Disclaimer: The usual, etc.
A/N: Sincerest apologies about the latest update. Anxiety can be a debilitating thing that chokes the life out of you. So, I hope whatever few followers I have are the forgiving sort, and I'll try not to take so long with the next chapter. I'll post ASAP this time instead of sitting on it stressing.
Also, I'm still looking (See: hopping) for a betta reader. If anyone is interested I would love and welcome the help, tah!
. . . .
Recap:
"Well, well, look who can't stay out of trouble." A voice floated from the foot of the bed. Seconds later a mass of green clothing and hair filled Kirra's vision. Kirra cracked a wide grin.
"Lorna Freaking Dane." She crowed, more than happy to see her old best friend. Lorna wasn't currently an X-Man or living at the mansion, Kirra had yet to see her since she returned.
"I can't leave you alone at all, can I?" Lorna smirked at her.
. . .
"It was an obvious mistake. I don't know how I'll ever forgive you." Kirra replied, glancing from Lorna to Kurt, both within her field of vision.
"Well, I suppose all I can do is hope for the best if you're going to be snotty." Lorna replied with an overly dramatic eye roll and shoulder shrug.
"Don't be mean, I'm injured!"
"Mere scratches."
"I lost over a litre of blood!"
"Trivial. Don't be dramatic dear."
"I went into shock!"
"Almost went into shock." Hank butted in.
"Pathetic." Lorna replied with a smirk. She gestured and an aluminium chair hovered over and sat itself down beside her. "Do you have any idea how badly I have been injured over the years? And your wanting special treatment over a few scratches that will leave quite fetching scars? Pffft."
Kirra grinned at the graceful, powerfully built woman before her. Her gangly teenaged best friend was gone, replaced by a stunning young woman.
"Listen bitch, talk to me after you've had a run in with Sabretooth, without your bloody powers!"
"God I've missed you." Lorna sighed in a rush.
The two shared a smile and started giggling. Kirra felt tension leave her back she hadn't noticed until now.
"I missed you too." Kirra replied with feeling. She had.
Lorna and her had once been thicker then thieves. They had been bunk mates. Lorna had only attended the school for a couple of months during Kirra's stay, but they had kept in touch. They had shared their fair amount of adventures together. Most people at the mansion had feared Lorna because of her iconic dangerous power she shared with her infamous farther, and her equally scary siblings. Lorna herself was lovely. (Surprisingly with her dad being a megalomaniac) But Kirra had taken one look at Lorna, sassed her and shrugged off her terrifying potential and family. Instead Kirra sore her for the person she was. After Lorna left the mansion she and Kirra stayed in touch and continued to cross paths until Kirra's year ended.
However, when Kirra went back to Australia they gradually lost touch and drifted apart as friends often do.
Kirra had both anticipated and loathed seeing her again. She was more afraid of the awkwardness time and distance did to friendships. She worried that they had both grown up and become different people. That plus all Lorna had been through would put too much of a strain on their friendship. Lorna showing up and bantering with her helped reassure her that despite everything they were still friends.
. . .
Later;
Kirra's POV
Kurt and Lorna had both left after spending an extra-long lunch with me. But both had other duties, so they had to retreat upstairs. Hank was keeping me overnight for observation. I thought it was ridiculous. All I had were a few scratches and my bedroom was right upstairs. I had been keen to sleep in my own bed and try to forget everything that had happened. However, Hank had argued to keep me in the infirmary as a precaution. The good Doctor had gently reminded me that my powers didn't help with the rapid blood loss, chance of infection and general shock and mental strain of the attack. Now that I thought about it he was probably worried about my mental health as well. Might not be his field of practice but I suppose he would know the signs to look out for.
I knew he couldn't keep me in the infirmary but was touched by his concern. Even if it was a little over the top. It was nice to know Hank was so worried about my overall wellbeing.
In any case I decided to use the time productively, and after Kurt brought down my laptop and a giant stack of marking, I got to work. I simply couldn't afford to get behind in my work or else before I know it, it would be getting away from me. Hank stayed in the infirmary squinting over microscopes. I wasn't certain but I suspected he was looking over blood samples of mine.
I was never a fan of hospitals with the sterile décor, annoying beeping tech, emotionally distant staff and the oppressive feel of ugly yellow walls. Doctor McCoy managed to breathe life and hospitality in his little world, filled with stacks of classic literature next to his science magazines, the smell of coffee and the sugar from his Twinkies and his hilarious science pun posters lining his walls. He was usually humming Mozart to himself as he puttered back and forth, and then would always offer a comforting word every time he came around to check my stitches, my heart rate, my fluid intake and my readings.
