So, this is going to be an interesting chapter. More character development and general hilarity than anything. See if you can pick out the events inspired by real life. So, so sorry for the delay in updating. I had over half this chapter written and then life got in the way.
Many thanks to my beta, Amodestpoet. He's really been a huge help during the process of this story. Where my knowledge base and creativity fails, his picks it up.
Please, read and enjoy!
When Emily awoke one morning several days after the gym fight, she did so with a groan. The urge to sleep in didn't strike her often, but everyone once in a while getting up in the morning was just a little bit more difficult than she'd like it to be.
Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on the viewpoint, Emily had long since beaten the urge to be lazy into easy submission. She rolled out of bed five minutes after her alarm went off and immediately jumped into the shower.
Alert and with wet hair pulled back to naturally dry later, Emily went to the kitchen to get the coffee started. Grabbing a hold of the carafe, she headed to the sink to fill it –
And was promptly sprayed in the face.
She gasped in shock and hurriedly turned the water off. Was there something wrong with the sink?
She frowned, and turned to faucet on again.
Once more, water hit her face.
"Well, that was intelligent," Emily muttered to herself, glad that no one else was awake yet. At least this time she knew that the water had come from the spray nozzle, and not the main faucet. Something was off about it too, she realized as she leaned over the edge of the sink to examine it. She ran a finger over the handle and realized that a piece of clear tape was holding the lever down so that whenever the main faucet was turned on, the water was automatically diverted.
The brunette straightened up and sighed. Now, who did it? There were plenty who could, but who would want to? 'Cause one thing was for sure, payback was going to be fun.
The cleanup crew the night before had both Bobby and John as a part of it, though that didn't necessarily mean anything. Someone else could have been in the kitchen before, or after, bed and placed the tape. Emily had come back to the kitchen after the movie and the conversation with Logan, but she hadn't used the sink.
Still thinking, Emily used the spray nozzle to fill the carafe. She didn't want to take the tape off, not just yet.
Not when there was plenty of fun to be had.
The first person to be gotten after Emily was a member of her breakfast crew, Jubilee. As was the requirement, she was attempting to wash her hands before helping with the breakfast preparations.
The squeal she emitted was near ear-piercing.
"Miss Emily, I think the sink is broken!"
Emily lost it, and laughed so hard, she had to hang onto the counter.
Jubilee recovered first and glared at Emily, grumbling. "I can't believe you did that. That is so wrong! What if I had been wearing my nice jacket? What if I had been wearing makeup? Both would be – "
"A mess and I would be laughing harder," Emily informed her, interrupting the long-winded female.
"How did you even get it to do that?" the teen finally asked.
Emily motioned to the nozzle. "Someone wrapped tape around the lever. Got me first thing this morning."
Jubilee stared at her as if she'd just sprouted another head, or even a pair of arms. "And you left the tape on? Why?"
Giving her a mischievous look, the older woman asked "Don't you want to see who else falls for it?"
Jubilee shook her head in amazement. She would never have figured that the human housekeeper had an inner prankster.
"Alright," Emily said with a sigh. "Let's get to work. What do you think, pancakes or waffles this morning?" She handed a large bowl to Jubilee.
The teen thought for a moment. "Pancakes," she said decisively.
Emily smiled. "Pancakes it is."
A couple more students filtered in, and Emily quickly put them to work preparing breakfast for the mansion. The entire time, Jubilee watched them keenly and she tensed up whenever one drifted close to the sink.
Finally, Emily nudged hard with her elbow. "You have a terrible poker face," she hissed.
"Sorry," Jubilee whispered back.
"Just chill," Emily advised. "It'll happen soon enough."
The girl nodded in reply.
Emily couldn't have been more right.
Scott came in and helped himself to a cup of coffee. Then he, like he sometimes did, began to fix himself a bowl of instant oatmeal.
Emily saw and commented "Oatmeal already? Must mean bad news for papers."
He snorted. "Just a bit." He turned to the sink, favorite bowl in hand.
Both Jubilee and Emily froze as they watched the painfully slow progression as the instant oatmeal was dumped into the bowl. He lifted the bowl and as he reached for the handle, he must have felt eyes on him. Turning his head as he turned the water on, Emily barely had time to register her reflection in the red lenses before the spray nozzle got him.
