Subject: [OTL]: (alt. Excalibur) Door-To-Door Search (PG-15; humor/slash) Date: Thu, 29 Apr 2004 22:55:18 -0700 (PDT) From: Phil Hartman will1@earthling.net Door-To-Door Search by Phil Hartman DISCLAIMER: They're all Marvel's, this time. Any other universes mentioned belong to their creators. No money is being made off of this. It's all fiction. Etc. NOTE: F/F themes, nothing graphic, and humor at Pete's expense. That, and an AU, as it'll become apparent ... NOTE 2: For Luba's birthday ... :) ------------------------------------------------------- 5/8/2004: Muir Island: 18:00 hrs local: ------------------------------------------------------- He wanted to scream. #'Wait for me, Pete.' 'Pet the flying rat, Pete.' 'Pete, can you pretend to be frightened of Lockheed ?'# Pete Wisdom did not like to pout. Pouting was for Summerses, and he was decidedly not one of those. But his Kitty was missing - or hiding - and he'd had an absolutely bloody awful day at the "office." First, it'd been some ex-Black-Air gits who'd decided that Ullapool could use some "urban redecorating." Then, it'd been Toad's version of the Brotherhood - which pretty much spelled out the threat level, and the only thing worse than fighting spandex idiots was fighting boring spandex idiots - and Pete was not happy that the Blob had tried to use him as a landing pad. THEN, Feron had been whining about his latest combat training session - why the little ponce was kept around, Pete never knew, other than the fact that Amanda kept the elf tied in knots if Feron wasn't given some leeway - so Pete had tried to up the threat level. #How was I t'know that MacTaggart's coffee was considered off-limits f'r 'hazardous waste' simulations?# Pete groused inwardly as he entered the hallway to the team quarters. The hallway of bedrooms was rather reminiscent of that annoying scene from "Matrix: Revolutions," with all the doorways across from each other. Pete loathed that movie, given that everyone in a suit eventually got their arse kicked and the leather-freaks lorded it over everyone ... #Stop whinin', you bloody idiot. Start knockin',# Pete snorted, pounding on the first door - - and raising an eyebrow as Brian Braddock stood before him, clad only in his uniform pants. "I was busy pouring bottles down the drain. This had better be important, Wisdom," Captain Britain growled. "In spandex pants? An' without a shirt?" Pete asked, curious enough at the sight - not THAT kind of curious, but more of a "Braddock-bottles-bad-news?" curious. Brian rolled his eyes and replied, "They're a spare pair with a rip in the arse, and my street clothes are all in the laundry. I'm not about to pour out cheap liquor in a perfectly good combat uniform, and the air conditioning is bloody well gone to the dogs. Do I meet your interrogation standards, Agent Wisdom?" "Shove off," Pete growled - Braddock could be halfway fun when he wanted to be, but those times were rare indeed. The ex-spy did a 180 and knocked on the door of the room across from Brian's, hoping to find someone home. #Maybe Meggan's 'in' this time,# Pete thought as the door opened to reveal the team's fey metamorph/elementalist. "Pete! I was just about to ask if someone had seen the pixies I'd invited for evening tea. They stiffed me on Beltaine - then again, the Cornish ones are usually so rude - and ... whatever's the matter with your face?" Meggan asked, pulling her blonde locks out of her line of sight. "Cornish ... pixies ...?" Pete replied, trying very hard not to snicker. Meggan put her hands on her hips and "harrumphed," adding, "Laugh if you must, but if I'M fey, then certainly there can be other fey in the world. And Ms. Rowling is far closer to the truth than many people want to admit. Now if you'll excuse me ..." She closed her door, and Pete shrugged before stepping to the door to Brian's right. He tapped on it, but stopped when he heard a loud "VAS!?" The door flew open, revealing a flustered-looking Kurt Wagner in jeans and a T-shirt speaking German at an incredibly high speed into a cel phone. He said something that Pete was roughly able to translate as "Wait a minute," then looked at his teammate with a pleading expression. "Wisdom. Thank God. Maybe you can help me - this verdammt mail-order wienerschnitzel company in Munich botched my request for beer brats. Could you put in a good threat for me? I vant to scream at them, but I just can't - I need a real bastard to do it," Kurt sighed. "Couldn't you just get Sefton t' teleport you there? Never mind - you seen Kitty?" Pete asked, secretly touched at the "bastard" reference, since he knew that Kurt meant it in the best possible way. "Nein - I think she was talking to Rachel," Kurt replied, shrugging before holding the phone to his ear and practically snarling into it. Pete closed the door - carefully; Kurt sounded like he was ready to grab a rapier - and tip-toed across the hall to knock on Amanda's door (why the two didn't room together was beyond Pete's knowledge, and frankly, he didn't want to anger Sefton). The door opened, to show a LOT of teeth. And tongue. And brimstone-smelling breath - - "BAD Fido! BAD! Back in the portal!" Pete managed to collect some of his wits - several of which had managed to make it almost to the Chunnel - before an embarassed Amanda appeared instead of the "pet." "I am SO sorry, Pete - I was channeling a new watch-beast, and the wretched thing got out