DISCLAIMER!!! X-Men belongs to Marvel and X-Men Evolution to the WB. I own only Dan and Fiona, and I ask you kindly not to steal them. x_X;;; A warning. This fic is RATED R for a reason. Contained within (in no particular order) are language, violence, and drugs. You shouldn't be reading this if you're under 13. You probably shouldn't be reading this if you /are/ 13. Let's just say you've been dually warned.
It seems so frightening
Time passes like lightning
Before you know it you're struck down
I always waste my time on my chemical emotions
It keeps my head spinning around
And waste away.
-Green Day, Android
"Don't sweat it, man," Evan told Dan as they walked through the hallways of the Institute, later that night, "Scott's a nice guy when you get to know him."
"He, uh, didn't sound like it," Dan said, holding his backpack, which contained his meager possessions in it, over his shoulders.
"He's just a bit, a bit suspicious. Sometimes. Okay. All the time," Evan said, and opened a door. "But it's just because... he cares about the team."
"Team," Dan repeated.
"Uh, that's what it's called."
"No offense but that's, um, kind of gay."
Evan rolled his eyes. "Welcome to the Xavier Institute, my friend."
"Thanks."
"Well, this will be your cell for the duration of your stay," Evan said, glancing into the room, "Breakfast's at seven, don't go into the danger room unless someone else knows you're there, other than that the house rules are basically the same as anywhere else."
"Sooo..." Dan said, dropping his bag on the chair, "No wild parties, no sex, no drugs?"
Evan coughed into his hand. "Wild parties in the Xavier Institute are sort of like... like... some sort of unlikely thing."
"Some sort of unlikely thing?"
"Hey, witty conversation isn't my strong point, all right?" Evan said. "That's Rogue's job."
"Right," Dan said, "I'll remember that, if I've a desire to mince words."
"Er, bad idea," Evan said, shaking his head and moving his hands emphatically, "Unless you want to wake up with a headache."
"...Right. I see I've got a lot to learn about this place."
"Don't worry, you'll fit in soon," Evan said, and nodded. "If you need anything, yell. Don't yodel. Iceman tried that, as a joke, at three o'clock in the morning, and I think Logan was ready to impale him to the walls." He snickered at the memory.
Dan watched him go and then wandered over the bed. He flopped onto it, lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. The entire place was certainly nicer than anything the Brotherhood had - their home had resembled a pesthole. It didn't seem right, though. Too nice. The bed was too soft, the room too plush, and it was too warm. He went over to the window and opened it, letting the chilly night air stream into the place.
Would he be able to keep up the charade? There were two telepaths, at least, in the building. They'd be sure to find him out, there was no way he'd be able to stay hidden. The plan was not going to work, at all. It was crazy. It was insane. He needed the speed, to calm his nerves. No, not to calm them, but to make his mind work better, at the moment he was mush-brained and confused. He felt nauseous and sick, and nervous. Jittery. He clenched his fists together. He needed it.
There had been a time when he hadn't needed anything.
Maybe there hadn't. People always needed something, and he needed-
No.
He wasn't an addict.
Dan drew a deep breath and instead turned his attention to the small potted plant on the windowsill, the only thing there to distract him.
He touched the leaves gently, almost reverently. It felt sick, to him, dying slowly in its prison of dry soil and plastic tub. Dan let his mind drift free, joining with the plant's slow, steady consciousness. It was a green feeling, an entity that had no need for hurry, no worries except moving towards the sun. His breath slowed down as he touched the plant, running his fingers lightly over the stems and leaves. There was a feeling of joy from the spider plant, of sudden health and strength.
He gasped and broke free, rubbing his tingling palms together. The spider plant, which had until now looked sickly and yellow, was a healthy green, the leaves arching upwards gracefully. Several new baby plants had sprouted from the edges, hanging down towards the ground with their tiny roots dangling free in the air. Dan blinked and looked from his hands to the plant and back again.
Odd. He knew that plants grew better around him, stronger, or in the dark - in the case of the pot - but this was different. He had made the plant healthy, healed it. And in return it had calmed his nerves - for a moment, at least, he could feel the old anxiety returning with his quickened breath. It seemed, though, it seemed - not as strong.
But for the time, that tiny sliver of time, he had felt at peace. A smile.
Exhausted, Dan staggered to the bed and flopped onto it, and promptly fell asleep.
