Part 24 ^_^
"I thought you locked the door!"
"I thought *you* locked the door!"
"*I* locked the door," said the Professor. "Scott went out the
window."
"D'oh!" said Amanda.
"On the upside," said Evan, "at least we know it's *working*."
"Unfortunately, the influence of both the spells is interfering with
my telepathic link. Even if I use Cerebro, I'd have trouble tracking him
down."
"D'OH!"
A taxi pulled up outside the gate.
"Kurt's home early," said the Professor. "Oh dear."
"What?" said Evan.
"I know where Scott is..."
They looked out the window. Logan was helping peel Scott free of a
tarpaulin, with the assistance of the cabbie and a highly-repulsed-
looking Kurt. Together, they escorted him - at arm's length - back to
the institute.
"Concussion," said Logan.
"Believe me, it's an improvement," said Kurt. "Whoever told him that
singing _Greensleeves_ to Jimaine was funny aught to listen to his
*singing* for a whole verdammt *hour*."
"No need to get vicious, Elf," said Logan.
"Um," said Evan. "Actually, it was sort of his own idea."
"He broke out on us," said Amanda. "We had no idea how quickly the
spell would work."
"Spell?" echoed Kurt, making little hex signs by his hip. "What sort
of spell?"
"It's like this..." Evan began.
"Let me get this straight," said Kurt. "Mysticism mucks up Sorcery."
"Yeah."
"But *only* if you cast the same sort of spell on the same person," he
continued.
"That's right," said Evan. Amanda had had to go home after one too
many longing looks.
"So you guys cast a love spell on Scott - to *counter* a love spell
Jimaine cast on him."
"That's right."
"Why the heck would Jimaine cast a love spell on *Scott*?" Kurt
wondered. "It's me she-- (unh)..." his jaws clenched together.
Obviously, this was one of the things Jimaine didn't want him to talk
about. "...verdammt." He changed the subject. "So why isn't he trying to
chase Amanda?"
"'Cause the first spell has precedence," said Evan. "It's had a longer
time to dig in, and before the spell implodes, it's going to get
stronger."
"Eurgh..." said Kurt. "We're going to have to tie him down."
Jimaine was ticked, and the day hadn't even started yet. She'd been
primed and ready to enact her plan and that *idiot* with the sunglasses
had to ruin everything.
Now she had three days before the fertility spell wore off in which to
bed the demon-boy and get pregnant with his spawn. If she failed, she'd
have to wait another *month* before trying again.
An entire month of avoiding suspicion and enforcing her hold on the
demon. An entire month of threatening his alleged friends. Jimaine
didn't know if she could maintain that much effort.
Maybe if she threatened them with similar things. Yes. Tell Kurt's
friends that the demon's life was in peril if they didn't leave things
be - and tell *Kurt* that his friends' lives were in peril if he didn't
do as she willed.
Perfect.
What she couldn't understand was where the flows of her magic were
going to. According to her reading, last night, her spell was working.
She could tell that she had a soul enwrapped by her magic; yet Kurt was
acting - normally.
Well. Normally for *him*.
Jimaine went to her homeroom and tried to think things through. Mayhap
he had some sort of luck charm on him. Lord knew that mud-magics like
mysticism wrought hell on sorcery. She'd have to frisk him at a later
date. Or add a compulsion that *her* magical amulets were much better
than the homemade ones.
So much *investment* for a minion and protector that wouldn't be able
to act for a handful of years, at least. And if she accelerated its
growth, she'd have to put up with it having the mind of an imbecile.
_The Winding Way is *such* a pain..._ But then, every magic had its
prices and flaws. And laws.
"Flowers for a Jimaine Sezardos?"
_What the--?_ "That's Szardos," she said. "What's this about?"
The courier handed over a dozen long-stem red roses. "Message from -
uh- Scott Sumners. Ahem. 'Roses are red, Violets are blue, I hope that
this proves that I love you'."
That sunglasses-wearing freak was going to die. Slowly and painfully.
Over the passage of *years*. "Thank you," she grimaced, then thrust the
roses at the nearest person. "Here. Pretend somebody loves you."
"Thanks," said the overtall, thin and androgynous being at the next
desk. "But I don't swing that way. Try Hubert."
"...rrrrr..." said Jimaine.
"Hey, Kitty."
Kitty turned. Hubert was holding a dozen red roses. Long-stemmed and
thornless. "Oh *wow*. Hubert... You didn't have to go and do *this*..."
she blushed. "How could you *afford* it?"