In the ear.
He yelped, batted the water off even as he danced away from the sink.
Emily valiantly attempted to keep a straight face in the following silence as a few students stared at the pair, but the woman made the mistake of looking at Jubilee.
Both dissolved into fits of giggles.
"Oh, you were so right!" Jubilee told her, gasping.
Emily just nodded.
Not even Scott's sharp "Alright, enough!" could quell the sounds of mirth escaping them.
Finally, Emily pulled herself together enough to offer Scott a breathless apology." "Sorry, Scott. Didn't know who we were going to get with that, just knew we were going to get someone."
He wasn't mollified. "And in the mean time, you thought it was ok to teach students to prank?"
Emily snorted, not thinking about how disrespectful it would sound. "Um, it was a student who started this. Not me."
"Who?" Scott asked.
She shrugged. "Let you know when I figure it out."
Shaking his head, the teacher reached out to pull off the tape wrapped around the handle of the spray nozzle.
"Wait!" Emily stopped him.
"Why?"
"Just think about it," Emily urged. "Don't you want to see who else we can get?"
The students following the conversation giggled. A quick gesture from Emily had them falling into a conspiratorial silence. All watched to see what he would do.
He crossed his arms as he leveled an unamused look at her. Emily took the fact that he stopped trying the end the prank as a good sign.
Whether it was her pleading look or his own inner prankster speaking up, Scott eventually sighed and used the spray nozzle to add the needed water to his bowl.
Emily grinned in triumph before placing a finger over her lips and making eye contact with each of the students working with her. She made sure they all got the message before Emily went back to preparing the next batch of pancakes.
In a relatively short period of time, all hot portions of breakfast were ready to be sent to the cafetorium. Arms laden with food and supplies, the breakfast crew cleared out of the kitchen.
Emily winked at Scott as she left with them, knowing he would be leaving shortly after her.
She dropped off the food and, as per her usual morning ritual, Emily returned to the kitchen to get started on the dishes.
Only, as it turned out, some of the dishes were going to have to wait.
"What the hell?"
XMENXMENXMENXMEN
Ororo Monroe, aka Storm, tried really hard to keep a straight face. Truly, she gave it as good a shot as she was capable. If she hadn't already been pushed to the point of hysteria by the fighting between the two supposed adults, Storm might have been angry.
Maybe.
Logan was giving a fairly good impression of a drowned rat, from the matted hair to the disgruntled expression. There was also an uncertainty to his movements as he shifted his weight from one foot to another. It was an uncertainty that she wasn't sure she'd seen before.
"Now, listen here – "
"Seriously, Logan? You got a little wet and decided to slice off the faucet instead of simply turning the sink off?" Emily cut him off, still ranting.
"Well if someone hadn't –"
"And then, you let the entire kitchen get soaked!" Grabbing a spare, dry towel, Emily threw it at his chest.
Logan grabbed it and glanced down at it in disbelief. "Oh hell no – "
Furious, Emily stepped forward, arm stiffly pointed. "Get your ass in there!"
He glared at her and snarled before turned and storming back into the kitchen.
Ororo stared at the empty doorway, shocked.
Emily huffed and followed the soaked feral mutant, fuming. "You're lucky you knew how to turn the water off before we lost the kitchen."
"It isn't that bad," he snapped back.
"Isn't that bad?" Emily's voice raised an octave. "The only thing worse is Florida during hurricane season!" One fist firmly planted on her hip, Emily pointed straight armed across the kitchen. "There is water on the windows!"
Sheepishly, he looked up at the panes. "Sprinkler," he gruffly responded.
Ororo, having moved to the open doorway to continue watching the display, was near awestruck by the scene she saw. She was sure that Logan wouldn't be letting the brunette housekeeper badger him around like she was if he wasn't embarrassed by what happened. The weather-witch watched as Emily's eyeballs shot up.
"Sprinklers? Sprinklers?" Emily stomped, stomped, over to the window and swiped at the droplets with her clean towel. Again, she pointed at the window, this time at the clear path her towel had cut through the droplets. "Yeah," she snorted. "Sprinklers. Makes total sense."
