So You Wanna Be an XMan, a x-men fanfic

So You Wanna Be an X-Man (or: Switching Realities for Fun and Profit!)

Warning! Warning! Parody Imminent!

This is a direct parody of the story 'A Short Fanboy Story' Chapter 1. By Michael Gibby. I do not have the permission of the original author, so consider this a really long critique. Gibby's fic is in blue and my writing is in the normal black. All things Marvel are under their Copyright, all things not parody are under Gibby's Copyright, and all things mine are under my Copyright.

"Jean," Professor Xavier complained, "I though I told you to change our phone number and email to unlisted.."

"I did." Jean replied, without looking up from reading. The book had a bold blue cover, with 'When Pencilers Change: A book on coping' in large gold letters across the front.

"Then how are these nutcases getting our email address?" Xavier countered, and pointed angrily at Cerebro's screen. "Look at this! The computer is so busy receiving requests for a Reality-Transfer that it can't find Magneto!" Jean looked unimpressed.

"If you want to find out what's going on, just nab someone for a minute and borrow a comic."

"What? And give them excuses to write more fanfics?"

"Well you don't have much choice do you? You can either shut down our email-account, or you can drag someone in from a different reality." She shrugged, "It's all the same to me..."

"I really need to find out what's going on..." Xavier gave up, and typed out a reply-email to a random message. "I know I'm going to regret this." He predicted as he hit send...

I'd always had a boring life. Never took any risks, never went after anything I really wanted. Just hung around for the ride. Until that day . . .

I was sitting at my computer, playing DOOM for about the ten millionth time, when my mom brought the mail in and handed me a letter. "It looks like another college wants you," she said. I hit "pause" and took it from her. I thought, "What the hell! I might as well open it, seeing as how it's the only mail I've received in a few weeks." Of course, I'd never say anything like that around my mother. She's one of those "churchy" types who believe you shouldn't even drink soda with caffeine. My love of Pepsi really gets to her.

I tore open the envelope thinking, "at least it's not the military again." Made the mistake of scoring high on the ASVAB. Now Uncle Sam wants me to do a few hundred push-ups. Sheeya, right! Like I could even do ten (consecutively)! The first thing that caught my eye was a big "X" on the letterhead. I've liked the X-Men for a couple years now, so it grabbed my attention. Turns out it was the first letter of a stylized "Xavier."

"Hmm, 'Xavier.'" I thought. "Maybe it's some promotional thing from Marvel." I went on to read the letter:

Dear Michael,

We at the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning are always looking for new students. Through careful research and study, we have enrolled several of the nation's gifted. Before reading any further, I would like to ask you to sit down.

"Cool," I thought. "I'm already sitting. So what did you want to tell me?"

What I'm about to say may come as a bit of a shock. You may already have suspicions about your nature, and I'm going to confirm them. You are a mutant. A member of the species Homo Sapiens Superior.

I stopped reading. "Wait a minute! The X-Men are only comic book characters. How could they be sending me a letter? And if I am a mutant, why haven't I noticed any powers?"

"Good question." Jean remarked, as Cerebro relayed Michael's thoughts. Xavier responded, but not verbally, and not in a reprintable fashion.

"Quick," he snapped at the computer, "relay a message to his subconscious! We need to know what he thinks he can do!"

Processing. Cerebro printed, all its mighty technology directed to reaching the mind of a teenager. (Scary thought isn't it?) They got a reply within seconds...

Then I started thinking. I had been getting my work done faster at the deli. Come to think of it, those bowls didn't seem as heavy now either. What if I were a mutant? Would my family accept me? I'd read about the anti-mutant prejudice in the comic books, but never the newspapers. Perhaps this was still a promo for Marvel. I read on:

I know what you're thinking. "How am I going to deal with this? Where will I go? What will I do?" I'd like to help you answer these questions.

The Xavier Institute has been recognized as an elite private school with a very limited enrollment. The reason for this is that we only accept mutants. Not for any discriminatory reasons, but because that's what we do here. Train mutants in the use of their "gifts," to benefit all humanity. You will learn more when you arrive.

I would personally like to invite you to attend classes here. You'll find that we have an extremely knowledgeable staff and cutting edge technology available to our students. Enclosed is a ticket on Delta airlines to New York City, New York. Your flight leaves in two weeks. This will give you adequate time to settle your affairs at home.

Please understand that I'm taking great personal risks in contacting you. Other organizations may have intercepted this letter, and I'm sure they do not have your best interests at heart. With the rising tensions between mutants and humans, you cannot afford to refuse this offer. You will need to have your credits from Weber State University transferred here, and leave your current employment at Kent's Marketplace. Do not ask how I know these facts about you. You'd rather not know and I'd rather not say.

