A/N:  ::glares at screen:: I should be translating Le Fantôme de L'Opéra.  Should is the keyword, cause I sure as hell ain't touching it write now!  I don't care anymore about Christine, or Raoul, or Erik.  (In English, though, it's an excellent book.  Not in French.  I hate French right now.)  Grrr…Oh, well, hope your day was better than mine.  Enjoy.  Oh, and anyone notice something very odd about Leslie's powers?  If you do, than you've picked up on something very important to the story.

Disclaimer:

"Yon coffee machine is misbehaving again, Shipmaster."
"Well, just *hit* it or something."
"Yon coffee machine has spat on my uniform. I may *kill* yon coffee machine."

-- Raza and Corsair, unknown issue, unknown title

            Leslie stood impatiently against the wall, waiting for class to start.  She hated combat training with a passion.  She wasn't physical is any way, shape, or form of the word.  She hated running, hated exercising, and hated fighting. 

            Of course, she admitted, things have changed a bit.  In this new world she lived in, every mutant needed to know how to fight.  That, and to have a will.  Still, the idea of the little girl who cried at Bambi learning how to incapacitate someone brought a smile to her face.

            She looked up as she felt the strange of loyalty and rage that was Wolverine approach.  A moment later he entered the room, the feral grin on his face and in his spirit warning her that something was up.  Oh, shit…Leslie sensed two other men coming.  Recognizing their essences, she suddenly realized she should have stayed in bed.  Whatever was coming, it couldn't be good.

            "Get yer asses over here," Logan called to his class as he stood in the center of the room.  Reluctantly, Leslie obeyed, wrinkling her nose at the stench of his cigar, which he seemed to have no intent of putting out.

            He puffed away for a moment before continuing.  "You all've been lazy these last few classes.  'S'obvious that most of ya haven't been practicing.  So…" his grin, if possible, widened.  "…today yer gonna have some motivation."

            The door burst opened.  While the rest of her class turned towards the door, Leslie said a prayer that she wouldn't die.  She sadly turned toward the door as well, having the very bad feeling that No One up there was listening right now.  Probably too busy laughing at my sorry excuse for a life…

            Angel and Cyclops, dressed in their uniforms, had entered and now stood with Logan.  "So, kiddies, today we see if ya can use anything I've been trying to drill into yer thick skulls this year."

            Leslie had a very healthy sense of self-preservation.  That sense was currently telling her to run like a bat outta Hell.  Leslie, very calmly, pointed out to it the fact that Wolverine would just find her wherever she went.  It asked her if she want to die now or later.

            Compromising, Leslie raised her hand.

            Logan looked at her.  "Yeah?"

            "Um…I haven't been here all year…"

            He grinned at her.  "Then this will be an experience fer ya, won't it?"

            "Right.  That's what I thought," she sighed, lowering her hand.

            To her surprise, Logan appeared to be considering her words.  "Okay, kid, ya can use yer powers, but not offensively."

            Oh, great, and that will help me how?  Wisely, though, Leslie kept that thought to herself.

            Logan rubbed his hands together.  He is enjoying this waaaay too much.  Sadistic man.  "Okay, Angel, yer with Angel, Tray, with Cyclops, and Ken, with me."

            Leslie stiffened at the sudden sense of panic overwhelming all three of them.  And, incidentally, her.

            "Rest of ya, watch.  Maybe one of ya will actually learn something."

            Leslie sat cross-legged, wondering if she should leave anything in her will to Julia, or just let the Professor take it all back.  Not a single student had won a fight, and she was sure she'd have to go soon.

            Morosely, she watched Warren and Sammy—or Squiddy, as she secretly thought of him.  They were circling each other warily, looking for an opening.

            ~Go left, open, got him~

            Leslie blinked as a strange feeling washed over her-not an emotion she was used to, but something new, a sense of doing, of decision.  To her amazement, Warren dove to his left, grabbing Sammy's ankle and pulling it with him, causing Sammy to fall on his face.

            Suddenly, Leslie felt much better about the upcoming match.

            What was I thinking?!

            Leslie had already spent fifteen minutes sparring with Scott Summers and, while he hadn't tagged her yet, neither had she tagged him.  Plus, she was getting tired, while he seemed to just be catching his second wind.  She wondered how much longer she could keep this up.  Most of the other students had already lost their fights and left, after being assigned hideous amounts of exercises to do.

            Stupid Logan.  I could end this now, if not for him.  Silently groaning, she rolled to the side, avoiding a well-aimed kick.  "That the best you can do?" she said brightly, forcing a taunting smile as she responded with a kick of her own.  Rule #1: when people get mad, they're sloppy.

            Apparently, though, Scott had heard of that rule as well.  He merely smiled back at her while avoiding her attack.  "No.  It isn't."

