Chapter 1: Rogue
"Oww!"
Ororo looked back down the garden path at the shorter, auburn-and-white-haired woman yanking impatiently at the tangled branches of the rosebush growing up the trellis. "Rogue, are you all right?" she called, pausing in her pruning of the old juniper bush.
"Yeah, 'Ro," came Rogue's answer as she stepped out from under the trellis and stripped off her heavy gardening gloves. "Jus' got mah hair tangled in that stupid rosebush!" She pulled off the elastic holding the majority of her thick hair at the nape of her neck, then started to gather the straggling ends back into their thick ponytail. "Ah tell yah, 'Ro, they might be pretty, but they--"
Both women stopped talking as they heard the sound of a car coming up the driveway. Rogue craned backward, peeking around the garden gate. "Naw, it ain't the boys," she said, clearly disappointed. Remy had promised to get her something for her birthday coming up, and she wanted to get a peek at his bags when he came in, hoping to get a glimpse of whatever it was he was going to get.
Ororo put down the pruning shears and came over to join Rogue at the garden gate. They watched as a dark blue Cavalier rolled up the front driveway, parked neatly to one side so as not to obstruct the way for any other cars that might be coming, and disgorged a nicely-dressed middle-aged couple holding a small animal crate. "What the--"
The woman put the crate down on the asphalt of the driveway and opened it. Out shot an enormous black cat. It was half again the size of any stray Rogue had ever seen, and possessed the most piercing pair of vivid blue eyes. It yowled at the woman in complaint.
"I'm sorry, Mickie," the woman said apologetically. "But you heard the policeman. You have to ride in the crate." The cat meowed back, still clearly complaining, then turned and looked at the front of the mansion up and down, appraisingly.
Rogue blinked. There seemed to be a purpose to the cat's movement, almost as if it were human. She swung the garden gate open and walked up to the couple, Ororo following. "Hello," she said, holding out one hand. "Can we help y'all?"
The man straightened up. "Uh, yes," he said tentatively. "I called Mr. Charles Xavier earlier about a problem with my daughter…"
Rogue vaguely remembered Charles saying something about expecting a new student, but she hadn't been paying much attention. Scolding herself for her lack of attention, she pushed a stray auburn curl from her forehead and smiled reassuringly. "Ah can take yah to him," she said. "He's probably expectin' yah, seein' as how y'all're here." She led the way up the front steps, pushed open the heavy front doors, and brought them into the front foyer. "Was he expectin' the kitty?" she asked as she took them through the front rooms and down the hallway toward Charles' public office. "What's your cat's name, anyway?" She turned to look at the couple as she asked the question, and was startled by the glare the cat gave her from the safety of the woman's arms.
"Uhm, she's…she's, err, not really a cat," the man said. "This is Micaela. She's our daughter." Rogue stopped dead, staring at the cat wide-eyed, and behind her, Ororo echoed, "Your…daughter?"
"Mickie's a shapeshifter," the woman hastened to explain. "She started out by just changing her hands and fingers to different shapes, but she got a little bolder and started to try whole body shapes. She shifted into a cat, just for fun, and…uh…got stuck."
Rogue blinked. The cat gave her another blue-eyed glare before settling into the woman's arms purring sweetly. Ororo took over, leading the still-stunned Rogue and the quiet couple up to Charles's office door. She knocked. "Charles?"
"Come in, Ororo." She opened the door and let the couple, the woman still holding the cat, walk into his office ahead of her. There were two chairs already pulled up; Charles had expected them, obviously.
"Mr. Thompson, Mrs. Thompson, welcome to my school," Xavier said, indicating the chairs. The couple sat down, the woman settling the cat on her lap. "And this is Mickie?" His eyes went briefly unfocused, looking at but not really seeing, the cat sitting on the woman's lap. Rogue knew that look; Charles only got that look when he was communicating telepathically.
* * *
Can you hear me?
Mickie almost jumped out of her skin. Fur, she corrected herself sarcastically, you have fur now. And if this man can't help you you're probably going to have fur for the rest of your life. She sprang out of her mother's lap and jumped up on the desk, eyeing the man behind that desk carefully.
Oh, almost certainly we can help you, came that voice again, slightly amused now. Your parents brought you here for that specific purpose. I'm Charles Xavier, the Headmaster here at the Institute.
I'm Micaela Thompson. Mickie for short. Mickie reached out a hand for him to shake, and realized she didn't have a hand, she had a paw. Mr. Xavier took it anyway, his lips curving into a smile at the thought of himself shaking the paw of a cat, then turned his attention to the parents. "Mr. Thompson, Mrs. Thompson, thank you for bringing Mickie here. She has a unique mutation, but not an impossible one. She will be back to her own self soon."
Andrea Thompson almost sobbed in relief. "Oh, thank goodness! I've been so worried! This happened just after final exams, and we were lucky that her school was just letting out for the summer and the faculty didn't care about attendance too much. We told them we were going on vacation early to explain why Mickie wasn't in school. She doesn't have that many friends, so we were a little lucky there."
Calvin Thompson put a hand over his wife's hand and squeezed it gently. "We thank you for allowing us to bring Mickie here, Mr. Xavier," he said. "We've been so worried. She's been like this for almost a month now, and it's so awkward. We used to hear her around the house all the time; and now we miss it so much. It's odd to hear meowing instead of my little girl calling me." Mickie got up from her place sitting on the desk and jumped into her father's lap, rubbing her cheek against his. He got a little misty-eyed as he patted her head gently. She leaned into the caress. Really, there were places that fingers could get to that her own paws couldn't. Like right behind the ears.