Logan glared at her, eyes in slits and short locks of hair falling limply over his forehead. "Alright, alright! You going to help me or stand there yelling at me?"
Emily's eyebrows raised again, but this time she didn't say anything. At least, not to Logan. Instead, she turned to Ororo and asked "Could you please send one of the students with more towels?"
It didn't escape Storm's notice that the brunette's tone was very patient and sweet. "Oh certainly," Storm told her, smiling. "And I'll let the professor know what happened. He'll send someone out to get a new… sink." She eyed the counter and sighed. "Will you go with? It'll be a perfect time to – "
"No, thank you," Emily cut her off. "I'd rather stay and take care of my duties here."
Neither Storm nor Logan felt the need to point out that those 'duties' were taken care of well enough before Emily's odd arrival over a month ago.
"Ok," Storm said, still smiling. She left quietly, shaking her head.
Emily smiled at her retreating back, and then turned to begin attacking the puddles atop the tables and counters. The chairs, too. "So… Logan…"
"Yes, I'll fix it." He didn't bother to look up as he mopped up water. Then, he let out a long suffering sigh.
As the housekeeper continued soaking up what water she could, her shoulders started shaking. She wrung the towel out in over the still intact half of the sink and a snort escaped her.
Logan's eyes cut over to her.
Not catching the look, Emily started shaking her head in amusement. "I can't believe you attacked the sink." Another snort escaped her.
He growled, but didn't respond.
"What are those claws made of? 'Cause seriously, this is steel." She lifted up one of the pieces, examining it with a baffled expression. "Not butter."
He didn't immediately respond and silence fell over the pair as they continued to wring out the towels and mop up more water. Emily was hoping the water wouldn't ruin the wood flooring.
Finally, he replied "Adamantium."
Shocked, Emily spun to him. "Seriously?"
He jerked his chin in a nod.
Emily knew what that was. Had heard whispers of experiments, but nothing… Blinking rapidly in surprise, Emily had to ask "Is that natural due to your mutation or – ?"
"No, it's not natural," he snapped. "It was done to me."
Emily leaned against the counter for a moment as she absorbed that information. Fear wanted to swell, but the emotion lacked its usual power. That kind of experimentation meant military involvement, even if only in funding. It meant Logan had a military history, a wild and crazy one, maybe as crazy as her own.
The question she wanted to ask hovered on her lips, but she couldn't bring herself to ask. She wasn't suddenly terrified of Logan, but…
At least he wasn't the Secretary of Mutant Affairs. That's a bit too public of an image.
Eventually, she let out a low whistle, allowing herself to be a little bit awed. "Your healing factor doesn't reduce pain, does it? Bet it burns through painkillers wicked fast too."
Not wanting her pity, he bit out "I don't remember it."
"No?"
"Nothing solid. Flashes."
Emily narrowed her eyes. Something seemed off about that statement. He was leaving something out, she was sure of it. "The surgery was that bad?"
He shrugged, gave her a pointed look.
"Right. You don't remember. Got it." She frowned. "Is it just the surgery that – "
"No," he said, once again cutting her off.
"Ah," she responded. It was hard to formulate a response with the churning mess of hope, relief, and severe anxiety rolling through her.
Thankfully, Emily didn't have to respond with the arrival of the teenaged reinforcements. Even Bobby and Rogue showed up, arms laden with absorbent cotton and some sort of shammy.
Logan took one look at Rogue and firmly said one word. "Don't."
The girl smirked, but did as he commanded and said nothing.
"Hot dog, got my HRTs!" Emily cried, pleased at their arrival.
"Hurts?" Bobby asked, confused.
"H-R-T. Hurricane Recovery Team."
More giggling erupted at the scowl Logan sent at Emily.
In response, she gave him a frank look. "Man, you ain't ever gonna live this down."
He took a threatening step toward her only to have her wet towel collide with his face.
Emily laughed as he yanked it off his head in time to catch the fresh, dry towel she threw next. "Let's get this place cleaned up."
The water was cleaned up in very little time with the students more than willing to help. Emily was sure Logan was going to be the butt of a fair few jokes, judging by the looks he kept getting sent. She kept her own to herself, at least until she had to start sending the kids to the utility sink to wash the dishes.