I eventually succeeded in zoning out Hank and the whirr of his various machines and got stuck into my work. I had a pile of poetry from my year eights, Friday had been a lesson on haikus. I also had a giant stack of panicked ninth years first drafts of their speeches. Along with another pile of half marked short stories from some overzealous eleventh graders. I had originally planned on doing these today and with Monday looming I ploughed on.
My afternoon rapidly transitioned into evening without me noticing. The infirmary is down in the sublevels, a part of the labs and didn't have any windows. So, without the alarms of class I didn't resurface until the soft pad of footsteps walked into my conscious. The doors wooshed open and a fantastic wall of smell walked in.
I had my red grading pen between my teeth and my blue one twisting my hair up, I had a nest of papers and around me in the hospital bed. I hadn't showered since yesterday. I was wearing an old faded bleached stained singlet, no bra and my favourite purple, blue and pink paisley day of the dead pyjama pants. My left shoulder was stitched and plastered with gauze and medical tape holding it all together. I was a mess of B.O, stink-breath and didn't want to see anyone. So of course, when I look up I nearly choke.
Remy Lebaou flashes a toothy grin as he struts in with a tray loaded with two steaming bowls and utensils. I blink in surprise. For a moment, I wonder why he has brought Hank dinner instead of calling him up, until he makes a bee line for me. I sit up straight, a smile stretching across my lips. I determinedly don't think about how disgusting I must look. It doesn't matter I tell myself.
"Hay stranger, what are you doing in these parts?"
Hank spins and glances over his shoulder, he and Remy wave to one another. Hank returns to his work and Remy makes it to me, still smiling. How dare he smile so brilliantly at me. Makes a girl feel all fluttery inside.
"I here to bring you dinner chere!" He answers with a flourish and sets the tray down on my little wheelie side table. Quickly I gather up all my papers into one big stack. I had made a considerable dent in it all and I would be done before bed, ready for tomorrow's lessons.
"Oh my god, you are fantastic. I'm starving."
"It be gumbo style stew, it'll put a fire in yer belly and a spring in ye step! You'll be bouncing out'a here in no time."
I sighed happily. This was one of the things I had missed about living here. Remy's cooking. I know it sounds strange but the man can cook a mean Gumbo, Jambalaya or 'gata stew. His possum pie was amazing. In fact, I loved just about everything he cooked from corn cakes fried in bacon fat to his fried chicken and waffle Saturday morning brunches. His gumbo style stew was an adaption from the more traditional recipe, it was a lot more toned down in spice, using pulled chicken and craw fish instead of all seafood. With generous helpings of black beans, chickpeas and lentils to fill it out. I felt my mouth watering at the site of the crunchy homemade corn cakes on the side.
"This is my favourite thing when i'm sick. I haven't been able to have it in five years! I couldn't remember the damn recipe!"
Remy just smirked and handed me a spoon. He then positioned the little wheelie table in front of me, pulled over a chair and plopped down with his own bowl.
"I left ours extra spicy. Know how much ye always loved the heat."
I take a tentative mouthful, blowing on the steamy chunks. My eyes slide shut and I moan in appreciation. Hank chuckles.
"Don't judge me! You have access to this every day of the week, I haven't had real southern food in years!"
"Oh I wouldn't dream of it! The very accusation is so ridiculous, bordering on the absurd my dear. Why I'm positively green with envy and shall embark upstairs to procure my own helping."
"Yer aint green, ya blue doc."
"Push off."
I giggled at the exchange.
"Thanks for dinner. You didn't have too."
"I wanted to mah chere! Gotta take care of our own ya here? Ya gave us all quite a scare."
"I don't really think I can be blamed for causing the worry."
"True, monsieur 'Tooth aint nothing to sneeze at. Ya did us proud facing him down like dat."
I blink.
"Not really, all I did was run away. Nothing particularly brave or interesting there…"
"Nonsense dear one, you had enough wits about you to act. And that is more than most. You escaped long enough and then alerted the rest of us. After all that you came out the other end battered yet so unfazed you have been doing work ever since. I positively applaud your nerve."
"Ah yes, my nerve. I'm so courageous, running away like that."
"He that fights and runs away, May turn and fight another day." Hank quoted sagely.
"yes but: Cowards die many times before their deaths."
Hank paused, not used to being out 'quoted' looking miffed. I mentally hi fived myself.
