TITLE: I Get By

SUMMARY: After being rescued by an unlikely classmate, things get complicated.

CHARACTERS: Sam, Marie, Remy, Doctor McCoy

RATING: T

WARNINGS: Language.

DISCLAIMER: I, LithiumAddict, a.k.a. Percy O'Leary, am not in any way shape or form connected to Marvel Comics, Fox Entertainment, or any other related group. I therefore do not own any of the characters represented here. This is fan-fiction, and a labour of love on my part and in no way an intention to undermine the previously mentioned organizations or their intellectual property.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: You know, I never really noticed Samuel Guthrie. Ever. His presence in Evo was minimal, his 616 counterpart isn't particularly fascinating or prominent, and he's never actually introduced in the movies save for a brief mention at the end of the X3 novelization (For those who don't know, both he and Remy are introduced in the epilogue as teenagers, hence the choice to make them teenagers here). I then stumbled across Uncanny X-Men #341. There was something about his characterization there that just got me. I fell in love with it, and tried to mimic the endearing combination of funny, awkward, and just plain adorable in my own interpretation of him here.


Sam Guthrie was late.

Now, this was a first for him – he was, by habit, punctual to a fault. It was one of those things his mother had drilled into his head from the time he was old enough to understand its importance. As a result, the fact that he was running late today was bothering him to no end.

The fact that it was English he was late for was only making it worse. Doctor McCoy was more than patient when it came to seeking help for papers, but heaven help the poor soul that dared to enter his classroom after precisely 11:30:00.

Sam was, therefore, running through the mansion as fast as his legs could take him. If he were to activate his powers, he could make it to class within seconds and end up spared the embarrassment of being late. Such was the benefit of being able to cut through the air at speeds that rivaled military jets. Unfortunately, his control wasn't precise enough for him to avoid blasting through walls while doing so, which would lead to a whole other kind of embarrassment entirely. He was therefore currently running at a speed that brought him just to the threshold of his powers. Any faster and they'd be on (and mass chaos would likely ensue), any slower and there was no chance in hell that he would make it in time.

The home stretch was in sight - left at the next corner, down the corridor, and through the double doors at the end and he'd be in his seat with seconds to spare. What he didn't count on was coming around the corner and bowling right into someone.

The two of them hit the floor hard, books flying everywhere. Sam found himself on top of whomever it was he had run in to, and his mouth full of long, brown hair. It took him a half a second more to notice the white stripes and recognize who it was he had knocked down. It was the girl who sat to his right in English, and who had given him the grand tour when he first came to Xavier's.

"Marie?"

An affirmative moan had him swearing viciously at himself.

Shitshitshitshit . . .

"Sorry, sorry, sorry . . . " Sam babbled, spitting her hair out and rolling off of her. Gentlemanly instinct (another characteristic owed to his mother's tutelage) had him helping her up as soon as he had sprung to his feet.

"I am so, so sorry," he repeated emphatically, his imagination gleefully informing him what a terrible an impression he was making. "I was going to be late for English, and--"

Marie managed to cut him off before he had the chance to continue. She smiled, however weakly, while brushing herself off.

"It's okay. I was running late too."

Sam was down on the floor picking up books before she had even finished speaking.

"I really, really am sorry," he tried again, grabbing for a dog-eared copy of Hamlet that was barely within his reach. This only seemed to amuse her. She knelt down and started gathering books as well.

"I said it was okay. Don't worry about it."

Having only been a student at Xavier's for about a month now, Sam was still getting used to the environment and figuring out the social currents of this new world he had entered. Amara, a girl in his math class, had been instrumental in helping him get oriented. Part of this had been introductions to the majority of the students his age, as well as well as being informed of a few crucial tidbits of information and gossip that would help him maneuver the various cliques effectively. It had been unbelievably helpful, and as he reached for a black notebook by his feet he tried to remember what he had been told about Marie. Despite sitting next to her in English, he had never actually taken the opportunity to have a real conversation with her.

Focus, he reminded himself. Marie. What do I remember about Marie?

A short dossier was quick in coming.

