Author: Batman_Wolverine
Disclaimer: Don't own any of the x-men character in any of the different Marvel universes (Cartoon, Comic or Movie). All owned and copyrighted by Marvel Comics.

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Once upon a time, (a clichéd but still evergreen way to start a story)….

Well, anyways….

…Once upon a time, there was a girl. A sweet little girl, she lived with her mommy and her daddy in their small but cozy house in the middle of the most peaceful place on earth. As with any sweet little girl of her age, this girl too loved dressing in pink flowery dresses and playing mock house and tea parties with her dolls and toy kitchen set. She was so sweet that everyone around her loved her and she was the best friend of all the children in the area.

Too bad this story is not about that sweet little girl.

----

“Stay still child,” a pair of hair pins sticking out of her lips, a handful of half braided soft silky fresh snow colored hair twisted around her fingers, the young ebony skinned mother yanked her precocious progeny towards her and away from the back clunky plastic gadget lying on the cheap but sturdy wood and glass table not five feet away from them. “Your father is waiting for you.” She instructed with a molasses smooth but heavily accented voice her fingers resuming their swift and coordinated actions. “So stop jumping around and let me braid your hair.”

“Ugh.” Not one to stay silent for long, the young girl, although electing to stay still gave a vocal display of her displeasure, deliberately contorting her face into winces and scrunches as she ughed and hmphed in tune with her mother’s soft pulls. “Why do I have to go?” She cried out, twisting her head as her mother finishing one half reached for the remaining hair. “And why do I have to wear this…this…this dress.” She, not for the first time, pulled down at the lacy red and pink dress that she had on. “Why can’t I stay home and watch the TV.” Her bright blue eyes seemed to light up even more as she turned back towards the rather bulky looking wood, glass and metal box placed against the far side of the room. Ever since her father had bought it five months back, it had been something that she never seemed to grow tired of and on more than one occasion, she would sit alongside and try to imitate the various people appearing on it. In fact, she had even commandeered a sizeable cardboard box and placing it on a side table had made a make shift TV of her own, one that played her very own TV show, which her doting father had loving named as The Ororo Monroe Show.

“Because your father is going to take you to where he works,” N’dare rote repeated the words that she had spoken more times in the last eighteen hours than she cared to count. The previous evening, her husband, Ororo’s father, David had come from work and told her that the boss had declared today to be a ‘bring your child’ to work day, whatever that meant. And in accordance with that, he had would also give the workers half of the day off. A native of Kenya, N’dare was still not conversant with the customs that people on this side of the world seemed to follow. A princess of her tribe, N’dare had come to America after meeting, falling in love with and choosing David Monroe to be her husband.

Although she missed her tribe and family, N’dare was more than happy with the life that she and David had created for themselves. And even though she might not be the Queen as she might have finally become had she continued to live in her matriarchal tribe, she was nevertheless the Queen of her household, of her domain, complete with her King and their very own princess….a princess who right now was starting to get on her nerves.

“Ready Princess?” David’s voice sounded from the kitchen his tall well built form stepping through the door the next instant and causing Ororo to still her tries to pull away from her mother and get a hand on the rather large and clunky TV remote. What compounded her disinterest at going out was that it was a Saturday, morning at that, meaning a time for the Superfriends cartoon and her favorite superhero, Wonder Woman. Ororo loved the way Wonder Woman never stepped back from a fight and kicked bu….uh, the word that she wasn’t supposed to say. ‘Just like me.’ Along with the cartoon, the other show she almost never missed was the live action Wonder Woman show that came in the evenings. The first time that she saw that one, Ororo was so taken by it she herself tried the whirl around and change clothes action…just to see if it worked in real life. However, instead of her clothes wonderfully changing all Ororo got was a serious case of vertigo and a lump on her forehead, courtesy of her bonk against the living room sofa.

Ororo prided herself at being just like the Amazon Princess…well, at least in the kicking bu…the word that she wasn’t supposed to say, side of things. There wasn’t one girl or boy of her age that had escaped her fists and her magic lasso…well, the three feet long piece of yellow nylon rope that N’dare had cut out for her….after her repeated non stop pleading...for five straight days.

“Pappa. Don’t wanna go.” Ororo ballooned her cheeks, jutting her lower lip out in a pout. It was her tried and tested, sure shot bull’s eye face. “Please papa. ’l miss Supa’freinds. Please. Please. Puleeeassseaa.”

“Sorry princess.” David grinned at his daughter’s mannerisms. Dressed as she was, with her hair all but done, she looked more like a doll than a six and a half year old girl…at least to his eyes. Then again, he was accustomed to seeing her in the shorts and pants that she usually wore. This dress, one of two good ones that Ororo had, had been bought from his first salary from his job as a die operator at the DWS (Detroit-Windsor Steel) Works, a place where he was a full foreman now. “’nyways, yor show comes tomorrow too. See it then?”

“But Daddddiee,” Ororo pleaded. “Today’s new one. T’morrow it’ll be old.” She pouted again, harrumphing at missing her favorite show. Truth was, she also knew that she would get to see the repeat of today’s show tomorrow, but like any other child, she wanted to get double viewing instead of just one.

“There. Done.” N’dare’s clap cut into the emotional blackmail that Ororo was hoping to lay out. “Show me.”

Turning around, Ororo put on an extra special sullen look, scrunching her nose to contort half of her chubby cheeked face out of symmetry.

“Don’t do that.” N’dare smoothed her cheeks. “It will get stuck like that.”
“No it won’t.” Ororo was quick to respond. “An’ if does then good. Won’t haveta go out.”

“Yeah, but then you won’t get to grow up to be beautiful like yor mamma,” David chuckled as he returned from the kitchen, a metal lunch case in one hand and a water bottle (for Ororo) in the other. “You wanna be like your mamma, don’ you?”
“Uhn,” the twin long silvery braids swayed slightly as the small head tilted as if in deep thought. “Umm, ‘k.”

“Good girl. Now kiss mamma bye and lets go. The bus comes in five minutes.”
“Oooh, bus ride,” cerulean eyes lit up again. “Hurry, hurry. We don’ wanna miss it.”

“Yeah, now she wants to go,” David chuckled as Ororo’s practically flew out of the room.

