Disclaimer: The characters and concepts utilised and referenced herein are the property of parties other than myself, including but possibly not limited to Marvel Entertainment and Fox. No attempt is being made to profit from the intellectual properties of the owners, nor is any attempt being made to usurp it.
Rating: Light PG for moral relativism, implied violence, and a couple of extremely mild swear words.
Summary: Two people go for a drink. That's all. No dancing, no screwing.
Notes: Written for Ion Bond in the Xmmficathon.
Magneto was brooding again. Or possibly plotting. It was hard to tell the two apart, at least when he wasn't speaking. Sooner or later he'd snap out of it, of course, and Mystique would find herself listening to either yet another rant about how Charles had to learn to understand the foolishness of his dream - which, frankly, was preaching to the choir - or a Byzantine scheme to bring mutant supremacy one step closer.
She could hardly wait.
"Want to go for a drink?" Toad asked her.
She looked at him in surprise. It was not that she was unaware of Toad's need to regularly imbibe liquids in order to prevent dehydration and eventual death - a need shared by herself, and by Magneto, and probably also by Sabretooth, although she was working a theory that he mostly only ate and drank because he was able to do so in such an obnoxious manner - but so far as she knew their Secret Lair had an extremely well-stocked kitchen.
"A drink?"
"Yep. Drink. As in, alcohol. Find some dimly-lit bar, knock a few back, bitch about work. You know, act like the common people do for a while."
"Like humans."
"Why not? We think a lot like them." Toad wasn't normally this friendly, or this insistent on forcing his presence upon her. It must be the lightning, she decided. Storm's powers had fried his brain, and he had changed as a result.
Still, it wasn't an entirely bad thing. She was bored, and it was a long time since she had last been drunk.
"Where?" She asked.
"Steal the helicopter, go to New York. There's places there will serve anyone." And Toad grinned, a sardonic, lop-sided, British-toothed grin.
Nobody could ever have accused Mystique of being indecisive.
"Okay, that's two Beck's." She placed their drinks on the table as she slid into the booth. Toad looked up from under his broad-brimmed hat and smirked his thanks before reaching for his drink. "So now we bitch about work?"
"Not immediately. You have to lead up to it, talk about other stuff, let it flow. Haven't you ever been out for a drink with colleagues before?"
"That would... you have?"
"Yep."
"You mean Sabretooth? Or a real job, with normals?"
"Real job."
"Someone hired you?"
"Hey, I'm from England, remember? Green skin and warts are practically normal around there, least in some parts of the country. So long as I keep my trap shut I can blend in easy."
Mystique arced an eyebrow. They were black, as of this moment, exquisitely tweezered and finely shaped. It was a good effect. She'd checked it carefully in front of a mirror when she first tried out this look.
"Okay, I'm kidding. But there's people everywhere who don't care where you come from." Toad leaned back, and drained half his beer in a single pull. "Some of them will even let you hang around after hours if you don't draw attention to it."
"You want to spend more time with the people you work with?" There must be something behind this sudden loquaciousness. Apart from the fresh-fried brain, that is.
"I talked you into this, didn't I? Besides, it's not the same when you don't all live together. If you can call that living."
"Magneto provides for our every need."
"Yep. Have I showed you the Naked Supermodel dispenser he installed in my room?"
"Perhaps I exaggerated. But find better free accommodation."
"Complete with unpaid job."
"Full access to the petty cash. Which in Erik's case runs to millions."
"You called him Erik."
Mystique paused. Toad was wearing that insufferable smirk, and she spent a happy moment envisioning various scenarios in which she wiped it off his face. Hard. But unfortunately this dream came up against the problem that she really wasn't sure she could beat him in a stand-up fight, and besides, they would draw attention to themselves. Really not a good idea.
And he was right. She had called him Erik. Somewhat grudgingly, she admitted it.
Toad simply nodded.
"I'm not saying it's a bad life."
"But you do think of it as a job?"
"How do you think of murdering policemen?"