"Well. Um. They're sorta second-hand. There's this girl in homeroom,
and she got flowers, and she didn't want them, and they were just gonna
be thrown out. Andum. I thought they aughta go to someone special."
Hubert was turning beetroot-red and mumbling by the time he finished his
speech.
Kitty giggled. "Oh, that's so *sweet*," she squeaked. "Nobody's given
me flowers. Like, *ever*." She gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek,
then hugged the bouquet and squealed. "Thankyou, thankyou, thankyou,
thankyou, *thankyou*!"
"...wow..." said Hubert, watching her dance down the hall.
"Mister Hubert Hughes?" said a MiB. He was standing in a group of
three MiBs.
_Uh oh._ "Not me," he lied. "You want *that* guy," he said, pointing
out Duncan Matthews. "He'll try to tell you he's someone else and show
you fake ID and stuff, but he's really Hughes."
"Thank you for your time." The MiBs stalked towards Duncan.
Hubert raced away as fast as he could go. _I'm in it. I'm in it deep._
MiBs didn't exactly listen to tales of woe or true love. Maybe he could
get Kitty to call him by a pet name for a week or so.
"Candygram for a Jimaine -er- Sizardos?"
"Szardos," said Jimaine. She had a sneaking suspicion by now that
something had gone awry. *Very* awry.
This time it was a heart-shaped box of chocolates. Cheap chocolates.
And the courier had already eaten all the caramel curls.
"There's a message, too. From a Scott-- I can't read the last name.
Some kinda season."
"Get on with it," sighed Jimaine.
"Ahem. 'Sugar and candy, and chocolate too. These treats are sweet,
but never as sweet as you." He held his hand out for a tip.
"You may go away. And next time, don't eat the chocolates."
"*Or* interrupt a class," added Mr Stevens. "Miss Szardos, could you
please tell your boyfriend to keep his courting activities
*extra*curricular?"
"He's not my boyfriend," said Jimaine, passing the untouched box to
Hubert.
"Chocolates *too*?" squealed Kitty. "Oh *wow*..."
"Someone already ate the caramel curls," Hubert appologised. "Same
story as with the flowers, I'm afraid. But when it rains pennies, you
know..." he shrugged.
"Look... Hubie... It doesn't matter how you got 'em. I don't even mind
that like, someone ate the caramel curls. They like, totally give me
pimples anyway. It's just so like, *cool* to get like, *candy*." Kitty
bounced up and down with glee. "You're like, the sweetest guy *ever*!"
Hubert grinned. "You mean it?"
"Yeah! I'm like, so totally like, appologetic that I thought about you
like you were like, Idunno. I had you like, *completely* pegged wrong."
She giggled and jumped some more before hugging the stuffing out of
Hubert. "Thankyou, thankyou, thankyou, thankyou, thankyou, thankyou,
thankyou, thankyou, thankyoooooouuu..."
"...wow..." said Hubert.
Kitty giggled and shrieked all the way to her next class.
"Pst!" Kitty nudged Kurt on the arm. Once she had his attention, she
took a strawberry cream and ate it in front of him. "Nah, nah. I got
chocolates and you don't."
"Real mature," said Kurt. "Candygram chocolates are the *worst*." He
made a face. "If you want *real* chocolate, there's only four countries
to go to: Switzerland, Belgium, Germany and Australia. Chocolate made in
America is just - cheap."
"When you're *quite* done comparing delicacies?"
Kurt blushed and cringed in his seat. "Sorry, mein Herr..."
"Hey there, li'l lady," said a bizarre vision in a polyester jumpsuit,
glittering cape, over-the-top pompadour with mutton-chop sideburns and
an enormous pair of sunglasses. "Ah'm here t' give a message to a
Jimaine Svardos?"
"Szardos," Jimaine sighed. "You're going to do something hideously
embaressing aren't you?" And it wasn't even lunchtime...
He struck a pose, "There's a special guy out there who loves you
tender with a real hunka hunka burnin' lurve. And if you don't be true,
you're nuthin' but a hound dawg; so don't say only fools rush in,
because he'd be all shook up. Don't have a wooden heart, and say
you'll be his teddy bear. This song is for you, darlin'..." He cleared
his throat, bought his guitar to the front, and started singing _Don't
Be Cruel_.