"I'll say." Jean added, without looking up from her book. Which was now red, with the title 'A Mind is a Terrible Thing to Waste: by Emma Frost.'

"Jean."

"I'm sure he'd just love to know that his sister's in on this too." Jean continued. "And his mom, and..."

"Jean!"

The students and faculty here would like to welcome you in advance. You will be accepted here with open arms. Please respond by mail to the address below. We look forward to meeting you.

signed
Professor Charles Xavier
1407 Greymalkin Lane
Salem Center, New York

Sure enough, there was a plane ticket enclosed with the letter. I couldn't believe it. For years I'd been reading X-Men comics, wondering what it'd be like to be an X-Man. I was about to find out. I rechecked the contents of the envelope. Nowhere did it say "advertisement," and that ticket looked real enough. I decided to show the letter to my parents.

That evening, I did just that. My parents didn't believe it at first, but I was able to convince them. Like I said, nothing in the envelope suggested that it would be a fake. My dad was suspicious. Who would send a total stranger a letter and a plane ticket? We called Delta and confirmed that I was indeed scheduled for the 10:00 A.M. flight to New York on the 14th of July. The reservation had been made by one Robert Drake. I was pretty sure about the authenticity, but this confirmed it. There was a valid credit card number, expiration date, and address for Drake, so of course he had to be a real person.

I decided to accept the offer.

"Oh my God." Scott looked over at the Professor.

"You really shouldn't be using that kind of language," he chided Xavier, "there might be children reading this FanFic!" Xavier gave him an annoyed look.

"The kid we are bringing over sent us a list of the powers he would like." Scott paled.

"That bad?"

"He wants all the normal stuff: Super strength, Damage resistance, Weather control, you know, the basics." Xavier looked peeved. "But this last one is really obnoxious, he wants enough sex appeal to make dogs look at him longingly!"

"What? This isn't a lemon!" Scott paused, "He does know its not a lemon, doesn't he?" he asked. Xavier waved a hand at the keyboard.

"I don't think he cares!"

"But...but, we don't have a disclaimer at the top!" Scott objected, "It just isn't done, Professor!"

"Well, I'll see if I can't talk him into something else... I know! How about an immunity to Rogue's powers? It's worked before..." Scott looked dubious.

"We don't have a disclaimer for abject violence either..." he noted, but Xavier was busy typing, and ignoring the Team Leader.

In the two weeks that followed, I began to notice some very strange things indeed. At work one night, I dropped a piece of chicken into the hot deep fryer. Not thinking, I reached my bare hand in and grabbed it. Colleen was watching and nearly had a heart attack. All I could do was look at my hand in amazement. The oil in the fryer was at a temperature of nearly 350 degrees, but my hand wasn't even red. Steam was rising from it though, and Colleen said she could feel the heat radiating from it. This was way too weird. I put my hand under cold running water and, sure enough, the water almost instantly turned to steam.

That wasn't the only thing. After that incident, Colleen said that she wanted to hurry up and get done with the night's work, so I started washing dishes as fast as I could. Although to me it appeared that I was merely going faster than normal, Colleen swore she could barely see my hands. I had a whole night's worth of dishes done in five minutes. I didn't bother looking at my watch as I went up front to help clean up. I felt like I was going totally slow, but I was done before 5:00. We had to apologize to the customers who wanted chicken. I had already picked the meat off the bones and put it in the freezer. Everything was put away and we were ready to go home, but Colleen insisted that we stay until at least 6:30.

After that, I went home. That had been my last day on the job. I lay on my bed trying to figure out just what had happened. I could tell that I needed Professor Xavier's help to reach my full potential. Then, I had a thought. I broke out my Marvel RPG stuff and looked at Monsoon's character sheet.

Jean looked up from her purple book, 'The FanFic After: A book on dealing with Lemons.'

"I thought this was a Reality-to-X-Men, not a Reality-to-RPG."

"Perhaps the boy is simply confused." Beast noted.

"I don't think confused is the word for it..."

So far, I had exhibited signs of invulnerability and enhanced speed. Was weather control next? I looked out the window and saw that it was getting a little stormy. It had been a beautiful day, but the clouds had started to get a little gray. I said to myself (I always talk to myself) I said, "Self, looks like we've got a problem. Appears that my mood has affected the weather a bit. Wonder what I can do to change that." I closed my eyes and saw a beautiful pattern of colors crossed by a streak of gray. I pulled out my mental eraser and tried to wipe it away. When I opened my eyes, the sky was blue without a single cloud. I decided to wait until I got to the Institute before trying any more active weather altering.

