A/N:  Ahem, little note, not supporting under-age drinking in any way.  Just thought I should mention that. 

            Disclaimer: 

               "We are all but players in a tragedy far larger than any of us. A tragedy called       
               life, Logan. But today, for you, perhaps for me, the curtain falls… and the play     
               is finished.     
               Magneto X-Men 25

            The jackhammers were annoying.

            That was Leslie's first conscious thought the next morning. 

            Her second thought was that the bathroom wasn't close enough, and the garbage can would just have to do.

            Exhausted, she lay back in bed, trying to keep her head on.

            "Rough night, kid?"

            Yelping, she turned over to see Wolverine grinning sadistically at her from her desk.

            "You.  I thought you were supposed to keep me from overdoing it."

            He shrugged unrepentantly.  "You were already drunk when I got there.  Besides, drinking temporarily dulls my senses."

            Groaning, she flopped back and stared at her eyelids.  "Now I remember why I never drink."

            "Good, cause you've got class in twenty."

            "WHAT?!" Leslie demanded.  She sat up too quickly, emptying her stomach again.

            Logan scrunched his nose in distaste.  "Class.  You do remember what a class is, right?"

            "You're evil."  She commented from her place on the bed.

            "No one told you to get drunk."

            "Go to hell."

            "Sorry, kid, other plans for today."  Still grinning, he swaggered out of the room, pausing at the door.  "By the way, I told Hank about your stunt.  He's insisting you get counseling."

            His only answer was a thrown pillow and the sound of retching.

            Dealing with this joke I call a life on a normal day is bad enough, but dealing with it hung over?  Not going to be fun.

            Especially when I have Emma first block. 

            I hope someone's enjoying this, case I sure as hell ain't.

            Julia gasped when she saw Leslie.  "What happened to you?" she hissed, eyes wide.

            "Don't. Ask."

            "Did you finish the book?"

            "Too loud.  No talking."

            Confused, Julia was about to demand an explanation when Emma looked up from her desk.  "If you're all finished," she said sarcastically.

            Julia quickly pulled out her notebook.  Leslie just groaned and put her head in her hands.

            Emma quickly took role then went to the front of the room.  She surveyed her class, then smiled maliciously at Leslie.  "Miss Corring."

            Leslie forced her head up. "Yes?"

            "Tell me about the character of Marion."

            "…I can't.  Sorry."

            Emma raised a delicate eyebrow.  "Really?  Then tell me about any character.  You chose."

            "I can't, though I'm sure someone else can."

            Quiet giggles erupted in the back of the room.  Damn Cuckoos…

            "I didn't ask anyone else.  I asked you.  How much of the book did you finish?"

            Leslie felt like throwing the bloody book at her.  "I didn't read any of it," she forced out between gritted teeth.

            Emma pulled herself up to her full height.  "Miss Corring, this is a difficult class.  If you aren't up to the work, perhaps you should transfer to a less…requiring class.  Unless, of course, you had more pressing work last night?"

            Leslie looked up at her, ready to snap something nasty, then grinned.  "It just drives you nuts that you can't read my mind, doesn't it?"

            Silence.  You did not say things like that to the White Queen.  Julia was frantically motioning for Leslie to shut up.  Leslie ignored her.

            Emma's cold smile had totally disappeared.  "I don't know what things were like at your previous school, but here students show respect for teachers."

            "Sorry, I have trouble respecting anyone who goes around wearing less than a Victoria's Secret model."  Ignoring Emma's furious expression and her classmates' shocked looks, Leslie calmly picked up her bag and left the room.

            Once outside, she leaned against the wall.  Her head was about to fall off, she was sure of it.

            But damn, she'd enjoyed that.

            "Hank?" she called, walking into the lab she'd grown familiar with.  Leslie wrinkled her nose at the smell of antiseptic and…sugar?

            "Leslie?  What on earth are you doing here?  I thought you were being instructed in the works of the great literary minds."

            You know, his fancy-talk gets really annoying after awhile.  "Emma and I had…a disagreement."  Seeing the curious look on his face, she elaborated.  "She annoyed me.  I left."

            "That may not have been the wisest of paths to take with Ms Frost."

            "I could care less what she thinks of me," Leslie said carelessly, flopping into a chair across from him.  Eyeing a wrapper, she picked it up.  "Twinkies, I presume?"

            Hank's eyes twinkled.  "The food of the gods."

            "Ugh.  Well, Cookie Monster, you want to rot your teeth, knock yourself out."

            Hank laughed.  "I'm pleased that you've gotten over your fear of me."

            Leslie blushed.  "I-I wasn't afraid of you," she lied, then, seeing the look on his face, gave up.  "How'd you know?"

            He tapped his nose.  "Smelled it."

            Still blushing, she pulled her knees to her chest.  "I'm…still afraid, to tell you the truth.  But…not like I was.  Not of you, at least."

            Hank eyed her curiously.  "Then, if I may be so bold to ask, which member of our angst-convention known as the X-Men is it that scares you still?"

            "Kurt," she admitted, holding her knees tighter.  "But…don't tell him, okay?  He was nice.  I wouldn't want him hurt, or anything."

            "You're secret, mademoiselle, is as safe as if in Fort Knox.  But I assure you, you have nothing to fear from our favorite elf."