Well, at least he could *sing*. Jimaine cringed on the spot as gawkers
gathered in the hallway around her. _Years aren't enough,_ she decided.
_I'm going to take *decades*. I'll make him my *hobby*. Like
needlepoint, only bloodier._
It was at this point that she noticed the teddy bear tucked into the
man's belt, and cringed even further. If it were possible, the heat
rushing to her face would have started fires.
The song wound to a close, thank the Goddess, and the man in the
outrageous costume pressed the teddy bear, bedecked in a similar costume
to his, into her arms.
"Ladiesan'gennulmen, you'vebeenawunnerfulaudience," he mumbled,
tossing a little salute and striding out of sight.
"That was - surreal," said an observer.
Jimaine dropped the bear into the nearest trash bin.
"The Elvis impersonator has *left* the building," announced another
wit.
_Thank the *Goddess*..._ Jimaine thought.
Kitty and Hubert, who'd been standing together to watch the show,
looked at the alleged prize as it lay on top of a bunch of rejected
printouts.
"I don't know about you," said Hubert, "but I'm not touching *that*
with a forty-foot barge pole."
"Ew. Like, me neither." Kitty made a face. "Like, who'd *want* an
Elvis teddy bear?"
"Elvis teddy bear?" echoed one of the teachers, who was trying to
disperse the crowds. It was Mrs Engelhardt. She gasped in delight and
rescued the thing from the trash. "Oh, *wonderful*," she squeaked. "You
just can't *buy* these!" She dusted it off. "*You* are going in my prize
display cabinet, young man." She whisked away, grinning like the
proverbial cat.
Kitty and Hubert stared.
"I am like, *never* looking at Mrs Engelhardt the same way again."
"Calculus will never be the same," said Hubert.
"On the other hand, it does like, explain her pencil holder."
"*And* those mysterious catalogues..."
They looked at each other.
"Eeeeeeeeeeewwwwwww..." they chorused.
Lunch. Jimaine breathed a sigh of relief as she sat with the demon in
the cafeteria. At least this was *one* activity that she wouldn't land
into trouble for interrupting. Even though it was, technically, that
bespectacled *moron* who was really responsible.
Someone took over the local PA system.
{PHT! PHT! WheeeeeEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOoooeeee... PHT!} "Ahem," said
Scott's voice. "This song goes out to a very special lady who has my
heart." A guitar twanged.
_What cerebrally-challenged soul gave him that *fucking* guitar?_
At another table, Jean Grey ducked and blushed.
Scott was playing _Eidelweiss_ and losing.
A cafeteria staff member walked right past Jean with a bouquet of
wilted, white flowers, and placed them in front of Jimaine.
"Gruss Gott..." said Kurt, cringing with sympathetic mortification.
Jimaine, no longer hungry, left the table and made to flee the
building.
The song behind her came to an abrupt halt. "Jimaine! Noooo!"
She could *feel* Scott Summers racing after her. Jimaine grimaced and
increased her speed.
Behind Scott, Jean, who wasn't able to hang around long enough to
listen to what was going on, got indignant about her erstwhile wannabe
puppy-dog chasing after someone else. She rose and followed Scott to
find out what was going on.
Kurt, Evan and Amanda followed him in order to bring him down, tie him
up, and bundle him back off to the Institute.
Duncan followed Jean to find out what the matter was.
Half the school followed *them* to watch the resultant show.
Teachers rounded up all but the key participants, who were now being
chased wholesale by an extremely out-of-shape principal.
Classes were disrupted, because the kids refused to stay at their
desks whilst something interesting was happening.
In short, the entire school was bedlam.
"Go, Jimi, go!"
"Hike those skirts up an' *run*, damnit, I got three-fitty on ya!"
"That's *indecent*!" cried Kurt from below.
"Twelve bucks on the German kid..."
"You know, this scene looks familliar," said Hubert. "But there's
something missing..."
"Yaketty Sax?" said Sara.
"*That's* right," said Pietro. "Benny Hill!"
Sara put her hand to one side of her nose. "And they're heading into
the third stretch," she announced, sounding something like the bastard
offspring of Howard Cosell and every racetrack announcer ever born.
"It's Jimi, leading by a length, closely followed by Scooter and the
German kid, neck and neck with Evan and Amanda. Jean Grey is lagging
behind, but Principal Kelly is still laboring in the rear... aaaannnnd
Beetlebommmmb..."
"Miss *Adrien*!"