Bidding N’dare farewell, seconds later he too headed towards the elevator and impatient Ororo urging him to hurry up.

----

About three quarters of an hour later,

“Now don’t go running around,” David was instructing in a even but firm tone. “’specially not in there.” He gestured towards the huge warehouse like building about a hundred feet from then.

“’k.” Ororo nodded, pulling at the rather intricate and difficult to undo braiding that her mother had done. She did not understand why did she have to tie her at all. Why not just leave it open, especially in such a cool windy autumn day like this one. Moreover, if any other kid made any comment about the color of her hair, which was an almost given, she would get a free excuse to sock him or her….just as she had done to quite a few of the punters near her home.

“An’ no fightin’,” it was almost as if her pappa was able to hear what she was thinking. Maybe he could…just like the bald white man who had come to her school last month. ‘What was his name,’ Ororo wracked her brain. ‘Po…Por…Porefe….’

“Ororo?!”

“Huh. ‘k. No fightin’.” Ororo nodded quickly.

“Good girl.” The duo stopped as they reached a door. Usually the factory’s cafeteria, the one storey building had been turned into a play center for the smaller kids for the day. Of its six exits, only one was open today and that too had not one but two guards placed at it…so that none of the kids got out and lost his or herself. “Now go in. Your bag has your drawing books an’ colors…”
“An’ my W’nder Woman doll?” Ororo was quick to exclaim.
“An’ your Wonder Woman doll,” David patted her head and opened the door for her, nodding at the two men and the two lunch ladies on the other side.

Not even a foot inside and Ororo’s steps stilled at the large gathering inside.

“Pappa.” She drew back, looking up at her six foot plus father, her quivering lower lip and eyes conveying her apprehension.

“Hey. Come now,” David knelt to Ororo’s level, a protective arm draped over her shoulder. “Just fifteen minutes and then I’ll take you to show where I work. ‘kay?”

Daring another glance through the open door, Ororo gave a wary nod. “’kay.”

“Hey. Who’s a brave girl?” A gentle tickle under her chin and Ororo’s giggles rang out aloud.

“’m a brav’ girl. ‘m Ororo Monroe.”

“Good. Now go.”

This time when she entered, Ororo had her slim shoulders squared…almost as if going on a mission.

---

Some time later,

“Hey you.” Not getting a response from the solitary boy, Ororo threw her bag down on the table he was sitting at. “Hey!”

Starting at one end of the three hundred seating capacity cafeteria, Ororo soon made her way through the various groups which had formed all on their own. None of them appealed to her, not even the freaky clown that was putting up a show on one end of the hall. Looking for a place to set down her bag and water bottle, she stopped when at one end, away from all the other children, sat one single pale skinned boy. What was even more intriguing…not to mention odd was the way he was dressed. Even though Ororo herself had a sweater underneath her dress, not to mention her emergency full sleeved sweater in her bag, it was nothing compared to the polar trek garb that this boy had on. Along with thick pants, he also had a full jacket, the hood drawn up, with yet another cap peeking out from underneath it. Even his hands were covered up with woolen gloves.

‘Whatta weenie,’ thought Ororo, her feet finding themselves moving towards him.

“Hey.” The boy peeked out from underneath the heavy hood shading his face, his innocent eyes widening at the frown on Ororo’s face. “Sorry,” he apologized. Holding up his hands, and the GI Joes in them, as an explanation for his delayed response, he jerked his head to reveal more of his face. “Wanna play.”

“No way!” Ororo snapped at the strange boy, feeling sorry the next instant at the way he seemed to shrink into himself.

“’k.” Nodding slowly, the boy pulled his hood back, his face once again shrouded behind the mock fur front.

‘No fightin’.’ Her father’s warning echoing in her head, and feeling rather sorry for the way she had spoken to weenie, Ororo moved to the other side of the table, directly in front of the seemingly subdued boy. So intent was she making up for her actions and not causing any trouble for her pappa, that she did not even stop to think as to why none of the other children were sitting near this boy or why hadn’t he gone to play with the others.

“Hey.” She called out again, a little softer this time, watching intently as the boy warily lifted his head. “Sorry.”
“Sorry? For?”
“Yeah, sorry. For…for…sorry okay.”
“’k.” A near mute nod responded to her attempt at an apology.
“’k.” Thumping her bag down, she herself climbed onto the bench. “’m sittin’ here.” That was as close to a request as she was going to get.

“Whatcha playing?” She inquired as she settled down and flipped open her bag, reaching for her own doll.

Still in shock that someone was sitting on the same table as him, the boy mutely held out both of the action figures grasped in one hand, his free hand pushing forth a box containing more of them.

Leaning forward for a peek, Ororo tsked at the varied collection inside. GI Joe, Batman, Superman, Phantom, He-Man, and many others that she did not even know the names of, there was a lot of a them. But not the one that she looking for…and she was happy about that.

“You don’t have this one,” tilting her head up in pride, she set on the table, her foot tall Wonder Woman doll. Although not of the same quality as the boy’s dollies or as many, hers was the biggest one.

Even before the boy could respond, a rather pudgy woman cut into their conversation.

“Hey girl,” her voice boomed throughout the hall. “Get away from there.”

Frightened by the sudden intrusion, Ororo all but fell over the side, her doll slipping from her fingers.

“Go away. Don’t trouble the sweet child.” The salt n’ pepper hair woman cursed again. “Git.”

Not knowing what wrong had she committed exactly, Ororo understood enough to know that whatever it was, it had something….or everything to do with this boy.

Moving as fast as she could, her entire body shaking in fear, Ororo near about forgot her toy, only stopping when the boy pushed it towards her, along with a Batman and Superman figures of his. “Here. You can have these too. Make a…”

“I don’t want your things,” Ororo pushed the two toys away as she left the table. Slipping over the edge, both action figures hit the hard floor, Superman losing his head.

---

“Why’d you sit with him?” A boy sneered at Ororo as she hurried towards the door. “He’s a rich boy. Freak, always sick or something.”
“Hey, look at her hair,” another boy piped up. “Its white. Maybe she’s a freak too.”
“Yeah, she’s a freak.” A third youngster joined the first two. The three of them had just started chanting, ‘freak, freak, freak….’ When one of the previously closed doors was flung open, this time for a very special person.