Xavier indicated the two women standing behind the couple, still staring at Mickie. "Mickie, Mrs. Thompson, Mr. Thompson, these are two of our teachers. This is Marie Rousseaux," and Rogue smiled as she held out her hand. Both parents shook her hand. "And this is Ororo Munroe. Marie teaches Physical Education, and Ororo teaches Meterology and Earth Sciences." The two parents shook Ororo's hand.
Xavier steepled his fingers, pursing his lips thoughtfully. "It is June, and classes are not currently in session. Most of our other students have left. We only have a few who board here year round, so that means a lot of our rooms are empty. Will Mickie require any…special arrangements?"
Mickie rolled her eyes. Just a place to sleep, it doesn't have to be a bed, though that might be nice. And maybe a private place for…my…litter box? After a month it was easier to say, but no easier to admit. She might still be human inside, but she was in cat form, and cats weren't designed to use toilets. She found it intensely embarrassing to have to use a litter box. And forget using it in front of anyone who might see! She felt her body flush with embarrassment, and was glad her cat form didn't have exposed skin to blush with.
"We have a few bedrooms with a bathroom attached, for our special needs students. One of those should do fine. As we have so few students now, Mickie should have plenty of privacy. Hopefully this little problem should be cleared up in a couple of months when classes resume."
Little problem! Mickie rolled her eyes again and jumped off her father's lap. Little problem for them, big problem for her. She arched her whiskers forward, amused. So where is this bedroom?
"Mickie, the rules do allow for your parents to stay here a couple of nights so that you can get adjusted to living here before they leave," Xavier said. Both Mr. and Mrs. Thompson looked at Mickie hopefully. Mickie hissed, amused, then sat down in front of them, wrapping her tail around her front legs. Mom, Dad, I'm going to be fine! she insisted, batting first at her mother's shoe, then at her father's. You two go on ahead. You've been planning that trip to Uncle Brian's out in Colorado for a month, so go! Aunt Lynne doesn't like kids anyway! She'll be glad to see you without me. I'll be fine, Mom! I swear!
Mickie's mother wasn't telepathic, but she could read Mickie's body language. "Dear, are you sure? I thought you'd want to come to Uncle Brian's with us."
Mickie's whole body shuddered, an eloquent refusal. All that snow and cold! No, Mom, Dad, you can go, thanks! I'll stay here where it's warm!
"You don't like snow?" Xavier asked her wryly. Mickie twisted her head around in that peculiar way cats have to look up at him. He chuckled. "Neither do I. Mr. Thompson, Mrs. Thompson, don't worry. Mickie will be fine. As soon as she's able to, she'll call you. In the meantime, you are welcome to call here anytime for reports on her progress."
"As long as you're sure," Mrs. Thompson got up, still looking a little uncertain.
Mickie extended the claws on her right front paw and took a swipe at her mother's foot. Not deep enough to scratch, but just enough to get her point across. She did the same to her father's foot.
Mr. Thompson reached into his pocket and withdrew a fat envelope. "When she got stuck in this shape she was in the middle of a major growth spurt. We packed for her, but we suspect that when she finally does return to her human form she will probably have outgrown all of her clothes. I have provided extra funds in that envelope for her to obtain new clothes and other necessities she might need. As well as cover the cost of obtaining extra cat litter and cat food…"
Xavier's eyes held a twinkle of amusement. "She does not eat meals as we do, then?"
Mrs. Thompson turned pink. "Mickie tried, but her form is that of a cat. Completely. Right down to the digestive system. She can't handle some foods that we do, so we've tried different cat foods until she found one that's almost palatable." Mickie drew her lips back from her teeth in an expression of distaste. 'Almost' being the operative word here, she thought. And other cat owners wonder why their cats don't want to eat the stuff. 'Choice parts', my tailbone! I'd go out and kill my own meat, except that Mom wouldn't like the mess!
Xavier laughed heartily. "She was just expressing her opinions of the taste of cat food," he said to the Thompsons, Ororo and Rogue.
Mickie's mother looked depressed. "But Mickie, darling, we tried to find the best tasting cat food for you; you said yourself it wasn't bad. Did the company change the way they made the cat food?"
Mickie shook her head so hard her ears rattled. It was good compared to the other cat foods on the shelves. But it's a far cry from your pot roast and Dad's steaks! She nuzzled her mother's hand. Go on, Mom. I'll be fine. I know how hard this has been for you. She licked her mother's face gently and batted at her foot again.
"Mickie will be fine, Mrs. Thompson," Xavier said gently as he wheeled his chair out from behind his desk. "Please, go on with your vacation plans. We will manage." Mickie followed the wheelchair out into the hall as the two pretty women led the way, back to the front door. She watched as her parents took her two suitcases out of the trunk of the car and started toward the mansion.
The shorter woman with the auburn and white hair took the bags, even the heavy one with Mickie's litter, litterbox, and several cans of cat food in it, from her mother. "We can take those, sugah," she told Mrs. Thompson. "Y'all bettah hurry if yah don't wanna miss the flight!" She stood with the tall silver-haired woman and the Headmaster on the top step, waving after the couple as the car backed slowly down the drive. Mickie sat on the step, one paw lifted, 'waving' too until her parents' car pulled out of sight.
So where is my room? she asked the three adults, tipping her head back and looking up at them. Please excuse me, but I really do need to use the…err…litter box.
Xavier smiled. "Mickie needs to use her facilities," he said to Ororo. "Would you take her up to…oh, I think room B2 will do nicely. I've been informed that Henry Keller won't be returning this fall, so if you would put Mickie's name on the door that can become her room."
"Gotcha, Charles," Rogue smiled as she picked both suitcases up and led the way into the mansion.