Pietro had obtained a saxaphone from somewhere and began supplying
what he thought was the missing element.
"Mister Maximov!"
The class on the floor above started a chant, "Scoot! Scoot! Scoot!
Scoot! Scoot! Scoot! Scoot!"
Another class began a second one, "Jimi! Jimi! Jimi! Jimi! Jimi!"
Others just started throwing classroom detritous out the window, some
aiming to hobble the 'contestants' below.
"Where's *Duncan*?" wondered Rogue. "I thought he was tryin' to talk
to Jean."
"I think I saw him making book in the hallways," said Risty. "Isn't
gambling supposed to be illegal in this state?"
"Don't look at me, I don't gamble."
Jimaine was, to put it politely, bloody furious. Were she alone with
the moron, she'd simply incinerate him and that would be the end of
that. As it was, she was hard pressed keeping a head start on the boy,
even with a few fleet-foot incantations helping her along.
Showing her *legs* to the world in order to run faster would just be
the final indignity.
She was *positive* the entirety of Heirelgart would hear about it in
seconds. Jimi Szardos, showing her legs to God and everyone. Shameful!
The Centaurs would *never* shut *up*...
Sorceress or no, gossip was a hard thing to escape.
Maybe someone *else* could do with a subtle fleet-foot spell. The
negro boy. Everyone *knew* that their kind had to be faster than the
leopards.
Muttering under her breath as she went, Jimaine drew sigils in the
air, then tossed the spell at the negro's feet.
Evan didn't know where the burst of speed came from, but he legged it
at top speed towards Scott and flying-tackled him in a move that had the
entire school hooting and hollering. After him, Kurt and Amanda wound up
in the tackle, holding him down long enough for Principal Kelly and Jean
to catch them up.
Both were out of breath and holding the other up as they staggered
towards the melee.
"But I gave her Eidelweiss," Scott whimpered. "It's *romantic*...
Where did I go wrong?"
"Dude," said Evan, even though he *knew* talking to him was a lost
cause. "You should have put them in water."
"You *should* have put your car top up," said Amanda, "and kept 'em
out of the sun."
"You should have kept your money," said Kurt. Then he yelled in
Scott's ear, "She's not interested, man!"
"Jimaine," Scott sobbed. "Jimaine..."
"I thought you locked the door!"
"I thought *you* locked the door!"
"*I* locked the door," said the Professor. "Scott went out the
window."
"D'oh!" said Amanda.
"On the upside," said Evan, "at least we know it's *working*."
"Unfortunately, the influence of both the spells is interfering with
my telepathic link. Even if I use Cerebro, I'd have trouble tracking him
down."
"D'OH!"
A taxi pulled up outside the gate.
"Kurt's home early," said the Professor. "Oh dear."
"What?" said Evan.
"I know where Scott is..."
They looked out the window. Logan was helping peel Scott free of a
tarpaulin, with the assistance of the cabbie and a highly-repulsed-
looking Kurt. Together, they escorted him - at arm's length - back to
the institute.
"Concussion," said Logan.
"Believe me, it's an improvement," said Kurt. "Whoever told him that
singing _Greensleeves_ to Jimaine was funny aught to listen to his
*singing* for a whole verdammt *hour*."
"No need to get vicious, Elf," said Logan.
"Um," said Evan. "Actually, it was sort of his own idea."
"He broke out on us," said Amanda. "We had no idea how quickly the
spell would work."
"Spell?" echoed Kurt, making little hex signs by his hip. "What sort
of spell?"
"It's like this..." Evan began.
"Let me get this straight," said Kurt. "Mysticism mucks up Sorcery."
"Yeah."
"But *only* if you cast the same sort of spell on the same person," he
continued.
"That's right," said Evan. Amanda had had to go home after one too
many longing looks.
"So you guys cast a love spell on Scott - to *counter* a love spell
Jimaine cast on him."
"That's right."
"Why the heck would Jimaine cast a love spell on *Scott*?" Kurt
wondered. "It's me she-- (unh)..." his jaws clenched together.
Obviously, this was one of the things Jimaine didn't want him to talk
about. "...verdammt." He changed the subject. "So why isn't he trying to
chase Amanda?"
"'Cause the first spell has precedence," said Evan. "It's had a longer
time to dig in, and before the spell implodes, it's going to get
stronger."
"Eurgh..." said Kurt. "We're going to have to tie him down."