"I still can't believe he bought those fake memories." Jean commented looking up from the bright green book, 'The Narrator: an unauthorized biography.'

"He is," Beast noted, "a pre-adult Homo Sapiens, a sub-species not noted for its wit."

"Now if he'll only stay that way..."

The days passed, and soon I found myself at the airport saying goodbye to my family and friends. My luggage had been put on the plane, and I stood there with my gym bag over my shoulder. My mom was of course crying, along with my sisters. I told them I'd write Mom every week, and that they could read the letters. My father and brother were standing off to one side talking to my brothers-in-law. Ben and I were standing by the gate talking.

"Now, don't get disappointed if it turns out that Rogue hates your guts," Ben said.

"Hey, do I look worried? Aside from the fact that I'm ugly, immature, and a complete loser, what's not to like? Don't answer that!"

"I should hope he won't" Beast commented, "after all the time needed to complete the recitation of such a list would indeed make him miss his flight."

"There's always prayer."

We both laughed at that. We'd been friends for years, and it sometimes seemed that we shared the same mind. We were always saying the same thing at the same time, if not thinking it.

"You take care of yourself, Ben."

"You too, Mike. And hey, see if you can get me a picture of Psylocke naked!"

We both said, "Yes! That's cool."

:Is it just me, or did we accumulate some bad Karma you forgot to tell me about: asked Betsy.

:Nope.: Jean replied. :I think God has just had a little too much NyQuil...:

"I'll see what I can do." And with that, I boarded the plane.

The flight was rather uneventful. I fell asleep after a few minutes. I awoke to the flight attendant poking me in the side, telling me that we were about to land and I needed to put my seat in an upright locked position. I broke the handle off the adjustment mechanism. I said to myself, "Better not shake hands with whoever they send to meet me. I'd probably crush theirs."

The plane landed and I got off. I must have looked like the stereotypical tourist minus the camera and loud shorts. I stood there with my gym bag slung over my shoulder looking around for whoever it was that Chuckles had decided to send. Mental note: Don't call him "Chuckles" to his face. Not the best way to win friends and influence people. Additional: Don't call anyone by their codename unless that's how you're introduced to them, and none of those little nicknames you've come up with. I could just see Remy flingin' a card at me for calling him "Cajun Boy." I saw a rather tall, dark-haired man holding a sign with my name on it. He was wearing red shades, so I figured it must be Summers, but I couldn't let him know that. Not yet. Next to him was a gorgeous redhead. Must be Jean. I was wearing my own shades (figured I'd start to work on Monsoon's "look" just in case I turned out to be him) and removed them to get a better look. Sure enough, it was the happy couple. I gave them a look of recognition that said, "Oh, you're the people I was sent to meet," and walked on over.

"I think that's him dear!" Scott announced to Jean, who was deep into another book, 'How to Handle Angst: A Hero's Trial'. Scott ignored his oblivious spouse and waved happily at the approaching youngster. Gee, it was nice to have people around, he thought Gump-ishly, this weekend should be a lot of fun!

Jean, however, has much more realistic than her husband, she figured that if the last 345,786,123,467 kids hadn't been much fun, this one wasn't going to ruin the record. Besides, she had angst to deal with...

She wondered if the child even knew the plane had transported to a different reality. It was awfully hard to miss the short loop through the astral plain... but it had happened before.

"Mike Gibby?" he said.

"What a coincidence! That's my name too." I was trying to be funny, but no one was laughing. "Just kidding. Nice to meet you Mr. . . .?"

"Summers. Scott Summers. This is my wife Jean."

"Pleased to meet you," she said with a smile.

"Very well then, Mr. and Mrs. Summers. Shall we go get my luggage?"

"Grey."

"Beg pardon?"

"Jean Grey. I kept my maiden name. But Jean and Scott will be just fine."

"All righty then, Scott and Jean. Let's get my stuff already!" And with that, I headed for the baggage claim area. I'd definitely have to keep reminding myself that I didn't know their codenames, and had never heard of the X-Men.

:I see he's conveniently forgotten I'm a telepath: Jean noted, her book now orange and entitled 'The Forgotten Power'

:Now dear: Scott answered :he's trying so hard to fit with our expectations, he seems such a sweet boy.:

:Never judge a book by its cover.: Jean answered and returned to reading about subliminal suggestion.

We got to the baggage claim carousel and started loading my suitcases onto a cart. I didn't have too much, but that cart was stacked pretty high. I still couldn't believe what was happening to me. There I was with two of my personal heroes, and I was wide awake. I wondered just how I would react to seeing Rogue for the first time.

