"Alright everyone, that's it for today," he said as he turned to the class. "Remember we will have a test next week on verbs and conjugations. If you need any help you can contact Dr Kitty here." He repeated the message in Polish, then Russian, Korean, and Cantonese. He chuckled to himself, thinking about the nickname the class had chosen for their teacher. He knew Dr McCoy would be livid - except Agent Brand got a kick out of it and thought it was sexy as hell. It never failed to amaze him how much the X-Men (and mutants in general) were welcomed in San Francisco. How the times have changed… I missed so many things. He was interrupted from his musings by footsteps in the corridor outside. Hmmm - female obviously. Long legs, someone light on their feet, athletic...
"The class has left for the day, come in," he said as the sound of footsteps abated outside, before she had a chance to knock. For most people it would have been unnerving, but if it affected his visitor, she did not show it outwardly. Opening the door, in walked one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. Despite all the changes they had gone through since they first met - or perhaps because of them - she still had an effect on him. She was dressed conservatively - for her anyway: a dark blue button-down blouse, a pencil-skirt that went below mid thigh, and strappy 3 inch heels. Her long violet hair was combed over one shoulder, but was otherwise unadorned. Doug glanced up from his class notes only briefly, fearing he would say or do something embarrassing if he looked at her for too long.
She leaned against the door frame, her arms folded and legs crossed at the ankles. He could feel her all but willing him to look at her. "I heard your offer to help Hank teach ESL went over well. I imagine it must be quite easy for you."
He chuckled, not looking up from the papers on his desk. "It is harder than you might think.," he responded, "I intuitively know a language, all its nuances and subtleties, but I still have to explain the reasons why. I needed to relearn all the rules of grammar. 'Because I said so' is not a good enough reason."
"Really?"
"Oh yeah. Tenses, conjugation, sentence diagramming, all the fun stuff I ignored when Kitty and I were writing code and getting kicked out of arcades. Scott's Medal means nothing here… When did you get back into town?"
"A few hours ago, Emma told me you were staying late for a study session. Do you really like being a teacher that much?"
"It's… different. I was never a front line fighter, so staying in the background and using my head was always my role. At least this way I get to be more than just a glorified archivist or a Babel fish, until we can figure out what to do with me."
Betsy arched an eyebrow at him, her only indication that she did not get the Doug Adams reference. "I understand the majority of students are somewhat older - is that difficult?"
"Many find it difficult to take me seriously at first - especially since I have no 'official' credentials. We only have so much pull in this city. A few phrases in their native language usually sets things right though. Of all the paths I saw my life taking, this was not one of them. It's really not that long ago that *I* was a student, and considered a weak link on the team. Now…" he paused, trying to articulate his feelings. "Anyway, I am glad I can help where I can, and anything to help bolster our relations with the community is good. Raising the island and moving there has made many nervous, and assuaging their fears is important."
"That sounds like Scott talking," she said with a touch of humor.
"I happen to agree with him - on this point." He stopped and turned to look at her closely, locking eyes with hers. "What do you want, Betsy?" When she did not respond, he continued "Its obvious you went out of your way to see me, but you are confused and unsure of yourself; you're afraid of something, and you don't like that," he said, then turned his attention back to the papers in his hand.
If she was unsettled by his observations, she did not show it outwardly. "I had heard you could read people better than ever, but I wasn't sure how true it was…" she responded, avoiding the subject. "I also understand your fighting skills have improved; one-on-one against Logan?"
"Who told you that?"
"I heard Miss Stavros asking Emma about it- she was pleading your case to be put on one of the field teams, or any assignment with her."
"Roulette talks too much - she always did. Can't you read my mind?" he asked, not looking from the papers in front of him.
"I would not invade your mind without your permission."
Doug only shrugged as he sorted through the pages on his desk. Taking that as an invitation, she closed her eyes and concentrated, reaching out across the ether to find he was 'hazy.' His mind was like quicksilver - and she found his thoughts almost impossible to grasp. She re-focused her attention, moving around to stand in front of him. "Look at me, please," she asked. Sighing, he placed his class notes on the desk and turned to her. His blue eyes locked with her violet ones, and nothing was said for the next several moments. Finally, she shook her head, and closed her eyes as she pinched the bridge of her nose. Sitting in one of the desks in front of him, she sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, rubbing her temples.
"You aren't there," she said at last. He looked at her questioningly, but before he could ask for clarification, she continued: "I can sense your emotions, and I can feel your general presence, but you are almost impossible to read. You're like a dollop of mercury or water running through my hands."
