An Unlikely Story
by
Alex SisterWolf
Disclaimer: All characters belonging to Marvel Comics are used without permission, but with no intent of copyright infringement, and no profit is being gained from this work.
Archive: With permission
Warnings: Rampant innuendo
The door opened. The lone inhabitant of the room glanced up at the newcomer, then back at the T.V. "They at it again."
"What? No way. I thought by the time I got back they'd be done."
Growls and thumping noises echoed from upstairs.
"They were. They start up again 'bout twen'y minutes ago."
"Ah, man, this sucks. Turn up the T.V."
"It don't help."
The ceiling shuddered slightly and dust sifted down.
"Whaddaya think, twenty more minutes, maybe?"
"Could be ten, could be thi'ty. They went an hour las' night."
A bellowing roar drowned out the noise of the television.
The door opened. "What is that infernal racket? Cannot a mutant procure sugary viands without being deafened by the sounds of wild animals?"
"They at it 'gain."
"Not again."
"Third time today."
A heavy sigh. "The disadvantage of having housemates with enhanced physiques."
"Stamina."
A high-pitched yowl stopped conversation for a moment.
"Which one of them do you think that was?"
The door opened. "Ah don't know, but ah am gonna kill both'a them if they keep this up much longah."
"I t'ink we got five, mebbe ten minutes to go, cherie."
"Ah say we tell 'em to take it outside. This is ridiculous! Ah can't sleep through this!"
"If I may be so bold as to interrupt you, Rogue, would you be so kind as to open the door for a moment? Thank you. Please direct your attention to the distinct lack of noise from the upper regions of the house."
"Well Ah'll be"
"Do you think they're done?"
"Mebbe"
A series of thumping noises from the back stairs, then a very disheveled man appeared, followed by a woman wearing a bathrobe. They stopped at the bottom of the stairs, seeing the crowd gathered in the T.V. room staring at them.
"I'm sorry, were we making too much noise?" the woman asked innocently.
"We do have noise ordinances in place in this establishment."
"What the walking dictionary was saying is, yeah, you were."
"Nex' time you feel in de mood for love, how 'bout you go explore de woods?"
"Yeah, sugah, there's a nice li'l meadow 'bout half a mile in."
"What? Oh, you thought we were screwing." The dark-haired woman giggled. "No, we were just having a tickle fight."
The rumpled-looking man finally spoke. "Come on, darlin', there's a steak with my name on it in there."
"There's always a steak with your name on it in there." As he began to tow her by her bathrobe belt towards the kitchen, she called back to them, "I really am sorry about the noise!"
A pregnant pause. Finally, "Tickle fight. Yeah, right."
"I find the odds against that proposition to be inordinately high."
"Ah agree. Ah don't believe it!"
"You never know, cherie. Love do strange t'ings to people."
Silence reigned in the T.V. room as the members of the X-Men tried to comprehend the concept of Wolverine, dangerous, quick-tempered, razor-clawed, and in general just downright grouchy, engaging in a good old-fashioned tickle fight.
"Love do strange t'ings indeed."
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