A/N: Once again, thanks for all the kind reviews X-D can't believe this story is getting so much love. Glad you all like it!
-6-
Laura pulled away from the classroom door, having just witnessed something she did not want to witness. A student—Josh—embracing a teacher—Rahne Sinclaire—and kissing her.
Having been a street walker, Laura was not disturbed by the thought of intimacy, or embarrassed; however, she did know this was wrong. She had read the school's policy and
taken it seriously when Mr. Summers had given it to her; and it had clearly stated that student-teacher relationships were out of the question.
Laura decided that she would find Rahne later to ask about her assignment's mark. The girl, only a few years older than her, had given her a percentage grading she did not agree
with, and she had wished to question her.
Now was probably not a good time.
Disturbed, Laura turned, and made her way up the hallway. She had about half an hour before she needed to be in art class, taught by Mr. Rasputin; so far, she found the class to
be quite difficult. The instructor had started the class off with a 'take-home' assignment far too vague ('paint vhatever you vant'), and she had decided, after a while, that she would
reconstruct a meaningful event in her life—slitting Rice's throat. This had earned her an appointment with a concerned Mr. Rasputin and somewhat afterwards a slightly amused Mr. Summers.
Apparently, not all the staff knew of her background.
"Laura?" called the pheromone girl—Laurie—in a shy voice, as if she did not want to be heard.
"Hello," Laura said, turning her head.
"Have you seen Josh?" Laurie asked, smiling slightly. "He said he was going to meet me after class for coffee."
Laura nodded. "He is with Ms. Sinclair," she said.
"Oh," said Laurie, looking slightly taken back. "What are they doing?"
"Embracing," Laura answered truthfully. "And engaging in oral affections. The teacher-student policy specifically forbids such acts, I wonder if—"
She paused. Laurie had turned white; her eyes filled up. "JUST SHUT UP!" she screamed, releasing a wave of pheromones that set Laura's heart pounding, and broke the blood vessels
in her eyes as her claws popped.
They ran away from each other, Laurie towards the office containing Josh, and Laura down the hall.
…
Laura sat in the garden, recuperating. She'd had a hard time coaxing her heart to slow; the only times she'd felt so keen on destruction were during exposure to the trigger scent,
and the idea scared her. She was making—associations—here at the school. This event had reminded her how easily she could kill them all.
Voices—in the distance. Laura looked up; in the air, the boy, and Sofia, heading slowly towards the roof, talking.
"—you misunderstand." Sofia.
"What's there to misunderstand?" Julian asked. "Be honest, it has to be me…no one likes their friends that much, that they'll turn someone down if they really like him. Am I right, or
am I right?" His voice was quiet; this was a moment he'd meant for only Sofia to hear.
Laura closed her eyes, her expression terse. Why? She was constantly the fly on the wall today, even though she wanted no part in any of it.
"Julian…" Sofia said. "I care for my friends. When we are alone…I like who you are. But you change when others are around. You become mean, and selfish, and very
arrogant. I wish you would not. Otherwise…"
"Otherwise?"
Sofia stopped, as did he. Laura realized, in panic, that they appeared to be drawing nearer, to kiss; something about seeing Josh and the teacher—and the subsequent fear
pheromones that Laurie had applied to her—caused her to feel that the negative experience was about to repeat itself, and something terrible would happen to her.
So she bolted, tearing up a large piece of turf in her efforts to get away before she could be punished for this event.
"AHH!" the boy yelled from the air, seeing her out of the corner of his eye. "HEY! It's that--"
Laura was already gone.
…
"How's it goin', kid?" Logan asked, wiping oil off his hands.
He'd been working on his bike, an old Harley Davidson, and Laura had just slammed the garage door open, panting, her expression: not amused.
Although, when was Laura ever amused?
"I am not comfortable here," Laura said, her voice clipped. "There are too many social interactions. I have witnessed, in the space of thirty minutes, two intimate situations."
"Heh," Logan said. "Got yerself all wrapped up in the high school drama, huh?"
Laura fixed him with a stony glare. "I do not enjoy…this."
"Kid…it's springtime. Animals get twitterpainted, an' us humans are no different. Gotta get used to it," Logan said, amused. "Hell, you should dive right into it. I'm surprised
you ain't been targeted yet. Not that any of these little punks are good enough fer ya…but I been waiting to have intimidation talks, and you just keep disappointin' me."
"I do not wish to engage in such pointless behavior," Laura said. She sat down on the stairs of the garage.