"That's interesting," he said as he turned back to his notes. "You couldn't force your way in?"
"I doubt that even Charles or Emma could force their way in," she answered. "You knew. "
"I suspected. Most of 'the Risen' seem to be full of varying amounts psionic 'static.' One of Selene's 'gifts,' I guess. Not going to try your knife?"
"That's for combat Doug, or sparring sessions. I told you I do not attack old friends needlessly."
"Is that what I am then," he asked as he glanced at her briefly, " an old friend?"
Betsy sighed as he returned to the papers in front of him. He was not going to make this easy.
Doug paused, looking at her directly for several seconds. "I don't know if telepathy would make any of this any easier."
"You can hear my thoughts?"
"No, the static goes both ways, but it seemed fairly obvious what you were thinking," he said, returning his attention to the papers on his desk. After a moment he spoke, "in answer to your other question, yes - sort of."
"Did he go easy on you, was he testing you, perhaps?," she asked, leaning forward, her voice almost… hopeful. Over what he had no idea.
"When have you ever known Logan to go easy on anyone?" he asked, rubbing his jaw. Even though his question was derisive, Betsy Braddock could not refute it. Logan did not believe in coddling anyone, and his training methods were aggressive to say the least. Logan may have been a trained combat soldier and an assassin, but he took his mentorship role seriously and was rarely surprised by anyone - Doug had been one of those surprises. Just thinking about their sparring session made Doug's jaw ache. It was ridiculous of course, he had been mostly healed in medical - broken bones had knit and wounds fully closed. The scars were faint, but they still itched, and thinking about it gave him twinges of phantom pain. Realizing he was not going to get any more work done, Doug packed up his things and turned his attention fully to Betsy. "Sorry if I've been rude, it's been an adjustment."
"What has?" She asked, lacing her fingers together on the desk.
"This, all of this," he replied. "When we first met you were a retired British supermodel, and I couldn't throw a punch to save my life. I always felt like the weakest member of the team," he continued, "and got my ass handed to me more than once. I was conveniently excluded from training sessions, or just told not to show up. But third class was still a family - we spent Saturday nights at the mansion watching 'Magnum PI' reruns with 'berto, and I was helping Illyana with Algebra…"
"You feel culture shock Doug, like a man out of time?"
"That's putting it mildly. So many things are different, and times have changed without me in just a few short years. 'Berto ran the hellfire club; Sam was like an X-Cop in Europe; Xi'an finally came out (no surprise there); Dani lost her powers, but kept the winged horse; Amara is still wary around me; Kitty was a bartender in Wrigleyville; Illyana's a totally different woman. And Rahne…" He paused. "About the only thing that hasn't changed is that my best friend is a sentient electronic virus from outer space."
"On the other side of things, Jim was a lot shorter when he wore that god-awful Massachusetts jumpsuit, Emma has supposedly 'reformed', and most of the other hellions are like me. It's almost like we're back in High School again."
"Speaking of which, I understand you have some past history with Emma's former students, especially Miss Stavros."
"Yeah," he said, becoming visibly uncomfortable, "you could say that. Our teams were like super-powered prep school rivals… you remember. Roulette's not as arrogant as she was, or maybe she's just better at hiding it - dunno, don't care. I don't want to spend any more time around her then I have to."
"According to Emma, and from what I saw, I happen to agree. The young lady does not feel the same way."
"That's nice. She's a user, a street thug from Jersey, putting on airs. Hiding her Atlantic City roots behind a fake veneer of elegance and class - a mini-Emma at her worst without the blue-blood breeding." He sighed. "Sorry, she's not my favorite person. I am still trying to get my bearings, to catch up on all the years I missed. She's always rubbed me the wrong way."
"Always, Doug?" She asked. "Weren't you a classmate of hers once?"
"Only because 'Manny,'" he said with disgust, "manipulated Magnus into turning all of us over to Miss Frost's tender mercies."
"Don't push all of your anger towards Empath on to Jennifer," she cautioned "I am certain that there was more to your 'relationship' than that."
"My conflict with Jennifer Stavros is based entirely upon her own behavior. And, as far as Manuel de la Rocha is concerned - he can rot in that cell... I am just glad he can't get in my head anymore."
"I never knew you had such a hatred for him, Doug."
