A/N: I hate Angel. I actually hate all the special class students except Dummy. And, of course, Marvel killed him. Typical. Anyway, if I seem mean to her, it's because I hate her. Right.
Disclaimer:
"Hello, you've reached the brain of David Haller. There's no one here to take your call right now. Please leave a message and we'll get back to you. Beeep" -Professor Charles Francis Xavier's subconscious, X-Factor #70
Angel Salvatore stretched languidly as she rose from her bed, careful not to disturb Beak, who was muttering in his sleep. Naked, she opened her windows to let in the fresh air, smirking when a fellow student, a flyer, glanced up and saw her. He immediately dropped to the ground in surprise.
Still smiling, she carefully closed the drapes and moved to grab her robe. As she did so, she passed by her dresser mirror. She froze, one arm in the robe, before slowly turning her head to confirm what she'd seen was true.
"SOMEONE'S GONNA DIE!!"
There are certain set rules at the Xavier Institute that, while not in any book, are broken only on pain of whatever a group of adolescent mutants decided to do. One of them is that you don't wake anyone up on the weekends, barring alien invasions, sentinel attacks, or other Bad Things. Therefore, the shout of rage caused several other students to yell back, waking up those few fortunate souls who had slept through Angel's tirade.
Leslie, who had only recently fallen asleep, grinned into her pillow before returning to the warm bliss. One down, one to go…
Dani Moonstar, recently returned to Xavier's to teach, stopped in the hallway and stared at the irate girl passing her.
It wasn't her gossamer wings that drew Dani's attention—she'd seen odder things. No, it was the…well…crude (read: just short of pornographic) images that someone had drawn onto them with what Dani guessed was a permanent marker. The more, shall we say, "sensitive" areas of the figures were covered in glitter that had been super-glued on.
Maybe it's not too late to join X-Corps…
Leslie had worked hard to ensure that her second prank went off. She'd risen early every morning since Logan had reported her, gathering information, timing him, making sure she knew exactly what he was going to do at each second.
Luckily for her, Logan, like his animal namesake, was a creature of habit. Every morning he performed the same routine, and it was his first stop that Leslie planned to use to his advantage.
Logan entered the Danger Room, snapping out his claws as he called up his favorite program. He tensed as the room darkened and the scenery shifted to that of a deserted battlefield, already red with the blood of fallen men.
His sensitive ears picked up the sound of footsteps. He spun, slashing, expecting Sabretooth. Instead, he saw…
"What the hell are you?" he demanded of the three brown creatures in front of him. One wore a green shirt, one red, and one blue.
"We're the Chipmunks!" the three declared in high-pitched, whiny voiced.
"And we're the Chippettes!" Three equally whiny, but female, voices from behind him added.
Logan narrowed his eyes, growling. "End program." Instead of obeying him, the computer produced hundreds of little blue creatures.
"What the flaming hell is going on?!"
"La, la, la la, la la, la, la la, la la, la…"
In her bed, Leslie chuckled as she sensed Logan's desperation as he clawed at the adamantium-enforced walls of the Danger Room. Wait until he meet the Care Bears…She snickered as she fell back to sleep, wondering if anyone would find him before noon.
A/N: Yeah, it's shorter, but I wrote this at the same time I wrote the interlude, and together they're about the length of one normal chapter. Plus, it seemed like a good place to end it.