They Never Trained Me For This
Chapter 13
When in the course of human events, a young person's fancies turn to spring and another young person...
---nt
"Alex." Laura slipped into a chair, her bowls filled with granola and milk, and fruit salad topped with yogurt and dusted with wheat germ. "Do you own a suit?"
Havok glanced over at her. She normally would have said something about the amount of sugar and nothing else in his chocolate cereal and coffee cake; she'd never shown an interest in his wardrobe. "Why? What?"
She reached into the pocket of her tshirt, putting a slip of paper before him. "You need one. And a better breakfast- if you keep eating like that, you won't have the stamina to keep up with me."
He picked it up, a ticket. He'd forgotten that the tickets for the Sadie Hawkins dance went on sale yesterday. He kept looking at it. Oh man. He didn't even have a tie on the mainland.
At least one thing was normal for a Friday morning. He was getting grief for eating junk.
---nt
"I've been asked a favor from the high school- they would like a pair of chaperons from the Institute at the dance next weekend."
"Really?" Scott's expression was dubious. "Why us?"
"We are a significant and powerful minority population that is very alien to them. I think we can agree after the last few incidents, they may have a lack of confidence in their ability to keep order with our young people." If Xavier students hadn't wanted to show restraint, they wouldn't have. Everyone knew that they had been harassed to the point of taking it no more, especially after only one of their number had taken out several tons of jock in minutes. It had gotten better, but there was a feeling in some circles that the mutants had to be more a part of the school or gone. "It will help to show we are a normal part of the community."
"Like, I bet I can get Kurt to do it."
"Thank you Kitty, but they specifically requested no one who is a recent alumnus. And probably not Hank." There was still an unanswered question about a trashed chemistry lab.
Kurt sighed in relief. The last Sadie Hawkins dance he was at had involved devil dogs coming out of the wood work.
"So who does that leave, Professor?" Ororo stirred her tea delicately.
"Unfortunately, Mangus and I have to attend the grand jury for Trask next week. We will not be back in time- that leaves you and Logan."
"What?" Logan put his toast down. "This dance, does it mean dressing up?"
"A tie for the young gentlemen, but as adult members I'd like you to put a slightly more professional face on the Institute."
"Why not Remy? He could go."
"Sorry Logan, but Rogue an' I already have tickets for a concert. 'Sides, not right for a young man to go to a dance his cheri can not." Instinctively, he glanced towards the dining room entrance. Rogue skipping breakfast was rare- she must still be sleeping. Probably worn out from last night.
"Chaperons watch the dance Cajun, they don't dance themselves."
"Yeah, but where would the fun be in dat?"
For a paranoid moment, Logan wondered just when those tickets had been purchased. He felt like he was being set up. "You owe me, Chuck."
Jean chuckled softly. "It's ok Logan, I imagine a few of us can be just a shout away if the little savages go cannibal on you."
"Yeah, und you can keep an eye on Alex" Kurt's grin was slightly evil as he glanced down the table. Poor guy was still looking at the little blue piece of paper. "Kitty, I think you just got drafted for something special."
"Oh?" The realization hit. All that Laura owned for clothes were utilities and tshirts and some cold weather gear. When they'd done the life guard class last fall, she'd just gone in boots and all. "Oh!"
Logan groaned.
---nt
By lunch time, other tickets had been bought. Some were expected, like Rahne and Roberto- if that hadn't happened, people would be checking to see if the world was still there. A few were quite surprising, like the one that Jamie was handed by Danielle Moonstar. Even Multiple didn't have an clue that was going to happen, he had been beside himself in surprise.
---nt
"Look, Charles, I'll buy something off the rack. That will be good enough."
Professor Xavier shook his head. "Your contract reads, and I quote, 'the Institute shall provide any and all special equipment deemed necessary to conduct the normal and special duties of the Faculty and Staff.' Unquote. Have you ever seen me settle for 'good enough' for anything that wasn't supposed to be destroyed the first or second time it was used?"
Logan didn't feel right with this. This wasn't his part of New York City, this was where the guys who got paid millions of dollars to drink cocktails and lie to stockholders worked. A suit here would cost as much as a good bike. He could remember times where he could have lived for a couple years off this kind of money. He'd rather be someplace like the docks, or in the dives, or almost anyplace but here. People looked at him like a stray dog because of his jeans and boots, when they saw him at all. Fine, he didn't much like their type either.
