Thirty-One Decembers: #6
Dec. 7th, 2007 10:24 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
infinitepryde(Late, but not forgotten!)
Fic: Thirty-One Decembers (#6)
Who: Kitty Pryde, Rachel Grey, mention of a batch of others
Set: Scott Summers has a habit of getting married whether the people around him approve or not.
Disclaimer: Marvel's.
"So here's to round number two of having an evil stepmother." Ray lifted her drink, hard-eyed and calm. "Maybe we'll get lucky and this one won't try to eat New York."
Kitty clinked glasses with a shake of her head. "Why would she? She already owns too much of it. Insurance hassles."
"I thought that was Boston."
"Nah, I hacked her accountant."
"Pryde!" Ray shoved at Kitty's arm, but her mood had already shifted. "Our good girl's fallen so far."
"And yet we're both wearing white." Kitty glanced down in distaste at their matching dresses. "It's not too late to change that, you realize, right?"
"I thought about it," Ray sighed. "Not worth it. Not quite worth it. Not till the Cuckoos try something."
Kitty glanced out across the ballroom where the arriving guests mingled. "You kidding? They all get to hang on Warren. The collective vanity right there could collapse into a psychic singularity if we're not careful. Trust Frost to figure out how to get away with having two extra bridesmaids. Because five wasn't enough!"
"Dad's got Piotr for an usher and Hank for a best man. Emma probably needed two extra people to help balance out the mass." Ray made a face anyhow. "Besides, look who else she's got. Us. Cessily...."
"And Hepzibah," Kitty put in. "I don't want to imagine how Scott talked her into that one."
"Probably told Emma that she was being invited either way, and if she wasn't in the wedding party, Emma wouldn't have any say about what Mam'selle did." Ray snickered. "I'd've loved to see that. Seriously, though, kiddo -- the only one of Emma's bridesmaids who doesn't hate her diamond guts is the skunk. She probably picked the Cuckoos as security. They'll make sure none of the rest of us takes the opportunity to stab her away from them."
"And in the mean time," Kitty sighed, "poor Bobby gets stuck escorting Cessily just because his shiny ice balances out her shiny metal."
"Cheer up. They could've matched her with Piotr."
"Over their own dead bodies," Kitty scowled, then turned pointedly away from her best friend to scan the crowd again.
And froze.
"Ray? Who's that with the pink hair?"
Ray peered over top of Kitty's head. "Alison, isn't it?"
"No, no." Kitty started to gesture, remembered she was holding a wineglass, and restricted herself to a quick, frantic flutter of one hand. "Who's that with Alison?"
"Huh?" Ray leaned a little further, and managed to get a better view around the younger woman's hairdo. "-- Pryde, you broke up with him seven years ago. Even if you weren't solidly dating somebody else? The statute of limitations ran out."
Kitty's turn to swipe at Ray's arm, this time. "I don't care if he's sleeping with her. I'm just mortally offended that Mister 'the Ramones are the sound of being sixteen and in love' is showing up in public escorting the Disco Dazzler."
Ray coughed repeatedly into a hand. "Kiddo, you got problems."
Fic: Thirty-One Decembers (#6)
Who: Kitty Pryde, Rachel Grey, mention of a batch of others
Set: Scott Summers has a habit of getting married whether the people around him approve or not.
Disclaimer: Marvel's.
"So here's to round number two of having an evil stepmother." Ray lifted her drink, hard-eyed and calm. "Maybe we'll get lucky and this one won't try to eat New York."
Kitty clinked glasses with a shake of her head. "Why would she? She already owns too much of it. Insurance hassles."
"I thought that was Boston."
"Nah, I hacked her accountant."
"Pryde!" Ray shoved at Kitty's arm, but her mood had already shifted. "Our good girl's fallen so far."
"And yet we're both wearing white." Kitty glanced down in distaste at their matching dresses. "It's not too late to change that, you realize, right?"
"I thought about it," Ray sighed. "Not worth it. Not quite worth it. Not till the Cuckoos try something."
Kitty glanced out across the ballroom where the arriving guests mingled. "You kidding? They all get to hang on Warren. The collective vanity right there could collapse into a psychic singularity if we're not careful. Trust Frost to figure out how to get away with having two extra bridesmaids. Because five wasn't enough!"
"Dad's got Piotr for an usher and Hank for a best man. Emma probably needed two extra people to help balance out the mass." Ray made a face anyhow. "Besides, look who else she's got. Us. Cessily...."
"And Hepzibah," Kitty put in. "I don't want to imagine how Scott talked her into that one."
"Probably told Emma that she was being invited either way, and if she wasn't in the wedding party, Emma wouldn't have any say about what Mam'selle did." Ray snickered. "I'd've loved to see that. Seriously, though, kiddo -- the only one of Emma's bridesmaids who doesn't hate her diamond guts is the skunk. She probably picked the Cuckoos as security. They'll make sure none of the rest of us takes the opportunity to stab her away from them."
"And in the mean time," Kitty sighed, "poor Bobby gets stuck escorting Cessily just because his shiny ice balances out her shiny metal."
"Cheer up. They could've matched her with Piotr."
"Over their own dead bodies," Kitty scowled, then turned pointedly away from her best friend to scan the crowd again.
And froze.
"Ray? Who's that with the pink hair?"
Ray peered over top of Kitty's head. "Alison, isn't it?"
"No, no." Kitty started to gesture, remembered she was holding a wineglass, and restricted herself to a quick, frantic flutter of one hand. "Who's that with Alison?"
"Huh?" Ray leaned a little further, and managed to get a better view around the younger woman's hairdo. "-- Pryde, you broke up with him seven years ago. Even if you weren't solidly dating somebody else? The statute of limitations ran out."
Kitty's turn to swipe at Ray's arm, this time. "I don't care if he's sleeping with her. I'm just mortally offended that Mister 'the Ramones are the sound of being sixteen and in love' is showing up in public escorting the Disco Dazzler."
Ray coughed repeatedly into a hand. "Kiddo, you got problems."