Fiona, walking by the room later, looked in for a moment and the closed the door, out of respect for his privacy. Absently she went to her own dormitory, thinking carefully over the events of the day before. Things were happening too quickly, going too fast for her liking. It seemed like too little time since she had been here, hardly any space passing between the moments.
And now they had a new recruit, with problems of his own. Fiona's hand went unconsciously to her neck, rubbing the bare skin there revealed by lack of braid. That was another change, a physical one, and one she wished had never happened. Too many changes in her life, starting with the accident the other day. When would she learn to control it? What if the Professor was wrong?
Plagued by self doubt, she went into her room again, smirking silently. Once she had promised herself she would not give in to teenage angst, and now look what she was thinking. Fiona, amused at the shifting fortunes, flopped down onto her bed and stared at the floor. A sudden thought hit her with the force of an anvil. What if she could /try/ to change? Attempt to bring about the switch, and explore in that form, instead of it being brought on by fear?
Fiona closed the door so that it was mostly shut, with a small opening to squeeze through, then went to the window, opened the screen, and closed the blinds over it. She took off first her shirt, and then pants and underwear. Belatedly she remembered her socks, and shucked those, too. Most clothes, worn during the mutation, were destroyed completely, and she liked her pajamas. Fiona sat down on the bed, and concentrated.
She thought of cats, dark in the shadows, death on velvet paws and silken skins. Small masters of the night, unnoticed and uncaring of any beside themselves. She thought of cats, focused on them, thought of what it would like to be one.
And the change began, the now familiar chill and burn of her bones reconfiguring themselves. It was not painful, and soon, it would cease even to be strange and frightening. Fiona shuddered nonetheless, nervous that this perhaps was not the best idea. Still - it was too late now.
Smell, and a heightened sense of sight. Although it was dark in the room and the light was dim, she could see easily the outlines of everything there, from the corner of the bed (which now seemed so much higher) to the bureau and the door. She slunk towards the sliver of light evident there, marveling at how well her body balanced. It was not like being a human, where you felt like you could fall or trip at any moment, the cat-body was smooth, assured.
Fiona went towards the door, admiring the lack of noise she made, and slipped into the hallway. The perspective was completely different, and at first she was disconcerted and confused. Gradually, however, the cat's senses took over and Fiona was able to bound down the stairs easily enough. Her hearing was enhanced, as well, and the sounds of the mice rustling in the walls were uncomfortably appealing. Ignore them, she thought.
There was a small table with a mirror above it in the hall. She bunched her leg muscles together and leaped up on top of the smooth surface, examining herself in the mirror. Fiona attempted to laugh at what she saw, although the result had no sound and was expressed in a forward twitch of her whiskers. The creature reflected in the mirror was a small gray tabby cat, with golden eyes and an oddly focused expression. Fiona lifted up her hand, and the cat in the mirror raised a paw.
Footsteps! Human-smell! Someone was walking past the hallway, trying to be quiet. She turned, frightened, and saw the lanky frame of Daniel Brown, their newest addition. His face was a ghastly white in the low lights, and he looked as though he was going to be sick. She hunched against the wall, but he noticed her, frowning.
"I didn't know they had cats... Here, kitty," he said, and went over to pick her up.
Humiliation. Fiona struggled against the imprisoning hands, but it was too late. She was caught firmly against his chest. "You can keep me company," he whispered, as he walked down the stairs. Fiona resigned herself to her fate - obviously Dan had no idea who she was, or even that she was not, in reality, a cat. Still... It was embarrassing, and somehow different than when Bobby had hidden her.
He was too skinny, unhealthily so, and beneath the t-shirt he was wearing, his skin was warm, as though from a fever. Fiona made one last ditch attempt to escape. "You don't like me, cat?" Dan asked, sounding sad. He'd never seemed to care about whether or not humans liked him... Suddenly his arms loosened and she shot to the ground, turning her face away. If she were her normal self, she'd be blushing right now, but as a cat, she merely groomed her face and body frantically.
The boy laughed hollowly. "You don't like me, then. It's okay. You can go... Hunt mice or something."
Curious, though, she followed him as he walked towards the kitchen, letting himself out through the side door. "The air's nicer outside," he told her, walking to the edge of the porch and hopping over the low stone wall to sit on the grass next to it, "Opening the window's not any better."
