by Kurt's Chew Toy
He silently got up from his large bed, creeping to his slightly open door, looking around. Seeing the shadow was on the other side of the room, he pushed the door open, his feet pounding the wooden floor as he searched for the owner of the shadow.
Suddenly he heard a gasp and a glass smashing to the floor. Creed turned quickly to the source of the sound, his eyes going wide as he saw the girl standing there with one of his flannel shirts on, just barley hanging off of her.
~Damn, she looks good with that on~, he thought to himself.
His eyes took her in starting from her small slender feet up her long curvy legs, the shirt just hiding their apex from his eyes. Up her flannel clad body, the top unbuttoned just a hint of cleavage, her breasts jutting out proudly. However, when his eyes settled on her face, he could see that she was frightened.
'What the hell is she scared of now?' He asked himself, looking around. It was then that he noticed that he was naked and very aroused.
'Oh shit!" He thought, finely coming to his senses. He got a surprised look on his face, turned around and quickly made his way back to his room. There he leaned against the wall, panting as if he had just run a marathon.
He finely came out, wearing a faded pair of jeans, walking to the kitchen when he found her on her knees, picking up the broken glass with her bare hands.
"Here..." He said, kneeling beside her.
She gasped, dropping a large piece of glass, her finger bleeding from where the glass had sliced into her skin. He winced in sympathy,taking her hand to look at the cut, feeling her finger throb. He took a towel from the counter and used it to sweep up the loose shards of glass, making sure to get it all so she wouldn't cut her feet walking. He scooped it up and dropped it in the trash, shaking the towel out before tossing it into the washroom.
Creed then went back to the girl and got her cut finger under some cold water to wash the blood off. He helped dry it and got some antiseptic to put on it and a bandaid. He smiled at her, noting that she still wasn't completely sure about him. Not that he could blame her.
In Massachusetts it was eight in the morning, and the inhabitants of the Xavier Institute were just now getting out of bed...those who were early risers that is.
Xavier sat in his office, reading the morning paper. He was skimming over an article where a prominent business-man had finely come out and admitted that he was a mutant, when another article caught his eye. He started reading it, his eyebrows rising higher with each sentence. Apparently an entire family had taken a tour to explore the north Canadian wilderness. The parents and tour guide were found a few days ago, all three seemingly mauled by a bear... but the bear in question was nowhere to be found, the only sign that anything had been there were five sets of tracks. That and the couples twenty-two year old daughter was missing.
Those two facts stuck in Xavier's mind. It was odd that there were five sets of prints, and only four people in the group. And their adult daughter was missing.
It didn't quite add up in Xavier's mind like it didn't in the article. His eyes looked over the small map in the middle of the article, his eyes focused on the dot representing where the group was found. His eyebrows shot up as it suddenly all clicked into place in his mind.
The bodies were found near the Northern Territories.
There were five sets of tracks, one set not belonging to any of the group was huge, made by a person who must be a giant as well as heavy.
The only person who fit that build and could be found in that part of Canada was one he knew all too well.
And as this all fell into place, Charles got an overwhelming sense of dread for the girl. He wheeled himself out of his office, the paper in his lap as he hurried to were the rest of the morning risers were getting their first hit of caffeine for the day. As he wheeled into the kitchen, he saw that Storm, Logan and Rogue were already up. He was almost surprised that Jean and Scott were not up, but he reminded himself that they were trying to start a family. He chuckled, they were apparently trying till all hours of the morning and probably wouldn't be up till later in the day.
Charles smiled a hello to Storm and Rogue as he wheeled himself toward Logan who was sipping on a beer. "Mornin'" Logan said in his gravely voice before taking another swig of his beer. Charles nodded back. "Good morning, Logan." He said as he set the news paper on the table, his finger pointing to the article he was reading.
"Logan... could you read this. Tell me you see what I do." He said as he slid the paper closer to him, tapping the article in question. Logan took the paper and began to read.
At first he seemed uninterested, but soon his brows furrowed. He too glanced at the map, and the picture of the young woman who was missing. Logan had to admit, he wouldn't mind rescuing her from the cold of Canada. She was what one would call voluptuous, curves in all the right places, and then some. Major T&A too, and it all looked natural.
His eyes darkened as he read on, thinking that everything added up to one person and one person only.
"Sabretooth..." He muttered, looking back up at Xavier. "That's him all right. Only Creed could do that to an entire family just to get to their daughter. Who knows what he's doing to her right now." Charles nodded as Storm and Rogue listened in. "Exactly... I hope to God that she is all right."
The young woman squealed and gritted her teeth against the pain as Creed dripped the Iodine on her cut. It was deep, but it didn't hit anything other than meat, so it wasn't serious enough for stitches. He could tell the girl was trying hard not to lash out at him. He chuckled, she wanted to smack him so badly. Not because he was hurting her, but because he was there.
Creed gently blew on the cut as the Iodine went to work, killing any germs that had found their way into the cut. He had to do this because they weren't anywhere near a doctor if the cut got infected.
"Shit, shit, shit, shit..." She whispered, gripping his thickly muscled arm tightly. "So you do speak!" He teased, wanting to take her mind off of the cut as he put a make shift bandaid on. He kept a first aid kit ,not because he needed it, so he wouldn't be bleeding all over the place when he was injured. No use in luring predators to his cabin like that.