XMENXMENXMEN
He saw her coming, and even though she couldn't see his eyes through the red lenses, she knew he was surprised to see her. Clearly, he hadn't yet heard about what happened.
Emily being rather damp might be giving it away a bit.
She leaned against his desk next to him.
"So, maybe, just maybe, I should have let you take the tape off," she admitted. It was so hard to keep a straight face.
An eyebrow rose above one of his lenses. "Oh?" he asked. He sipped his coffee.
"Yeah…" Emily said. "Your buddy the Wolverine got hit."
He chuckled. "I bet he wasn't too happy." He gestured to her damp clothing. "He get even?"
She looked down and bit her lip. "Not exactly."
He didn't like her tone. Not one bit. "What happened?" He asked, already dreading the answer. He took another sip of coffee, hoping the smooth roast that only Emily has been able to manage would be a comfort.
"We-ell… the good news is that he promised to install the new sink."
Scott sputtered, choked.
Emily chuckled as she pounded his back with one first as he coughed.
"You're kidding," Scott said.
The brunette sighed and slowly shook her head. "I wish. Half of it is in pieces. The counter surrounding it will need to be replaced too. I think he and Piotr are heading out to buy the replacements." She snorted.
The teacher just stared at her.
"I just wish I'd been there for the actual event and not just the aftermath." She sighed again. "Bobby and Rogue became my lead HRTs."
"HRTs?"
"Hurricane Recovery Team."
The chuckle bursting out of him surprised them both. Then, Scott started to laugh. His whole body began to shake with his laughter and it worsened until he was forced to sit down in his chair in order to remain standing.
Absurdly pleased, Emily left him to his merriment as the next class began to filter in. She saw more than one shocked pair of eyes land on Cyclops. Emily snickered as she escaped out the open doorway.
She really did need to get back to the kitchen. She only trusted those kids in Logan's care for so long. He may be gruff and threatening, but Emily was all too aware to how teenagers could be when they were in a group.
As she strode down the final stretch of hallway to the kitchen, the brunette could hear squealing. Curious and just a little concerned, she walked a bit faster.
She stepped through the doorway and a sharp crack! was her only warning before pain flared across her thigh.
Rogue yelped and laughed as she ran behind a table, Bobby chasing her. Both held twisted cloth weapons. They were the only teens left.
But they weren't the ones to hit her.
No, the one who got her was standing in front of the mess of the sink retwisting the wet towel. He had gotten her with a rattail!
Emily's eyes snapped up to the grinning (grinning!) feral, his eyes glittering. Her eyes narrowed.
This. Is. War!
He must have recognized the look in her eyes because quick as lightning he snapped the heavy material at her again.
Yelping, she dived out of the way. As she moved, she nearly took out a table with her shoulder, but in the rising mirth and play she didn't even notice. Instead she scrambled on her hands and knees, aiming for a discarded towel. She was ex military. She knew how to win a battle like this.
Using a chair as a shield avoided yet another snap as she reached the towel. Her hands moved quick with muscle memory, twisting the material in a flash. She remembered when she finally learned this particular skill.
"Hey! Look at that! Kitten's finally got claws!"
"Don't try me, Richards! I gotta heck lot more than just claws."
"Yeah, yeah, I think you're all talk – Get off me! Walker! Walker! Help! Get her off me! Walker!"
"Sorry Richards, I am not getting involved."
While jumping on Richards's back had worked real well against her old teammate, Emily really doubted it would work against Logan. Not after that day in the gym and her bruises from that day still fading and the new one from her most recent training session still purpling. No, jumping on his back was only going to happen when she had no other option.
Towel in hand, Emily continued dancing around the tables, keeping them between her and Logan.
A sharp snap caught her ankle.
"That was Bobby!" Rogue squealed behind her.
"So that's how it is?" Emily asked. "Girls against guys?"
Logan's grin spread as he leapt at her.
Emily snapped her towel, caught his shoulder.
He didn't stop. He didn't slow down.
With a shout, Emily dove out of the way, yet again.
Let the games begin.