"I think it'd be good fer you. Normally, I'd say—avoid it. But you, you need all the interaction you can get." He picked up a wrench and twisted the knob to adjust the head
size. "Learn from the others, kid…that's what you have to be like to survive in this world. To fit in."
Laura was silent. She stayed for a while, watching Logan work on his bike and answering the occasional question regarding her studies.
…
The day, however, was not over. Before lunch, Laura witnessed David and Nori have a moment of silent eye contact, the latter flushing; and then Cessily, as she watched a
boy cross the cafeteria. After a meal of keeping her eyes glued to her salad, Laura stormed off to her math class, now in a very irritated mood. She was early but she would
rather wait in an area likely to be deserted.
Who was at the door but the boy? Who looked very irritated as well.
"Move," Laura said calmly, as he stood in front of the door, his arms folded.
"It's not unlocked yet," he said, his lip curled. "Besides, I have a bone to pick with you. Why were you stalking me and Sofia today, Morticia?"
"I was not—"
"You sure as hell were," he said, his eyes glittering angrily. "Just how much did you hear?"
Laura realized why he was being so defensive. He did not care that she had seen them about to be intimate—no, he would enjoy publicizing that fact. He was afraid she'd heard
him admitting faults to Sofia by not arguing with her criticism.
"Only that you are 'mean, and selfish, and very arrogant'," Laura quoted.
Julian's eyes widened. "You…"
Laura gave him a cold look. "We are colleagues," she said. "I do not wish to discuss your personal life at any length."
"You just took a shot at me, you skank," Julian said, angry. "You are not any 'colleague' of mine!"
"I did not do anything. You asked me what I had heard, and that is what I heard," Laura said. She knew she had omitted parts of the conversation, but the words she had chosen
had seemed most prudent—and most descriptive of him.
"Well…" Julian shifted. He didn't know what to say to her, in response; technically she hadn't said anything that wasn't true. Laura annoyed him beyond reason; he had the constant
feeling that she was laughing at him, outwitting him in many situations, but it was so hard to catch her. She made it fit so well that it almost seemed accidental.
Silence.
He unfolded his arms. "Let's be straight. We hate each other," he said, trying to get her to take a stand, to admit that she was opposing him.
Laura smiled slightly. "I do not hate you." This was said truthfully, as the only people she had ever hated—and ever would hate—were Dr. Zander Rice and her handler, Kimura.
Julian exhaled through his nose. "Well, I hate you," he said bitterly. "I wish you had never come to this school, clone. You're not wanted here."
She was silent.
He kicked the ground in frustration and stuck his hands in his pockets. It was awkward to be stuck in the hallway with a person he despised. It would be even more awkward if he
attempted a conversation, after what he'd just declared. He wished she would have at least been big enough to be open about it, like Ashida was. She was very clear about her
hatred of him, and the feeling was mutual.
Ashida was easy to deal with. He knew exactly what to say to rile her up when he was bored, and she always provided a reaction. She was even willing to fight him physically
over some of his comments.
With Laura, most mean, hurtful comments he'd made to her so far seemed to go right past her; over her head. He'd only gotten a reaction twice, and they seemed more like
accidents. He didn't even quite remember what he'd said the first time—when he'd actually gotten her to punch him—because he'd been too alarmed by the spectacular nature
of her response. No yelling beforehand—no threatening—barely even signs of anger. Normal one moment, and psychotic killer the next. At that moment he'd instinctively
known that—had Logan not stopped her—she might have killed him.
Why did he keep trying to egg her on then? Even he wasn't quite sure, except he knew he didn't like her, and it was what he did to people he didn't like. He made his distaste
known. Why should Laura be any different?
He shifted again and glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes to class. Dr. McCoy had promised to come a few minutes early to help him with a problem on his assignment—one of
the 'brain-buster' ones that had kept him up till two last night trying to solve. He wanted the bonus marks.
"Ah, children, sorry I've kept you waiting," Dr. McCoy said, rushing down the hallway towards the door while juggling a large text book, a pencil back, a set of keys and a coffee
in his paws. He paused at the door, wondering how he was going to open it.
"I'll hold something, sir," Julian said quickly, consciously trying to suck up.
…
"Laura! Ms. Frost's asked us all to her office," Cessily said, at lunch. "Something about uniforms for the Squad. We get to pick them, or something."
Laura looked up from her pizza. "You may choose for me," she said.