            "Look, let's drop it, okay?  I just came to tell you that I don't need counseling.  I'm fine.  Really.  Well, probably a little psychotic, but fine."  She grinned, trying to convince him.

            It didn't work.  "I highly doubt that you are fine.  Students who are 'fine' do not go out and get drunk in the middle of the night."

            "In my defense, I'm not a normal student."

            "No, you're not.  More reason for the counseling."

            Sighing, Leslie threw her legs out and glared at him.  "Are you going to tell them?"

            "No.  I leave that up to you, if and when you feel ready."  Seeing the look in her eyes, he reached out and engulfed her hand in his paw.  "This is for you, Leslie.  To make it easier for you."

            She snorted.  "Yeah, right.  But if ya insist, ya insist."  She stood up, then, wincing, looked at him.  "But can I at least have something for my head?"

            I will hurt him.  He had NO right to go and tell Hank.  He will die, slowly and painfully.

            I just don't know how, yet.

            Trying not to move, Leslie stared at her ceiling.  After talking to Hank, she'd skipped the rest of her classes and slept.  Sleep was good.  Sleep and the Tylenol Hank'd given her were all that were keeping her from collapsing. 

            A herd of elephants crashed into her door.  Groaning, Leslie managed to yell, "Come in!" before flopping back against the pillow. 

            Bobby burst in, slamming the door behind him.

            "AAAHHH!! Not so loud!  Dying person!"

            Ignoring her, he proceeded to ice up her entire wall that touched the hallway.

            Curiosity getting the better of her, much to her chagrin, she sat up.  "Why are you freezing my wall?"

            Frantic, Bobby turned around, searching for an exit.  "Do those windows open?" 

            "Bobby!  WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

            "Remember how you told me Rogue's real name?"

            "Marie?  Yeah, why?"

            "Well, I sorta sent her an e-mail…"

            Totally aware now, Leslie jumped up next to him.  "What?"

            "…and she didn't take it real well…"

            "BOBBY!"

            A shuddering of the wall caused Bobby to thrust his iced-up fist through her window.  "Look, I'll fix your room later, okay?"

            The ice was starting to crack. 

            "You are not leaving me here alone!" she yelled, grabbing his arm.  "I'm the one who told you!"

            The ice chose that moment to collapse.

            "Then hang on!" he yelled, grabbing her and jumping through the window, forming an ice-slide as he went.

            "DRAKE!  AH'M GONNA KILL YA!"  Wow, Rogue sounds pissed!

            "You won't have to worry about her if I get to you first!" Leslie yelled in his ear, clinging on for dear life.  She glanced over his shoulder and saw one very angry Southern Belle.  "Go faster!! FASTER!!'

            "Think we can blame this on Kurt?"

            " 'We?' What 'we?'  No, don't go down! Up! UP!!  ARGGHH, that's a tree!  I did not need a mouth full of leaves, thank you!!"

            "If your mouth had been closed, the leaves wouldn't have gotten in!  Besides, we made it!"

            "Again with that 'we.'  This is your fault, Popsicle!  I didn't tell you to go e-mail Rogue!"

            "I doubt she'll see it that way!"

            "I know things about you too, Frost-bite.  Be careful.  Very careful!"

            "HAH!  What do you know about me?  I'm an open book!"

            "Watch out for the pole!!  I know what's happening to you."

            "…I don't know what you're talking about."

            "Oh, yes, you do, Drake!  You're changing to ice and can't go back.  Bobby!!  BRANCH!!!"

            CCCRRRRAAAASSHHH!!!

            Groaning, Leslie rubbed the back of her head.  Bobby was lying next to her on the ground, staring at her.  "…I won't tell.  I promise," she said softly, extending her hand.

            Gingerly, he took it.  "We need to talk," he whispered, before plastering on a cheesy grin.  "Rogue!  Was that you calling for me?"

            I knew I should have staid in bed today, Leslie thought as she sat back down with her back against the tree, resting her head.  She could die sitting down, same as standing up.

            Rogue was not happy.  "Bobby," she hissed, grabbing him by the neck and slamming him against the tree.  "How?"

            "…am I doing?  Well, having a bit of trouble breathing, but otherwise I'm fine, thanks, how—urk!"

            Rogue tightened her grip.  "That's not what I meant."

            "If you're going to kill him, would you mind waiting til he fixes my room?  I really don't need water stains everywhere," Leslie said.

            Rogue dropped Bobby.  "Who are you?"

            "Leslie.  I'm the one who told him your real name," she said cheerfully.

            Bobby stared at her, rubbing his throat.  "You're insane."

            "Probably.  But don't forget, I'm also hung over!"

            "How," Rogue said threateningly, "did you know my name?"

            "Oh, easy.  I'm from an alternate universe where all this is just a comic book.  By the way, I gotta say, your relationship with Remy?  Sooooo annoying.  It's like a bad episode of 'Friends."  'Ah love Remy, Ah hate Remy, Ah love Remy, Ah hate Remy!'  Really, get over it!  Come on, Bobby, you've gotta fix my room."  With that, she grabbed Bobby's arm and led him toward the Institute, leaving a very confused Rogue to search for someone to explain it to her.

            "How did you do that?"

            "Easy.  My life's driving me nuts, I just thought about what it'd do to her.  Besides, I couldn't think of a way to blame it on Kurt."