S.H.I.E.L.D. Computer Warfare division
Maria Hill might have been in a decidedly nonsexual pants suit, but she was giving most of the self-proclaimed nerds panic boners! Charlene had actually peed herself when their boss burst into the room and started shouting at the nerds to get to work hacking into the Fantastic’s computer system and get the Fantastic Car’s information from its android maintenance system.
“Director Hill!”
The shout came from a pair nick named the Ukrainian Twins.
“What do you two have?” Maria shouted as she strode to the terminals.
“We are in,” the man said, “Locating the flight logs and the Autopilot systems.”
“Where are they Dasha?” Maria shouted.
“I’m Dasha Director,” the woman said, “His name is Dima.”
“Where are they Technician Gogol?” Hill sneered.
“Autopilot was turned on and destination was set for…” Dima read the information, “Bangor International Airport, Bangor Maine, however the autopilot was turned off after the check in with Logan International Airport over Boston Massachusetts. And our names are both Boyko now Director.”
“What?” Maria looked at the two.
“We were married this summer, we sent you an invitation this summer right before the whole Apocalypse return trouble,” Dasha said.
“Right, sorry…” Director Hill was confused, “Little busy at the time… Wait, aren’t you two twins?”
“It was just a nickname,” Dima said, “We aren’t related by blood. We just both came from the same country as kids and get along really well Director.”
“Find them!” Director Hill shouted to the entire department.
*
Xavier School for the Gifted
“We need to speak with them right away,” the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents insisted.
“Look, I don’t you think understand what you are asking for suggah,” Rogue blocked the door.
“Miss, ‘Raven’ we know exactly what is going on,” the lead agent said, “Just like we know that your surname isn’t Raven. We need to see if we can break them out of their haze enough to locate them.”
“Considering what they did to Peter over the last four hours,” Kitty huffed, “I don’t see that happening.”
“Trust us,” the lead agent shoved the two X-women out of the way.
The two X-women followed them and waited as they went into the Phoenix Queen’s den. The sexual assaults would start right about now…
“Thank you,” Wolverine said as he wondered out naked, “Where’s the beer?”
“They are screwed,” Kitty said.
“Yep,” Rogue said.
Fifteen minutes later the women didn’t hear any of the lust filled screams that had been echoing down the halls for days.
“Thank you ladies,” the two men left the room.
“But…” Rogue gasped.
“Ah, there are some prosthetics that the Army doesn’t buy for veterans,” the junior agent blushed.
Kitty backed up to see what was going on in the room. A hand grabbed her and pulled her into bedroom.
“We got denied our sausage,” “How about some pussy?” “What do you say…” “Kitty?”
“Help!”
The door slammed shut.
*
Wendigo Island
Al and Monica fumed. They were being treated like children despite being a prince and a princess. Heck if their mom wasn’t there they would be King and Queen. Ben walked up behind them in their clearing.
“You are the MAN around here,” Ben said, “I’m not into vore, but I do like a handsome man to take charge.”
“What do you want?” Al shouted.
“I’ll be your bitch,” Ben drop his pants.
Monica half chuckled.
Al wasn’t gay, he had always fucked girls, but he felt compelled to put this pup in his place, which was sucking his cock. Al smiled and looked at Monica, both understood, they would need their own cubs and needed to dominate to ensure they would follow their will. Monica understood, they needed to dominate cubs either here or elsewhere.
Al grabbed Ben’s head and forced it to meet his growing erection.
S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters
“They have to be here,” the agent pointed at an island on the map.
“Why that one? This other one is the same distance and almost the same distance?” Director Hill asked.
“There is an automated weather station on that one,” the junior agent answered, “It relays it’s data over a satellite relay like the ones we put on the Richard-Drew children and it is still transmitting.”
“Why are we not getting their signals?”
“Unknown,” the agents shrugged, "We are putting up a recon flight to check for possible signal jammers."