            As Remy would say, merde!  Scott, it seemed, was as fed up with this as she was.  He came at her, throwing several blows in rapid succession, and if not for her powers she would be in La-la Land.  This is not good.

            That last thought was her mistake.  In that second she spared to think it, she was distracted.  Scott chose that moment to tackle her, grabbing her right arm in his own and twisting it behind her back while choking her with his left arm.  "Sloppy, Leslie."

            Softly, so not even Logan could hear her, Leslie hissed back at him, "At least I'm not having an affair!"

            It was an irrelevant comment.  Had nothing to do with what was going on.  But it did exactly what Leslie intended it to.

            Scott let out a quiet gasp and slightly loosened his grip.  That was all Leslie needed.  Now that she had leverage room, she shifted her weight onto her left foot, bringing her right one sharply up behind her into his stomach.  He bent forward in pain, and Leslie used his momentum to flip him over her shoulder.  He lay on the ground, gasping.

            Leslie bent down slightly, hands on her knees.  "I win."

            Her only response was a groan of pain.

            Okay, so it was a fluke.  Could I do it again?  Hell, no!  That man, all things aside, is one damn good fighter.  But I still enjoy knowing that I beat Cyclops.  And I really enjoyed the expression on his face when he was lying on the ground.  From the laughter, I gather Warren and Logan did, too.

            Besides, he should suffer somewhat for cheating on his wife.

            Right?

            "Come on, Les, you've gotta meet some other people!" Julia declared, dragging her friend down the hall.

            Leslie resisted.  "Julia.  I don't want to meet anyone else.  More people equals more emotions equals bigger headache for me.  No.  Are you even listening?"

            "Nope!" Julia declared cheerfully.  "If you don't come, I'll turn all of your books into bananas."

            Leslie stared at her.  "You can't."

            "Wanna bet?"

            Sighing, Leslie reluctantly let Julia pull her along.  "That was just cruel.  There are some things you just shouldn't threaten."

            "You read too much anyway."

            Leslie sniffed.  "Philistine."

            Rolling her eyes, Julia laughed. "Look at it this way, you can brag about beating Cyclops.  How'd you do it, anyway?  No offense, but when it comes to fighting, you suck."

            "How on earth could I take offense at that?" Leslie asked dryly.  "As for how I did it—trade secret."

            "What-ever."  Julia opened the door to one of the rec rooms.  "Go!  Socialize!"

            Leslie looked at her.  "You've got to be kidding."  Seeing the look on Julia's face and sensing that she was about to blow, Leslie sighed and walked in. 

            "Hey, Tray, come here!" Julia shouted.  Leslie recognized the tall blond boy from training and calculus.  She blushed as she caught a trace of appreciation from him as he looked her up and down.  You're not so bad yourself…Wisely, though, she kept that comment to herself.

            "Tray, meet the one-and-only Leslie Corring, dimension hopper extraordinaire!  Les, Tray Stevens, our resident Superman!"

            Tray rolled his eyes.  "Thanks, Julia.  Nice to meet you, Leslie."  He extended his hand, which Leslie took.

            "Likewise."

            "Well, isn't this sweet, oops, look at the time, gotta fly!" With that, Julia fled the room.

            Leslie stared after her.  "Is it just me, or were we set up?"

            "By Julia?  Probably.  Hey, wanna seat?"

            "Sure," she answered, following him to a couch.

            They sat in an uncomfortable silence for a moment before Tray broke it by coughing.  "So, you travel between dimensions?"

            "No, that was Julia's idea of a joke.  I'm from another dimension.  I'm just an empath."

            Tray's eyes widened.  "You're the one from another dimension?  The one with the comics?"

            "That's me."

            "Wow."

            The silence returned.

            "Soo…you're Superman?"

            Tray laughed.  "Another one of Julia's jokes.  I have enhanced strength and can fly."

            "Oh."

            "Yeah."

            "…Well, it was nice meeting you, Tray," Leslie said as she stood up.

            He rose with her.  "Nice meeting you too."  Leslie had to work hard this time not to turn beet-red at the sincerity he felt.  Actually, it was less the sincerity, more the attraction. 

            "Well…see you later."

            She fled to the safety of her room.

            "So?"

            Leslie looked up from her copy of Wicked: the Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West (A/N: the best book EVER!) at Julia who'd just burst into her room without knocking.  As usual.  "You left me."

            Julia waved her hand impatiently.  "Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry.  So?"

            "So what?"

            Letting out an exasperated noise, Julia pounced onto the bed, grabbing the book from Leslie's hands and throwing it over her shoulder.  She spoke quickly, not even giving Leslie a chance to protest.  "So what did you think of him?"

            Leslie sulked briefly, then answered.  "Tray was very nice."

            "Nice? Possibly the sexiest man at school was checking you out, and all you can say it that he was nice?"

