10 Things I Hate About Logan

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Sure, why not? I take just take a moment and throw a message my way.

Disclaimer:

I don't own crap. I really don't…the characters belong in the Marvel home and "10 Things I Hate About You" belongs to Touchstone Pictures. So don't sue me.

Chapter 2

As Jean worked to navigate through the packed halls of Westchester High, she took a sip of her coffee, thinking about the university that she had applied to. Dad is going to kill me…I know he wants me to go to Columbia, but I fully intend on getting into Stanford instead…I just don't-, she jolted back into reality when her coffee hit the side of her face, scalding her. "WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!" she screeched to the kid scampering off of his ice slide.

"Ah, I am SO SORRY. SO SO sorry," he whimpered, trying to freeze up the steaming coffee that was dripping from Jean's hoodie.

"Leave it." She said, wiping her stinging face. The kid kept helplessly wiping at the now frozen shards from her, and concentrating slightly, she picked the kid up with her telekinesis. "Drake, right? I told you, leave it." The kid, Bobby Drake, winced in her invisible embrace, and nodded emphatically. Sighing, she dropped him to the floor, and walked away, ripping the overly cheerful poster for the upcoming Prom from the wall as she went.

"AH, Jean! I see we are once again posing the statement of how feminist we are by rejecting the ritual of Prom this year." A deeply accented voice spoke up behind Jean, causing her to jump slightly. Smiling, Jean turned toward to her dearest friend, Ororo Munroe.

"Ororo. Of course we are! Why would we continue this antiquated ceremonial form of sexism by actually attending?" Jean quickly hugged her friend, while using her powers to throw the now crumbled poster into the trash can.

"Yes. Another statement from us, how novel." The Kenyan born beauty chuckled as she bent over at the waist, gathering her white mane into a messy topknot. "Do you ever feel that we just might be missing out on something…something that is crucial to our adolescence? Perhaps that we just might someday look day and think that we might have missed something of cultural importance?"

"Ro, Prom is just an excuse for a bunch of losers to get trashed and rub up against one another, all while under the impression that is it perfectly acceptable. Forgive me if I chose to go another route." Linking her arm with Ororo's, Jean walked them into their AP Literature class, and stopped so suddenly, that her friend ended up crashing into her. "What in the fu-?!"

"By the Goddess, what?" Ororo begrudgingly inquired, lifting herself from the floor.

"Why are all of these mentally deficient persons in our class?!" Jean exclaimed, surveying the crowded classroom. "Uh…last I knew, our advanced placement class only had ten people in it."

"Well, it appears to have quadrupled overnight," Ororo responded, rubbing her side. "I suppose we should just battle our way to some seats, and hope that Fury knows just what in the hell the school is pulling."

"Son of a bi…" Jean trailed off has she locked stares with Warren Worthington III, who in turn sneered boldly at the redhead. Shaking her head rapidly, she stammered, "No. No. No, I am not going in there with that piece of blonde excrement."

Rolling her whitening eyes, Ororo gestured with her hand, and in an instant the African teenager had the seraph winged mutant in the air with a violent wind gust and tossed him across the room. Warren caught himself by extending his wings, and was about to launch himself at her, when a booming voice echoed through the room. "Just what in the hell is going on here? Wing boy, get your ass in a chair this instant. Jesus H. Christ." Stalking through the doorway, Dr. Nicolas Fury managed to stare down the room with his single good eye. Wilting in his menacing glare, all of the students slowly sank into various desks, the floor, and in one case, the fish tank in the rear of the room.

"Listen up. Once again because of budget cuts, the powers that be have decided that combining the idiots in basic college prep and the smarter fuckers in the advanced placement into one class would be a good damn idea. Now, I see that as a disaster in the making, but I don't make the damn decisions. So, this is how it's going to be. I am going to continue to teach on the AP level, and the rest of you are going to have to learn to catch up. I refuse to talk down to any of you fools."

Stifling a laugh, Ororo leaned over and whispered into Jean's ear, "This is going to be amusing." Paling slightly, Jean whispered back, "Yeah, but we are now stuck in a class with Warren. This is NOT how I wanted to spend the rest of my senior year."

"Yes, however, it will be funny to watch him struggle with the material. Can you imagine him reading anything without pictures?" Ororo chuckled quietly. As the vision of Warren Worthington III holding a book sideways, trying desperately to figure out the script, popped into her head, Jean laughed.