"It's not murder," she began, her justification ready, but he waved it aside with an idle gesture.
"Sneaking up on people and killing them in order to further our cause. We're terrorists, right?"
He was right. Except that that was the wrong word.
"Not quite. We're political campaigners who are prepared to use force."
"Sediment," he said dismissively.
"You mean semantics?"
"Whichever. Look, the point is, I either think of it as a job that needs doing, or I think of it as a hobby that needs to be enjoyed."
"So you don't enjoy killing?"
"Oh, I wouldn't say that. I mean, if there wasn't any job satisfaction, I'd quit. Go join up with the bald bloke's crowd."
"I think they like their freaks a little more normal-looking than us."
"You're telling me the weather bitch is normal?"
"White hair, compared to primary coloured skin?"
"Green isn't a primary. Is it?"
"It doesn't matter. You enjoy your job?"
"Most of the time. I mean, I'm not crazy like Creed, but - well, they're only human."
"And when we fought Xavier's people?"
"They were trying to stop us. Greater good, and all that. And if there's a rematch - well, I owe Munroe."
Mystique nodded. Erik - Magneto - had occasionally expressed concerns about Toad's loyalty. Not recently; he seemed satisfied of late, and apparently this confidence was justified.
"You did try to kill her first."
"Yeah, that's right. She came to Liberty Island to ask me on a date." The smirk again, and this time she found herself smirking along with it. "Still, she fills out the uniform nicely."
"They all do."
"I guess you're right. So, you and Wolverine?"
She looked up. What did he know? What had he guessed?
"You think you could take him in a rematch?"
Okay, that was comfortable.
"Probably. He sucker-punched me."
"And do you want to?"
She didn't answer that one, and after a moment Toad moved on.
"Anyway, they both did a number on Sabretooth. You reckon he's going to try and call dibs?"
"Sabretooth? He already hates everybody. Well, except Magneto."
Toad nodded, then hit her out of left field.
"Does he let you call him Erik?"
He was watching her reaction, and she could tell that she wasn't going to be able to dodge this question. She considered lying a moment, but then decided it wouldn't do any good.
"He used to. Before all this."
"Back when he and Charlie were mates?"
"And for a while after." She paused. "They still are, in a way."
"Except for the occasionally trying to kill each other part."
"True. But there's... something there."
"You reckon they shagged?"
"I don't speculate." She didn't need to.
"Okay. Best-case scenario, we beat the pretty gang, Storm becomes my personal love slave, you get to keep Wolverine chained up in the cellar as a toy, baldy comes round to Magneto's viewpoint, humans accept us as their overlords... what would you do then?"
"Go to Disneyland." She smiled. Toad, much to her surprise, smiled back. She had never seen him smile before - really smile, not just smirk mockingly or grin to show his amusement and his teeth. There was a surprising amount of warmth and good humour there.
"Sounds like a plan," he said, "mind if I tag along?"
"I suppose so. But you have to buy me hot dogs. Oh, and you'll be too short to go on any of the serious rides."
"I'm not that short."
"You wouldn't be if you stood upright."
"Ah, anyone tries to stop me I can always just kill them."
"Just like that?"
"We're ruling the world, remember?"
"Yes. And that means we'll have made laws."
"And we won't be allowed to kill humans?"
"Equality arises from justice." It was something Erik had said to her a couple of times in the past.
"Right. But you can't have the same laws for mutants and humans."
"Robert Kelly would have agreed with you."
"I don't mean like that. Hang on, you're not seriously suggesting we conquer the world and then just give it back?"
"We make laws to protect mutants. We make laws to protect humans. Both species are bound by these laws. Equally."
Toad's smile was gone, and she decided to move the conversation back on track.
"So, we've done Disneyland. You've cried mutant prejudice and got on all the good rides. Your turn. Where do we go next?"
"Brazil. The topless beaches."
"I thought you had Storm as a personal love slave?" She couldn't hide her amusement.
"Eh, I'd get bored of her. Hey, can I call mutant prejudice if a hot woman rejects me?"