Jimaine was ticked, and the day hadn't even started yet. She'd been
primed and ready to enact her plan and that *idiot* with the sunglasses
had to ruin everything.
Now she had three days before the fertility spell wore off in which to
bed the demon-boy and get pregnant with his spawn. If she failed, she'd
have to wait another *month* before trying again.
An entire month of avoiding suspicion and enforcing her hold on the
demon. An entire month of threatening his alleged friends. Jimaine
didn't know if she could maintain that much effort.
Maybe if she threatened them with similar things. Yes. Tell Kurt's
friends that the demon's life was in peril if they didn't leave things
be - and tell *Kurt* that his friends' lives were in peril if he didn't
do as she willed.
Perfect.
What she couldn't understand was where the flows of her magic were
going to. According to her reading, last night, her spell was working.
She could tell that she had a soul enwrapped by her magic; yet Kurt was
acting - normally.
Well. Normally for *him*.
Jimaine went to her homeroom and tried to think things through. Mayhap
he had some sort of luck charm on him. Lord knew that mud-magics like
mysticism wrought hell on sorcery. She'd have to frisk him at a later
date. Or add a compulsion that *her* magical amulets were much better
than the homemade ones.
So much *investment* for a minion and protector that wouldn't be able
to act for a handful of years, at least. And if she accelerated its
growth, she'd have to put up with it having the mind of an imbecile.
_The Winding Way is *such* a pain..._ But then, every magic had its
prices and flaws. And laws.
"Flowers for a Jimaine Sezardos?"
_What the--?_ "That's Szardos," she said. "What's this about?"
The courier handed over a dozen long-stem red roses. "Message from -
uh- Scott Sumners. Ahem. 'Roses are red, Violets are blue, I hope that
this proves that I love you'."
That sunglasses-wearing freak was going to die. Slowly and painfully.
Over the passage of *years*. "Thank you," she grimaced, then thrust the
roses at the nearest person. "Here. Pretend somebody loves you."
"Thanks," said the overtall, thin and androgynous being at the next
desk. "But I don't swing that way. Try Hubert."
"...rrrrr..." said Jimaine.
"Hey, Kitty."
Kitty turned. Hubert was holding a dozen red roses. Long-stemmed and
thornless. "Oh *wow*. Hubert... You didn't have to go and do *this*..."
she blushed. "How could you *afford* it?"
"Well. Um. They're sorta second-hand. There's this girl in homeroom,
and she got flowers, and she didn't want them, and they were just gonna
be thrown out. Andum. I thought they aughta go to someone special."
Hubert was turning beetroot-red and mumbling by the time he finished his
speech.
Kitty giggled. "Oh, that's so *sweet*," she squeaked. "Nobody's given
me flowers. Like, *ever*." She gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek,
then hugged the bouquet and squealed. "Thankyou, thankyou, thankyou,
thankyou, *thankyou*!"
"...wow..." said Hubert, watching her dance down the hall.
"Mister Hubert Hughes?" said a MiB. He was standing in a group of
three MiBs.
_Uh oh._ "Not me," he lied. "You want *that* guy," he said, pointing
out Duncan Matthews. "He'll try to tell you he's someone else and show
you fake ID and stuff, but he's really Hughes."
"Thank you for your time." The MiBs stalked towards Duncan.
Hubert raced away as fast as he could go. _I'm in it. I'm in it deep._
MiBs didn't exactly listen to tales of woe or true love. Maybe he could
get Kitty to call him by a pet name for a week or so.
"Candygram for a Jimaine -er- Sizardos?"
"Szardos," said Jimaine. She had a sneaking suspicion by now that
something had gone awry. *Very* awry.
This time it was a heart-shaped box of chocolates. Cheap chocolates.
And the courier had already eaten all the caramel curls.
"There's a message, too. From a Scott-- I can't read the last name.
Some kinda season."
"Get on with it," sighed Jimaine.
"Ahem. 'Sugar and candy, and chocolate too. These treats are sweet,
but never as sweet as you." He held his hand out for a tip.
"You may go away. And next time, don't eat the chocolates."
"*Or* interrupt a class," added Mr Stevens. "Miss Szardos, could you
please tell your boyfriend to keep his courting activities
*extra*curricular?"
"He's not my boyfriend," said Jimaine, passing the untouched box to
Hubert.
"Chocolates *too*?" squealed Kitty. "Oh *wow*..."
"Someone already ate the caramel curls," Hubert appologised. "Same
story as with the flowers, I'm afraid. But when it rains pennies, you
know..." he shrugged.