XMENXMENXMEN
When Storm told Piotr what happened, he hadn't fully believed her. It wasn't that he thought she was exaggerating or lying to him. No, it was merely that he thought she must be mistaken.
Logan could very easily cut through any metal in the mansion, but the idea was still odd to Piotr. Slicing the sink because he was sprayed in the face by the nozzle… it just didn't seem to fit.
Whether or not it fit, Piotr was given a job to do by Storm and the Professor. He was to collect Logan from the kitchen and take him to the hardware store, where they would purchase the needed supplies to repair the kitchen.
When the young Russian reached the kitchen doorway, he found that Logan was not examining the destroyed sink and damaged countertop like he was supposed to. No, instead of getting an idea of what supplies he would need, he and Bobby were teamed up against Rogue and the new human housekeeper hiding behind a hastily erected tabletop shield.
The shield was clearly a last ditch effort, thought the girls were giving it back almost as good as they got. Piotr could see a very recent welt already fading across Logan's forearm.
Finally, Rogue gave up despite Emily's shouted encouragements and barked orders. Then, Logan barreled through her defenses and Emily ended up weaponless and in a heap on the damp hardwood floor. She was breathless from laughter.
Piotr began to clap and the noise drew their attention.
"Oh man, I didn't know anyone was going to witness my defeat. This isn't cool," she lamented.
Bobby just shook his head as he helped Rogue into a standing position.
Piotr didn't watch them though. He watched as Emily pointedly ignored Logan's hand up and patted Rogue on the shoulder, telling the teen she did good. She even gave a fake salute to Bobby before warning him she would get even for sheet of ice she'd slid across and hit the wall.
Piotr watched Emily's easy acceptance of the teens' abilities and her nonchalant challenging of Logan. The feral may have won the kitchen battle, but Piotr doubted he had yet won whatever war had begun between the two.
The thin brunette had changed quite a bit over the last month or month and a half. Piotr remembered when she first showed up and how much she kept away from everyone that first night. She stuck to her room and only spoke when spoken to. It was just the adults that made her wary. She was fine around the children and clearly had no trouble bossing them around. When Dr. McCoy showed up, Piotr had been certain she was going to bolt, judging by her frazzled nature.
Now, she was still afraid, still wary, but something had happened between her and Logan. Something after the incident in the gym. Something that made her spend her time around him just a little more often. Something that lead to her begin training with Logan, at least a couple nights a week. She still avoided going outside, even to take out the trash, and never accepted any invitations to play any outdoor games. She was still wary around all the adults, even Logan, though she did speak a little easier, a little freer.
She was just different. Not really calmer, not really happier. Hardly any less anxious. He wouldn't have recognized it, if he hadn't seen it before both here at the school and elsewhere.
It was hope.
When Emily arrived at the front door, she was practically clothed in the same desperation many of the runaways that found their way here wore. He had thought that was easily explained by her UA status, something the students were kept unaware of.
Whatever happened between her and Logan, is started a little spark of hope. Barely there and too fragile to be any comfort, but it was a start.
It might have been a beautiful thing, but Piotr doubted it.
He couldn't place his finger on exactly why, but if asked he'd reply that it was because of Logan.
The least trusting, most hostile and gruff individual in the mansion could easily describe Logan on a good day, and he sparked hope? Where a gentle, trusting McCoy caused panic, a man who openly threatened her didn't?
Why?
It bothered him. Didn't make sense. If it was just a dislike of politicians, it would make sense, but it clearly wasn't just that.
So what was it? Was she being chased? Hunted? Is that why she was training? And if so…
Who was hunting her?
A/N: So any questions? And yes, the whole water thing? My father loves to do that, and so does one of the pastors at my church. I, fortunately, have never been caught. My poor, poor mother, however... yeah...
Any ideas as to who is hunting her? Frustrated she's remained so close lipped?
Don't worry. It's going to get real interesting real soon. Like, next chapter real soon.
Thank you, thank you to everyone who had reviewed, including: IJustWannaBeAHero, TeacupHeart, CrystalSkies14, Adrillian1497, Amodestpoet, ZabuzasGirl, and my anonymous Guest. I love you guys.
Thank you to my followers and those who have added this story to their favorites. I've noticed you all too :)
-Spirit