She hopped easily onto the wall and onto the grass, as well, watching him closely. The boy hunched his legs up to his chest, clutching them tightly, chin resting on his knees. "I'm going crazy," he said flatly, "I can't keep up like this. There's no way." His arms went out, fingers scrabbling at the ground, coming up with a rock that he threw violently away, as far as he could. "Look at me," he said bitterly, "I'm even talking to a cat."
Fiona watched all this in amazement, surprised that the self-assured Dan was such a... mess. She couldn't just go back to her dorm room, after seeing that, and the cat-body took over, and did the only thing it knew in order to make someone feel better. She took several steps forward, and twined herself around his legs, tail twitching as her head rubbed his shin. I am so going to regret this later, Fiona thought, but persevered. It was difficult to see anyone looking that - miserable.
The ghost of a smile flickered over his mouth. "Thanks, cat," he whispered, scratching her behind the ears, and then running a finger over her cheek, wrinkling the whiskers.
Whoa. The very pleasurable feeling made her stretch her body out luxuriously, purring. Fiona, beet red underneath the fur, thought that she would never be able to touch a cat behind the ears again, or rub her fingers along the side of its face - not if the cat was actually feeling like /this/. Suddenly shy, she pulled away, and the boy smiled at her. "Thanks, cat," he repeated, and stared morosely out at the sky, where the moon ruled the kingdom above.
He was silent for a long time, and made no move to touch her - to touch the cat. After a while, Fiona thought that his face looked calmer, and then she realized that he had fallen asleep. Should she wake him up, or leave him to sleep there? As she tried to decide what to do, she heard, with the enhanced cat-ears, someone walking along the hallway, a floor up. What if they went into her room--?
Oh, god! Fiona ran towards the door, but it was shut. Shit, Dan must have let it swing closed after he went out... Now how was she going to get in? There was no pet door, because Rahne was able to morph without losing her clothes. She stalked across the ground to the other side of the house, where her room was located - maybe she could climb the tree and then squeeze in through the window? It was worth a try, and she didn't have a better idea.
Later, she wondered how she managed to climb up the tree and squeeze through the window. The footsteps were getting closer - oh shit. She'd left her door open... Leaping onto the bed, Fiona burrowed beneath the blanket. Concentrate, Fiona. She frantically attempted to recall human things: clothes, computer, school, the other X-Men. The change took, held, and she felt herself stretching, as though someone were pulling her arms and legs in completely different directions. "Fiona?" someone whispered.
She clutched the blanket around herself (cursing, because it didn't sound like a teenager) and whispered back, "Who is it?"
"It's Storm," the woman said, poking her head into the room. "Is everything all right? I wasn't sure if you were here, at first."
"N-no," Fiona said, laughing nervously, "I was just asleep."
Storm raised an eyebrow, and glanced at the window. "It's, ah, rather cold to be sleeping in here with no pajamas," the woman said, as tactfully as she could, and withdrew. "Don't stay up much later, there's a practice session tomorrow."
Fiona breathed a sigh of relief, and was glad that, in the dim light, Storm couldn't see the furious blush that had flooded her face.
X
"Uh, Scott? We have a slight problem."
Scott rolled out of bed and groped for his glasses. When he opened them, he saw that Evan Daniels was standing in the doorway of his room, looking worried. "What now, Evan?" Scott asked, rubbing his temples. It couldn't be too horrible, or Evan would have gone to the Professor, but it obviously wasn't something that the skater could deal with by himself. "Sorry, I'm tired. I meant to say, what is it, Evan?"
"You remember Brown, right?"
"The new recruit that I /warned/ the Professor about? What's he done?"
"It's not that he's... Done anything. We just can't find him. He's not in his room."
Scott stood up and pulled a pair of khakis on over his boxers, shaking his head. "I knew it!" he crowed triumphantly, "I knew that kid was trouble. He's probably telling the Brotherhood all about the layout of the mansion! Unless... He's still here? Should we look for him?"
"Okay," Evan said. As Scott struggled into his sweater, Evan poked his head outside of the door to find another person to help. He wasn't particularly thrilled about looking for Dan, it was early and he was hungry. Jean passed by and he snagged her by the arm, earning an expression with eyes rolled towards the heavens. "Jean?"
"Yes?"
"Have you seen Dan anywhere around?"
"Uh, no." She gave him a look that said, go away, little man.
