It was nine o'clock PM and I was seriously thinking of taking a nice long bath. With the door
locked. With the radio on.
Oh yeah, I knew I was supposed to be as tense and apprehensive as everyone else. The Professor
was gone. The Brotherhood could possibly strike if they felt like it. The would could end. But,
even though Jean was glued to Cerebro, even though Scott was pacing the kitchen, gnawing a roll
and forming battle plans in his head, even though Kurt was doing gymnastics in the dining room
(and occasionally breaking something), it was nine o' clock and nothing had happened.
The only reason I wasn't taking a bath was because I was certain that if I did, Jean would
suddenly call out an alarm and everyone would get all suited up and I'd have to run out to battle
in a towel.
Spyke wandered into the kitchen (dodging Scott, who was oblivious), opened the refrigerator,
and started pouring a gallon of milk down his throat. I was sure he'd have to relieve himself
right in the middle of combat, should combat happen. And it'd serve him right, I mean,
moderation is sometimes a good thing, you know?
The second hand of the clock crept at a terribly slow pace to fifteen after. I stifled a yawn and
decided that, Brotherhood or no Brotherhood, I was having my bath.
Of course, at that moment, Jean ran into the kitchen, her usually perfect hair badly tousled. "We
need to go. Now. The Brotherhood are in the school and they're using their powers. I'm afraid
it's going to be a repeat of last time . . ."
But even as everyone rushed to get spandexed, I paused, resting my hand on the counter (because
it was there). Something wasn't right about this. I mean, I'm sure Scott suspected it too (he
knows everything, you know), but he'd go through with the battle anyway. Proving stuff and all.
But why on earth would the Brotherhood destroy (or mutilate or whatever) the school? It didn't
make sense. They wouldn't get any money out of it and it'd just call a huge amount of attention
to them and us and whatever other weirdos might be out there.
Unless they weren't destroying the school. Unless they were just trying to get our attention.
Unless it was a trap.
Of course, I amended, as I finally followed the other X-men, they could just have snuck into the
gym to play basketball . . . . . in which case we'd look really really stupid.
locked. With the radio on.
Oh yeah, I knew I was supposed to be as tense and apprehensive as everyone else. The Professor
was gone. The Brotherhood could possibly strike if they felt like it. The would could end. But,
even though Jean was glued to Cerebro, even though Scott was pacing the kitchen, gnawing a roll
and forming battle plans in his head, even though Kurt was doing gymnastics in the dining room
(and occasionally breaking something), it was nine o' clock and nothing had happened.
The only reason I wasn't taking a bath was because I was certain that if I did, Jean would
suddenly call out an alarm and everyone would get all suited up and I'd have to run out to battle
in a towel.
Spyke wandered into the kitchen (dodging Scott, who was oblivious), opened the refrigerator,
and started pouring a gallon of milk down his throat. I was sure he'd have to relieve himself
right in the middle of combat, should combat happen. And it'd serve him right, I mean,
moderation is sometimes a good thing, you know?
The second hand of the clock crept at a terribly slow pace to fifteen after. I stifled a yawn and
decided that, Brotherhood or no Brotherhood, I was having my bath.
Of course, at that moment, Jean ran into the kitchen, her usually perfect hair badly tousled. "We
need to go. Now. The Brotherhood are in the school and they're using their powers. I'm afraid
it's going to be a repeat of last time . . ."
But even as everyone rushed to get spandexed, I paused, resting my hand on the counter (because
it was there). Something wasn't right about this. I mean, I'm sure Scott suspected it too (he
knows everything, you know), but he'd go through with the battle anyway. Proving stuff and all.
But why on earth would the Brotherhood destroy (or mutilate or whatever) the school? It didn't
make sense. They wouldn't get any money out of it and it'd just call a huge amount of attention
to them and us and whatever other weirdos might be out there.
Unless they weren't destroying the school. Unless they were just trying to get our attention.
Unless it was a trap.
Of course, I amended, as I finally followed the other X-men, they could just have snuck into the
gym to play basketball . . . . . in which case we'd look really really stupid.