:I'm sure she's thinking the same thing...:

:Now dear...:

Anyway, Scott tried to push the cart out to the car, but couldn't budge it. I decided to give him a hand and started to swing it around with no trouble. Jean stopped me.

"Cut that out! I don't care how strong you are, but you don't want to be noticed. At least let it look like Scott's helping you."

:This kid needs a leash:

:Jean.:

:Do you want to stand around signing autographs for an hour:

:Well...no...:

:Good, then help push.:

I could see her point. Mutants weren't exactly accepted in society, and a 140-pound weakling shoving around a cartful of luggage didn't exactly look normal. I decided to play along and let Scotty "help" me. We got the cart out to the car and put the luggage in the trunk. This would be my first limo ride since the Hawaii trip twelve years before.

We were toolin' down the road and I was playing with any controls I could get my hands on. Jean turned around and asked, "First time in a limo?" To which I of course responded, in my best Doctor Galazcewicks voice, "In a limo this small." She turned around and rolled her eyes. I laughed to myself, then found the little refrigerator. I opened it to discover a six-pack of Pepsi. "Yes!" I thought. "Everything's going perfect so far." I asked, "Is this Pepsi here for anyone who wants it?"

Scott said, "Sure, help yourself."

I grabbed a can, popped it open, and leaned back in the seat. I could certainly learn to like this.

We pulled into the driveway of the mansion. Wow, is that place big! You could probably fit my parents' house in it with room for two or three more. I knew there was more to this place than meets the eye, but there was a lot for my eye to meet.

We stopped at the front door, and I stepped out of the car. My heart nearly skipped a beat. There SHE was, standing at the door. She was wearing normal civilian clothes, and I tried to imagine what She'd look like in Her regular spandex costume. Major Woody decided to hold a flag-raising ceremony and pitch a tent at the same time.

:I'm beginning to see why they put college freshmen in separate dorms.: Jean noted.

I must've stood there for quite some time, because Jean gave me a gentle poke in the ribs. "Come on," she said, "let's get your stuff in the house. Rogue, could you give us a hand?"

Rogue was not currently in a mood in which sane people would ask her for help. She had just found out about Xavier's horse-trading with the kids powers.

"If 'ah had a dime fer every time this happens..." She snarled to no one in particular. "'Ah'll get them back this time, all of them, and their little dog too..." Rogue shook her head, great she was channeling the Wicked Witch of the West again. Dammit.

Rogue realized she had better get moving and flew over to the unsuspecting group.

"Sure thing, shugah." WOW!. "Howdy! Your name's Mike, right?"

All I could manage was a mumbled, "Uh-huh." I just couldn't take my eyes off Her. I didn't care anymore that I could grind trees into toothpicks with my bare hands. It didn't matter that I could stick my hand into a nuclear reactor and come away with only a small burn. All I wanted at that moment was to hold Her in my arms and never let go. I wanted to tell Her how I felt about Her, but I somehow managed to keep my mouth shut. Once again, I figured I shouldn't let on that I knew about the X-Men.

We carried my luggage into the mansion. The place looked even bigger on the inside. I looked around and saw Xavier cruisin' around in his hoverchair. I faked a surprised look at this "unfamiliar" technology. Then a thought occurred to me: just how did I expect to keep my thoughts hidden from the most powerful telepathic mind on Earth? I thought, "Professor Xavier, if you can hear me, I hope you'll understand why I'm faking this. I'm not sure if the X-Men know they're comic book superheroes or not, but just in case, I'd rather stay on your good side."

:I'll bet he would.: Jean countered to Xavier, now reading a yellow book entitled 'Keeping Timelines Straight: A book about life. :After all you got him the dream date with Rogue.: Xavier winced.

:Okay, so maybe that wasn't such a good idea, but once he's back in his own reality he can't sue:

:I just hope there's enough of him to send home:

"Don't worry, Mike. We're completely aware of that fact. Just where do you think I get most of my money?" he said aloud. "We let people think we're only comic book characters so that they don't try to find us. I've sold our rights to Marvel, and we send them our mission debriefings and a few personal logs."

:And if you buy that, I have some nice ocean-front property in the great state of Arizona...:

"Whew! Now I can stop pretending I've never heard of you," I said. "In that case, I'd like to get something off my chest." I turned to face Rogue.

"Rogue, I've admired you since I started reading the comic books. I hope that, at the very least, we can be good friends." I took Her hand and kissed it gently. Then She noticed that She wasn't wearing gloves.