Maybe, Evan pondered, her problems stemmed from the fact that she was named 'Jean.' It was enough to put anyone in a bad mood. "Could you maybe... Look for him?"
"Fine, fine," she sighed elegantly, and closed her eyes, concentrating. "He's asleep next to the porch outside the kitchen."
"On the ground?"
"Yes."
"How'd he get there?"
"Don't ask me, I don't know. But if you're looking, I've found him. And Evan?" Jean said plaintively.
"Yes?"
"Will you let go of my arm?"
"Oh, sorry." He let go, just as Scott skidded out of the room, almost crashing into his two fellow students. "Don't bother, Scott, Jean found him."
"Where?"
"Sleeping next to the porch."
"On the ground?"
"That's exactly what I said."
"Oh."
"So I guess he isn't spying, then."
"I guess not."
Evan snickered, because Scott looked almost disappointed.
X
Someone poked him in the stomach with a booted foot. Instinctively he rolled into a sitting position and kicked out with one foot, connected with flesh and bone, heard a voice grunt in annoyance, and then cursed loudly as the same hauled him up by the collar of the shirt and pinned him to the wall. For the first time, Dan opened his eyes wider and stared into the decidedly un-cheerful face of Logan. The man snarled at him. "I was going to tell yeh that breakfast's bein' served. But now, I think I'll teach yeh a lesson." His nose wrinkled as he smiled unpleasantly.
"A lesson? I wasn't doing anything wrong," Dan insisted, feet just brushing the ground.
"Sleeping outside on the ground? You worried the Professor. And kicking me in the shins don't do much teh get yeh in my good graces."
"Sorry," Dan apologized insincerely. "I won't do it again."
"Yeh wanna tell me what the hell yer doin' out here?"
"I couldn't sleep in my room. It was too comfortable." Was it his imagination, or did the Wolverine almost crack a smile? He must have imagined it. "I came out here and so did the cat."
"The cat?"
"Uh, yeah. The gray one. Will you put me down now?"
"We don't have a cat," Logan said, as he released Dan's collar.
Dan shrugged, yawning widely and brushing grass off of his shirt. There were going to be green stains on it, but that was okay. Even the dead liquid residue of the ground comforted him, made him feel at ease. "Well, there was definitely a cat last night."
"Must've been a stray. Now hurry an' eat yer breakfast, you've all got a long day ahead o' yer."
"Goody."
It seems so frightening
Time passes like lightning
Before you know it you're struck down
I always waste my time on my chemical emotions
It keeps my head spinning around
And waste away.
-Green Day, Android
"Don't sweat it, man," Evan told Dan as they walked through the hallways of the Institute, later that night, "Scott's a nice guy when you get to know him."
"He, uh, didn't sound like it," Dan said, holding his backpack, which contained his meager possessions in it, over his shoulders.
"He's just a bit, a bit suspicious. Sometimes. Okay. All the time," Evan said, and opened a door. "But it's just because... he cares about the team."
"Team," Dan repeated.
"Uh, that's what it's called."
"No offense but that's, um, kind of gay."
Evan rolled his eyes. "Welcome to the Xavier Institute, my friend."
"Thanks."
"Well, this will be your cell for the duration of your stay," Evan said, glancing into the room, "Breakfast's at seven, don't go into the danger room unless someone else knows you're there, other than that the house rules are basically the same as anywhere else."
"Sooo..." Dan said, dropping his bag on the chair, "No wild parties, no sex, no drugs?"
Evan coughed into his hand. "Wild parties in the Xavier Institute are sort of like... like... some sort of unlikely thing."
"Some sort of unlikely thing?"
"Hey, witty conversation isn't my strong point, all right?" Evan said. "That's Rogue's job."
"Right," Dan said, "I'll remember that, if I've a desire to mince words."
"Er, bad idea," Evan said, shaking his head and moving his hands emphatically, "Unless you want to wake up with a headache."
"...Right. I see I've got a lot to learn about this place."
"Don't worry, you'll fit in soon," Evan said, and nodded. "If you need anything, yell. Don't yodel. Iceman tried that, as a joke, at three o'clock in the morning, and I think Logan was ready to impale him to the walls." He snickered at the memory.