Marie, last name D'Ancanto. Went by the codename of Rogue while in uniform, but had taken the Cure a little while back and had at that point been removed from the roster. Permitted to stay at the Institute after a long heart-to-heart with Storm. Possessor of one overprotective boyfriend. Her power had been –

Wait a minute.

Boyfriend. Overprotective.

Shit.

Oh, this was not good at all. He had just barreled in to, knocked over, and landed on top of a girl with an uber-jealous significant other. Sam searched for a name, a face, a shred of anything that might help him figure out who this boyfriend was and thereby weigh the chances of him ending up getting his ass kicked, but nothing came. He mentally crossed his fingers and prayed that it wasn't that huge Russian guy in Art.

He opened his mouth once more with the intention of apologizing yet again, but was silenced by an eerily pointed look from Marie.

"Right," he said. "Shutting up."

She smiled at this while picking up a large and unwieldy anthology that had narrowly missed denting the wall.

"Your name's Sam, right?"

He nodded.

"Sam Guthrie." Please don't sic your boyfriend on me, he added silently while shifting the books he was holding to the crook of his left arm so he could offer her his right hand. She took the extended appendage and shook it.

"Marie D'Ancanto."

Once they'd released each other's hands, a loud beep emitted from Sam's wrist. He pulled back the sleeve of his shirt to look at the time and sighed. 11:30:05.

"Well, we're officially late now."

Marie rose to her feet, books in hand.

"We should go then. Better late than never, right?"

Sam smiled grimly as he rose to his feet and joined her at the classroom door just a few feet away.

"Here goes nothing," he whispered while opening the door with considerable nervousness. As he did so, thirteen pairs of eyes turned to look at the two of them.

"Had we but world enough, and time . . ." came a voice from the front of the room. It belonged to Doctor McCoy, who was busy writing something up on the board.

"This coyness, lady, were no crime," finished Marie. "Andrew Marvell."

Doctor McCoy finished what he had been writing on the board with a small upward flourish before turning around.

"Very good, Miss D'Ancanto. You are correct. And for that, you and your equally tardy companion will not be faced with detention for your disregard of the clock."

"Thank you Doctor," the two of them intoned dully.

"Instead, you will be working as partners on the project I am just about to assign." He turned his attention to the entire class now. "Each partnership will be responsible for writing a missing scene from Hamlet. It will be minimum three pages in length, single-spaced and standard twelve point font. It may be composed in modern English, but bear in mind that bonus marks will be awarded for effective usage of iambic pentameter or blank verse . . ."

Sam and Marie headed for their seats, located in the middle of the room as Doctor McCoy continued with instructions. Marie reached hers first, turning back as she sat down to flash a brief smile and mouth a 'hello' to the guy behind her. Both the smile and the silent greeting were reciprocated by the auburn haired guy she'd given her own to. As she twisted to face the front once more, the greeting that passed between them and the fact that this guy inclined himself a little towards her as she did so brought Sam to the realization that this had to be the boyfriend. Distracted by his process of observation and insight, he nearly tripped over the boyfriend's backpack.

As he murmured something that sounded like sorry, he was awarded with a dark glare from red and black eyes that made it clear that a measurement had been taken, and that Sam had been found wanting. He fought the urge to shudder (there was a reason that God didn't use that particular colour scheme often, he reflected wryly – well, as wryly as one could given the circumstances) while setting his books down on the desk. What was the guy's name? He reached in to the library of his mind, looking for any tidbit that Amara had shared with him that might clue him in to a name, a history, anything. Robert? Reggie? Jeremy? He sighed as he came up dead blank.

Once safely seated, he occupied himself by thanking his lucky stars that he and Rogue had gotten off so easy. It was a little out of character for Doctor McCoy to be so lenient, but Sam wasn't one to complain when something worked out in his favour.

" . . . Mister Guthrie and Miss D'Ancanto's scene, however, will be performed by its authors on the due date. Period costuming is optional, though highly encouraged."

And there went that.

It was going to be a long, long day.

xXx

Class dragged on, and it seemed more an eternity than the actual two hours before Doctor McCoy glanced towards the clock and let out a regretful breath.