He was still woolgathering when the Professor turned left to head for a doorway- Logan lunged for the handle. He knew that Charles could manage on his own, but it was an unwritten rule that you got the door for the Professor, not because of the chair but becuase of he was the Professor. "Ah, thank you Logan."
Charles wheeled himself into the small, brightly lit shop. This was where he had his suits tailored, had for many years. The needs of the rich had been served here, from flamboyant playboys to diplomats. The proprietor was an improbably tall and thin man- he looked like he'd been molded in clay and then stretched. The way he moved suggested he had extra joints, but no, only the same ones a normal human had. He was finishing with a customer.
"Of course, Ms Potts. But please tell your employer that if he is going to swim in red wine again, I might suggest a nice Korbin Kameron over the Joseph Phelps. Especially if he's wearing this suit- I think he'll find the hint of orange will go nicely with the cashmere." The easy smile was indulgent- he was used to the excesses of some of his more decedent customers. The redheaded woman laughed, thanking him before she left. She smiled politely to the Professor as she walked past.
"Ah, Charles Xavier, it is always a pleasure. All you told me is you needed something special."
"Yes Henry. My associate here needs a suit, a good one. And in a hurry if we could."
"Impatience? How odd." The man ran a practiced eye over Logan. "Your body guard?" The spider like fingers slipped into the vest pocket that fit the slim body perfectly, taking out a tailor's measure.
"At times, but always an old friend."
"Say no more, I don't need the bloody, gore filled details. Unless you gentlemen must indulge yourselves in reminiscence." The smile was unchanged, but they eyes had- they were ghoulish. Logan was pretty sure this man hadn't always been a tailor. "And you, Mr. Bodyguard, do you have a name? Please remove the jacket, I won't tell if you have something noisy under there."
"Logan." He shrugged the heavy leather jacket off. Looking around for a place to put it, he tossed it over the arm of an overstuffed chair. He wasn't quite ready for the cool, slender fingers on his skin, or for them to be so strong. He was reminded of that movie with the crazy candy maker, he couldn't remember the title. He was half expecting singing, dancing gnomes to appear any second.
"Tut-tut, let me work young man- if you move, you'll look like one of those sloppy Secret Service lads the President has. Brooks Brothers, Ralph Lauren." From him, the brand names common to federal agents and mid-level execs weren't so much an insult or sneer, but an incurable condition, both fatal and embarrassingly self inflicted. "No guns, no knives, no armour- a martial artist? Oh, Charles, so subtle, so like you, I think I'll like Mr. Logan here. You'll need it a little loose so you can move, but well stitched, strong. I can make you amazing."
Xavier tried not to smile as Logan tried not to squirm. There was a reason why they'd come here. Yes, the fabulous and important came here, but so did those who took care of them. "It is ok Logan, he is just... peculiar. He is the best at what he does, trust me. You'll like it."
"If you say so." Logan grimaced as the fingers roamed. "I feel like he's going to take me apart and see what makes me tick."
"Mr. Logan, please tell me that you will never need a pair of those horrid jungle pajamas that Charles has me make for him. If you do, I'll snatch him bald for crimes against fashion!"
Logan glanced down. The Professor's hairless dome shined in this light. Logan knew it had to be the baggy jungle fatigues that the Professor wore when he felt there was going to be a fight, a touchstone to days long past. Despite himself, Logan laughed.
---nt
"Kitty, have you lost your mind?" Laura stared incredulously at the shoes her friend was holding. The toes were pointed and pinched, and the heels had to be be at two and half inches, maybe closer to three tall. The points on those heels could be used for weapons. If she didn't fall flat on her face, her claws would be trying to pop out. "I'm not wearing anything like that."
Her feet were broad, and hard. They were feet that spent their days in combat boots, training in martial arts, and ran several miles a day if she wasn't rock climbing. She looked down at the feet of her friends- they had dainty feet, slim and pointed. Even Alex had she had feet like a guy, before he kissed her toes. That had been weird, but it had felt good. Sure, she could try to be girly, but she didn't have the feet for it.
