Other People's Sandboxes

Fandom: Lackey's Valdemar/X-Men crossover
Characters: Tarma, Keth, Warrl & Logan
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The creature lay unmoving in the small clearing in the stand of trees. It was fortunate it was not winter, or Tarma would have worried about it (him?) freezing to death. But as it was late spring, predators - four legged and two - were the biggest concern.

"Changechild?" she quietly asked her partner.

"Hmm," Kethry replied, a frown marring her normally cheerful face. "I would say yes - there is something decidedly animalistic about this one - but there is no trace of magic at all."

"None at all? Strange, this close to the Peligars."

:None, Mindmate,: Warrl confirmed. :It is as if he has never been exposed to magic. At least not as we know it.:

The creature moaned, cutting off further discussion. With silent hand signals, Tarma sent Kethry and Warrl out of sight. Tarma leaned against a tree and waited for the creature to awaken.

The creature groaned again and half propped himself up on his elbows. "Ugh, did anyone catch the number of the truck that just ran me over?" he asked, shaking his head as if trying to clear it.

Tarma was mildly surprised that she could understand him, but replied in the same common trade tongue. "I know not of what you speak, stranger, but if you are in need of assistance, I shall provide what I can."

Faster than Tarma could believe, she found herself pinned against the tree by three wicked-looking daggers, one on either side of her neck, one just barely touching her throat. She blinked once, her only sign of surprise. Then in another heartbeat, Tarma's own dagger was at the stranger's throat.

"See, I can do that too," she said coldly. "Although mine are not attached. Tell me, do you find it to be a great advantage, having your daggers embedded into your hand?"

With a snort that Tarma suspected was a sign of amusement, the stranger stepped back, and she watched in fascination as the blades retreated into his hand and the cuts rapidly healed.

"Occasionally," he replied. "Sure beats having them out of reach when I need them. Does make them tough to throw, though."

The corner of Tarma's mouth twitched. "Shall we try introductions again, this time without the edged weaponry? I am Tarma shena Tale'sedrin, Swordsworn of the Warrior. Not that I expect that to mean anything to you."

"Huh. Name's Logan. And you're right, it doesn't mean anything to me. Why don't you ask the other two to come out here so we can all be properly introduced."

"I'm impressed, Mr. Logan," Kethry said, stepping back into the clearing. "Most people would not have detected our presence. I am called Kethry."

"'m not most people," Logan replied with a shrug, eying the mage with faint curiosity.

:No, you are not, warrior,: Warrl said, appearing at Tarma's side. :I am known as Warrl.:

To his credit, Logan seemed to be barely phased by the kyree. He merely gave Warrl a hard look and then muttered "Great, another damned telepath," mostly under his breath.

"I am impressed, sir," Tarma said with a chuckle. "Most people react to our strange little group much more than you have."

Logan gave her another long, considering stare. "One of my fr- someone I know is 6 feet tall, weighs 400 pounds and is covered in bright blue fur. Another can shoot lasers out of his eyes," he finally said in an off-hand manner. "My definition of 'weird' ain't what most peoples is." He paused and looked around. "So you wanna tell me where the hell 'here' is and how I got here?"

After a quick glance at Keth and a brief mind-touch with Warrl, Tarma smiled. "If you will come back to our camp with us, we will see about answering all of your questions. I suspect that for every one we answer, it will generate three more."

"Isn't that how it always works?" Logan asked sourly. "Lead on, then, warrior."

Title: Almost (The Beloved Enemy Remix)
Characters or pairing: Scott (implied Scott/Jean, hints of Charles/Erik)
Rating: PG
Original Fic: Closer, by penknife
Written for: Round 6 of remixthedrabble
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Sometimes, Scott wishes Magneto were around. Almost.

It’s just that he’s started to lose where he ends and Jean begins. They make love, and his desires become hers and hers become his and it all swirls together into this amalgam of them.

“You know I love you,” she had said. And then she ran off to the Professor because he understands her. He understands what it’s like to be a telepath and in love. But no one understands Scott.

Which brings him right back to wishing that Magneto were around because then he’d have someone to understand him too. Almost.