"Look... Hubie... It doesn't matter how you got 'em. I don't even mind
that like, someone ate the caramel curls. They like, totally give me
pimples anyway. It's just so like, *cool* to get like, *candy*." Kitty
bounced up and down with glee. "You're like, the sweetest guy *ever*!"
Hubert grinned. "You mean it?"
"Yeah! I'm like, so totally like, appologetic that I thought about you
like you were like, Idunno. I had you like, *completely* pegged wrong."
She giggled and jumped some more before hugging the stuffing out of
Hubert. "Thankyou, thankyou, thankyou, thankyou, thankyou, thankyou,
thankyou, thankyou, thankyoooooouuu..."
"...wow..." said Hubert.
Kitty giggled and shrieked all the way to her next class.
"Pst!" Kitty nudged Kurt on the arm. Once she had his attention, she
took a strawberry cream and ate it in front of him. "Nah, nah. I got
chocolates and you don't."
"Real mature," said Kurt. "Candygram chocolates are the *worst*." He
made a face. "If you want *real* chocolate, there's only four countries
to go to: Switzerland, Belgium, Germany and Australia. Chocolate made in
America is just - cheap."
"When you're *quite* done comparing delicacies?"
Kurt blushed and cringed in his seat. "Sorry, mein Herr..."
"Hey there, li'l lady," said a bizarre vision in a polyester jumpsuit,
glittering cape, over-the-top pompadour with mutton-chop sideburns and
an enormous pair of sunglasses. "Ah'm here t' give a message to a
Jimaine Svardos?"
"Szardos," Jimaine sighed. "You're going to do something hideously
embaressing aren't you?" And it wasn't even lunchtime...
He struck a pose, "There's a special guy out there who loves you
tender with a real hunka hunka burnin' lurve. And if you don't be true,
you're nuthin' but a hound dawg; so don't say only fools rush in,
because he'd be all shook up. Don't have a wooden heart, and say
you'll be his teddy bear. This song is for you, darlin'..." He cleared
his throat, bought his guitar to the front, and started singing _Don't
Be Cruel_.
Well, at least he could *sing*. Jimaine cringed on the spot as gawkers
gathered in the hallway around her. _Years aren't enough,_ she decided.
_I'm going to take *decades*. I'll make him my *hobby*. Like
needlepoint, only bloodier._
It was at this point that she noticed the teddy bear tucked into the
man's belt, and cringed even further. If it were possible, the heat
rushing to her face would have started fires.
The song wound to a close, thank the Goddess, and the man in the
outrageous costume pressed the teddy bear, bedecked in a similar costume
to his, into her arms.
"Ladiesan'gennulmen, you'vebeenawunnerfulaudience," he mumbled,
tossing a little salute and striding out of sight.
"That was - surreal," said an observer.
Jimaine dropped the bear into the nearest trash bin.
"The Elvis impersonator has *left* the building," announced another
wit.
_Thank the *Goddess*..._ Jimaine thought.
Kitty and Hubert, who'd been standing together to watch the show,
looked at the alleged prize as it lay on top of a bunch of rejected
printouts.
"I don't know about you," said Hubert, "but I'm not touching *that*
with a forty-foot barge pole."
"Ew. Like, me neither." Kitty made a face. "Like, who'd *want* an
Elvis teddy bear?"
"Elvis teddy bear?" echoed one of the teachers, who was trying to
disperse the crowds. It was Mrs Engelhardt. She gasped in delight and
rescued the thing from the trash. "Oh, *wonderful*," she squeaked. "You
just can't *buy* these!" She dusted it off. "*You* are going in my prize
display cabinet, young man." She whisked away, grinning like the
proverbial cat.
Kitty and Hubert stared.
"I am like, *never* looking at Mrs Engelhardt the same way again."
"Calculus will never be the same," said Hubert.
"On the other hand, it does like, explain her pencil holder."
"*And* those mysterious catalogues..."
They looked at each other.
"Eeeeeeeeeeewwwwwww..." they chorused.
Lunch. Jimaine breathed a sigh of relief as she sat with the demon in
the cafeteria. At least this was *one* activity that she wouldn't land
into trouble for interrupting. Even though it was, technically, that
bespectacled *moron* who was really responsible.
Someone took over the local PA system.
{PHT! PHT! WheeeeeEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOoooeeee... PHT!} "Ahem," said
Scott's voice. "This song goes out to a very special lady who has my
heart." A guitar twanged.