"No! You have to pick your own! It's the best part!" Cessily sat down in the free spot opposite her, even though it wasn't her table. "It'll be fun. And she said something about
codenames too…we're all supposed to think of something we want to be called on the field. It has to be descriptive." She paused. "I think I should be called Mercury…don't you?"
"It is effective," Laura agreed.
Cessily smiled. "What about you? What are you going to call yourself?"
Laura paused now. X-23 came to mind; her old name, the name of a science experiment, of a monster.
Your name is Laura, and not X-23.
"I…Talon," she said, thinking of the child on the train, and the picture of an Eagle's claw. It seemed sufficiently descriptive.
"That's cool," Cessily agreed. She was silent for a moment. "We should totally hang out more. I mean, we are roommates…and it's so stupid to let a boy get between us, don't you agree?"
Laura didn't answer.
"Do you want to have a girl's night out with Sooraya and me this weekend?" Cessily asked. "It would be fun! We could shop, and go to dinner, and…" she paused. "I have
a friend who could get us booze."
"Okay," Laura said, sensing it was what Cessily wanted her to say, quite desperately. Indeed, her roommate looked excited.
"Yay! It'll be totally fun," she said. "Hurry up and finish eating, Frost said we need to be there by 12:30!"
…
The students that were to form the Squad stood in Ms. Frost's office, gazing at a spandex outfit laid out on her oak desk. Emma Frost sat behind the display, in her
leather-padded chair, with a clipboard.
"This is the uniform template," Ms. Frost said, emphasizing the t. "You will each be allowed to customize it to your own specifications."
Laura peered at the uniform silently. It was red, and white.
"This is entirely too visible for combat situations," she said, wrinkling her nose.
"I think it looks awesome," the boy said. "I'm sure you'd like us to dress in all black, Kinney," he said. He was doing his utmost to hold back to contempt in his voice in front of Frost, but failing.
"Yes," Laura said. "Brightly colored clothing have the effect of target signs."
Silence.
"Be that as it may, Ms. Kinney, this is the template," Emma Frost said. "You needn't worry about visibility at this stage of your training. Besides…our uniforms are made for public appeal. We
wish to appear friendly, not threatening, and psychologically, bright colors are perceived as more positive than dark."
"Bright colors are the choice of warning markings for poison-dart frogs, and most toxic animals," Laura argued.
"Kinney…that is enough," Ms. Frost said firmly.
Laura closed her mouth, frustrated. She had a great deal more experience than this woman in combat situations; why was her opinion not being valued as such?
The rest of the Squad appeared to be holding back laughter, except for the two girls; Cessily appeared concerned, and Sooraya looked as if she did not know what to make of this.
"Each of you will take a sheet of paper, and with this pen—and this template in mind—draw your uniform on the figure provided." Laura accepted the sheet—her lips still pressed
together firmly—and the pen.
She placed the sheet against the desk and considered the figure. She did not agree with the colors involved; therefore, she would try to wear as little of it as possible. She thought
back to Megan's wardrobe, then began to draw.
…
"Now, we are going to decide on your codenames," Ms. Frost said, having received all of the templates. She raised her eyebrows upon seeing Laura's, but said nothing. Not that
she was really in a position to, anyways.
"They should be descriptive of your abilities. They should be one or two syllable monikers that are easy to remember and pronounce. I will ask you in alphabetical order of your
names." She was at her computer now.
"Brian?"
Brian was a dark-skinned boy with dreadlocked hair. Jamaican, presumably, from his accent. He had been quiet for the most part; Laura had only been in close quarters with him for the
first Squad meeting, and he had barely spoken. He seemed to let Julian do the thinking for him, perhaps afraid of being found unfavorable.
"Tag," Brian responded. Laura had the feeling he had decided on it beforehand as well—and that the decision had not entirely been his own.
"Good. Jay?"
Emma Frost was now asking the winged boy, Jay Guthrie. He had been silent, too, but Laura felt it was more for his own purposes. He did not seem to like Julian either; and from the
boy's reaction—what are they doing here?—Laura suspected that he had refused an offer of friendship in the past.
"Icarus," Jay said. His voice was sad.
"Interesting. Julian?"
The boy, now. He looked pleased; he'd obviously been waiting.
"Hellion," Julian said.
Emma Frost paused.
"Mr. Keller…"
"They were your favorite students, right?" he asked eagerly.
Laura sensed Emma Frost was hesitant. There was something there…something about the name. Was it fear she smelled? Yes, yes it was.