Seeing her father accompanying the strange man, Ororo broke into a sprint, nearly barreling into David who got down just in time to catch her from slipping past him.
A flurry of tears and gesturing accompanied Ororo’s recounting of her story of how the fat lady had threatened her and how the others teased her about her hair.

Seeing the same woman fall in step with her and noticing that her father was walking towards the table where the boy who had got her scolded sat, she turned her face away, her slender arms tightening their grip.

“I am sorry Monroe,” Ororo’s ears perked up at the smooth cultured tone that the other man used. “What’s her name?”
“Ororo.” David answered as he gently tried to break Ororo’s hold around his neck.
“Sweet girl.” The man’s spoke again, his voice holding none of the anger that the old woman had had. “Come here son.”
“Yes sir.” The voice and a thump of small feet landing on tiles caused Ororo to tilt her head slightly and look down at the same boy with she had been sitting coming around the table towards her….well, towards his father.

“Ororo…Ororo.” The soft repeat of her name by the other man and a little forced help from her father and Ororo found herself looking at the young boy who had himself stepped behind his father, his gloved hands still holding the remains of his broken toy.

“Your name is Ororo?” The man, David’s boss and owner of the factory, John, deliberately softened his voice.
“Uhn-huh.” Wide eyed, her tears all but gone, Ororo nodded in response. “Ororo Monroe.” She stressed on her last name.

“That’s a very good name.” John returned with a smile. “This,” he drew out the boy to in front of him. “This is my son. Tell Ororo your name son.”

Craning his head to look up, first at his father and then at Ororo’s, the boy stepped forward and held out his hand to Ororo.

“’m James….James Howlett.”

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Note: Don’t know what I have going on here, only that although the characters will have their mutant powers, this fic won’t (most probably) have the X-Men as we know them. Will have a little bit of everything.

Also, working on next updates for both X-ed and Y&T. Both of them are either too complex or too angsty for getting out rapid updates.

Made some changes in this chapters (the ending)....due to a different/later subplot.

Please Review!!

Once upon a time, (here we go again)….

Hmm…

…Once upon a time, there was this little boy. A sweet little boy, he lived with his papa and mama, big brother and sweet Ol’ grandpa, in a large mansion on the top of the hill. His family although small, the house although huge, this little boy’s ‘home’ was full of love and caring. The light of his parents’ eyes, the one thing that little boy enjoyed the most, other than playing with and trying to imitate his older brother, and even more than the evening walks he used to have with his grandpa, and the stories of time past that the aging senior used to tell him, was…the safety of his mother’s embrace, and the lullabies she used to sing to him. This little boy, not only was he the happiest little boy in the whole wide world, he was also the healthiest one.

Unfortunately for little James Howlett, this boy we talk of, this happy healthy boy….this boy was not him.

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“Turn around,” the matronly voice commanded and the diminutive seven year old youngster stepped back to comply. A quick inspection, a couple of perfunctory tugs and once again the same voice spoke. “Good. Now turn back.”

“Now head up and listen carefully,” drawn up, little James, the younger son of the Howlett household, tilted his head making space for the woman dressing him to close the top button of his shirt and set about at fixing his tie. The woman in question, old lady Hopkins, wasn’t his mother…who was always seemingly too busy to spare time for her second born. Whatever little time that she managed to wean from her many social commitments, Elizabeth Howlett, James’ mother, devoted to the two Johns in her life, one being her husband and the other being her elder son, John Jr.. As far as James was concerned, his faltering health and the various problems that never seemed to leave the boy, had long ago caused her to give up on him and move on with her life. In fact, had it not been for his father’s attention and care, James might as well have been an orphan, only one with his parents still alive.

“Don’t run around excessively. Don’t eat or drink anything anyone other than me or your father gives you. Don’t talk to strangers. Sit only in a clean place. Don’t play too much. Don’t….”

The list of don’t continued as did the subtle nods and ‘umm-hmms,’ that James gave in return.

“There,” flipping the collar back down, Mrs. Hopkins pressed it down by running her hands over it. “Finished. Now all that is left is your cap, jacket, muffler and gloves. Or do you want to wear mittens?”

“Gloves.” The boy responded evenly, not finding it odd that even though it was a cool, at the most mildly cold autumn day, why had he to don so many warm clothes on. For him, it was a way of life, one that he had grown up with. The only time that he truly got to dress loose was during the hottest days of summers. But even then, only in the evenings, as the day sun and heat wasn’t at all helpful with his sensitive skin. And all this was without the allergies that never left his side.

----

Minutes later,

Rushing down the stairs leading to the lower levels and to the dining room where his father would be waiting for him, James’s steps stilled at the harsh sound of his grand father berating the wasteful actions of his son.

“…I’m telling you, John. You are making a mistake, listening to that Human Resources manager of yours. Money doesn’t grow on trees boy. Don’t go about squandering it.”

“Father.” John Howlett’s voice carried a forced restrain that he seldom used with anyone else other than his father. Not that he needed with anyone else than the elder Howlett. “I’m not you father. I have a different way of doing things….”

“Different? PAH!” The old man snapped at him, jerking his head away as an added affect. “You seem to forget who you are and who they are. They are our servants, not the other way around.”

It was a rant that John had heard it many times before. In fact, every time that his father made the trip, venturing away from the Howlett Estate in Alberta, it was the same rant, all over again.

“And what do you think you are doing taking in those muties?” This was a comparatively new one, the next one wasn’t. “First you not only give work to the colors and the natives, you also deem them intelligent enough to actually think for themselves, an’ more importantly fer you. And now this….this…. Have the fear of God boy.” He ended, uttering the curse, “Damn Abominations,” under his breath.

“Are you finished?” James slipped back into the shadows at the cold in his father’s voice. “Or do you have anything else you want to get off your chest?”

“Hmph.” The old man turned his head away, walking away towards the open window.

Knowing that anything he would say to his father would be akin to pouring water over an upside down glass, John Howlett sighed, gently thumped his fist against the armrest of the sofa, got up and started in the opposite direction, heading towards the door where James stood hidden.