_What cerebrally-challenged soul gave him that *fucking* guitar?_
At another table, Jean Grey ducked and blushed.
Scott was playing _Eidelweiss_ and losing.
A cafeteria staff member walked right past Jean with a bouquet of
wilted, white flowers, and placed them in front of Jimaine.
"Gruss Gott..." said Kurt, cringing with sympathetic mortification.
Jimaine, no longer hungry, left the table and made to flee the
building.
The song behind her came to an abrupt halt. "Jimaine! Noooo!"
She could *feel* Scott Summers racing after her. Jimaine grimaced and
increased her speed.
Behind Scott, Jean, who wasn't able to hang around long enough to
listen to what was going on, got indignant about her erstwhile wannabe
puppy-dog chasing after someone else. She rose and followed Scott to
find out what was going on.
Kurt, Evan and Amanda followed him in order to bring him down, tie him
up, and bundle him back off to the Institute.
Duncan followed Jean to find out what the matter was.
Half the school followed *them* to watch the resultant show.
Teachers rounded up all but the key participants, who were now being
chased wholesale by an extremely out-of-shape principal.
Classes were disrupted, because the kids refused to stay at their
desks whilst something interesting was happening.
In short, the entire school was bedlam.
"Go, Jimi, go!"
"Hike those skirts up an' *run*, damnit, I got three-fitty on ya!"
"That's *indecent*!" cried Kurt from below.
"Twelve bucks on the German kid..."
"You know, this scene looks familliar," said Hubert. "But there's
something missing..."
"Yaketty Sax?" said Sara.
"*That's* right," said Pietro. "Benny Hill!"
Sara put her hand to one side of her nose. "And they're heading into
the third stretch," she announced, sounding something like the bastard
offspring of Howard Cosell and every racetrack announcer ever born.
"It's Jimi, leading by a length, closely followed by Scooter and the
German kid, neck and neck with Evan and Amanda. Jean Grey is lagging
behind, but Principal Kelly is still laboring in the rear... aaaannnnd
Beetlebommmmb..."
"Miss *Adrien*!"
Pietro had obtained a saxaphone from somewhere and began supplying
what he thought was the missing element.
"Mister Maximov!"
The class on the floor above started a chant, "Scoot! Scoot! Scoot!
Scoot! Scoot! Scoot! Scoot!"
Another class began a second one, "Jimi! Jimi! Jimi! Jimi! Jimi!"
Others just started throwing classroom detritous out the window, some
aiming to hobble the 'contestants' below.
"Where's *Duncan*?" wondered Rogue. "I thought he was tryin' to talk
to Jean."
"I think I saw him making book in the hallways," said Risty. "Isn't
gambling supposed to be illegal in this state?"
"Don't look at me, I don't gamble."
Jimaine was, to put it politely, bloody furious. Were she alone with
the moron, she'd simply incinerate him and that would be the end of
that. As it was, she was hard pressed keeping a head start on the boy,
even with a few fleet-foot incantations helping her along.
Showing her *legs* to the world in order to run faster would just be
the final indignity.
She was *positive* the entirety of Heirelgart would hear about it in
seconds. Jimi Szardos, showing her legs to God and everyone. Shameful!
The Centaurs would *never* shut *up*...
Sorceress or no, gossip was a hard thing to escape.
Maybe someone *else* could do with a subtle fleet-foot spell. The
negro boy. Everyone *knew* that their kind had to be faster than the
leopards.
Muttering under her breath as she went, Jimaine drew sigils in the
air, then tossed the spell at the negro's feet.
Evan didn't know where the burst of speed came from, but he legged it
at top speed towards Scott and flying-tackled him in a move that had the
entire school hooting and hollering. After him, Kurt and Amanda wound up
in the tackle, holding him down long enough for Principal Kelly and Jean
to catch them up.
Both were out of breath and holding the other up as they staggered
towards the melee.
"But I gave her Eidelweiss," Scott whimpered. "It's *romantic*...
Where did I go wrong?"
"Dude," said Evan, even though he *knew* talking to him was a lost
cause. "You should have put them in water."
"You *should* have put your car top up," said Amanda, "and kept 'em
out of the sun."
"You should have kept your money," said Kurt. Then he yelled in
Scott's ear, "She's not interested, man!"
"Jimaine," Scott sobbed. "Jimaine..."