Dan watched him go and then wandered over the bed. He flopped onto it, lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. The entire place was certainly nicer than anything the Brotherhood had - their home had resembled a pesthole. It didn't seem right, though. Too nice. The bed was too soft, the room too plush, and it was too warm. He went over to the window and opened it, letting the chilly night air stream into the place.
Would he be able to keep up the charade? There were two telepaths, at least, in the building. They'd be sure to find him out, there was no way he'd be able to stay hidden. The plan was not going to work, at all. It was crazy. It was insane. He needed the speed, to calm his nerves. No, not to calm them, but to make his mind work better, at the moment he was mush-brained and confused. He felt nauseous and sick, and nervous. Jittery. He clenched his fists together. He needed it.
There had been a time when he hadn't needed anything.
Maybe there hadn't. People always needed something, and he needed-
No.
He wasn't an addict.
Dan drew a deep breath and instead turned his attention to the small potted plant on the windowsill, the only thing there to distract him.
He touched the leaves gently, almost reverently. It felt sick, to him, dying slowly in its prison of dry soil and plastic tub. Dan let his mind drift free, joining with the plant's slow, steady consciousness. It was a green feeling, an entity that had no need for hurry, no worries except moving towards the sun. His breath slowed down as he touched the plant, running his fingers lightly over the stems and leaves. There was a feeling of joy from the spider plant, of sudden health and strength.
He gasped and broke free, rubbing his tingling palms together. The spider plant, which had until now looked sickly and yellow, was a healthy green, the leaves arching upwards gracefully. Several new baby plants had sprouted from the edges, hanging down towards the ground with their tiny roots dangling free in the air. Dan blinked and looked from his hands to the plant and back again.
Odd. He knew that plants grew better around him, stronger, or in the dark - in the case of the pot - but this was different. He had made the plant healthy, healed it. And in return it had calmed his nerves - for a moment, at least, he could feel the old anxiety returning with his quickened breath. It seemed, though, it seemed - not as strong.
But for the time, that tiny sliver of time, he had felt at peace. A smile.
Exhausted, Dan staggered to the bed and flopped onto it, and promptly fell asleep.
Fiona, walking by the room later, looked in for a moment and the closed the door, out of respect for his privacy. Absently she went to her own dormitory, thinking carefully over the events of the day before. Things were happening too quickly, going too fast for her liking. It seemed like too little time since she had been here, hardly any space passing between the moments.
And now they had a new recruit, with problems of his own. Fiona's hand went unconsciously to her neck, rubbing the bare skin there revealed by lack of braid. That was another change, a physical one, and one she wished had never happened. Too many changes in her life, starting with the accident the other day. When would she learn to control it? What if the Professor was wrong?
Plagued by self doubt, she went into her room again, smirking silently. Once she had promised herself she would not give in to teenage angst, and now look what she was thinking. Fiona, amused at the shifting fortunes, flopped down onto her bed and stared at the floor. A sudden thought hit her with the force of an anvil. What if she could /try/ to change? Attempt to bring about the switch, and explore in that form, instead of it being brought on by fear?
Fiona closed the door so that it was mostly shut, with a small opening to squeeze through, then went to the window, opened the screen, and closed the blinds over it. She took off first her shirt, and then pants and underwear. Belatedly she remembered her socks, and shucked those, too. Most clothes, worn during the mutation, were destroyed completely, and she liked her pajamas. Fiona sat down on the bed, and concentrated.
She thought of cats, dark in the shadows, death on velvet paws and silken skins. Small masters of the night, unnoticed and uncaring of any beside themselves. She thought of cats, focused on them, thought of what it would like to be one.
And the change began, the now familiar chill and burn of her bones reconfiguring themselves. It was not painful, and soon, it would cease even to be strange and frightening. Fiona shuddered nonetheless, nervous that this perhaps was not the best idea. Still - it was too late now.
Smell, and a heightened sense of sight. Although it was dark in the room and the light was dim, she could see easily the outlines of everything there, from the corner of the bed (which now seemed so much higher) to the bureau and the door. She slunk towards the sliver of light evident there, marveling at how well her body balanced. It was not like being a human, where you felt like you could fall or trip at any moment, the cat-body was smooth, assured.
Fiona went towards the door, admiring the lack of noise she made, and slipped into the hallway. The perspective was completely different, and at first she was disconcerted and confused. Gradually, however, the cat's senses took over and Fiona was able to bound down the stairs easily enough. Her hearing was enhanced, as well, and the sounds of the mice rustling in the walls were uncomfortably appealing. Ignore them, she thought.
