CHAPTER 7: Cat Got Your Tongue?
Hank was released from the infirmary the next day. Except for mealtimes, he spent most of his time in the lab. Hyperspacial widgets and turbo-powered framozams poured from his fertile imagination. Basically, it was just busy work, trying to keep his mind off matching feeding bowls, rubber mice and balls of string. Yet, he was curious as to whether she had actually acquired any of them.
Tyger spent much of her time alone. What SHE was doing was anybody's guess. She was even avoiding Jubilee, and when they did run into each other, Jube noticed that Tyger seemed tried, irritated and frustrated, and refused to talk about it.
As the days stretched to a week and one week into two, the stress around the mansion became palpable. Even Logan, who had returned from his camping trip, could feel the tension. And there wasn't even a despotic supercriminal around to help relieve the strain.
Rogue had taken to pounding Danger Room mechanations to relieve it. Jubilee continuously attempted near-reckless blading endeavours. Scott and Jean began to argue nearly continuously over trivial things. Ororo, however, seemed strangely unaffected. She still continued to be her calm and collected self, although she did seem to be spending a lot more time in her greenhouses than was usual. As for Logan, during that week ALL the hedges in the property got trimmed, even the ones that didn't need it. And in the bars around town, bikers kept a low profile.
But by the 15th day after the 'collaring', things began to liven up. Less repairs were needed around the mansion. Jube's skinned knees were finally given a chance to start healing, and Scott no longer spent his nights on the sofa. And one by one, the bikers returned to the bars, though with furtive glances over their shoulders.
Hank, buried in the lab, noticed little of this. Being so immersed in his trivial studies of useless trivia, he was oblivious to the world around him. But finally, the seemingly neverending quest for twinkies forced him to leave his refuge and venture forth once more into the world.
Unfortunately, peace was not to be his as the first person he met was Tyger. "Good day, my dear," he said, nodding curtly as he walked past her.
"hi...haank."
It wasn't for a full ten seconds that the fact that she had spoken to him clicked in. His head snapped around, but he kept going forward. Unfortunately, the doorframe didn't seem to care.
Staring at the ceiling he thought, that is certainly an unusual place to put a wall. Then he suddenly found himself looking into Tyger's eyes.
"aaarrr...yuuuuu...ooohkayee?"
Blink. Blink.
"haank?"
Blink. Blink. Blink.
"speek...tooo...mee...haank"
"Dear Tyger...I...I'm...speechless...!"
She grinned. "Catt...gott...yourrr...tonnggue...nowww?" Her voice sounded strained and mechanical. And she didn't need to move her lips since she was talking directly from her throat via the collar.
"I....aaammm...lerrnninng...itt...nott...eeezzy," she added, an expression of pride on her face.
"I'm impressed," commented Hank. "Although I would be more impressed if I wasn't conversing with you from such a ludicrous position."
"oh...soorrreee...haank," she said as she stepped back and helped Hank onto his feet.
Oh, yes. That subcutaneous cranial swelling will be quite impressive later. For once, being blue has its advantages- no one will notice my bruises.
"Why...youu..alllwaaazz...hert...self?" Tyger asked him, looking genuinely concerned.
Hank sighed. "My dear lady, fate has my address and Murphy, my number. And the way I'm going, that number will be up quite soon."
She looked at him blankly. "I..dooaann...unnderstaaand"
Hank gently caressed her cheek. "Don't worry, be happy...the way you are. As for myself, I believe that at this time, I require an icepack. If you will excuse me," he said, and she watched him head down the corrider, muttering something about icepacks and Bobby.
Hank was released from the infirmary the next day. Except for mealtimes, he spent most of his time in the lab. Hyperspacial widgets and turbo-powered framozams poured from his fertile imagination. Basically, it was just busy work, trying to keep his mind off matching feeding bowls, rubber mice and balls of string. Yet, he was curious as to whether she had actually acquired any of them.
Tyger spent much of her time alone. What SHE was doing was anybody's guess. She was even avoiding Jubilee, and when they did run into each other, Jube noticed that Tyger seemed tried, irritated and frustrated, and refused to talk about it.
As the days stretched to a week and one week into two, the stress around the mansion became palpable. Even Logan, who had returned from his camping trip, could feel the tension. And there wasn't even a despotic supercriminal around to help relieve the strain.
Rogue had taken to pounding Danger Room mechanations to relieve it. Jubilee continuously attempted near-reckless blading endeavours. Scott and Jean began to argue nearly continuously over trivial things. Ororo, however, seemed strangely unaffected. She still continued to be her calm and collected self, although she did seem to be spending a lot more time in her greenhouses than was usual. As for Logan, during that week ALL the hedges in the property got trimmed, even the ones that didn't need it. And in the bars around town, bikers kept a low profile.
But by the 15th day after the 'collaring', things began to liven up. Less repairs were needed around the mansion. Jube's skinned knees were finally given a chance to start healing, and Scott no longer spent his nights on the sofa. And one by one, the bikers returned to the bars, though with furtive glances over their shoulders.
Hank, buried in the lab, noticed little of this. Being so immersed in his trivial studies of useless trivia, he was oblivious to the world around him. But finally, the seemingly neverending quest for twinkies forced him to leave his refuge and venture forth once more into the world.
Unfortunately, peace was not to be his as the first person he met was Tyger. "Good day, my dear," he said, nodding curtly as he walked past her.
"hi...haank."
It wasn't for a full ten seconds that the fact that she had spoken to him clicked in. His head snapped around, but he kept going forward. Unfortunately, the doorframe didn't seem to care.
Staring at the ceiling he thought, that is certainly an unusual place to put a wall. Then he suddenly found himself looking into Tyger's eyes.
"aaarrr...yuuuuu...ooohkayee?"
Blink. Blink.
"haank?"
Blink. Blink. Blink.
"speek...tooo...mee...haank"
"Dear Tyger...I...I'm...speechless...!"
She grinned. "Catt...gott...yourrr...tonnggue...nowww?" Her voice sounded strained and mechanical. And she didn't need to move her lips since she was talking directly from her throat via the collar.
"I....aaammm...lerrnninng...itt...nott...eeezzy," she added, an expression of pride on her face.
"I'm impressed," commented Hank. "Although I would be more impressed if I wasn't conversing with you from such a ludicrous position."
"oh...soorrreee...haank," she said as she stepped back and helped Hank onto his feet.
Oh, yes. That subcutaneous cranial swelling will be quite impressive later. For once, being blue has its advantages- no one will notice my bruises.
"Why...youu..alllwaaazz...hert...self?" Tyger asked him, looking genuinely concerned.
Hank sighed. "My dear lady, fate has my address and Murphy, my number. And the way I'm going, that number will be up quite soon."
She looked at him blankly. "I..dooaann...unnderstaaand"
Hank gently caressed her cheek. "Don't worry, be happy...the way you are. As for myself, I believe that at this time, I require an icepack. If you will excuse me," he said, and she watched him head down the corrider, muttering something about icepacks and Bobby.