A/N: Sorry for the delay, folks. Life, that pesky little bugger, found its way back to me and insists on staying. I promise chapter eight (and the first day of instruction) will be much, much better.

Much.

A/N 2.0 (12/19/03): This may come as a bit of a shock, but I'm still alive! I haven't exactly finished chapter eight yet but just to prove to you that I still care for this project, I edited this chapter (the sentence that didn't end was bugging me as I'm sure it was you) and changed a word or two within.

Now that I'm on winter break, expect chapter eight up really soon... Maybe even before Christmas!

*****

Chapter Seven: 'Twas the Week Before Classes

*****

"Your speech was marvelous, Professor."

"I agree. You had them glued to their seats... literally AND figuratively."

"I thought it was terrible."

The Professor's wheelchair ceased motion, causing Scott (who had been following close behind) to crash into his mentor's transportation and the rest of mutant faculty members to crash into him, creating a whole traffic jam in the hallway (mostly Jamie's doing; Peter, or Piotr, whichever you prefer, had been the one to hit him).

Magneto, the one who had been the root of this mess, stood on the other end of the crowd from his one-time compatriot, seemingly unfazed by the mass in front of him.

"All that talk of 'bringing together the fans of all forms of X-Men media in a positive, albeit sometimes painful, way' was just utter nonsense."

Professor Xavier sat quietly and thought. Now for those of you not all that familiar with the mannerisms of one Professor Charles Francis Xavier let me tell you why when a man of his caliber thinks, you should get the hell out of Dodge. Xavier possesses the greatest mind (barring Reed Richards, but his is more booksmarts and elasticism anyway) this planet has ever seen and he can use said mind in such a way so that all of your thought processes cease to be.

And that's when he's not even trying.

"Erik," Xavier said calmly. "I understand you're bitter because Michelle refused to let you speak on behalf of your more, shall we say, antagonistic approach to teaching the students. Ripping a student's lungs out because they can't spell 'Magneto' right just isn't a good disciplinary tactic. They're good and honest people, Erik. I'll admit that not all of them will be the future Leo Tolstoys or Nathaniel Hawthornes but at the very least we can teach them something about what it is to live in our world and be able to walk away with an idea of who we are... without extracting their lungs."

"Charles," said Magneto, his tone mocking that of the Professor's. "I understand you're a pacifistic moron who can't see that these people are no more than common drooling idiots who lust after Wolverine's bulging biceps and John's troubled yet incredibly sexy good looks. You and I, Charles, are just minor characters who steal screen time from their beloved 'lust objects.' The only reason you and I exist in the world of fanfiction is so that I can be a big mean brute to John, have him run away from the Brotherhood and in the process find true love in the arms of some made-up character claiming to be his soul mate and you can send Wolverine on some godforsaken mission to the Swiss Alps or some nonsense like that to find his long-lost daughter. You say they don't deserve to have their internal organs torn from their measly chests because they're 'good and honest people.' Well, Charles, I call it 'fair play.' They've mutilated our characters for the sake of fun; why can't we maim them for the same reason?"

If this wasn't Malcolm X versus Martin Luther King, Jr., nothing was.

"Magnus." The Master of Magnetism had just turned to walk away when he stopped mid-stride and looked back over his shoulder. "Go jump off a cliff."

So maybe nothing is Malcolm vs. Martin after all.

*****

The next four days of Orientation went without much event.

Okay, it would've been without much event if John hadn't started playing "Which Hairspray Catches Fire the Fastest?" with members of the female student body. The winner and, as it turned out, the only contestant was Jessica, who had actually liked Pyro right up until the moment her hair became a bonfire. Iceman once again had to play the fire extinguisher to John's pyromania and, in the end, gained a fangirl for his heroics. This did not help repair the hole in their already damaged relationship. Going off with Magneto and basically abandoning Bobby and his life at the mansion isn't what you would exactly call a smart move.

Hank McCoy's demeanor had soured over that four day period of preparation. But with 57 Mini-Sentinels in his keep and more coming each day, can you really blame him?

"Oh my stars and garters!" proclaimed the doctor on the afternoon of the second day. One Sentinel, Exavyer, had appeared in the med-lab unexpectedly. It had tripped Hank mid-stride and now the good doctor was nursing a twisted ankle and a bruised forehead. "How DIFFICULT is it for people to consult a book, a comic- the internet! It's almost as if they use the internet for everything but research."

Rumor had it that Michelle was going to recruit yet another doctor/scientist to help poor Doc McCoy in his plight but not a soul at XFI could venture a guess as to who.

Logan had been seen sharpening his adamantium claws at dinner one night to an even finer point than they had been before. Next to him sat Missy, polishing her nunchucku and downing a plate of chicken at the same time. Both parties were preparing their "tools of instruction" for the Physical Education class.

At breakfast on the morning of the fourth day, Michelle asked the head instructors for each class to turn in a course syllabus for their respective classes by that evening. What Michelle received on her desk that night was not would you would call "typical." It wasn't what you would call "sane," either.

The class syllabus for the "Accents and Foreign Languages" was written in half-German, half-Southern slang. In Kurt and Rogue's defense, Michelle never had specified that the syllabus couldn't not be a Teutonic/Mississippian hybrid.

Jamie signed his name on the "Lesser Characters" course thirteen times.

Scott had turned up a twenty-three page report, which felt more like a twenty-three page rant than an actual description of the course. Scott had not been too keen on being paired up with Magneto in the first place and spent ten pages expressing his dislike of the situation. Michelle was beginning to see why people thought he had a small country up his posterior.

Logan hadn't even bothered with a course description. It was probably better off that way.

Still, none of those were as bad as Magneto's syllabus for "Bad and Loving It":

ALL WILL BOW BEFORE MY MIGHT

Respectfully submitted,

Erik Magnus Lehnsherr

One night before the school year was to begin, course coordinator Michelle Solo was beginning to have a really bad feeling about this.

*****

Bed. Sleep. Good.

A good mantra, especially to those of the exhausted. Erin, as well as 98% of the student population, could be legally considered Those of the Exhausted.

Dinner the previous night had become a struggle for survival for someone in their not-so-right mind had instigated a food fight.

The lesson learned? Never start a food fight with crazy people. Especially crazy people with superhuman powers. (It had taken Erin two hours to clean the burnt mashed potatoes and frozen peas out of her hair.)

At least the beds were cozy.

When it came to the sleeping quarters, Professor Xavier had been rather generous. The rooms (which usually fit a minimum of two and a maximum of five) were well furnished; each got a four post bed, a dresser for their clothing and belongings, and a desk to do their "studies," whatever they happened to be.

This place was beginning to look up, despite its rocky beginnings. With classes starting tomorrow, and being that close to the canon characters, this place might not be as bad as Erin thought it was.

And it was right about there that Erin's ears began to bleed.