of the wards - you were looking for Kitty ? Try Rachel's room," Amanda sighed, adjusting her stewardess' uniform. "Riiight," Pete said - that was all he could say, since more of his wits were still somewhere around Stonehenge than they were in the local vicinity. He let Amanda close her door, then went to knock on Kylun's. And was grateful that his last few wits were lost gleefully in the area of Nottingham, when two blades swung at his head and through his neck. "By the moons of Ee'rath, Wisdom! If you weren't who you were, my blades would have left me with a new wall-hanging!" the furred swordsman grumbled, sheathing the blades of Zz'ria. "Eek," Pete replied. "Ah. Looking for Shadowcat? I believe she and Phoenix were going to talk about something," Kylun said. "Excuse me, please - I have to practice my mocking of the dreaded S'imon Cowell." He closed the door in Pete's face, allowing the spy to cross the hallway and knock on Cerise's door. #There you are,# Pete groused as the last wit he'd lost parked somewhere in his cerebral cortex and waved a rugby flag from Liverpool. Then all the other wits revved their engines at the sight of an insectoid looming in Cerise's doorway. "Oh. Peter. Sorry - just testing my armor," Cerise said, removing the helmet. "I hope I did not frighten you." "No, luv - I'm gettin' used to shocks in doors," Pete sighed; some days with this lot, it just couldn't be helped, so he might as well play along and keep his wits in the mental parking garage while he had them. "Do you need something to deal with static cling? I find that taking large steps, instead of shuffling on carpet, prevents such shocks," Cerise said helpfully. "No - no. Thanks f'r the advice. Seen Kitty?" Pete asked. "Ah. She said she was going to discuss gender issues with Rachel," Cerise said, smiling. Pete's eyebrows shot up - then down; "gender issues" coming from Cerise could mean anything from intimacy to the merits of kilts as a means to combat infertility in human males. "Thanks," Pete sighed, almost wondering if it would be worth it to knock on Feron's door. He started to approach it, but the door flew open to reveal the chalk-skinned teen standing there with an outraged look and a remote control. "This - 'remote' - has shown me NOTHING but idiotic talking heads! I demand my MTV!" Feron snapped. "Aw, toss the bloody remote an' go t' the common room, y' daft little prat," Pete snarled back - that felt SO much better. Feron's upper lip trembled, but he padded off down the hall after slamming his door shut. Pete smiled, satisfied that his Wisdom-ness was restored, and he ignored his room to turn to face ... Kitty and Rachel's. He'd agreed to not whine, moan or snarl about the fact that the two old friends had wanted to share a room. They were old friends. That was all. #Old friends. That's it,# Pete reassured himself, sweating where he stood. He held an ear to the door - Summers could bloody well "hear" his thoughts anyhow, so the effort at listening in would be considered silly, instead of annoyingly jealous - and concentrated. Someone ... moaned. #Moaned,# Pete thought, going pale. #MOANED.# "No ... oh, Kit, no ... please ... ain't I man enough f'r y' anymore!? Pryde, come BACK t'me ! I'M SORRY !!!" Pete sobbed, dropping to his knees. The others' doors opened, and they looked at Pete with varying expressions - pity, concern, annoyance, confusion, and even bemusement. Pete was surprised to see the bemused look come from Kitty, and from HIS doorway. "What're you hollering about, Pete? I was in here rewiring the AC - Brian, I'll get yours next, sorry about the wait," she called, as Lockheed balanced himself on her shoulders. Brian nodded, ducking back into his room, and the others followed suit. Pete got to his feet, then looked over his shoulder at the door to Kitty and Rachel's room. Rachel stood in the doorway, looking thoroughly annoyed, with an arm around Mariko Yashida. "I thought - I - bloody 'ell," Pete stammered, letting a giggling Kitty grab his arm and pull him into his room. "Wisdom ... Kate was like a mother to me in my future. Kitty and I are good friends, but not THAT good. Besides, Mariko and I are ... well, we're us. Now go and beg forgiveness from Kitty. Go on - shoo," Rachel grumbled, before she slammed the door. Kitty arched an eyebrow as she knelt in front of the half-disassembled air conditioner, then looked at Pete. "A'right, I'm a bloody paranoid idiot. I mean, she's got flames, I've got flames ... and she's a bloody sight more powerful. And she knows y'better. An' -" Pete trailed off. That was before Kitty tackled and kissed him. "You complain instead of angst. Now go tell Brian to stop wasting all that booze and get some of it for later tonight. The Godzilla marathon is on, and there's nothing like being drunk and MST3K-ing badly dubbed movies," Kitty ordered. "Bloody 'ell, you're incredible," Pete gushed, returning her kiss. A small roar and the click of the TV made them look over at the nightstand, where Lockheed was raptly watching Godzilla and mimicking the monster. "Bloody flying rat," Pete grumbled good-naturedly as Lockheed continued his "rampage through Tokyo" routine. Kitty looked at him, and Pete sighed. "I'll say it," he groused. "'Godzilla ? AIEEEE !'" "ROAR!" #Only f'r you, Pryde ...# ------------------------------------------------------- finis ... ;) -------------------------------------------------------