Kitty giggled. "I wasn't thinking about these for you, and especially not before you picked a dress. "
"A dress?" Laura blanched. Ok, yes, this had been her idea. And she'd known that girls wore dresses to these things. For a moment, she wanted to find Alex, tell him it was a practical joke. Kurt and Remy and Bobby had been trying to explain the limits of a practical joke- she didn't see the humor. But that would mean backing down, aborting the mission. Normal kids went to dances, they danced. They danced with their boyfriends and she wasn't going to lie to Alex. She was going to at least look normal. "Ok, so where we do look for dresses?"
"Not here." The heels were put down. Laura was realizing what this was- an observation of a possible target of opportunity to be hit on the way out from the primary mission. They'd spent the previous afternoon looking at bags and jewelry. This morning, they'd started looking at more bags, and now shoes.
This was hunting. She could do hunting. Laura let out a deep breath, and smiled feraly as the others gathered.
---nt
"Hey, Alex?"
"Yeah Bro?" Sunday in the mall was not Alex's idea of fun. Scott, Jean and Kitty had organized a shopping expedition when it was realized yesterday that so many of the students either had (a) no formal clothes, (b) no fashion sense, or (c) they didn't fit. He'd brought a couple of dress shirts and some slacks, and he'd been among those protesting that it was the physical training not the good food that was to blame on tight collars and chests.
Well, that was the guys- the girls refused to wear the same thing they'd worn to other dances. Most of the guys would have been happy to go with the girls if they were dressed like normal, they didn't get it. Well, Roberto got it, but he shaved his legs to.
"I think I found the perfect tie for you." Scott was grinning as he held it up. It was perfect, a riot of color, tropical flowers woven into the fabric. Alex grinned back as he took it. "Yeah! Cool, thanks Scott."
Scott shook his head- sometimes sarcasm just didn't work. At least he was going to try to get the black blazer they'd found him fitted a little better tomorrow after school. Roberto said he knew 'a guy' in town. 'A guy.' The description was little unsettling to Scott, but it was just blazers and slacks, right?
---nt
"Hey, Snowman." Tabitha motioned her teammate over with a jerk of her chin. She was leaning against the wall- Bobby was pretty sure she had a class to be in.
"What is it Boomboom?" Bobby wasn't happy with Tabby right now- she'd dropped a plasma ball about three feet in front of him that morning in training, and she was playing her usual games with people's heads.
"Look, about this morning. I screwed up, I wasn't trying to get you." She paused, letting the closest he'd heard to an apology from her in a long time sink in. "But you better make my girl smile tomorrow night." She grabbed him by the front of his tshirt, pulling him close so she could whisper in his ear. "Remember, I know where you sleep. Kay?"
---nt
Logan squirmed in the suit. It fit, it just felt odd, he'd never worn anything quite like this. "I look like I'm from the Texas mafia." He ran a finger under the collar. A black single breasted suit of medium weight wool, his cowboy boots (freshly polished), a crisp, fitted shirt of purest white linen, and a bolo tie. The hammered silver medallion had a paw print- five toes, and chevron-like pad- acid etched into it. He had no idea where the kids found it, but Jean had given it to him 'from all of us'.
Someone had even reconditioned his trusty black leather hat. He remembered it the first time he'd tried it on, years ago. The leather had been stiff and cold, it had taken months to break it in. A few days ago it had looked a little shabby, but it was comfortable. Now, it was still comfortable and experienced, but respectable. He looked in the mirror- he felt silly, he was no model. The tailor had giggled at the test fit this morning. 'You look like you'd make some funeral director a very happy man.'
Logan had made a point of not shaving, so he had two days of growth, soft and dark. And no cologne, he'd just smell like clean Wolverine. That for being fancy. I'm no pretty boy.
Logan shook his head one last time, before leaving his room. A form lounged in the doorway across the hall. "What are you staring at, Elf?"
"A man who's going to have the frauleins fighting over him." Kurt grinned. Wolverine cleaned up well. The grin got bigger with the answering growl.
The others were already waiting. Logan knew about the origins of this tradition, he'd looked to see who Sadie Hawkins was. If these boys were in Dogpatch, they'd have to be able outrun Pietro to stay single. Even quiet, shy, slightly bumpkin-ish Madrox looked like a power broker in training. He knew that Scott and Kurt had taken most of the guys aside at some point, and Roberto had further told each one that if they looked like rag men, they'd embarrass him. They were sharp. But he wasn't exactly unbiased- they were his students.