"Chere-"
"No all I mean is it doesn't take balls to run away. I'm glad I'm ok and nobody else got hurt, especially the kids, but I wouldn't call it brave what I did."
"What would you call it then?" Hank asked turning to me now.
I shrug helplessly. They couldn't be serious? Why were they making a big deal out of this? I just wanted to change the subject already.
"I guess I would call it an accident. A fluke. Whatever. It's not important. I'm fine, Sabre-kitty has been thrown out on his butt and I'm sure the mansion security system is being reviewed and upgraded."
The pair exchanged a look.
"What?"
"Well two out'a three o' dose tings are true." Remy drawled.
"What do you mean?"
Awkward silence.
"Guys?"
More awkward silence.
"Come on just tell me?"
"Charles considered Sabretooth too dangerous to simply release. And it would be too inhumane to pass him on to the MRD…" Hank began
"Oh no." I had a bad feeling.
"So the Professor decided it might be best…"
"No, no, no!" A really bad feeling.
"For him to remain with us for the time being, incarcerated in the sub levels."
"NO! Are you serious? Seriously?! This is the worst idea ever. Like, Xavier KNOWS this is the worst idea doesn't he? Like, he isn't deluded into thinking he can actually fix him? Right?"
Both men suddenly found the ceiling incredibly interesting.
"Oh come on! This is insane! Completely nuts! This will end TERIBLY!"
"Oui, probly.'"
"No doubt."
I throw my hands up. This, THIS is the reason I left. The crazy shit these people got up to. Damn it.
"Don't concern yourself with it right now Kirra. Focus your attentions on resting up."
"Oh my god Hank, I have a few scratches, I'm fine!" I huff in amused annoyance.
"You are in serious risk of infection, you suffered mild blood loss and quite frankly your so stubborn I'm worried you will break your stitches."
"Seriously?!"
Hank chuckles and begins packing up and removing his lab coat.
"Worry not dear one, tomorrow morning you shall be free to go about your business. For my own peace of mind I beg you this small favour. Stay here for the night. Now I'm off to procure my own meal, as it seems to have slipped Remy's mind when he brought down supper for you and himself." Hank adds with a light barb and playful glare. Remy loudly slurps up a mouthful and moans throatily.
"Didn' forget Beasty, ah didn' bring you non on purpose ta' get 'cha outa de lab. Stormy threatened to make me all static-y all day tomorra' if ah brought you some'ting."
I snorted a laugh into my stew. Sounds about right. I join in the over exaggerated show of eating with Remy as Hank rolls his eyes and waves us off. We snicker at his retreating back, the doors closing with a 'whoosh-click'.
There is a long pause as we both enjoy a few more mouthfuls of dinner. Suddenly I am fidgety. The realisation that I am having dinner alone with Remy hits me and again I glance down at myself and cringe. Once more I am forced to remind myself not to dwell on these thoughts. It doesn't matter how I look because there is never going to be anything between Remy and I. Any attraction I feel is probably one sided. Even if Remy and Rogue aren't together right now, they probably will be again in the future. The sexual tension between those two was insane. And if that wasn't enough, on a more sensible level, we worked and lived together. Those are two big screaming, neon red sign 'NO'S' in my book, as far as dating went. I don't date people I work with and I don't date people I live with.
The decision made, I look back up and see Remy studying me intently. I widen my eyes and shrug.
"What?"
"Not'ing."
"What are you looking at then?"
"Oh just this dorky girl I knew from way back. She now very cute."
"How dare you. I am anything but cute."
"Awww, say it again, but higher pitched?"
I huff incredulously. He was flirt/teasing. I buried the spark of pleasure that bubbled up. This is how Remy talks to everyone. EVERYONE. From Wolverine and Professor Xavier to Jean and Jubilee. I swallow down any uncomfortable or complicated emotions and focus on a simple meal between friends.
It doesn't matter how I feel, I tell myself a few more times. Then I take a breath, chew my food and swallow down my dinner and the annoying sentiment I don't want or need. Instead I decide to simply enjoy a friend's company.
"So Remy, I never asked: what do you actually teach here?"
Remy glances up with a suspicious smirk, that disappears as he casually takes another mouthful. I do the same as I wait for him to chew.
"Ah Teach Sex Education."
I choke and lock eyes with his snickering face as I splutter. Sonovabitch did that on purpose. There is a long pause while he just sits back and peers at me through hooded eyes and smirks into his bowl.
"Well that is shockingly fitting. At least kids will get a thorough education."
We both started giggling into our dinner after that.