In a Brotherhood Far, Far Away...

"I leave you alone for one hour – one! – and this is what I come back to?" Mystique stood in the doorway of the Brotherhood headquarter's living room, a scowl set on her face and a large brown bag of groceries balanced precariously on her hip. Her disapproving look was met by her teammates: Angel was wearing an oversized, shaggy brown coat and staring guiltily at the floor, unable to meet her friend's gaze; Emma stood next to the winged girl, draped what looked to be a white bed sheet turned into a toga and nervously twisting a free strand of hair that had come loose from the buns on either side of her head; Janos stood just behind the girls in a black vest and holding a toy handgun. The trio looked utterly ridiculous.

The brunt of Mystique's accusation, however, was directed at her partner: Azazel stood sheepishly in the center of the room, for some reason wearing a bathrobe over his black suit. Standing just to the side of Azazel was Kurt, the pair's four-year-old son. Oblivious to his mother's annoyance, the blue boy was making loud swishing noises and swinging a large wrapping paper tube that had been amateurly painted green. The blue child was dressed in one of Erik's white shirts; it was so large on his small body that it looked more like a dress. Both Kurt and Azazel had their tails wrapped around their waists like belts. All around the living room were boxes and toys, paper and art supplies that the team had apparently tossed about during their play. One look told Mystique that it would take her the rest of the day to clean up the mess.

"Lyubov, we were just…"

"This place is a mess!" Mystique interrupted the red mutant, who took a step back from her words. "I just spent three hours cleaning it yesterday…." Her voice trailed off and her amber eyes narrowed as she took in her partner's attire.

"Azazel, are you wearing my bathrobe? My good one?" Azazel bit his lip and shrugged noncommittally while and Mystique shook her head in frustration. The red mutant held up his hand and opened his mouth to speak when suddenly, the door behind him opened. All the mutants turned to see Erik stride out purposefully out wearing a cape of black garbage bags and his telepathy helmet.

"Luke," Erik breathed dramatically, holding his hand out towards Kurt. "I am your father…" Erik's voice trailed off when he noticing a frowning Mystique in the doorway.

"Mystique! When did you get back?"

"What the hell is going on here?"

"Mamma, I'm Luke Skywaltzer!" Kurt swung his paper tube in the air, making light saber noises.

"Skywalker, darling," Emma corrected, smiling at her godson. The lithe blue boy then ran towards Erik, swinging away. Erik quickly pulled out a red wrapping tube and began to play fight with Kurt, ignoring the rest of the group.

"I should be Vader," Azazel muttered jealously under his breath as he watched Erik and Kurt spar. "I am his real father." Mystique finally put down the bag of groceries and rubbed her eyes with both hands.

"The kid wanted to play Star Wars, what can we say?" Angel smiled at Mystique and held out her hands, shrugging. "He can be persuasive when he wants to be."

"We still need a Yoda…?" Janos ventured, looking hopefully at Mystique.

"Yoda? Really?" The blue woman cocked her head and narrowed her eyes at him. The Latino man looked back towards the floor at her words. Mystique sighed and marched towards the toy chest in the room's corner. She rummaged around for a few minutes before triumphantly pulling a paper mask out of the pile.

"I am so Boba Fett." Azazel smiled warmly at her as she slipped the mask on and transformer her body to be a replica of the bounty hunter's clothing.

"Lyubov, you are the best…"

"Can it Obi-Wan; when we're done, you're cleaning this room until it sparkles."