be.
St. John flicked open his lighter and snapped it shut deliberately. He knew she hated that sound. (One of the disadvantages to sitting in front of him in English class, besides wondering every second if flames would come crawling up her back, was that he knew every single thing that irritated her enough to break her focus.)
Kitty hid her growing frustration with a growing blandness she tried to cultivate when he was around. "May I remind you, St. John," she explained patiently in her best professional voice (the one she knew he hated), "that all students must wait for their previous IT ticket to close before submitting another one?"
He shrugged and flicked his lighter again.
Kitty growled and proceeded to storm through her latest batch of triage. Four requests to salvage lost homework, two requests to add more memory on some of Hank's most overloaded chuggers, and fourteen requests of various incarnations of charred electronic equipment on behalf of her worst and most terrible offender: St. John Allerdyce.
"Grinding's bad for your teeth," he threw out with a smirk.
Kitty glared at him, then turned back to her computer screen, intent on ignoring him.
It was the work of almost twenty minutes to sort through all the requests and prioritize them. Naturally, she saved St. John's for last. She was beginning to think he caused literal meltdown on purpose.
Then she opened the last request. She blinked. She sat straight back in her highly nonergonomic office chair. (Scott could not be convinced to equip her little secretarial corner of his office with anything like comfort. Too expensive, he claimed.) She opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again.
She squealed, not having noticed St. John approach and lean over her desk. He clenched his lighter tightly in one hand but didn't open it.
Kitty looked back down at her computer screen.
Will you go out with me?
She opened her mouth, ready to lambast him for his lousy wooing techniques, for his irritating habits, for his overblown ego to give her no. good. reason. to give him a chance, but what came out was a shocking, surprising, and very, very scary, "Yes."