"It appears that our time here is at an end for the day."

Everyone in the classroom closed their books reflexively and started to rise from their chairs to go, the atmosphere in the room suddenly much more animated. The Doctor's reminder that their essays on the characterization of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern were due next class was ignored as the cheerful banter of the students leaving drowned him out. Sam was among the first to rise and leave, noticing the strangely empty desk behind Marie as he left the room.

Odd, Sam thought to himself as he walked out the door. I didn't see him go.

Once out in the hall, he glanced around to see if Robert/Reggie/Jeremy was somewhere about. He saw nothing, but . . . no, it was probably just his imagination. He wasn't being watched.

He hoped.

A hand clamped down on his shoulder as other students streamed out around him, causing Sam to start.

"Leaving so soon, Guthrie?"

At the sound of the voice, he relaxed considerably. It was Marie.

"Hey."

He turned around to face her with a rather rueful look on his face as she took her hand back.

"So. Project," she said, holding her books tight against her chest. Sam nodded and glanced over his shoulder. Was someone there?

"Yeah. We should probably do something about that." He shifted his weight to the left, a little uncomfortable with the distraction in his voice.

"Are you free tonight? We can get together and try to work something out."

"Yeah," he could feel something boring in to his back. Eyes? A glare? What the hell . . . "Yeah, tonight's good."

"Seven o'clock in the library then?"

"Sure." Dammit, he was being watched. Marie's eyes narrowed in concern.

"You okay? You seem a little . . . "

She made a vague, flighty gesture with her free hand. Sam shook his head, reassuring words coming out of his mouth as a matter of habit. They came smoothly, easily – the result of having way too many younger siblings to look out for back home.

"I'm okay. Really. Just a little tired, that's all."

Marie looked as though she wasn't quite sure she was buying it, but nodded anyways.

"See you at seven then," she said, walking off with a wave and leaving Sam (possibly) alone as she headed for wherever she was going.

The hall was empty (maybe) save for Sam now, as all the other students had since brushed by and scurried off to lunch. That sensation of being watched intently was still there, a psychological itch that was steadily growing worse. Sam didn't like it.

"You can come out now," he said to the hall, fully conscious of how stupid he'd look to any passers by. Talking to an empty corridor was not usually indicative of good mental health.

An agonizing fifteen seconds passed. Sam was about ready to chalk it up to good old fashioned paranoia and be done with it, and go back to his room in order to get started on that biology project he should have had done yesterday. He was taking the first few steps in that particular direction when someone stepped out of nowhere and in to his way.

Being just Sam's luck, it happened to be Rogue's boyfriend. Backpack slung over his right shoulder, eyebrow hiked up, and mouth drawn in a perfectly straight line, he was the dictionary definition of cool, calm, disaffection.

"Hi," he said, not knowing exactly what else one was supposed to say in this sort of situation. Truth be told, he didn't even really know what the situation was in the first place.

"Hello," Robert/Reggie/Jeremy replied. There was ice in his tone, Sam could hear it. And that whole measured and found wanting look? Still there.

The two of them stood staring each other down for a tiny eternity when all of a sudden, Sam's mouth began moving without permission.

"Look, about Marie. I'm not trying to steal your girlfriend or anything. It was just…"

And where the hell had that come from? Why the crap would Marie's boyfriend suspect him of trying to steal her away?

It was those eyes, he decided. Too creepy for their own good, making him uncomfortable and having him say strange things. Yeah. That was it.

Robert/Reggie/Jeremy looked shocked and opened his mouth to speak, but it snapped shut before ever uttering a word. His face was pensive now, and Sam had the distinct sensation of being measured again.

"Good t'know."

For a moment, Robert/Reggie/Jeremy looked as though he wanted to say something further, but settled for something that might have passed for a smile if you squinted right as he left the hallway for who knew where. To go find Marie, maybe?

Sam leaned back against the wall, letting out a weak laugh once Robert/Reggie/Jeremy disappeared.

Bullet officially dodged.