For John Howlett, his relationship with his father had always been one of compromise, almost all of them on his side. Not only had the two had never been close during his younger years, but even after he reached adulthood, things had not improved…rather went from bad to worse, especially when John expressed a desire to become a doctor, an army doctor at that.

‘Where’s the money in that?’ Had been the first words out of his father’s mouth, right after he bellowed a ‘NO’ and asked him if he had lost his mind. A self made millionaire, the elder Howlett prided himself for his business acumen and accomplishments, taking for granted that his son would naturally want to join the family business and feel thankful for all that he had done for him.

“Its all yer mother’s fault,” he had told, blaming his already dead mother who had herself being a nurse in the Canadian Army in the Second World War. Even from his childhood it was clear that even though physically John would turn out like his father, the heart that beat inside him, beat on the same frequency as the woman who had given birth to him, the woman who had passed away when he was barely a teenager.

Things had gotten so bad that John had actually packed up and left, vowing never to return to build his life on his own and on his terms.

How he got from there to where he was now could explained with just one word…compromise.

That and ‘Heart Attack’.

---

“Hmm. Playing hide and seek are we?” Startled at being caught so easily, James stared up at his father, his eyes wide as saucers.

“N-No sir,” he shook his head, causing a few strands of his carefully combed back hair to fall out of place. “I-I…” he stammered trying to come with a plausible explanation.

“Looks like you are ready.” John got on his haunches, to the youngster’s eye level and with a gentle hand smoothed back the errant strands. Realizing that James had witnessed the altercation, he wanted to draw his attention away from that and to something happier.

Given his relationship with his father, John tried his best to avoid a similar future from developing between him and his children, and with John Jr. away to boarding school, all he had was little James here with him.

“Yes sir.” James answered, a bit easily this time.

“Breakfast?”
“Done.”

“Medicine?”
“Umm-hmm.”

“Good boy.” A gentle weighted pat against the boy’s slim shoulders and John pushed himself to stand. “Now lets see if Mrs. Thompkins is ready with your….”

“Here good sir,” the woman in question entered through the far end of the common area, one hand holding a small bag containing food, water and juice for James, along with his lunch time medicine, while the other handled a rectangular box filled with the youngster’s toys. A third thing, a large black umbrella, she had grasped under her left arm.

Handing it over to another servant who carried them out to the car, she walked…waddled rather to the masters’ side, zipping up James’ jacket and pulling over the hood once she got there.

Once fixed, the three of them made their way to the main door, James beaming at getting a chance to go out for so long…almost a full half day.

----

A few hours later,

“You want this?” With almost two and a half hours since they first meeting and a lunch break between them, James extended the offering he had made all that time ago.

“What?” Ororo glanced up from her drawing book, catching site of James holding his Batman and Superman action out to towards her.
“It’ll make a comple’te set,” he tilted the Batman figure towards her Wonder Woman doll. “Even this is okay now.” That comment was for Superman, whose had gotten his head back on his shoulders, courtesy of John.

Her initial suspicion all but gone with an easy camaraderie taking its place, Ororo changed her answer from the last time. “Sure.”

However, even as she extended her hand towards the dolls, she stopped midway. “Wait. What if she comes me again?” She jerked her head towards Mrs. Hopkins sitting a few tables away, busy talking to some other old lady.

Ororo was pretty sure that she did not like this old white woman. She had scolded her, not once but twice. The first time was when she sat on the same table as James. That problem had been solved by the appearance of James’ father, who told the angry lady to let her, Ororo, sit there. Being a good girl, Ororo had thanked him, complete with a nod. That she did it after her father gestured her to, did not matter to her. The second time had been during lunch. This time it was because of Ororo’s offer to share food with James.

“He don’t eat that,” the old lady had near about bellowed, causing John to step in again, just seconds before Ororo broke into tears for the second time in two hours. With gentle words he had explained that James was not feeling well and therefore could only eat food that had been specially prepared for him.

“Mrs. Hopkins,” James leaned sideways to get a look at his governess, only to straighten up seconds later and push the dolls towards his new friend. “She won’t say nothin’ now. Papa told her not to. You can have them if you want.”

“Okay.” She leaned in again until, “Wait,” once again her pudgy chocolate toned fingers stilled inches away from his alabaster pale ones. “Why’re you givin’ it to me? Its yours. What if you wanna play with them ‘gain?”
“I have more at home.” His response contained no lies. “Lots of ‘em. But don’t have anyone to pway with. You take these and then we can have to sides.”
“Oh. So you are only giving me to play with?” Ororo asked, her face scrunching up at thinking that it was for all time.
“Yeah.” James did not grasp her unspoken ‘only for now’. “They’re toys. What else does one do with them? You take ‘em and pway with them. Then when you want, you pway with them again.”
“Oh.” The way his new friend burst out laughing confused James even more.
“What?”
“Y-You,” she managed between chortles. “You say pway.”
“Huh?” It was clear that her comment did not find their mark.
“You say pway. pway.” Her laughter abating, Ororo tried again. Getting the same lost look, she clarified. “You said pway ‘stead of play, silly.” She smacked her head.
“Oh,” finally getting it, James blushed profusely. “I do that som’time. Also say bub in’sted of bub, I mean,” concentrating intently, he corrected himself. “rrr...rub.”

The laughter of the both children echoing across the now more than half empty hall, drew the attention of quite a few of the other children and a couple of the adults, but only for a few seconds, after which they were left to their own devices.

Finally sobering up, a glimmer in her eyes at the two toys lying prone next to her Wonder Woman doll, her hair slowly but steadily having fallen free, Ororo felt that she too should give something in return.

“But I don’ have anythin’ to go give you.” She spoke frankly, if a bit bluntly.

“’s ok.” His cheeks still sporting a rosy hue, nodded his head, stopping midway as if struck by an idea. “Hey, you know what.”
“What?”
“Next time you come, you bring your toys and I’ll bring my other ones. Then we can play with each other.”
“Okay.” The proposal was instantly accepted. “We can have a tea party too.”
“Tea party?!” It was James’ turn to hesitate. “I can’t drink tea.”
“Its not real tea stupid.” This time Ororo smack his forehead. “Its make b’leve tea. An’ cookies too. Its fun.”
“More fun than superheroes?” That playing make believe tea party would be better, more fun than playing heroes, was something James wasn’t too sure about.
“Yeah. It’s the bestest thing. Even betta than supaheroes.”