She opened one eye, her teeth gritted with a little snarl that Creed found adorable.
"Yes, Ah speak." She gritted out in a heavy Texas draw. Creed arched an eyebrow.
"Boy, aren't you far from home, kid." He chuckled, thought the use of the word 'kid' made him feel like a dirty old man. ~Heh, you are a dirty ole man.~ He thought to himself. ~You already seen her naked.~ He ignored that, making sure that the bandage was not too tight.
She leaned against a wall, her arms crossed over her chest, keeping the cut finger out in the air. She watched Creed as he dug through some old clothes he had in a trunk at the foot of his bed. She had to admit, he looked very nice. The way he talked made him seem like he was around fifty or so, but his body and face and the way he wore his hair said that he was much younger. She shook her head, smiling. If only she had experience with men, then she would know how to jump on an opportunity such as this. She had to cross her feet, pressing he thighs together as she felt herself getting aroused by her thoughts. ~Don' t fool yourself, gal. Your just a kid to him, he said so himself. Plus he's old enough to be your dad!~
She stopped at that last thought. She had almost forgotten about her parents. She hoped they were all right and that they had sent people to look for her. She sighed, looking at the floor, biting her lip. She didn't know when she was going to get back,
Creed came out of his bedroom, holding a pair of old worn blue jeans and a few white shirts she would wear. They weren't too big on her, the jeans were like hip huggers on her and she rolled the legs up, sticking them into the boots she had salvaged from her ruined gear. The clothes were quite comfortable, the jeans worn to where they were soft on her skin and the shirt clung to her wide shoulders and large breasts like a second skin. She put on the flannel shirt, covering her chest so as not to seem so top heavy, that and so she wouldn't distract Creed with her 'high-beams'.
Creed watched as she shimmied in to the clothes, his eyes on her wide hips and the swell of her breasts when she lifted her arms up. He raised his eyebrows at the sight. Even though her back was turned toward him there was still a lot to admire. When she turned around, he could swear those clothes never looked happier.
"Nice... well, now that you've gotten into my clothes... what's your name?" He asked. Even though the flannel shirt covered p her chest, he could see where the shirt stretched to fit over her. She laughed, tying the ends of the flannel shirt at her waist.
"My name's Cynthia... Cynthia Wleczek (Va-la-check)" She smiled, holding her hand out. "What's yours?"
Creed took her hand, noting that she had a firm grip and soft skin. "Victor Creed..." He answered, not sure whether he wanted to let her hand go or not.
She looked down as this hand, amazed at how huge it was and how rough and callused his palm was. She liked having her hand held, for some reason she felt safe near this man. She sighed, reluctantly letting go of his hand as her stomach rumbled.
"You have anything to eat?" She asked, knowing that guys his size always had something to eat.
"Yea... now that ya mention it, I'm hungry too." He said walking toward the cellar door where he kept a recently slaughtered dear he had butchered. He brought up two big hunks of meat, closing the door with his foot. He wasn't worried about the meat spoiling, the cellar kept the meat cold but not frozen so he could use the meat for a long time. He made sure to slice hers in smaller pieces so it would cook throughly, though he left his whole and only browned the outside lightly, cooking it only to warm it.
Cynthia inhaled the scent of venison cooking and smiled. "Smells wonderful, Victor." She said, walking toward him and peeking around his shoulder. "I don't care much about spices or anything. Just as long as it's edible and doesn't kill me." She chuckled, taking another whiff.
Creed chuckled. "Well, I'm not big on spices either. They don't make the meat smell right." He said ash e put his meat on a large platter and hers on a smaller plate, the small pieces stacked on top of one another. She grinned, eating the deer meat with her bare hands, giggling as Creed quirked a brow at her.
"What? So I'm hungry." She said, tearing a bigger piece in half with her teeth.
Creed shook his head as he pulled pieces of meat off and chomped on them. He watches as she made quick work of her meal, putting away a good pound and a half of deer meat. He continued to watch her as she licked her fingers clean. He was about half way through his own meal when she sat back, smiling a satisfied smile, almost like a wolf after eating its fill, he thought. He was going to have to watch her, there was more to this girl than just a great body and a hellatious appetite.
She sat there smiling, about to ask him something when she burped. She immediately covered her mouth, her eyes wide in shock and embarrassment. Her cheeks started to flush as she finely got all of it out. Creed stopped eating, his brows shooting up. He stared at her for a second before bursting out in deep laughter, throwing his head back, his eyes tearing up. He coughed a few times, watching her as she got himself under control again.
"Damn girl... for a little thing, you sure sure know how to belch like a man." He said, laughing again.
Cynthia uncovered her mouth, her embarrassed expression replaced with a smile as she too joined in with her own laughter.
"I know... my friends and parents have been trying to get me to stop doing that... but I guess there are some people who don't consider it a total insult." She grinned.
Creed's laughter was subdued somewhat as she mentioned her parents. It reminded him of what he knew he had to tell her. He cleared his throat, sighing as he searched for the best way to word it.
"Ummm... Cynthia." He started, suddenly loosing his appetite. "There's something I gotta tell you about your parents..."