            "HAH!  I knew you were trying to play matchmaker!"

            "That's not the point.  Come on, Les, really?"

            "Really, Julia?  I just met him.  He was very nice, and he's definitely hot, but he's not my type."

            "Les!  How do you know that?  Like you said, you just met him!"

            "I just know."

            Julia's eyes widened.  "Are you gay?  Is that it?"

            Leslie rolled her eyes.  "No, Julia, I'm not gay.  I just don't see Tray and me together."

            "Ooohh.  I get it.  You had a boyfriend back home, didn't ya?"

            Leslie grabbed Julia's face, forcing her to look her in the eye.  "Listen very carefully.  I.  Just.  Don't.  See.  It.  Yes, he'd hot.  Hot is good.  But I don't feel that zing, ya know?"

            Julia looked crestfallen briefly, before perking up.  "Well, too bad.  I thought he was checking you out."

            "He was."

            "Oh.  Well, plenty of fish in the sea!  I'll find someone for ya yet!  And you and Tray can be friends, I guess."

            "Gee, Julia, thanks for your permission.  What did you do for fun before I came along?  Torture puppies?"

            Julia grinned back at her.  "Shhh!  That's a secret!"

            Leslie just stared.  "…You disturb me."

            "Aw, I bet you say that to all the girls," Julia joked, batting her eyes flirtatiously as she left.

            Leslie waited until she felt Julia's essence descend the stairs before bursting out laughing into her pillow. 

            I hate dinner.

            Not the food, or the eating, of course.  Food is good.  Eating is good.  I just hate the people, all there in the cafeteria, all feeling different things.  It's enough to give a girl a migraine. 

            Tonight, though, was worse than usual.  Apparently, my escapade with Cyclops is the current hot topic.  If one more person asks me how I did it, I swear I'll scream.  Not to mention the fact that Scott keeps trying to corner me.  I really don't want to talk to him.  That just can't end well. 

            All I want is to fall asleep and have one night without nightmares.  Is that too much to ask?  Is it?

            …Probably.

            Leslie stretched out on her bed, eyes closed, trying to relax.  10:35.  Curfew had been called, but most people were still up in their rooms.  Which meant she wasn't going to sleep anytime soon.

            Sighing, Leslie reached out with her powers, scanning the school.  Hmm…Julia's asleep, God bless her twisted soul…Bobby's dreaming about…EMMA?  Ewww.  Expected, but…ewww.

            Tentatively, Leslie reached out to Kurt, not sending anything, just scanning.  An overwhelming sense of exhaustion fell over her.  Blinking, Leslie yawned, carefully backing away.  Seemed Kurt was about to go to bed.

            She smiled slightly as she sent to him.  ~Sleep.  Good.  Leave.~  Which, when received, roughly translated into "Good night."

            She felt him sleepily send the same back to her before dropping off.

            I wish I could do the same, Leslie thought ruefully.  She sat up suddenly, an idea forming.  Or can I?  Concentrating, she brought up the feeling of exhaustion she'd received from Kurt, then flung it out towards the other members of the school.

                        Fifteen minutes later, she, and the rest of the school, was fast asleep.

            ~PAIN!~

            Leslie sat bolt upright in bed, tears in her eyes.  "What the hell?" she whispered, terrified. 

            ~PAIN!~

            Kurt…Hurrying, she grabbed her robe and opened the door. She ran down the hall, not even sure where she was going, just following the link.

            Eventually, she came to what she thought was Kurt's room.  Hesitantly, she tried the knob, relieved to find it unlocked.  Opening it, she found she had been right.

            Kurt lay in his bed, still asleep, moaning and sweating.  Now that she was closer, Leslie could tell that the pain was emotional, not physical, and mixed with panic.

            Leslie hurried over to the bed, then paused, uncertain what to do.  She certainly couldn't leave him like this, if for no other reason than she'd never get back to sleep.  She thought briefly about getting a telepath, but knew that Kurt wouldn't want this to get out.

            Resignedly, she sat next to him on the bed.  Gently, she stroked his forehead while sending all the feelings of calm she could.

            ~Peace.  Calm.  Safe.~

            She repeated her litany over and over.  Eventually, she felt him relaxing slightly.  His breathing calmed, the moaning stopped.  Soon, the panic had left.

            Relieved, Leslie stopped projecting and stood to go.  Immediately, the moaning started again.  Groaning softly, Leslie sat back down and started again.

            Twice more she stood to go.  Twice more the moaning returned.  Exasperated, Leslie resigned herself to the fact that she wasn't going to be heading back to bed anytime soon.  Exhausted from the long day and extreme use of her powers, she carefully curled up on the far side of the bed from Kurt, still sending.  Despite her best attempts, she eventually fell asleep, still sending to Kurt.