This story contains some marvel characters and ideas that are all theirs, any I have made up are all mine. None of what is written in any way reflects the views or ideas of Marvel or its affiliates or the actors who portray those characters. This is pure fiction. It also contains some delightful man loving, (regrettably not in this chapter) if any of that stuff offends you, or if it is illegal were you are, then you may kindly exit the page! For all others please enjoy!
() = Thoughts
Jinn: A beyond the X-men Story
Anger. Hot and acidic, like peppers and lemons swirled together. Someone, probably the lawyer Tom mentioned, was pissed-off inside my house. He had to be extremely mad for the anger in his scent to be so strong. I could barely smell him under all that rage. Deep breath, and enter. My father was slumped over, his knees on the couch, head down in his hands sobbing for all he was worth...again, not a threat or even really important as far as I was concerned. My main focus was on the source of the anger standing next to Joe with what might have been a comforting hand on Joe's shoulder. But my instincts screamed threat! so loud I had to listen. He was about 5'11, with black hair, beaky nose, and square chin. The kind of face that said mobster, especially with the sunglasses covering his eyes, and the gray pinstripe Armani suite. Defiantly trouble.
"Who are you, and what the hell do you want?" I glared across the room at where his eyes would be behind the glasses and resisted the urge to growl. Never pays to act the animal with people you want to get an upper hand on. He froze for a moment staring at me, shock lacing through the anger that still poured off of him. Then he smiled in a way that I was sure he practiced just to win over jury's or get people to sell him their souls cheap.
"Hello, James, my name is John Thompson. I am the attorney responsible for your mother's estate." Hum, anger spike on `mother's'. "It pains me to inform you that your mother Sarah passed away early last month." Wow, honest to god grief there, he must have known her. "Although your mother did remarry she never changed her will from her first marriage, so most of her estate will pass to you on your 18th birthday." Ok, back to anger. A whole lot o' anger. Which made me wonder, and...Yup. Wedding band on his left hand. Shit this stuck up ass is who she married? I knew when she married again because the bitch sent an invitation to Joe just before it happened. (God I want him to leave.)
"Great. Just fan-fucking-tastic she died, I get some money. Now why are you here?" His posture went so ridgid I'm surprised he didn't make a snapping sound.
"As I said, I represent her estate. And you would do well to speak with some respect for the dead." He walked forward as he spoke, stopping just a foot from me, like he wanted to intimidate me with how tall he was. (Sorry Sir. Stick-In-The-Mud, but you don't compete with an angry drunk Joe.)
"Respect is earned in life, not given in death." He got even madder, if that was at all possible, his face and neck turning red. I didn't care; I wanted him gone. "Now, unless there is an actual purpose for you being in my house, beyond being annoying, I suggest you leave."
"Of course there is a purpose! Estates aren't just handed over! You need to present documentation, confirm your identity and then sign the papers which have to be notarized and witnessed!" He was inches from me now, shouting in my face, just a little closer and I could flip him out the door. Which is, predictably, when Joe decided to contribute to the conversation.
"Sarah! My Sarah!" Sir. Stick-In-The-Mud and I both turned towards him startled. I think we both forgot he was present. "Why, Sarah? Why did you leave? Sarah!" Suddenly I knew how Po felt all the time. I wanted to smash things and rage in his uncontrolled fashion. I could not handle this now. I was barely keeping myself together, how was I going to manage him?
What a strange dream. Joe was looking at me. He said my name, which I hate who wants to be a James? But that didn't make sense. He hasn't looked at me since she left, or even spoken to me, hell, I thought he forgot my name, or that I even existed. The next thing I knew I was floating in something soft and warm and blue. It smelled like cloves and sunlight. Wonder what was happening?
"James? James, can you hear me?" His voice was like the smell warm and inviting. I opened my eyes and looked up into the face of a blue gorilla with gold eyes. (Well, that's not something you see every day.) I took a deep breath, he was the source of the clove and sunshine smell in my dream. And chemical. Very chemical. Maybe a dr.? They always smelled like chemicals. And...Sex? My eyes opened wider, taking in his white button down, brown suite jacket and yellow bow tie. Did monkeys wear bow ties? Another deep breath and I knew that the woman he had sex with sometime in the last 12 hours was a chain smoker, who favored a lemon scented body soap, and I knew it wasn't a dream. As I stared, his scent took a turn from concerned to flat out worried. Poor dear was scared for me. I decide to help him out there.
"Not to be rude or anything, doc. But uh, why are you hovering over me?" He let out the breath he had been holding and relaxed some, more gold coming into his eyes as he did. "And did you know that you have pretty eyes? Well you probably do. I mean you just had sex and that is the sort of thing that people say to you when they want to have sex with you isn't it? I wouldn't really know for sure I've never had sex. Why am I talking so much?" With some effort, I paused my ramble there. I only meant to ask the first question where had the rest come from?