"So, let's play catch up to those that have not read F. Scott Fitzgerald's 'The Great Gatsby'. Dr. Fury said, as he scooped up a stack of books from his desk. Students began to duck while he started to chunk copies toward random places around the room. "My students that have read it, can you please give the rest of the class some feedback on what is considered 'The Great American Novel'.

"Oh my God. It was so romantic! Everything that Gatsby did was from love for Daisy! It was so sad that he died and Daisy had to go back to that stupid cheating Tom!" an Asian girl with short spikey hair said.

"Oh, can it, Jubilee! Did you actually read it? Daisy single handedly set back feminism a century by being a spoiled kept woman that who was so much of a coward of change, she stayed with a man that coveted her like a piece of property! Jay Gatsby stayed by the phone, waiting for her to call, and didn't…she ran back to Tom like a trained puppy!" Jean fumed, standing up. "And don't EVEN get me started on Fitzgerald himself. He was an inadequate piece of shit that used his marriage as fodder for his stories! Whenever Zelda tried to write anything, he condemned her into such a state, she spent most of her either in a bottle or in an insane asylum. Their entire marriage was full of resentment. Why can't we read 'Save Me the Waltz'? Then at least we could see her point of view!" holding up the book, she looked pointedly at Dr. Fury.

"Dude. I remember Zelda. That game was a bitch!" a voice piped up from the back of the room.

"Are you serious? Please. PLEASE tell me that you are just fucking with me!" Jean snapped, spinning around.

"Girl, get yourself together, and sit your butt down. And whoever said that idiotic comment can just get the fuck out of my class this instant, unless you can keep your trap shut." Dr. Fury roared, and a low pitched meep sounded from the back as an answer.

"Are you really treating me like a hysterical little girl? That the answer is for me to remain quiet and not have a voice? Why are we reading this crap? Why can't we read anything by Kate Chopin? Gloria Steinem? Maya Angelou?" the redhead crossed her arms in defiance.

"White girl, you KNOW you don't wanna get into this argument with me. Why don't you call the school district board and ask them to add an African-American book that is not 'Uncle Tom's Cabin' to the curriculum? Why can't students read books by W.E.B. Du Bois? Langston Hughes? I will take your Gloria Steinem, and raise you a Malcom X! I get that the system is screwed, so how 'bout instead attacking a fellow passenger in this boat, you go after the sharks circling?" Before Jean could come back with a response, Logan Howlett slammed open the door and glanced around the crowded room.

"Shit. What in the hell happened in here?" Logan asked, cocking a thick eyebrow.

Jean turned toward the wild haired teen and gestured wildly. "We are just discussing the pathetic way that the Caucasian patriarchal society likes to make the younger generation drink the Kool-Aid of ignorance."

"Oh. So, nothing new then." Logan shouldered his messenger bag, and went back out the door, slamming it behind him.

"What the hell?!" Dr. Fury started over to the door, when Warren spoke up. "Is Jean PMSing again? "Cuz I am sure they got some meds for that."

Turning around, the teacher addressed the winged mutant, "Yo, blondie. You need to keep your mouth shut, or someone's going to do it for you. As far as your stupidity, I'm sure there ain't shit out there to cure it."

Jean glowered at Warren until Fury turned back toward her. "And as for you, Miss Xavier, why don't you get your political protesting ass out of my class. You're pissing me off, and while most days I have patience for it…amid the chaos, I don't have time for shit today. Go lecture about your current injustice to Ms. Darkholme."

Jean paled and clinched her jaw in anger, when she felt a soft tug from her friend on the floor. She glanced down and locked eyes with Ororo's blue ones, who slowly shook her head. "Just go," she mouthed. Jean hesitated, and then nodded. "Yeah, you're right." Ororo handed Jean her messenger bag, and the redhead turned toward the door. Just as she was about to leave, she shot her hand behind her and a copy of 'The Great Gatsby' flew up from the floor and hit Warren squarely in the face. The classroom door that slammed shut behind her muffled the yell.

Jean stood outside of the school counselor's office, stifling a laugh. Inside Raven Darkholme was writing what Jean concluded to be a mercenary/mommy porn/spy novel that appeared to take place on the southern Asian island of Madripoor. The psychic train of thought from the office was just begging to be heard.