There was a small table with a mirror above it in the hall. She bunched her leg muscles together and leaped up on top of the smooth surface, examining herself in the mirror. Fiona attempted to laugh at what she saw, although the result had no sound and was expressed in a forward twitch of her whiskers. The creature reflected in the mirror was a small gray tabby cat, with golden eyes and an oddly focused expression. Fiona lifted up her hand, and the cat in the mirror raised a paw.
Footsteps! Human-smell! Someone was walking past the hallway, trying to be quiet. She turned, frightened, and saw the lanky frame of Daniel Brown, their newest addition. His face was a ghastly white in the low lights, and he looked as though he was going to be sick. She hunched against the wall, but he noticed her, frowning.
"I didn't know they had cats... Here, kitty," he said, and went over to pick her up.
Humiliation. Fiona struggled against the imprisoning hands, but it was too late. She was caught firmly against his chest. "You can keep me company," he whispered, as he walked down the stairs. Fiona resigned herself to her fate - obviously Dan had no idea who she was, or even that she was not, in reality, a cat. Still... It was embarrassing, and somehow different than when Bobby had hidden her.
He was too skinny, unhealthily so, and beneath the t-shirt he was wearing, his skin was warm, as though from a fever. Fiona made one last ditch attempt to escape. "You don't like me, cat?" Dan asked, sounding sad. He'd never seemed to care about whether or not humans liked him... Suddenly his arms loosened and she shot to the ground, turning her face away. If she were her normal self, she'd be blushing right now, but as a cat, she merely groomed her face and body frantically.
The boy laughed hollowly. "You don't like me, then. It's okay. You can go... Hunt mice or something."
Curious, though, she followed him as he walked towards the kitchen, letting himself out through the side door. "The air's nicer outside," he told her, walking to the edge of the porch and hopping over the low stone wall to sit on the grass next to it, "Opening the window's not any better."
She hopped easily onto the wall and onto the grass, as well, watching him closely. The boy hunched his legs up to his chest, clutching them tightly, chin resting on his knees. "I'm going crazy," he said flatly, "I can't keep up like this. There's no way." His arms went out, fingers scrabbling at the ground, coming up with a rock that he threw violently away, as far as he could. "Look at me," he said bitterly, "I'm even talking to a cat."
Fiona watched all this in amazement, surprised that the self-assured Dan was such a... mess. She couldn't just go back to her dorm room, after seeing that, and the cat-body took over, and did the only thing it knew in order to make someone feel better. She took several steps forward, and twined herself around his legs, tail twitching as her head rubbed his shin. I am so going to regret this later, Fiona thought, but persevered. It was difficult to see anyone looking that - miserable.
The ghost of a smile flickered over his mouth. "Thanks, cat," he whispered, scratching her behind the ears, and then running a finger over her cheek, wrinkling the whiskers.
Whoa. The very pleasurable feeling made her stretch her body out luxuriously, purring. Fiona, beet red underneath the fur, thought that she would never be able to touch a cat behind the ears again, or rub her fingers along the side of its face - not if the cat was actually feeling like /this/. Suddenly shy, she pulled away, and the boy smiled at her. "Thanks, cat," he repeated, and stared morosely out at the sky, where the moon ruled the kingdom above.
He was silent for a long time, and made no move to touch her - to touch the cat. After a while, Fiona thought that his face looked calmer, and then she realized that he had fallen asleep. Should she wake him up, or leave him to sleep there? As she tried to decide what to do, she heard, with the enhanced cat-ears, someone walking along the hallway, a floor up. What if they went into her room--?
Oh, god! Fiona ran towards the door, but it was shut. Shit, Dan must have let it swing closed after he went out... Now how was she going to get in? There was no pet door, because Rahne was able to morph without losing her clothes. She stalked across the ground to the other side of the house, where her room was located - maybe she could climb the tree and then squeeze in through the window? It was worth a try, and she didn't have a better idea.
Later, she wondered how she managed to climb up the tree and squeeze through the window. The footsteps were getting closer - oh shit. She'd left her door open... Leaping onto the bed, Fiona burrowed beneath the blanket. Concentrate, Fiona. She frantically attempted to recall human things: clothes, computer, school, the other X-Men. The change took, held, and she felt herself stretching, as though someone were pulling her arms and legs in completely different directions. "Fiona?" someone whispered.