He sighed. "That's the problem, there's a great deal no one knows about me - no one's bothered to ask. Everyone's got their own little box for me, and then they get pissed because I have the audacity to not live up to their preconceptions. Sorry - I don't mean to be so melodramatic. Anyway, my telepathic 'resistance' makes it impossible for new information to be imparted to me, like when you or the professor would teach everyone a new language. I have to learn all of it the hard way: reading transcripts, checking news files, good old- fashioned library research. We have gone through so much, mutants in general, I mean… Getting up to speed has been difficult."
"We are still the same people, Doug. All things change, friends come and go, loves are lost and found, and some of us have changed our looks… But we are still your friends, Doug. People still care about you."
"It's not that easy, Betsy. You went through some kind of dimensional, judgmental gateway - I remember seeing the chaos in Dallas on TV. I guess you were reborn or mind-switched or something, I was dead for years. I was shot to death at point blank range protecting... someone. Next thing I know I am crawling out of a coffin in New York. My old friends don't know how to treat me, and they're the only family I have. It's been years for them, only months for me. I have to crank the radio up at night or I try to decipher machinery noises, and I try to translate the wind whistling through the trees… It took me weeks to learn how to blink again, to shut out all of this extra data, just like you had to learn how to NOT hear everyone's thoughts. Now everyone is older, the mansion is in ruins, we are living on Asteroid M in San Francisco bay, and you're this hot Ninja babe," Betsy blushed at the compliment. "While I'm-"
"A hot undead zombie badass..."
Both turned their attention to the open door to see Jubilee, grinning wickedly and showing her fangs. She had forgone the bodysuit she normally wore, opting instead for some low-rise leather trousers with open patches on the thighs, and a thin crop-top. Accompanied, of course, by that canary yellow trench currently slung over her shoulder, and red mirrored sunglasses perched on her forehead.
"Isn't that kind of redundant - I thought YOU were the undead one?" Doug asked with a grin as she came into the room, her boots barely audible. Betsy noticed that his mood brightened immediately, and she could see his eyes had softened at seeing her. Apparently they had become close in the several weeks that she had been away. And she did not like that. The way Jubilee moved reminded Betsy of a great cat, seductive and scary all at once, and his eyes followed her every move.
"Undead, walking dead, it's all the same."
"And I'm not hot - just another bookworm."
"Oh I beg to differ, Brains…" She purred. Betsy could feel the girl's unnatural charm directed almost solely at Doug, but if it affected him, he did not show it.
"And I'm hardly a badass…"
She leaned over the desk, and set her coat down on the desk with an unnatural thump. Bending low, she gave him a clear view of her cleavage… "You, Brains " she said as she ran the tip of her index claw down the length of his nose, "are far too modest. You waded thru your whole team, remember? And MOST of us have seen how you and Wolvie went at it - Laura was very impressed, and she don't like nobody…" her voice trailed off. To Doug's credit he didn't blush, much.
"She liked Keller well enough…"
"That was a first crush, you know what those are like, dontcha, Brains? She is totally over him now. Hormones, arrogance, dark looks and the bad-boy attitude are sexy at first, but rich bad boys are total f*cktards-"
"That's quite enough, thank you Jubilee." Betsy interrupted frostily. Jubilee stood up and walked slowly behind the desk, tracing her hand across the back of Doug's shoulders as she did. Sitting on the corner next to his elbow, she turned to face the telepath. "Oh, Sorry Bets - so totally didn't see ya. How was Madripoor?"
"It hasn't sunk yet - what are you doing out alone?"
"Oh I'm a big girl Vamp now - I can stay out late and everything." She flashed a brilliant smile, her too-white teeth against blood red lips. "And I got a date with the Sexy Cerebellum here. Wolvie said its cool, and Scott is ok with it..." This time Doug DID blush as she reached over and ruffled his hair then rested her hand on his desk as she leaned in close. Betsy's eyes opened wide at that statement, but then narrowed as Jubilee again invaded his personal space. While women were still a mystery to him, Doug did not need to be able to read body language to know she was stunned, and jealous.
"It's no big deal, Jubes - I just got lucky-"
"Bullsh*t!" she said as she spun around to face him, punctuating each statement by gouging the desk with the tip of her index claw. "You don't take Logan on the mat, claws out, by just being lucky. Scott don't think so, Jim don't think so, and Logan sure as HELL don't think so." She opened her coat and pulled out two long knives in a curious looking leather harness. "These are from Jim and Box - not vi-vibra- "
"Vibranium."
"They ain't that funky vibro-metal, somethin' pretty strong though."
"Vibranium isn't metal ," Doug pointed out, "that's kinda the point."
"Shut it you, I knew that. Jim said you were good enough to get your own set o' blades, an' he said you need sparring practice, something about you being too reactive." She smiled again and winked at him.