The girls glittered like multicolored jewels. Jean and Kitty and Amara had done the same thing on their side of the house. None were more bold than Tabitha, her arms over Ray and Sam's shoulders- she'd bought two tickets again. Others were subtle, like Amara. But the one that registered most with Logan was Laura.
Her hair was up and styled. She was wearing makeup, of all things. At least she was still shorter than him, he didn't know which one he'd have believed less a week ago, her in heels or a dress. Right now, heels were impossible to imagine. Her dress was mellow, deep orange, long and flowing. The bodice was snug, and high necked with a layer of creame-colored lace over it. As he got closer, he could see it was backless. A set of gold bangles wrapped around her wrist. She was wearing flats, with open toes, rather than her usual combat boots. At least her familiar leather jacket hung in her fingers. "Logan. You look... good."
"Yes, he does, doesn't he." Unlike her students, Ororo Monroe had decided to shine as little as possible. She'd selected a dark grey skirt, and a matching jacket. Her blouse was a pale, periwinkle blue, the water silk seeming to ripple slightly in the light. Her hair was up as well, pinned in place with engraved wooden pins, grooves in the wood dark grained wood inlayed with gold wire. Her legs were bare, but Logan wondered how long she'd want to stand in those heels- he'd never understood high heels.
It was a Xavier Institute tradition, the photo. Prior to a field trip or a long planned mission or even just a dance. It was something that the older students said that the Professor had always done. Especially if he wasn't there to see them off.
It was almost like he was afraid they wouldn't come back. Most of the would have said that was crazy, they were the X-men.
There had been a little good natured debate as to who would take which van. The X-van was pretty and big and black, but it wouldn't have enough space for all of them. They also had the white utility van- it looked like an albino short bus. Now one wanted to be seen getting out of the other van, even if Scott was driving and he'd be taking the shame away.
The ones who had not shame, or were beyond pride, dragged their males to the less powerful white vehicle. Logan took the passenger seat, partially twisted so that he could see his charges. They chattered about the things that other kids did when he ran into groups of young people in public. He lightly tugged his hat lower, over his eyes. He was thinking.
---nt
Shadowcat and Beast stood watching the two vans pull out from the gate. Nightcrawler was organizing snacks for a movie night for those who weren't going to the dance.
"So, does Logan know you suggested to the Professor that we might provide chaperons? Or Ororo?"
"No, Mr McCoy." Kitty was using her innocent voice. "Do you think it is a bad idea?"
Hank laughed. "Having those two babysit a high school dance? Or that they do so together? I'm wise to you, Ms Pryde."
Kitty giggled. Actually, it was Jean's fault. She'd commented that Storm had been taking glances at Wolverine for a while, it was just something that slipped out at random. She'd immediately sworn Kitty to secrecy, but Kitty couldn't resist the chance to play matchmaker.
---nt
"Logan, if it gets too much for you, give a shout to Jean. We'll declare an emergency mission, land Velocity on the football field, head north." The students had already left the van, it was just the two men.
"Yeah... About that." Logan looked into the the rose lenses of Scott's glasses. The look was almost as tactile as one of Scott's with the shields off. "Don't even think about it. These kids want to be normal, let's give them a chance tonight. If it is that bad, my desk, top right drawer. Black address book, look under 'dirtbag'. Call Fury, let SHEILD and the Brotherhood deal with it for a change." Logan opened the door, stepping out. "Me or Storm will let you know when we need a pick up- use Snow White here."
"What if someone crashes the party."
"Then me and Storm'll deal with it- we're chaperons. Part of that is keeping them safe." He closed the door firmly- not slamming it, but hard enough that it was clear that Mr Logan of the Xavier Institute wasn't joking. He sniffed deeply- despite the poorly maintained cars, perfume and aftershave over applied, and nervousness, he couldn't smell anything like a threat.
Inside, the soft, tinted lights shifted slowly. Good- he hated strobes. The music wasn't his taste, not yet, but he wasn't interested in that. He looked over the knots of students. More were arriving. One or two he recognized from fighting with the Xavier kids, but mostly they were just ones he'd seen around the school when he was picking up or dropping off. The mutants were mostly in a group. There was some contact at the edge of their cluster, but they'd gotten used to keeping to themselves.
That part annoyed Logan a little. They shouldn't have to feel like outcasts.
Some of the adults were already talking with Ororo. They seemed polite enough, none of Kelly's bigots, but there was that special stiffness. He wandered over, to introduce himself to the others.