She said, "Why, thank you. Ah'm flattered, and a bit surprised."

"Why, because you have a fan club?"

"No, b'cause y'all're still standin'. If ya know who Ah am, then ya know 'bout mah powers, and why Ah cain't touch nobody."

I considered the implications of what She said. Could it be possible that I was immune to Her powers? Nah, that would be too good to be true. "Just to be sure, might I have another kiss?"

"Sure, but if ya pass out, it ain't mah fault."

"Sounds fair to me." I then kissed Her hand again. Sure enough, I retained consciousness.

Rogue was seething, her suspicions had been right, Xavier had sold out on her. At best she might be able to salvage it with a little over-acting, after all Gambit would blow the little darlin' away if he tried anything. Hmmmm, it might be fun to encourage that... After all Cyclops would have a fit... but for now, Xavier would pay.

:You're dead-meat shugar: She thought very pointedly at him. :'An that headaches only tha' beginin':

She looked at me with tears in Her eyes. I could tell that She wasn't quite sure what to think of all this. I wasn't either. I mean there I was, the girl of my dreams right in front of me, and I had been preparing myself for the worst. Now it looked like it might not be all that bad.

Xavier said, "Could it be possible that you negate the powers of any mutant you touch, Mike?"

"I know one way to find out." I slapped my hand on his shiny bald head. "Can you still read my thoughts?" I said, while thinking, "Gee, your head is smooth. Not a millimeter of stubble on it."

:That's it: Xavier snapped to the other X-men :The child DIES:

:Now, now Prof: Jean countered, :This was your idea.:

:Yea' an' if ah' gotta suffer, so do you.: Rogue added icily.

"Of course it's smooth," he said. "I lost my hair naturally. I don't shave it."

"Of course not. Who in their right mind would want to look like that?" I said this with a smile, hoping he'd see that I was only joking. He smiled, obviously catching the humor.

:After all Sabertooth needs a new chew toy...:

:Professor:

:Can it Scott.:

:Yes dear.:

"All right. That's no longer a possibility. Well, Rogue, it looks like . . ." We turned around, and She was gone.

"Was it something I said?" I asked. I then sniffed under my arms to see if that might have been the problem. This, of course, was another attempt at humor on my part. I knew why She had left. She found a guy She could touch, and didn't know how to handle it.

:What do you mean we have to carry all this junk: Jean demanded. :Just because this Romeo wanted to bring seven suitcases for a two-day stay, does not mean I'm playing bellboy.:

:You wanna go after Rogue: Xavier asked.

:Shit.:

:JEAN: Scott yelped mentally, :There could be children present:

By this time, Scott and Jean had carried all my luggage to my room. I was ready to lie down for a quick nap, but Xavier insisted that I take a quick tour.

We started with the standard nickel-tour-for-the-public-so-this-looks-like-a-regular-school tour. I didn't see much that interested me.

"I don't see why you minded the suitcases Jean, after all you are a TK." Jubilee noted.

"So we should hire you out to do firework displays?"

Then we got to the good stuff. He showed me how to work the Danger Room for simulated combat. I asked him if it had the same capabilities as the Holodecks on Star Trek. He said it did, but there weren't any recreational simulations available for new students. He suggested that I use the swimming pool and stuff like that instead.

"And so another Barclay is born..." Beast noted.

"A who?"

"Jubilee, you have no appreciation of the finer things in life."

"Star Trek?"

He showed me the Blackbirds, and said that if I wanted to I could learn how to fly them. I decided that that would most definitely be cool.

He showed me the Rec Room, and I saw a Mortal Kombat 3 machine. I told him I wouldn't need anything else for recreational purposes, except maybe a good supply of Pepsi.

He showed me the medical lab, and explained I'd have to spend a few hours interning. "Everyone needs basic medical training in the event of an emergency," he said.

We paid a visit to Sabertooth in the Detention Area. He was happy to have some "fresh meat" around. I decided to avoid that area at all costs.

:No Sabertooth, you can't eat this one either.:

:Awwww, come on, just one little bite:

:Well...:

Anyway, to make a long story short, we finished up the tour. He then told me to get settled in. I'm not a patient man, and decided to unpack as quickly as possible. I was done before he even got to the elevator. I walked after him.

"Is there anything you'd like me to do, sir?" I asked.

"No. Why don't you go ahead and take a look around for yourself. Get to know the place, as it were. If you need anything, just ask one of your fellow students."

All right. I could do that. I decided I'd go down to the Rec Room and try my hand at some MK3. See if I could beat it with my usual skill.