Something bad had happened to her previous Hellions, whatever they were.
"The name should be descriptive of your powers," Ms. Frost said.
"It is," Laura said under her breath, her tone negative. Silence; everyone looked at her in surprise. Laura herself was surprised. The statement had no factual evidence. It was pure
opinion, and yet…she found she did not regret it.
"Burn," the large, rock boy said, grinning.
"I promise, I won't let the name down." Julian said, ignoring Laura.
Emma Frost nodded. "See to it that you don't…and then we will talk. Cessily?"
"Well…since I'm made of it…Mercury," she said. "Everyone already calls me that, so it won't be a big adjustment."
Ms. Frost typed it in. "Laura?"
Laura opened her mouth to say 'Talon'.
"X-23." Came out instead.
Silence again.
"Laura…" Ms. Frost paused, her eyebrows drawn together. Perhaps she knew of the circumstances attached to that codename. "This is a fresh start for you. Please…pick
something that will allow you to grow."
Laura ignored the eyes on her again. "I do not know if I will respond to anything else," she said. "It would be more efficient to—"
"Efficiency isn't important here," Ms. Frost said. "Not as important as it is for you to learn. Do you have another choice?"
"I…Talon," Laura said. She was not used to efficiency being the second objective.
The boy was watching her, his expression mixed. Was that curiosity?
"Very good. Sooraya?"
"Dust," the girl said simply.
"And Santo?"
"Rockslide. I was gonna go with Rocky…but that'd bring up images of the movie…and I hate it," he grumbled.
"Excellent." Emma Frost clicked a button, saving the file. "Children, we have accomplished much in a short period of time. The uniforms will be ready in a week…in time for the school
assembly, where you will be presented as one of Xavier Institute's first squads!"
…
Laura headed towards the girls' dormitories, disgruntled. These meetings left her with a sense of unease; she had still not formed an opinion of Frost; she was with people she mostly
did not like; she was being forced to wear a dangerous uniform; and now, she would have a different name. In addition to being paraded in front of the whole school, when she was
uncomfortable in social situations.
Footsteps, behind her.
"Clone! Wait up!"
She hurried down the hall, searching for her door, of the room she shared with Cessily. She did not want to speak to Julian; this would, for sure, put her in an unfavorable mood. She
reached her door and began to insert the key, but she was too late; he was already approaching.
"What was that?" he called.
"What was what?" Laura parroted, the door now open.
"Back there." He stopped, in front of her now. "A fresh start, Frost said…and you, and that weird name…Kinney, if you're going to be on my team, I have to know what's going on."
Laura paused. She had been correct; he was curious. Somehow, this question was bereft of malice.
"The details are irrelevant. My personal life will not effect your squad." She stepped into the room and began to close the door; he caught it and pushed against it, following her in
(despite not being invited). "Hey—I asked you a question! What was that all about, clone?"
Laura stared at him for a moment, now angry. He had succeeded in making her angry, by crossing personal boundaries.
"Where do you think clones come from?" she asked, her words clipped.
"…" Julian stared at her. "…well…I don't know?" Even now, his voice was defensive; he couldn't admit that he was making a blunder, that he was behaving inappropriately. He did not
take responsibility for his own actions.
"The details are irrelevant," Laura repeated. "I do not wish to discuss this. Please, leave, or I will remove you."
"Look…I want to know," he said. "I've been thinking…about how I hate you…and I don't understand a lot about you. You're such a bitch, and sometimes I think you don't know it. I want
to know why. I…I won't tell anyone." His voice was slightly lighter.
"I do not wish to discuss this," Laura said, her voice very firm as she turned her back to him to turn on her desk lamp.
"Please?" Julian said, probably the first time he'd ever said it.
Laura paused. "I am a clone. I was created in-vitero and inserted into a surrogate mother, who is now dead. I received tactical training at the facility that created me. And now I am here. Is
that sufficient?" She was angry, very angry that he'd forced this much out of her.
"So you're a science experiment," he said. She heard him folding his arms. "What kind of training? Did they treat you well?"
"I do not wish to discuss this. What I have imparted with you is far more than you have or will ever need to know." Laura turned around. "Go."
Julian stepped back. "Fine, fine, I'm leaving, jeez. Don't have to go all psycho on me when I was just trying to find out about you." He left quickly, snapping the door shut behind himself.
Laura sat at her desk, holding her face in her hands and wondering if she'd made a mistake, imparting even that much.