There was a slight cheer from all of the students when the DJ announced the formal start to the dance. Couples who were already close came together. Ray and Sam stood there, trying figure out how to make this work, while their date giggled that them. A few people just stayed apart.
---nt
"I didn't know you could dance." Alex flinched inside, he knew he could have phrased that better. He was glad for the unofficial classes in applied probability and statistics with regards to small group psychology and finance that Gambit sometimes taught. Yeah, real smooth Alex.
"I learned." Laura gave him her slightest smile, the smug one. "From Kurt. And you will not be jealous of him."
Jealous? He pulled her closer, possessively. His fingers ran along her bare spine. His brows pulled together as he bared his teeth and tried to growl, but his eyes were laughing. He knew she knew he was joking. "Jealous? Oh yeah." He kissed her lightly. "Is that why Nightcrawler was walking like he'd stubbed all his toes the other night?"
She blushed and snuggled against him. It was a very slow song.
---nt
It had been a relatively uneventful night. A few couples would dance, then they'd take a break as other couples danced. This had been the first time this many of the Xavier students had been at a dance and nothing had gone wrong. They were acting like normal kids, at least as normal as they could ever be. Logan was wondering what stories had been told about him and Ororo- the local kids seemed to be comfortable with her. He blamed the suit for making them nervous around him. Either that, or a lot of stories had been told. The list of likely suspects was as long as the rollcall.
"Logan, you've been scowling all night." He shrugged. "If I didn't know you better, I'd think you were afraid someone might ask you to dance." Ororo's eyes were twinkling with mischief, and she was smiling.
"I'm here to make sure they just dance. I don't even know how to dance." Actually, he was trying to scare people off. His nose told him that some of the lady teachers had noticed him. Horrifyingly, so had one or two of the students. The only real excitement was when he'd found one boy with a flask of the cheap gin, barely a grade above paint thinner, in his jacket. Dumb kid has some on his breath. An open hand and a growl had gotten the message across, and the booze had been poured into the grass outside. The kid knew, and so did the assistant principle now, but it had been done discretely- any embarrassment and punishment could happen later.
"I've seen you learn martial arts moves by observation. I bet you could dance if you were asked." She ran a fingertip along the firm line of his forearm. So she was taller than him, that was ok. She'd always found him handsome, but for too long he'd been on the borderline between civilized and something quite a bit less so. He'd mellowed as he'd gotten closer to the students, and then to Laura. She liked what he was becoming, even if he was a little rough around the edges.
Logan blinked. He thought that Storm was beautiful, but he really hadn't thought about a relationship. Not with her specifically, but with anyone. It just wasn't something he'd thought about, period. Yes, he admired and respect her professionally, and considered her a friend personally. And she was attractive, but most women were if they didn't have a lousy personality. This was a first in his admittedly dented and rusty memory, being asked to dance.
He wasn't going to ask about the punch- he'd had a glass, it wasn't spiked. "I'll probably step on your toes."
"Oh? I think the Wolverine is bashful." She felt that way herself, but there was nothing to be gained by not saying anything to him for another year. She leaned closer, whispering. "It is cute on you."
He flushed. A shiver ran up his spine. He let her take his hand, and followed willingly- he would not make her drag him like a dog on a leash. At least it was a slow dance for a change. Other than the one at the start, it had mostly been something he wouldn't have called music or dancing.
This felt a little odd- she was seven, eight inches taller than him, and her heels made her even taller. He was looking up into her blue eyes- a pale pure blue, like the winter sky on a clear, cold day in the mountains, her silvery white hair like moonlight spun into silk. He could feel her fingernails teasing the short hair at the nape of his neck. His hands were on her hips- it wasn't the first time he'd held her, he'd picked her up by the hips before in training or on a mission, but this wasn't the same. A part of his brain realized what he was thinking, and started running about in circles.
Across the gymnasium, Alex leaned down, whispering in Laura's ear. "I think Logan just made a friend."
Another student, not a mutant but a townie, murmured sotto voce, "Looks like the school ma'rm got the sheriff." Some of the mutants chuckled, but mostly the opinion could be summed up as either 'no way' or 'way to go'. There was even one or two 'about time's.
---nt
Logan stuck his head in through the open door. It was after 11 on a Friday night, so you had to be in your wing, but so long as you were quiet, lights out weren't for an hour. "Alex, wanna take a round with me?"