When I got there, I saw Remy shooting a little pool. I decided to try and strike up a conversation.

:'Dat boy better leave me 'lone: Remy thought angrilly. :Rogue done tol' me what he did, an' I ain't lettin' no half-grown pup-dog...:

"Hey there, Gam- er, Rem- er, Mr. Le- sigh. What would you prefer I call you?"

"My friends call me Remy. You can call me Gambit."

"Okay, Gambit. Go ahead and call me whatever you want. I don't care."

"All right, Mikey."

"Uhhh, no. You don't call me Mikey, Waldo, or Spock and I won't call you Cajun Boy or Gum-butt. Deal?"

The pool cue was charged enough to take out a small horse.

Permanently.

:I can no kill that one, ne: He checked with Xavier.

:Of course not, We haven't got the comic book from him yet:

:Damn.:

:Remy, at least keep it down with the swearing, Scott's already on edge, and likely to have seizures if he catches you...:

"Sounds fair. So, what did you want?"

"Well, I uh, umm. Hmmm." I had to think for a minute. "Well, I came down here to play Mortal Kombat 3. You play?"

"I don' bother wit dem kiddie games. I play pool."

"Kiddie games? You think Mortal Kombat was meant just for kids? Haven't you heard anything about it?"

"No, I haven't."

"Well, mister, it's about the most graphically violent arcade game known to man. Now, if you can't handle a little blood and gore, you don't even have to watch." With that, I turned away and walked over to the machine.

:I'll give you blood 'n gore...: Remy thought, smiling.

The pool cue was up to two horses.

I looked at it, and was happy to see that, instead of "insert coin," the machine said "Press Start." I could definitely live with this. I hit that "Start" button and began to play.

I picked the "Warrior" difficulty level and was going along just fine, when I heard some steps behind me. "Mind if Ah play?"

I froze, turned around, and saw Her. "Go ahead. You any good?"

Rogue said, "Ah play ev'ry now an' then. Truth is, Ah was hoping to get someone to play with. No one else heah likes th' game. Ah had ta practically beg Charles t' get it."

"Well, I hope I prove to be a worthy opponent." She hit "Start" and we went to the character select screen.

I of course picked Sindel, as she's the one I'm best with. I always like to try my best character against new opponents. I then made an interesting observation.

"Hah, it must be the stripe."

"'Scuse me?"

"I guess I just have a thing for women with stripes in their hair. wink"

:Oh mah God. Ah'm gonna be sick...:

:Chere? Dat tadpole boderin' you:

Three horses...

:GAMBIT: Xavier snapped.

Two horses...

"Yeah, whatevuh." And then She picked Stryker.

"That's the first guy I got good enough to beat Novice with," I said.

"Wouldja just shut up an' play?"

"Yes, ma'am. Shutting up and playing, ma'am." She rolled her eyes. I could tell that my particular brand of humor wasn't exactly winning Her over.

We started playing, and I was immediately impressed by Her skill. She nearly beat me in the first round, but only because I was holding back. I got a Flawless off of Her in the second round, and busted my Babality.

"Good game," I said.

"Wow! Yer good. Anythin' else y' good at?" She said with a gleam in Her eye.

Gambit recognized that expression, since he had given it to so many women in his time. I was of course clueless.

:Chere, de man jus' said...:

:'Ah know shugah, but he didn' say it to me...:

:ROGUE:

:Damn.:

"Well, uh, no."

"Aw, c'mon! Y' gotta be good at somethin'. Ah bet you just ain't tried it yet." She shot a quick glance at my crotch.

I caught Her meaning from that look. "Uh, I uh, gotta be going. Um, I'll uh, see ya later or something." And with that, I ran.

I ran so fast I blew pictures off the walls. I ran straight up to my room, turned around and locked the door.

What was my problem? The girl of my dreams had just all but offered to have sex with me, and I was running away like a scared rat. There was a knock at my door.

"Um, who is it?"

"Mike? Is there a problem?" said the voice beyond the door.

Not too sure of who it might be, I walked over and opened it. I was rather surprised to see Hank McCoy standing there. I let out a small scream.

"Oh, sorry Mr. McCoy. I wasn't ready to see you in all of your furry blue glory. What can I do for you?"

"Actually, I was attempting to ascertain what I might be able to do for you."

:Hopefully i's sometin' perm'nent, ne:

:'Ah can only wish...:

:Aaaaaaaaaa:

:Sorry Scott...:

:Not a lemon...gasp...wheeze...not a lemon...:

"sigh Well, if you must know, I do have a small problem. You see, it's about Rogue."