"How do you know about-"He stopped and turned bluer, embarrassed heat adding to his scent.
"Ahhh! You're blushing! That is so cute! Anyway I can smell her on you. Now answer my question, please. Wait...Questions. I asked more than one right?" His scent flooded with amusement, and I could see the laughter in his eyes.
"Well now, let's see. I am hovering because you took a rather nasty fall and fractured part of your skull. You're the first one to tell me that I have pretty eyes. I'm not sure if there is a set of rules for what people say to each other before sex. And you're talking this much because I gave you some morphine for the pain. That answer everything?" How did he laugh and talk at the same time?
"Morphine? That's a new one." I sat up with doc trying to stop me, worry coming back into his scent. "Oh don't worry your pretty blue head, doc. I'm a very fast healer. Hell the urge to ramble is even fading so the drugs must be wearing off, too. And for your information, I think I broke my neck not my skull, which is the only expiation for why I fainted. The bigger the injury the harder it is to heal and the more I sleep." I smiled at his open mouthed stare. "Broke my head a couple of months ago when some fool horse threw me. Now where is the ass-hat who punched me? Sir. Stick-In-The-Mud and I, need to have a talk." I focused on my hearing, noticing the voices outside I went to get up when I felt the couch shaking. Looking down I saw the doc hunched up and shacking violently. "What's up, doc?" I know. I know. But I couldn't resist.
"Hahahahahahaha!" His head went back, mouth wide, displaying formidable k-9s, as he roared with laughter. The smell of joy coming off him distracted my slightly impaired brain from my homicidal rampage plan. "Sir. Stick-In-The-Mud! It's so perfect for him! Hahahaahhaha!"
"Well, I'm glad someone agrees." He laughed harder and I decided that I liked the man. "Oh and my name is Slone, not James. Nice to meet ya, doc." He stopped laughing and whipped some tears from his eyes.
"Hank. Dr. Hank McCoy. It is indeed a pleasure, Slone." Hank and I shook hands as the door opened. In walked a man about 6' tall with reddish brown hair, wearing some kinda black leather jumpsuit. He also had a visor type thing over his eyes that reminded me of terminator.
"Uh oh doc. The cyborgs are invading!" I whispered, which sent Hank back into peals of laughter. I think the man in the door knew I said something about him, because his scent told me he was pissed. Well it did under his seemingly normal level of narcissism and righteous indignation. And yes that has a smell, too. It's like shit, only not as sweet. OK, fine, there is no righteous indignation smell! But there totally should be it would be easier to avoid those people then. Past him, through the door, I could smell an older, weaker, man, two women, Joe, and the ass-hat.
"My name is Scott summers. I am one of the X-men." I stared blankly wondering if that was supposed to mean anything in English. "My code name is Cyclops, perhaps you've heard of me?" Yup he's a narcissist.
"Wow." He puffed up a bit, a cock preening for hens. (Ah pride. How I've missed you're sickly sweet scent!) "You really don't have any idea what code names are for do you?" (And we're back to anger. Much better.) I said the next part slowly, like he was especially stupid. "If you have a code name, you don't use your real name first. You got that, Scotty Boy?" (Ooh rage! So much fun to poke the bears!)
"You will address me as Mr. Summers, Cyclops or not at all! Is that understood?" Ha! This dipshit actually thought that would work? I contemplated physically kicking him out the door, but Hanks hand on my knee stopped me.
"Slone, don't be mean to Scott, he's having a hard day." Hank tried to sound serious but I could still smell his amusement. Something tells me that he likes seeing the cyborg knocked down a peg or two.
"Hey now, doc. He is not the one whose birthday was ruined by people dying, on top of getting their neck broken by some stuck up lawyer! So if you want to coddle him that's up to you but I am done with arrogant assholes for today." I patted his shoulder as I moved past him so Hank would know that I wasn't mad at him. Then pushed my way past the cyborg who seemed struck momentarily dumb by what I had said.
Outside, Joe was talking to a bald man in a wheel chair, which explained the wounded deer like smell from earlier. The man was saying something about my mutation to my horrified father. (Boy that's going to be fun later.) He was flanked by the women, who were both in terminator outfits of their own, one with red hair and green eyes at 5'9" or 10". The other had spiky white hair and brown eyes with mocha colored skin. Red smelled a bit like ash or overdone meat under the buckets of acid perfume she wore, what is it with the prom queen types and perfumes? Spiky on the other hand smelled like the ozone after a good lightning storm, and rain clouds. Wheels there smelled something like oak, and old papers under the musk of dominate male. Who would have guessed the weakest to be the leader? But none of them were paying attenchion to me, and the only one who was a potential threat was Jo, not hard to handle. Assessment done I turned away from the group and looked for Sir. Stick-In-The-Mud. Seems to me that I owed that man a punch.