Alex shared a look with his roommate. They were both just relaxing after the dance, reading. Usually if Logan asked you to walk a round, he was going to chew you out for something in private. "Uh, yeah, sure, let me put my shoes on."
"Grab your coat, we'll walk the fence first."
Alex swallowed. He had images of chains and cinderblocks and the cliff in his head. He knew that Mr Logan had seen his hand on Laura's backside earlier tonight. This wasn't going to end well.
They didn't say anything further as they went out the front door. First stop then was going to be the front gate. They walked down the length of the drive way, looking for signs of anything out of place that might be a threat. Alex was surprised when Logan stopped halfway between the fountain and the gate.
"OK kid, if anyone ever asks, we did not have this conversation. You do, I'll run your ass into the ground every morning and have you doing push ups for lunch, got that?"
This could be interesting. A special mission? There were rumors about off the books trips, usually Logan with two or three students, but it could be any of the instructors. Just a few weeks ago, his chores were all in the hanger and he'd helped repack chaff and flare launchers- Blackbird had taken fire, and it was a mystery where or why. It didn't take a genius to know that the obstacle courses and tactical simulations and locked doors that had to be a foot thick covered more than just search and rescue, self defense and dealing with things like Apocalypse. As soon as it warmed up, they were going to start jumping again, and he was already being asked if he wanted to help teach a scuba class. He did his best to look casual. "Yeah, what's the op?"
Logan gave him an appraising look, one heavy with age and experience brutally earned. He'd seen that eager look before, all on people who hadn't been there yet. He shook his head, dismissing it. "Look, I can't ask anyone else. Scott and Kurt, they wouldn't get it or they'd laugh themselves sick, and I don't know what Rogue and Remy do for fun and we aren't going there."
OK, maybe not a black op. "Mr Logan?"
"Look, Alex, right now, I'm just Logan. We're just two normal guys." He grunted a little laugh as he looked back towards the house. He took a deep breath. Then another. "I know I've dated women, at least I hope I have, but I don't remember any of it. Laura hasn't killed you, so you are doing something right." Logan glanced towards the girls' wing of the house, to Storm's window. "What the hell do I do?"
---Author's Notes:
ACK! I just realized who will read this. So, Korbin Kameron is a California vineyard, who makes an extremely nice cabernet that runs about $80 a bottle. I actually think it smells better than the $250 Phelps- never tried that latter, only smelled the cork at a wine tasting. And lets face it, while any of us are going to shriek at the idea of swimming in wine that costs that much, Stark has the money. Waste of a good cabernet, though, I'd rather have it with an extremely nice piece of lamb or beef or buffalo. A little strong for venison though- I suggest a nice light ale instead.
If you're like me, you'll buy off the rack. Yes, custom made is a wonderful thing, but unless it something you aren't planning on wearing more than once or twice a year over the course of a decade, then a little tailoring to make rack bought actually fit you is a worthwhile investment. It separates someone who looks like a shlub from one who looks like a professional. That is why even t-shirts look good on actors- they are fitted by tailors. And why models all look like they came out of the same factory.
And Roberto should be metro. *snickers* I don't mean that to be nasty, I several guys who still are, well not 'metro', at least 'euro'.
Five toes with claws (sometimes the outer most toe is absent) and a chevron pad is the footprint from a member of the weasel family. The biggest feet in that family belong to the wolverine.
Remy's applied stats class is the floating card game you all probably thought it was.
Yeah... asking Slim2 for dating advise is probably a sign of desperation.
And Alex is right. Who the hell wouldn't look at the stealth, armed aircraft and the combat sims and the obstacle course and NOT wonder if it wasn't somehow tied into the covert world. Yes, I would send my kids there, but only if they convinced me they wanted to live that life after seeing what it does. Normal people, wow, what are they thinking? Did you even take the tour?! Maybe Mystique was right, maybe the are all just pawns and tools of Charles Xavier.
Oh, and something I didn't learn until AFTER deciding that someone was going to rehab Logan's hat. The word "chaperon" comes from falconry- it is the name of the leather hood that is put over the hawk's head to keep it docile. Neat, I love it when the jokes look like they are planned.
And what is it? There all these watches and all these alerts for this, but so few reviews. Come on, tell me what I'm doing right, and doing wrong!