She clutched the blanket around herself (cursing, because it didn't sound like a teenager) and whispered back, "Who is it?"
"It's Storm," the woman said, poking her head into the room. "Is everything all right? I wasn't sure if you were here, at first."
"N-no," Fiona said, laughing nervously, "I was just asleep."
Storm raised an eyebrow, and glanced at the window. "It's, ah, rather cold to be sleeping in here with no pajamas," the woman said, as tactfully as she could, and withdrew. "Don't stay up much later, there's a practice session tomorrow."
Fiona breathed a sigh of relief, and was glad that, in the dim light, Storm couldn't see the furious blush that had flooded her face.
X
"Uh, Scott? We have a slight problem."
Scott rolled out of bed and groped for his glasses. When he opened them, he saw that Evan Daniels was standing in the doorway of his room, looking worried. "What now, Evan?" Scott asked, rubbing his temples. It couldn't be too horrible, or Evan would have gone to the Professor, but it obviously wasn't something that the skater could deal with by himself. "Sorry, I'm tired. I meant to say, what is it, Evan?"
"You remember Brown, right?"
"The new recruit that I /warned/ the Professor about? What's he done?"
"It's not that he's... Done anything. We just can't find him. He's not in his room."
Scott stood up and pulled a pair of khakis on over his boxers, shaking his head. "I knew it!" he crowed triumphantly, "I knew that kid was trouble. He's probably telling the Brotherhood all about the layout of the mansion! Unless... He's still here? Should we look for him?"
"Okay," Evan said. As Scott struggled into his sweater, Evan poked his head outside of the door to find another person to help. He wasn't particularly thrilled about looking for Dan, it was early and he was hungry. Jean passed by and he snagged her by the arm, earning an expression with eyes rolled towards the heavens. "Jean?"
"Yes?"
"Have you seen Dan anywhere around?"
"Uh, no." She gave him a look that said, go away, little man.
Maybe, Evan pondered, her problems stemmed from the fact that she was named 'Jean.' It was enough to put anyone in a bad mood. "Could you maybe... Look for him?"
"Fine, fine," she sighed elegantly, and closed her eyes, concentrating. "He's asleep next to the porch outside the kitchen."
"On the ground?"
"Yes."
"How'd he get there?"
"Don't ask me, I don't know. But if you're looking, I've found him. And Evan?" Jean said plaintively.
"Yes?"
"Will you let go of my arm?"
"Oh, sorry." He let go, just as Scott skidded out of the room, almost crashing into his two fellow students. "Don't bother, Scott, Jean found him."
"Where?"
"Sleeping next to the porch."
"On the ground?"
"That's exactly what I said."
"Oh."
"So I guess he isn't spying, then."
"I guess not."
Evan snickered, because Scott looked almost disappointed.
X
Someone poked him in the stomach with a booted foot. Instinctively he rolled into a sitting position and kicked out with one foot, connected with flesh and bone, heard a voice grunt in annoyance, and then cursed loudly as the same hauled him up by the collar of the shirt and pinned him to the wall. For the first time, Dan opened his eyes wider and stared into the decidedly un-cheerful face of Logan. The man snarled at him. "I was going to tell yeh that breakfast's bein' served. But now, I think I'll teach yeh a lesson." His nose wrinkled as he smiled unpleasantly.
"A lesson? I wasn't doing anything wrong," Dan insisted, feet just brushing the ground.
"Sleeping outside on the ground? You worried the Professor. And kicking me in the shins don't do much teh get yeh in my good graces."
"Sorry," Dan apologized insincerely. "I won't do it again."
"Yeh wanna tell me what the hell yer doin' out here?"
"I couldn't sleep in my room. It was too comfortable." Was it his imagination, or did the Wolverine almost crack a smile? He must have imagined it. "I came out here and so did the cat."
"The cat?"
"Uh, yeah. The gray one. Will you put me down now?"
"We don't have a cat," Logan said, as he released Dan's collar.
Dan shrugged, yawning widely and brushing grass off of his shirt. There were going to be green stains on it, but that was okay. Even the dead liquid residue of the ground comforted him, made him feel at ease. "Well, there was definitely a cat last night."
"Must've been a stray. Now hurry an' eat yer breakfast, you've all got a long day ahead o' yer."
"Goody."