“Uh…’kay.” Although relenting, James’ acceptance did not ring with confidence. “But we’ll play superhero too.”
“Only if I get to be W’nder Woman.” Ororo was quick to cover basis.
“’k. An’ I’ll be Batman.”
“Why do you want to be him? He can’t fly. Not like W’nder Woman or Supa’man.”
“Yeah, but he’s the coolest.” James rushed to his hero’s aid. “An’ he just like us.”
“Hmmm.” Musing for a couple of seconds, Ororo dispended that thought. “Maybe. But still, he can’t fly. W’nder Woman can fly. An’ you know what.”
“What?”
“Seein’ her, makes me wanna fly too.”
“Now who’s silly,” James giggled at her. “Flying. Real people don’t fly.”
“They do.” Ororo defended her position. “An’ one day I will too.”

“Yeah. Like that’s going to happen.” James shook his head.
“It will.” Ororo pouted, sticking her lower lip out. “It will. It will. It will.”

“’k. ‘k. It will.” James finally relented, but not before expressing his own hope.

“The same day that I stop being sick and grow strong....jus’ like Batman.”

---

Note: Well, now that this is out of the way, we can get onto the mature stop. But don’t worry (an’ get your head out of the gutter). They are not going to become adults just yet.

Please Review!!

03. Promises-Schwomises

Summary: Ororo has to make amends for her actions…or lack there of.

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“…Ted Kopell and this…”

As on the side of the screen, the ‘news correspondant’ on this side too, dressed in a cool blue cotton shirt and a pair of plain white shorts, was bidding farewell to her listeners, her ‘not-so-captive’ audience…numbering a grand total of one. Her mother.

“I am Ororo Monroe and this has bin th’ evenin’noose. Until next time, gudnight and hav a gud day…an’ there betta be a next time, an’ you betta be here.”

The last comment was followed by a wide, toothed grin, one which was answered by a slightly exasperated and equally amused shake of the head. For N’dare, she didn’t understand her child’s obsession with the talking box, the TeeVee. She, herself, did not understand or care about the things they showed on it, satisfied with knowing and living her little corner of the world. After all, what use did she have with how the elections turned out in any of the places they named on it….or for that matter in America itself. Having become a citizen only a few years back, she had yet to….to vote. Nor did she care much about it.

But Ororo. Even her husband would give up at the rapid fire and seemingly non-ending volley of questions that the kid brought up with increasing frequency. While he answered some of the questions, David mostly tried to avoid answering them….rather worded his explanation in such a way that Ororo would not only get confused but do so to such an extent, that she would give him a look as if he had grown a second head. It wasn’t that he wanted to lie to her, or that he did not know the answers to her queries….almost all of them. He just wanted her to shield her from the harsh realities of life…wanted her to enjoy her childhood, something that he never got to do. On the job since he was not even fifteen years old, he had always had to struggle to eke out a living for himself. Had it not been for the year and a half long, oversees contract labor job that he had managed to get about ten years back, he never would have met N’dare, got the money to think about a possible marriage and to bring her to America. There would have been no Ororo, or his current job for that matter, the one he not only got but also had progressed in…in spite of his skin color.


And speaking of David, “Ororo. Ororo Monroe. You get your…yourself right here this very instant missy.”

Happy to hear her father's voice, Ororo let out a comedic whine at use of her complete name, running through her mental roster to try to make out what had she done now to make her pappa to use her complete name. And not only that but also to call her missy.

One look at her mother’s raised eyebrows, the questioning look on her face and that hand on hip pose told her that not only had she too caught onto that tone in her husband’s voice, she too was interested as to what had caused it…what Ororo had done to cause it.

“Pappa!” The usually lively greeting petered out to a low mumble as, taking off his shoes and slipping out of his worn wifebeater, the imposing form of David Monroe appeared through the space leading to the front door. Not only did he look tired, his face sporting the fatigue of having worked a full shift…and then some, he also sported a mild frown, one directed towards his daughter.

“Girlie! You just did it today.” ‘Ulp,’ Ororo gulped, now practically tearing through her ‘what did I do wrong today’ list. “You are in a whole lot of trouble. More ‘en that, you got me in trouble.”

“Ororo!” N’dare coming forth from the kitchen, hugged her husband, casting a pointed look at her the squirming Ororo.

“What’d I do?” Try as she might, Ororo hadn’t been able to find one thing wrong (in her parents’ eyes) that she had done today….especially today. Today she had sat almost the whole day home and right in front of the TV. The only time she gone out was with Mamma, an’ even then she had stayed close by her.

Her brave front, bolstered by her shimmering ‘puppy dog’ eyes and trademark ‘pick me up and hug me’ pout, seemingly not having any affect, Ororo feel back on a much…straighter approach. “I didn’t done nothing daddy.” The ‘daddy’ reserved for special occasions, slipped out all on its own…after all this did count as a special occasion. Boy did it ever.

“What day is today?” David stepped up and flopped on the couch. Springy once, it wasn’t that no more. All that was left was a sofa which necessitated one to take care while sitting on it, lest they wanted to have their behind sprung up.

“Uh-Sa-Saturday.”

“Good, at least she remembers that,” complemented David, not so much to Ororo but to N’dare too. Turning back to face the snow haired child, he inquired, “Where’d we go last Saturday?”

“Your fac-fa-fact’ree.”

“Remembers that too,” Once again it was spoken to both the women. “Wanna tell me then, what you told to Master James then, and why didn’t you tell me or your mamma about it?”

‘James?’ Confused for a second, a (proverbial) bulb lit up within Ororo as she recalled the kid that had given her that Batm’an and Supaman to go with her W’nder Wo’mn and to whom she had in return made a picture of her W’nder Wo’mn doll.

“I didn’t say nothin’ to him.” Ororo vigorously shook her head, even pinching at her throat to swear. “Pwomise daddy.” And there, that ‘Daddy’ slipped in again.