"You could try. We've moved a long way from bitching about work."
"That's the glory of it. My round, right?" Toad got up and headed for the bar. Mystique leaned back in the booth and, after a moment, glanced around the room again. Then, very deliberately, she moved around the table to sit facing the entrance.
After a minute or so Toad returned carrying their drinks, glanced at her in puzzlement, and then slid into the seat opposite her.
"What's up?" he asked.
"Don't turn around."
"Got it. How many and who?"
"Three. Xavier's. I see Wolverine, Cyclops and Storm."
"They left the blue guy behind?"
"I guess he wasn't comfortable, even in a place like this."
"Right." Toad sounded sceptical. But then, he had little reason to trust their enemies, or their motives. He paused, and then his face shifted into its usual smirk.
"Hey. How long is it since you got into a good, old-fashioned, brawl?"
"Toad, that is not a good idea."
"Isn't it?"
And it was eight minutes later, Mystique had reverted to her real form, Toad was missing his hat, and they were both crouched on a rooftop, listening to the sirens.
"Admit it," Toad said, "that was fun."
Mystique's side hurt. She prodded it gingerly, and then winced. "I think he cracked a rib."
"Yeah, but look what you did to him. Healing factor or no, he's going to be pissing blood a few days. If he's lucky."
"True." She allowed herself to smile. "He was holding back, though."
"Yeah. No claws."
"Punching soft."
"One-eye wasn't. Who knew he could hit like that?"
"You wouldn't have thought he needed to, with his eyes."
"He wasn't using them, either. I should have just nicked his specs again."
"And that would have turned into a real battle."
"Yeah, instead of him just punching me in the throat. If it wasn't for the tongue pocket, I'd probably be in dire need of a tracheotomy right now."
"I'm sure Wolverine would have been happy to provide."
"Yeah? I think he's more interested in jabbing you than me."
"I admit it," she responded, just to watch his head snap round so fast he nearly whipped himself with his tongue. "That was fun."
"So, you and Wolverine. If you're after that kind of rough trade, why not just nail Sabretooth?"
"Because Creed likes being a vicious animal, and Logan is trying to be something more."
"And that's what counts in your book?"
"We are mutants, Mortimer. Evolution has made us better than humans. We should try to act that way."
"You never called me that before."
I never addressed you as a person, rather than a member of the Brotherhood, before, she did not say.
"Does it matter? It is not enough for us to be better than them."
"And acting the way we should includes killing a crap load of people every time we're let out?"
"We didn't kill anyone tonight."
"Yeah. I could have, you know. Grabbed Storm, broken her neck, something like that. She doesn't know how to fight. Not for real."
"So why didn't you?"
"Still holding out for her becoming my personal love slave."
She laughed out loud, gentle, joyous, and without malice. There was no malice in her next question, either.
"Seriously, Toad, when was the last time you got laid?"
"Why? You offering?"
"I have too many other commitments. Sorry."
"Erik getting territorial?"
"Magneto has no say. I make my own decisions, and I've decided not to sleep with people I go into combat with."
"Yeah, but you only decided that after seeing me and Sabretooth."
"Actually, it was Pyro really clinched the deal. I needed to have a hard rule that would stop me from ever having sex with anyone that irritating."
"He's not that bad."
"He hasn't stopped gawking yet."
"Oh, yeah, one of the three or four hottest women on the planet is walking around naked and the teenaged boy is supposed to be cool with it? C'mon, Raven, be reasonable."
"Three or four? Who do I have to kill?"
"I wasn't joking."
"... No, you really weren't."
"Ah... screw it. We should probably get back before the boss gets really pissed off."
He stood up, then held out his arm. She stepped into his embrace, and he leaped for the next rooftop over. They didn't speak again until they got back to the helicopter.
"Mortimer."
"Mystique." He seemed embarrassed.
"Thank you. I... had fun tonight. And thank you for everything else."
"Me too." He started the takeoff checklist for the helicopter, devoting his attention to the switches and readouts.