"Crossing the room, the international assassin known enigmatically as Viper longed not only to be known for her deadly touch, but also that of a woman in heat. Donned in only part of his silver samurai armour, Kenuichio Harada met the green haired executioner midway. Reaching up, he pulled at the chopsticks holding her green tresses when she moaned and grabbed at his wrist. 'Careful, my lover…the tips are poisoned…' Viper whispered.

'Of course they would be my deadly slayer. I would not expect anything less from you.' Harada breathed into her ear, slowly dropping the infected items. Twisting her silken tresses in his hand, he yanked back her head, exposing the milky flesh of her throat. Whimpering, Viper ran her palm down the side of his fit torso, leading into his –"

The stream of the consciousness broke up suddenly when Jean finally could not keep the laugher in anymore, and the door of the office was flung open. Looking into the annoyance that the blue woman's conveyed, Jean fell into another fit of giggles.

"Miss Xavier. Surprise, surprise, surprise. Unless this is a visitation of merriment, of which I doubt, I would assume that you are terrorizing yet another class?"

Jean gathered herself together, enough to step inside of the hideously decorated office. Settling into the chair before the overcrowded desk, Jean said, "It's not considered a terrorist act when I am just simply stating my opinion. How is it my fault that people consider change dangerous? Actually, I would think that you would want to address the fact that people are so ignorant that they refuse to move with the times? Must we be stuck in 1952?"

Ms. Darkholme stared intently at the adolescent as she moved behind the desk to set down. Closing her laptop, she leaned forward and said, "Jean, has it ever occurred to you that perhaps you might be going about things the wrong way? After all, you have developed quite the reputation as, well,"

"Impassioned?" Jean put in.

"No. Psychotic abominable bitch is closer to it. And to answer your previous question, we have in fact moved way past the close mindedness of the 50's. In terms of rights, minorities have made great strides over the years. Even rights for homo sapien superior have come along, perhaps not as much as we would like, but it is a hell of a lot better than it was years ago."

"Well, what do you expect me to do? Just sit there and take it?" Jean asked.

"No, but you can go about it in a more positive way. Trust me; no one understands more how people can just be complete shitheads. Back in the 60's and 70's your father and I fought the good fight. Those first steps were always the hardest. In fact, I do see a lot of Charles in you…how is he doing these days?" Ms. Darkholme tilted her head and locked eyes with Jean.

Jean startled, she had forgotten that her school counselor and father had once been very close friends, and had actually helped to pave the way for mutant peace with humans. "Uh…he's good. You know, as well as he can after Mom left. He just got back from Oxford where he gave a speech on the impact of global warming in the Savage Land. He discovered that radiation from greenhouse gases that has been released into the atmosphere have tampered with the technology that the Nuwali placed to maintain the area in Antarctica. He will be leaving again after graduation to do another lecture circuit on the emergences of secondary mutation…I believe that was spurred on by Emma's."

The older woman nodded, "Yes, your sister can now assume a diamond form, in addition to her telepathy, correct?"

"Yeah. Dad's been freaking out because he cannot read her while she is that form, but then she cannot use her telepathy either. It's actually kind of funny." Jean said.

Raven Darkholme leaned back into her chair, and slowly sipped some coffee. "Oh, in case you were interested, Wade Wilson's, ah, wobbly bits have grown back…well, more or less…so it would seem that your behavour today has been quite mild compared to some of your, ah…earlier actions."

"Wade is a pervert and ripped his own "wobbly bits" off. I still maintain that is what happened." Jean responded, a slight smile forming on her face.

"Well, in any case, can you just hold it together until you graduate? Can you keep the bloodshed to a minimum? I'm honestly tired of all of the damn paperwork." Darkholme sighed, lifting up thick folder. "This is all of your violent antics in physical form. So, let's just keep it down for a bit, huh?"

Taking a deep breath, Jean gathered her bag, and stood up. "Sure, Ms. Darkholme. Of course, it would be easier if the morons that attend the school could just vanish, but hey, that's my problem. So, I'm gonna go, and you can get back to Viper polishing Harada's sword." She winked and strolled out of the office, leaving Darkholme with a look of inspiration crossing her features as she scrambled for her laptop.

Author's Notes:

Thanks for all of the positive reviews :)

Sorry about all of the cussing…some people are good with the 'slash' stuff; I favour more toward the characters with foul mouths.