“You didn’t huh?” David arched a brow, getting yet another head shaking dance in return. “You mean that you didn’t tell him that you’d bring your toys…all of ‘em to play with him next time?”

‘Uh-Oh.’

---

//Flashback//

“You sure ‘bout this?” Sending surreptitious glances towards the two plastic figurines lying within arms reach of her, her fingers crossed under the table, Ororo, repeated her query for the third….and the last time. They looked nice and even though they were smaller than her Wonder Woman doll, would go great with her. And it wasn’t like she was taking it forcibly from him, he was giving…gifting it to her.

“Uh-huh,” his rosy cheeks scrunched up due to the grin on his face, James nodded in affirmation. “See, you gave me this in return,” he held up Ororo’s rendition of Wonder Woman, which accounted to basically a little more than a stick figure, with four rounds in total, one each for the head and hips and two to cover the chest area. Other than that, there was a tiara which looked much too pointed to be safe for the Amazonian Princess, a girdle, which, following the same ‘point’ set by the tiara, looked precariously close to skewering the poor warrior superhero, is she even so much as moved a limb, let alone bend or fight. Then there were the boots, one ending at the just the proper calf level while its partner went half past the thigh, both complete with what appeared to be white socks. The bracelets, bustier and shorts were bearable enough, but it was the ‘lasso of truth’ that took the cake. Drawn in bright yellow color, it not only covered almost half of Wondy’s right leg, its size also made it seem as if it were hanging from her tiara than from her waist.

“Hmm. I did, didn’t I?” Ororo flashed her own grin, marveling at her artistic prowess, not finding anything odd in that her Wonder Woman was sporting an Afro, one so puffed up that even Janeeyce (her neighbor downstairs) with her foot high ‘fro, would feel ashamed in front of it.

“Umm-Hmm.” James mirrored her head nodding. “’sides, when you come next time you can ‘ring it and we can pway together.”

“Okay,” and just like that there went Batman and Superman, grabbed in small slightly chubby hands, laid down on either side of the imposing Woman of Wonder.

“You can bring your other toys too,” James carried on, happy that he had made a new friend and won’t have to play alone anymore. “I’ll bring more of mine. I got lot more, Batman, Bob…Robin, Superman, Phan-Tom, Mand’ake” he prattled on, naming characters and ‘places’ that Ororo had no idea about. Finally, he ended on, “Green Lantun. I even have a ring of him, it really works…shines. What about you?”

‘So many!’ Ororo wondered to herself, her eyes wide at the sheer number James had just recited. Compared to him all she had were her…. “O’ course I have,” she put on her brave front and twist. “But they are all of Wond’r Wo’man. I gots a lion, two horseys, no, no, one horse and one pony. I got a car for her. It also works, and it goes sooooo fast…you cannot even catch it.”

“Then how do you stop it?”

“Huh?”

“You said you cannot even catch it,” James piped up. “Then how do you stop it. Doesn’t it just go away?”

“No, you dummy,” in a flash of dramatic flair, Ororo slapped her forehead. “You gotta turn the key. Five-six times. Then as soon as you leave it, it goes….zoommmm. Even makes sounds, just like a real car. Its sooo big.”

“Oh.” Having never seen such a toy and already more than a little impressed, James stared wide eyed as his new friend held her hands apart, leaving more than a foot of space between them. All he had was that small ree-mote car. And it didn’t even make any sounds. “Bring that next week.”

“Hmm. ‘kay.” In the flow and enjoying herself, it slipped out Ororo’s mind that she wouldn’t be coming next week. After all, even by coming today, she had missed her Supa’friends caa’toon.

“Pwomise.” A thick gloved hand thrust forward at her, one that she accepted.

“Promise.”

//End Flashback//

---

“Well?” David straight at the young girl standing in front of him. “Got an answer?”

Not knowing what exactly had transpired between Ororo and Master James, he didn’t think too much of it when the owner, Mr. Howlett called him to this office. Once there, he wasn’t surprised to see the young Master there, dressed as ever in clothes too seemed a bit too large for someone as him and definitely too hot for the weather.

However, he was surprised when John Howlett inquired about the whereabouts of ‘Roro, the name that James had told him. That surprise changed into shock when it was revealed that Ororo and James had promised each other that they would come this week too, and it was for the same reason that two medium sized chests stood in the corner of the room…all in accordance with their pact to bring more toys, or in James cases, as many as he could pack into those two boxes.

Grasping for straws, he somehow came up with some goddamned excuse about both N’dare and Ororo gone away, visiting….helping a friend who was just moving into a new place.

Moreover, seeing the fallen expression on the kid’s face and also on his father’s (at his son’s reaction), he had even blurted out that he would try to make sure that Ororo came next week. His words meant as a consolation were picked up by James, and the kid…he ran with them, finally managing to get both his father and David to agree to him, to what he proposed.

Come next Saturday, Ororo wasn’t going to the Howlett’s factory…but to their house, their mansion.

---

The next Saturday,

Once again being dressed in yet another dress, her second and last one, her cheeks puffed to the max, her lips stretched out in a pouting frown, Ororo ‘Sullen Face’ Monroe, stood still as a sculpture, as her mother braided yet another intricate but solid style into her long silky hair.

Just about done and waiting for her pappa to finish his shower and get ready, both Ororo and N’dare stopped short at the sharp rap on the door. It was only seven in the morning. Who could come at this time? Everyone they knew, they would cry or yell out to announce themselves, especially with the out of order bell.

A second ‘three rap’ knock and N’dare moved Ororo aside, got up and headed towards the front, passing David as he stepped out of the bathroom and shrugging her shoulders at his near silent, “Who is it?”


Sliding the chain out, and flicking the lock open, she turned the knob to open the door…only to find a white, smartly dressed, balding, aging man with a thick bushy moustache, standing in front of her.

“The Monroe residence?” The man inquired with a rather thick British accent, his query getting a nodded confirmation. “Mr. David Monroe?”

“Inside,” N’dare gestured over her shoulder, moving aside as her surprise broke.