"Ah, yes. Another young heart smitten by the beauty of our southern belle. As I have heard, you appear to be immune to the effects of her powers."

"Yeah, that's the problem. I don't think She quite knows how to handle Herself. Actually, I think She just tried to get into my pants." I then told him about the recent incident in the Rec Room.

"Yes, I can see how such behavior might be considered rather forward. Might I make a suggestion?"

"I'll try anything once."

"Talk to her. Try to get her to understand your feelings, and see if you can understand hers."

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. How can I find Her though? This mansion's a pretty big place."

"When in doubt, ask. Computer, where is Rogue?"

A voice came out of nowhere and said, "Designate Rogue is in the swimming pool area."

"Wow, just like Star Trek! Thanks, Mr. McCoy."

"Anytime. And please, call me Hank. 'Mr. McCoy' makes me feel positively ancient." And with that, he left.

Four horses...

"'Ah'm gonna kill 'im Professor... an' you..."

"Now Rogue... there's no need... violence never solved anything!"

"Yipe!" mild pummeling "Erk!" a little more pummeling "Eeep.."

"Here Chere, let me help..."

DISCHARGE

Half-a-horse...and building...

I decided I would go talk to Her. Since She was at the pool, I figured I might as well do some swimming while I was at it. I changed into my swimsuit, grabbed a towel, and headed for the pool.

I stepped out the back door, and nearly hit myself in the face with my woody. She was lying beside the pool in one of the smallest bikinis I had ever seen. I blinked a couple times, and shook my head. I'd have some trouble getting used to the proportions of the ladies around here.

I walked around Her, trying not to look directly at Her (absolutely magnificent) body. I jumped into the pool, and remembered one small problem. I don't know why, but for some reason I find it impossible to swim in water that's over my head. I made the mistake of jumping into the deep end. I splashed around like a complete moron for a few seconds before She flew over and pulled me out. We sat on the edge while She tried to knock the water out of me.

"Jus' what're you tryin' ta do, boy? Kill y'self?"

:'Ah'll be more'n happy ta' help...:

:Um..chere? You gonna break sometin'...:

:ROGUE:

"cough I was trying gag trying to swim, but I choke I forgot I don't like water over my head, it's been so long since I went swimming. Actually, I came here to talk to you."

We got up and walked over to some chairs. "Y' wanna drink?" She asked.

"No, thanks. I think I drank enough of the pool to keep me satisfied."

She giggled a little. "Y'know, Mike? Yer a funny guy."

"Well, looks aren't everything," I said with a grin.

She laughed at that too. "So, what'd ya wanna talk about?"

"What was that?" I had allowed myself to be distracted by Her breasts shaking up and down as She laughed. "I'm sorry, but I find it difficult to talk to you while you're wearing that swimsuit."

:Thinkin' wi' de wrong head, ne:

:GAMBIT!...Urk!...Gasp: (Thud...)

:Whoops, sorry Cyc...:

"Then Ah'll take it off." She reached behind Her back and started to untie the straps.

"NO! No, that's uh, not what I meant." I could feel my face getting hot, and I knew I was blushing.

"Ah knew that. Ah was just tryin' t' see if ya'd run away from me again. Ain't you ever even kissed a girl?"

"No. Yes. Well, does first grade count?"

She shook Her head. "Grade school don't count. Ah'm talkin' really kissed a girl. Like this . . ."

She leaned across the table and kissed me full on the lips BOING! I kissed Her back, and She sat down. I sat there dumbfounded for a few seconds.

"Wwwwoooooow wwww." I sounded like a druggie tripping out. "That was cooooooooooooool." I shook myself out of my stupor. "Nope, can't say I have before just now."

"Then y' never had sex neither?"

"Uh, no. Kinda hard to do that without kissing first, isn't it?"

"How should Ah know? Ah ain't done it neither."

:'Lest not'n this FanFic..:

:Gasp!...Wheeze!...Ro..gue: (thud)

:Sorry Cyc...:

"Oh yeah, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. What was with that business in the Rec Room?"

She started crying. "You don't know what it's like. Ah ain't even touched another person, 'cept to take their powers, for years. Ah didn't have no one ta wipe away mah tears when Ah cried, or ta hold mah hand at a movie. When y' kissed mah hand this mornin', Ah could barely keep mahself from grabbin' for ya right then an' there. If'n Remy hadn't been in th' Rec Room at the time, Ah might've done it then, too."