He was leaning against the hood of his car in a pouty way which made me think of a child who has had their candy taken from them. (Perfect.) I walked quickly and quietly up to him while he was focused on wheels and co, then tapped him on the shoulder.
"What?" He said irritation lacing through the anger that still washed over him. Gee, did the guy never relax. When he realised who was standing in front of him, he froze shocked. "How..." He trailed off.
"I understand that you seem to have some lingering affection for the bitch that whelped me," his face contorted back to the rage mask that I remembered. "but," I grabbed his jacket and shirt with both hands, bracing my legs, and let go of my rage. This time I felt the fires spreading through my hair, and let them, liking the fear I saw in his face. "you had no fucking right to touch me!" I shifted and flexed my arms releasing his jacket at the peak of my trough and watched him sail over the hood of his car to smack into the ground in the middle of my yard. Satisfied, I walked over and crouched by his head. "Now are you going to bother me again?" He wheezed and shook his head, all fear now that I had shown myself to be stronger. "Good." I stood and started to walk away, back towards the house, when I felt a kind of pressure in my head.
"James, you need to calm down." It was the man in the chair. I spun to face him, scenting something new from him. Metallic and cold the scent seemed to stretch across the grass towards me growing stronger the more he focused. "It's all right now, James just calm down." (He's using power! The bastard is trying to get inside my head!) My rage grew suddenly another door inside my mind opening, it felt very much like when I pushed my emotions out towards an animal, and I began to make a plan to keep him out. After all if my powers were locked behind doors most of the time, then it would mean that my mind was something like a house. No, a castle. After all, castles have outer walls, and moats. So I closed my eyes and pictured a castle with only one open door, through which the fire poured out. I pulled the fire out further, dragged it around my castle making a circle, and then sent it up and down until I had a perfect sphere around my castle. Mentally I fanned those flames until they burned a white hot. "AAAHHHH!" His shout broke my concentration and I opened my eyes to look at him. But the fire in my mind didn't go out. I could still feel it, separate form me, but a part of me all the same. (Hummm...That worked out rather well.) He was panting and holding his head with both hands, pain and shock mingling in his scent, but not high enough to make me think he was seriously injured. I was about to tell him that, that is what he got for meddling in people's minds without permission, when a searing pain hit my shoulder hard enough to spin me around.
Cyborg was standing in the doorway, one hand on his visor and I didn't hesitate. Hell I don't think I could have stopped if I wanted to. He was a threat and I needed to protect myself. Moving in a duck and weave pattern to confuse him, I raced up to the door and snapped out my hand, palm open, I punched him in the throat. Now he had to work on breathing before he could hurt me again. One of the women moved behind me and I whirled, survival instincts in full swing, I crouched low and snarled like some kind of large cat, prepared to attack or run as needed.
"Scott!" It was Red coming at me. Spiky had stayed by wheels in a protective sort of way, though truly she didn't seem all that concerned. On the other hand, Red was just as pissed as Cyborg had been before I gave him something else to think about. I could hear Hank approaching behind me, and shifted blocking the door. Running was no longer an option. Someone had to protect the fuzz ball from the lunatics on my lawn. I growled again as Red came closer warning her to stay back.
"Stop it Gean!" Hank said. "Stop this right now! Or I will end it!" Humph! He didn't know it, but he wasn't going anywhere!
"He attacked the professor and Thompson and Scott! He's dangerous, Beast, we need to subdue him!" Her shrieking hurt my ears.
"Nonsenses! Slone had done nothing but protect himself! He repelled a strange mutant from his mind, and protected himself from two larger males who both attacked him first! Now if you all are done being idiots, I would like to check on my patient. Or did you forget why we are here?" Blushing at the scolding Hank gave her, Red moved back some, smelling like humiliation and rage. (Just one of those days I guess.) "Now, Slone, I would like you to stand up so I can take another look at your head, ok?" I took several deep breaths before I straitened and nodded consent.
After a brief exam he decided I was indeed healed from my earlier accident, and that my shoulder was almost completely healed, too. At which point he bent down over the still gasping cyborg that I had been ignoring.
"Just so you know, doc, if cyborg there tries anything funny again, I will break his face." Hank chuckled and shook his head as he looked at the man's throat.
"Somehow, Slone, I don't doubt that you could if you wanted to." He looked up at me and I shrugged.