“Who is it?” Coming around the bend from his and N’dare’s room, having quickly pulled on a fresh shirt and yesterday’s pajama bottoms, David repeated his earlier question, more for the stranger’s benefit that of N’dare’s. “Oh, Mr. Kenneth,” he exclaimed, recognizing the Howlett’s ‘family’ driver.

Not bothering with pleasantries, the stranger got directly to business, “The master informed me to drive you and a certain Ms. Roro...”

“Ororo.” N’dare cut in, getting a raised questioning eyebrow in return. “Ororo. Her name is Ororo.”

“O-roro…Ororo,” repeating the name a couple of times so as to get the current feel and pronunciation of it, the visitor carried on. “I have to drive you and Ms…Ororo,” he deliberated, getting a smile and nod from the shorter N’dare, “first to the factory and then drive the young Miss to the mansion.”

To say that both David and N’dare were surprised would be an understatement, their ‘reaction time’ being cut short as Ororo poked her head from between her parents, her large blue eyes catching the attention of the slightly portly Kenneth. However, as soon as his gaze turned to her, did the young girl duck back inside.


“Give me five minutes. I just….” David started, mentally calculating how long it would it take him to get ready, shove a couple of slice of bread into his mouth, grab Ororo and get down the stairs. Even keeping the forty-five minutes for bus, there was still almost a hour and a half till his shift began, seeing that Mr. Hewlett had sent the senior-most of his three drivers, was enough for him to get a hurry on.

“Please take your time,” Kenneth cut him off. “Come down when you are ready. The car is parked just around the corner.”

“Oh-okay.”

The message given, with a slight tipping of his bowler hat and a “Good morning Madams,” to both N’dare and to the bright blue eyes peeking out from behind her, the older man started down the corridor, heading for the stairs, but not without arching at a bushy eyebrow and shaking his head at the ‘Out of Order’ elevators.

---

It would be almost an hour and fifteen minutes before Ororo would reach her destination, having spent more than forty five minutes in the lap of luxury.

She had seen cars before, even sat in them, twice. But never had she seen or looked into one such as this one….forget about sitting in it. It also looked soooo beautiful. It was as white as her hair and the lining on it, Oooh, just like W’nder Wo’man’s lasso and tiara, an’ same golden color as the ribbon mamma had tied on her today. Even the seats inside, so soft that by the time she reached the Hewlett mansion, Ororo had fallen asleep…twice, once during the drive from home to Pappa’s work place and then from there to here.

However, one look at the imposing structure looming in the distance, rising even higher as the Rolls’ traversed the kilometer or so of a driveway, and all the sleep vanished from Ororo’s eyes, eyes that had gone as wide as saucers.

Somehow managing to pick her lower jaw from the floor of the car, she expressed her awe with two very appropriate words.

“Great HERA!!”

---

Note: No CATS allowed here….Grrr, especially not ones toting a whip (Cat-o-nine-tails) with them. Hmph.

Ahem…Please Review.

04. School Time

Author: Batman_Wolverine
Rating: PG15
Summary: Not quite. It is still Saturday, which means no school. Still, there is a lot of school talk going on her.

---

“Aooww…” the raven haired James winced as Superman took a hit from the bad-guy, the swat from a gigantic hand sending the Man of Steel for quite a toss, one thankfully shortened by the outstretched hand of the super-sized Apache Chief.

“I wanna be like ‘em,” he turned to his new friend and fellow Super-friends aficionado.

“Uh-Huh,” Ororo nodded half-heartedly. ‘Wotta a dumb e‘pisoed.’ She wasn’t even paying attention, well, trying not to. The cause of her sullen mood? ‘No Wonder Woman in today’s Supafriends’ story.’

‘Hmph. Dum-dums.’

She stared forlornly at her Wonder Woman doll, caressing the plastic toy’s hair back, as if trying to provide and find some consolation in the fact that just a few hours later she would be getting, at least a part of, her W'ndr Wom'n-quota for the weekend.

As for James, he was having the time of his life. Usually it used to be just him. Alone. No one to play with or talk to, not that he talk all that lot, especially during the TV show. Still, having someone to keep him company, someone to play with…it was better.


His wide as saucers eyes narrowing, his mouth curving down in a cute stupefied pout, James groaned, his protest drawing Ororo’s attention to the boring face of a balding old man who had replaced the cartoon. ‘An’ just when the fight was getting to the good part.’


“We interrupt this program for an emergency news announcement,” oldie-moldy droned in his sleep inducing deadpan. “At 8:27 AM Eastern Standard Time, New York, mutant rights activist and proponent of the so called ‘x-gene’, Professor Charles Xavier was attacked and shot while stepping out of his car. Professor Xavier was in New York for a seminar. The shooter, an unidentified man in his late twenties has been taken into custody.”

“Whoa.” Ororo exclaimed as Professor Xavier’s photograph came up on the screen. He was that P’ofessor had comed to her school. He had been so nice. Did someone hurt him? Why did they do that?

“Shot once in the back and once in the shoulder, Professor Xavier was quickly transported away to an undisclosed location. Along with his personal aides, accompanying the Professor was his wife and fellow scientist Dr. Moira Kinross-Xavier. We await any update on the Professor’s condition.”

“As for the people behind the attack on Professor, although no one has so-far come forward to accept or claim responsibility for the attack, a communicate has been released by the New York chapter of the Friends of Humanity Organization. In their release, the FOH has praised the unknown shooter. They also state that it was the hand of God itself that was guiding their fellow ‘crusading brother’ and that this only shows that God himself is on their side to cleanse humanity of this mutant menace.”

“We now return to your scheduled programming.”


A second later, the Superfriends returned the first visual that of the Wonder Twins using their powers to transform into an eagle and a bucket of water.

Whatever they did next went unobserved by the two children in the room, for not only were they more than a little scared at hearing about someone being hurt, they had also just got a new topic to discuss. Mutants.

“I seen him,” Ororo broke the silence first. That Puf’essor Zavyer. I seen him at my school.”

“Oh yeah?” James turned to her, his eyes full of awe. “School?”

“Yup,’ nodding feverishly, Ororo started off in a complete rant, recounting every little bit she remembered about that day.

“I had worn my blue ribbon that day…” blah blah blah, once off, she carried on for the better part of ten minutes, only stopping in between to gulp in air before setting off again. “…and then he left. Nice huh.”