:An' fer best actress 'n a tasteless FanFic...:

I took Her hands in mine. "All right. I see how you feel. Now let me explain my feelings. For a few years now, I've read the X-Men comic books. The first one I bought was a reprint of when you first became an X-Man. I saw you and thought, 'Wow, what a babe!' I wondered what it'd be like to make love to you. Hell, at that time I wondered what it'd be like to make love, period. I still do.

:Dat be a personal problem, ne:

:Not any more...:

"As time went by, I learned more about you. I had no idea how strong you were until I was actually paying attention to the stats on the back of the trading cards. 'Fifty tons?' I thought. 'Wow! She's tough.' I also learned more about your other powers, like your natural one. I'd always planned to try to go a whole day with gloves on, not touching anyone for anything. I never got around to it because I never had any gloves I could use and everyone I was with wouldn't understand.

:Gee, how touchin'. He's read mah' card. 'Ah jus can't wait ta thrown mah'self inta his waitin' arms...:

:Nice try Rogue, but cartoons can't win Oscars.:

:'Ah can try, Jean, 'Ah can try...:

"I understand what your life must be like. How hard it is to deal with Remy's advances. I'd always imagined what it would be like to actually talk to you. Now that I know, I'd like to do more. I'd love to have sex with you, but I don't think we're quite ready for it. After all, we only met just this morning.

:This is a teenage male:

:Oh, hi Bishop, welcome to Hell. An' yes, it's male.:

:Yet it is not attempting to sleep with you:

:Mah' heart's breakin', can't ya tell:

:Fascinating.:

"All I'm saying is that we need to get to know each other better before we do anything like that. I've come to consider you as more than just a hot babe in a tight outfit. To me, you're a hot babe in a tight outfit who needs someone to treat her right.

:So 'Ah've gone from bein' a tradin' card, to a beloved pet: Rogue was nearing meltdown.

:Or jus' an 'spensive tradin' card, ne:

"Lord knows Cajun Boy hasn't been very nice to you lately, if ever."

"Thought you said you wouldn't call me Cajun Boy, Mikey." Remy stepped out of the shadows.

"Not to your face, Gambit. How long have you been there?"

"'Bout since Rogue kissed you."

"Okay, so what do you want?"

"De Professor been tryin' t' get ahold o' you, chere. Dere's no intercom by de pool so he sent me t' fetch ya."

:'Ah owe ya one shugar.:

:I'll remember dat chere...:

:Next lemon...:

:Jean.. make them stop...:

:Sorry Cyc.:

"Ah better go see what he wants. See ya later, Mike." She stood up and kissed me on the cheek, then went inside the mansion.

I looked over at Gambit. "Was there something else, or did you just want to interrupt us?"

:Actually tadpol' dat was de least 'o my intentions...:

:REMY:

:Sugar, If he don't, 'Ah will.:

"Look here, boy. Dat girl means a lot t' me. I ever find out you hurt her, you won't live t' regret it."

"All right, Meester. If you'd been paying any attention, you'd have seen that She means the world to me. I'd give anything, do anything for Her. The way you been treatin' Her, don't look like you care about Her all that much. Now if you'll excuse me, I feel like getting a bit o' dinner." I got up and left.

The card was charged so high it could have taken down a charging elephant just by flying past it.

"'Dat is de last time I let dat one live, you hear me Xavier?" Gambit cursed, far from quietly.

:Look, I really need that comic, and he's only going to be here for another couple of lines: Xavier countered.

"'Dat be a few hun'red lines too many, ne?"

I went to the kitchen and opened the fridge. Looking around, I could see why Jubilee didn't feel at home here. There was practically no junk food there. At least there was a bottle of Pepsi and fixin's for a sandwich. I made a sandwich, poured me a glass of the Drink of the Gods, and sat down at the table to eat.

Iceman walked into the kitchen. "Hey, it's the new kid! How you doin', man?"

"Just fine," I said. "One small problem though. I'm not sure what to call everyone. Aside from Rogue and Bishop, I know everyone else's real name. Do I call them Mr./Ms. or do I use their first name?"

:Mr./Ms. Bobby Drake... I like that.:

:Jean.:

:Or maybe he can just use those charming nicknames...:

:JEAN:

"I don't know about the others, but you can go ahead and call me Bobby." He opened the fridge and got out the mayonnaise. "Hank should be okay for McCoy, but grunt I'd call the others oof by their last name for a while. Jeez, who used the mayo last?"

"Oh, sorry. I keep forgetting that I'm, like, totally strong now." I took the jar from him and opened it.

:He forgot:

:With the attention span of a gnat? I'm not surprised.:

:Be nice Jean.:

:Be realistic Professor.:

:You're starting to sound like Scott..:

:Why don't you go build a snowman...:

(To not be continued...)