"I have a black belt in Tai Chie. I hold the record for fastest time to achieve one, too. It only took me 5 years to the standard 12." Hank stared a moment longer before shaking his head again and standing.
"Well, you certainly knew what you were doing to Scott. I don't think there will be any lasting damage, but he defiantly would not have been able to attack for at least another few minutes." He looked over at Sir. Stick-In-The-Mud, then, who was just now pulling himself off the grass, wheezing from having the wind knocked out of him. Hank turned back to me and raised a brow in question. I grinned showing off my own incisors.
"Don't worry, doc. I promise I didn't break him." Hank laughed again.
"How is this possible?" Joe's shouting drew mine and Hank's attention then. "The X-gene passes through the male line! Sarah had me tested and I don't have it!" Oh my god, was my father the iron worker back with us? "My son can't be a mutant!" He stopped a look crossing his face. "Unless..." Our eyes met. I couldn't breathe. "No. It can't be!"
"Dad?" I stepped towards him. "Dad what's wrong?" He started to smile. (Shit)
"You're not my son." I froze. "You're not my son!" he laughed "I knew she cheated, but I never imagined! HAHA! You know what, Professor? Take him! I never even wanted a child in the first place, so now he is all yours!" (Professor? She left me for him?) I looked over at the old man and felt something like shock. I suddenly remembered who the X-men were, and why I had vowed to never have anything to do with them. Fate really is strange, isn't it? Joe walked past me and Hank, heading into the trailer. "I'll give you one hour to get your shit out of my house before I call the cops." And then he was gone. Back into his room, I could hear the bottles clinking already. I took a moment and looked up at the sky.
"You fucking suck." I could feel Hank's sorrow behind me, but I didn't have time to comfort him just then. I looked over at the Professor. "Hey, wheels!" He looked up. "What was he saying about you taking me."
"Would you come down here a moment James and I'll explain." I rolled my eyes but moved over to him.
"Slone." He looked shocked. "I don't go by James. Honestly what kinda telepath can't even tell when a person doesn't like their own name?" Red stiffened behind him, while Spiky just looked amused. "So? What's this all about?"
"First, I would like to apologize for trying to enter your mind earlier. I thought you were losing control of your powers, and obviously I was wrong, but you could still use some work in fine tuning your control." My gaze followed his down to my ruined sweeter. (Damn!) "I would like to extend to you an offer to join my school for gifted youngsters like yourself. Where we can teach you exactly what you need to know about those gifts of yours." He smiled then in a shy kinda way, like he expected me to refuse, and I would have, but-
"You know, if anyone else had made that offer after basically trying to mind rape me, I would have ripped their throats out." He blanched and Red moved closer to him. "But you actually are feeling guilty about the whole thing, so I may just take you up on that."
"How can you justify reading people's emotions when you call what the professor did rape?" The question came in Spiky's musical voice, but despite the phrasing she was only curious.
"Because I'm not reading them. I can smell them." They all looked at me like I had grown a second head, then.
"Really?" Hank's voice boomed a little in the open space, the way a truly deep voice can, as he jogged over. "Can you smell all emotions or just some? And dose the scent change between people or gender? How do-"
"WO there doc!" I interrupted. "I can only answer so many questions at a time. Yes, I can smell them all, even curiosity, which you are smothered in by the way. And the scent doesn't change between people, gender or even species. Anger for example will smell the same on my horse Po as it does now pooling around Red over there. It's not like the emotion changes just because the species feeling it did." Hank's eyes lit up like those kids I've seen at Christmas. "You know you really are adorable." He laughed. "I mean it; your like this big fuzzy ball of joy. It's a nice change from what I'm used to."
"Are you sure the drugs are out of your system?" He asked. I shrugged and made a sort-of gesture that got him laughing again. I turned back to the Professor then.
"So, do you know of anywhere near your school where I can board my horse?" He assured me that I would be able to stable Pompeii in the school itself and then he, Red, Cyborg, and Sir. SITM got into the Mercedes and drove away leaving Hank and Spiky who they introduced as Ororo/ Storm, to help me pack up my things. Between the three of us, we got all my things together in no time. Not that I had that much stuff in the first place. One duffel of clothing, two boxes of movies and books, my bedding, and toiletries. My computer and school things were already in my bag so the only electronics I needed was my printer. When we all piled into my jeep Ororo still had plenty of room in the back seat to stretch out and get comfortable.
That's all for now, folks! I'll try and get the next chapter up as soon as I can. Questions, comments, concerns, or requests can be emailed to me at mrgood447 at gmail dot com
As always thanks for reading; I hope you enjoyed it!