“Nice huh.” Expecting a response and not getting any, Ororo turned to the awestruck James giggles bursting forth from her lips at the ‘duh’ look on her alabaster skinned playmate’s face.

“I said, nice huh.” A second, louder repeat and a yank for good measure and James snapped free from his seemingly hypnotic state.

“Huh?”

“You even hear what I say’d?” Ororo frowned.

“School...”

“Yeah.” She nodded, feeling more than bit put off at not eliciting a favorable response to the excellent story she had woven. ‘It’d just like the news they give on the teevee,’ the budding TV-person patted herself on the back, even if were a mental pat.

“School,” James echoed himself. “You go to school?”

“Yeah-wuh?” What sort of a dumbo question was that? Didn’t everybody go to school, ‘cause if they did not then Ororo needed their names, to quote the next time when her mama blew away her excuses for not wanting to go to school. “Whaddyou mean go to school?” Maybe she heard him wrong.

“You go to school…” Nope, no such luck here.

“Yes. Yes. Yes. Yessssss.” There, that should take of his stuck-record questioning.

“…outside? Everyday?”

“Yaaarrggh.” Ororo shook her head rapidly, trying to clear her mind off the echo starting to linger within it. “Yes. Yes, I go to school. Yes, the school is outside. Yes, I have to go everyday, ‘cept Saturday and Sunday. Yes, I got to school, outside and everyday. Und'rstood?”

In the lingering silence that followed her outburst, Ororo started to grow worried. Maybe she shouldn’t have shouted like this. ‘Mamma had sayd to not shout, fight or take anything that wasn’t mine.’ Suddenly afraid, she slowly turned her head, hoping that no one was coming to catch her. Maybe if she said sorry then-

“Whoa!” Already a bit unnerved, Ororo all but leapt out of her skin at the sudden outburst from the boy sitting a few feet away from her. “You go to school. Out. Everyday. You’re soooo lucky.”

‘Huh?’ Now it was Ororo’s turn be dumbfounded. “Y-Yeah,” she nodded warily. “Doesn’t everyone?”

“No,” James shook his head, the glimmer in his eyes fading a bit. “I don’t.”

“What!” The disbelieving exclamation echoed in the room. ‘He don’t go to school! An’ he’s calling me lucky?”

“Yeah, I don’t.” The boy’s shoulders slumped a bit. “I have to stay home. I get sick y’know.”

“No school?” Just as James did at the revelation of her going to school everyday, Ororo’s mental faculties braked to a stop at his not having to do so. “No. School.”

“Uh-huh. I have pr-prywait tuition. Mr. Clements three days and Mrs. Johnston two. There’s a class room-” He stopped midway, his eyes lighting up again, this time around at the sound of a jeep rolling up the driveway.

“He’s here.” Two words and he was off, leaving a more than little confused Ororo gaping behind him. What did he mean, ‘he’s here’? Who was ‘he’? More importantly, how was she to get off going to school?


Her curiosity getting the better of her, Ororo shook herself out of her stupor and started towards the direction that James had taken off in, heading to whatever it was that had caught his fancy.

Still a bit unnerved by the new surroundings and the sheer size of it, the snow haired girl advanced slowly, slowly down to a snail crawl at the voices reaching her ears. Stopping at an open door, she stuck her head out slowly, just in time to hear, “James. Stop troubling your brother.”

Standing in the middle of the large room, just inside the front door, were three people. One of them James, Ororo wondered who the other two people were. ‘Brother!’ the light bulb lit within her as she trained her eyes, first on the other boy and then at the slighter shorter woman. Clearly older than both James and herself, Ororo concluded that this must be James’ older brother, which would make the woman…

“But mom-” James edged even closer to his brother who had his arm draped over his younger brother’s shoulder. He was so looking forward to this elder brother’s visit from the boarding school.

“No buts. J.J. is tired from the journey and needs his rest. You can play with him later.”

“Mom-” John Jr began.

“What did I just say?” Ororo frowned at the woman’s tone.

Whatever James’ response was, it so soft that even straining her ears, Ororo could not make it out.

“Good. Now, go to your room.” With that, Elizabeth Howlett started to lead away her first born away, most probably towards his room.

Ororo watched as the clearly dejected James watched after the duo, his head falling to his chest as they disappeared through one of the doors on the far side. Watching him standing there, his clad to the gills in clothes form looking incredibly small, the headstrong Ororo reached a decision. She did not like that woman. Not at all.

---

By the time James returned to his room, not only had Ororo made her way back, she also had hastily strewn out both her toys as also a few of his, all in part to put up a show of her having stayed in the room, of not followed him…of not having witnessed what she had.

“Hey!” She greeted him seeing him walk through the door, his eyes still holding a hauntingly lost look in them, and even possibly a few shed tears.

“Hey.” James flopped down beside her. Reaching, half-heartedly, for one of the plastic saucers from Ororo’s tea set, he fingered the smooth cheap plastic. Turning it upside down, just so that he would have something to do, he finally looked up at her a clearly false smile plastered on his face. “Tell me mobe.” He slipped on the ‘r’.

“Huh? More?” More about what?

“About your school.” For a child whose only outings were the visits to his father’s factory or to the odd party or two that he was healthy enough to accompany his parents to, even the smallest experience of the outside world was worth grasping, worth cherishing.

“School?” For Ororo there wasn’t much to tell, after all it was dumb old school, with its dumb old classes, dumb old Mr. Buckstein. Buck buck bucccccaakkk!

“Yeah. How you go there, how big is it, how many other children come there, your friends…anything.”

“Anythin’ huh? Hmm, Let’s see,” Ororo wracked her mind sifting through her treasure trove of memories marked ‘school’. “Got it.”

“This one time, in drawing class…”

---

Note: Well, that was a short one, wasn’t it? I had planned for James telling about his home-schooling (and even showing Ororo his class room), but somehow that didn’t sit quite well with the mood in the latter half.

As for the last line, it’s a ‘kiddy’ take on that famous line from American Pie, by Michelle (Allison Hannigan). “This one time, at band camp, I stuck a flute in my p…” (You know the rest.)

Please Review!!