Doug ran his fingers through his hair, staring down at the knives on the desk in front of him. "Never mind the fact that he could literally crush me to a pulp, I can't wear these openly," he objected. "Even San Fran's finest won't tolerate that," he said while gesturing towards the rig in front of him. They had to be at least 18 inches long - sharpened on the front edge and serrated on the back at the tip. A large fighting knife for a man James Proudstar's size, they were almost comically too big for Doug's considerably smaller, leaner frame.
"Wolvie and Cyke actually agreed on this one - Since you're back, you get to go armed. You ain't just a bookworm anymore, and we tend to attract trouble. There ain't many of us left. They fit under your shirt or jacket - I know how much you like that loose fit, over-sized crap. What is it with you X-boys and flannel?" She asked, rolling her eyes.
"What is it with you X-girls and low rise leather?" he said as he gestured to her outfit.
"This? Dunno about the others, but I think they look good. These were Kitty's old pants when she went D-hoppin' - said they looked better on me anyway. Watcha think?" She stood and spun around slowly, making sure that Doug got a very good look. As she turned to face Betsy, she grinned wickedly.
"I think if those pants get any lower you might get arrested…" he was afraid to say what he really thought - that they were the some of the sexiest damn things he had ever seen on her.
"No worries there, Brains. The local five-oh love us, right Bets? You could carry a bazooka in the Mission district and they won't say jack. Now no moping, take off that cardigan and put on your knives. We gotta date - in case you forgot - and Laura's waiting…"
Betsy was stunned - asking two girls out at the same time was not something the old Doug would have done, especially Logan's 'twins.' He merely shrugged and stood up. He slipped off the thin cardigan - one of the few possessions he had left - and reached for the harness, when Jubilee slapped his hand. Looking at her questioningly, she merely grinned and tugged at his shirt. Rolling his eyes, he pulled that off as well, while she gave him an exaggerated up-down look. "Mmmm - don't you look just… yummy" she purred as she traced her finger tips down his slender frame. Several faint scars were visible, including three large irregular circles. Doug could see Betsy glaring at the Vampire in the corner of his eye. Sighing, he slipped the harness over his shoulders and tightened the straps. He could feel the hilts resting in his lower back comfortably, just above his belt line. Betsy's angry, and Jubilee is really 'vamping' it up. He chuckled at the thought as he slipped his shirt back on, and pondered the unreality of the situation. What is she so pissed off about? It's not like we're dating or anything. I just asked Jubes and… Laura… out… aw crap. It occurred to Doug that he had, technically, asked Jubilee AND Laura out on a date. Surprisingly, they said yes. Even more surprisingly, Logan had not said no - just tried to beat him into submission. That sparring session and the smug looks he got after suddenly made a lot more sense.
Jubilee stepped back and gave Doug another, long, slow look. Even though she was very difficult to read, he knew she was 'scoping him out' as she would say. "Oh yes, definitely yummy, in a retro grunge way. What do you think, girlfriend?" She asked, turning to the doorway.
Laura Kinney, female clone of and pseudo-daughter to Wolverine was standing there. Whether her wardrobe was sparse or she just preferred a certain style of dress, she looked like she was about to head out on a strike mission. She wore a top that showed a thin, toned midriff, and low slung black pants were tucked into heavy, knee high boots with straps and buckles. Long, fingerless gloves that stretched almost to the elbow and the ever-present black velvet choker completed the outfit. "It is good he is suitably armed - we still have many enemies." She walked around, looking at him from all angles. Doug was starting to feel like he was some kind of doll on display, and not enjoying it. Finally, she stopped in front of him, and looked him up and down very slowly. When her eyes met his, he could see there was mischief in them - and something else, he thought. She reached over, and unfastened one of the top buttons on his shirt. "Much better."
"Now come on - we are sooo not gonna miss that new 'Ebony Slayer' movie, and Laura wants to go dancing after…" Grabbing him by the arms and using their unnatural strength, they pulled Doug out into the hallway. "Grab his bag will ya, Bets? And don't wait up," Jubilee called over her shoulder. Standing, the telepath walked over to the desk at the front of the makeshift classroom and picked up his messenger bag. It was worn, faded, and still had a patch on it from the school in New York, as well as a button from the Salem Academy on the strap - an odd combination considering his enmity for the school and Emma Frost. Confused, Betsy Braddock carried the bag and the sweater out into the hallway where she heard Jubilee's enthusiastic rambling as they walked out. Laura on one of Doug's arms, and Jubilee on the other.