Of Hearth and Home
Chapter Five: Wishful Sinful
Derek sauntered slowly down the hall. The mansion was quiet – as everyone was in school.
He smiled at the memory of the morning rush. What began as a lazy stirring of people soon culminated in to a veritable frenzy of activity that – at it's very apex – vanished; leaving him alone.
Well, mostly. Logan was downstairs reading the newspaper and he had seen Professor X slip quietly in to his study. And he was certain that there were others – strewn about the mansion.
Derek stopped and admired the clock in the hall. It was obviously an antique. It stood near as tall as he did and was made of a deep red wood that had taken so much polish over the years that it reflected his image.
Finally, after drinking it in he let his eyes crawl over the face of the clock.
He paused. Reading the hands was difficult for him and he furrowed his brow.
He understood the clock – Meaning that he understood it was an instrument for measuring time and keeping appointments. It was the face that threw him.
The amount of time between the hands seemed to be dwindling like fire while the larger area was flowing across the face of the clock like an ocean. It was an equation in his mind – less fire meant more water – it was obvious.
What seemed ludicrous to him was to meter out your day by firelight and the flow of water.
He stood for a moment and let his mind spiral and soar out of control as it traced the path of the hands both forward and backwards as he stared at it.
And then he found it – the rhythm of the clock.
He felt the idea strike him. It was as though someone snapped a towel between his eyes and with the 'snap' he saw the point – the thing the clock maker had intended people to know.
It was ten minutes until nine.
He sighed and let the relief of understanding wash over him.
At the same time he felt the subtle fire of expectation begin to burn within him. He was supposed to meet with Xavier at nine.
A small smile pulled at his mouth. With the relief washing over him and the fire burning within he suddenly wondered what people saw in his face – Because he felt like the clock.
"I'm on fire." He whispered softly. (1)
He turned his attention back down the hall and extended his hand with the fingers spread wide. Slowly, and with great precision, he lowered his fingers one by one in to his hand. When he had made a fist, a door creaked open, just around the corner, at the end of the hall.
He smiled to himself as he started down the hall.
She took two steps without looking and he let her walk right in to him. Then he caught her and kept her from falling.
"Oh!" Storm caught her balance. "Excuse me." She smiled softly. It was not as he had seen her through the window, but it was a start.
He looked her up and down once, as though seeing her for the first time, then he rolled his tongue and purred at her affectionately.
Her smile stayed but turned a little coy. "You're the mutant who followed Logan home, aren't you?" She asked.
That was close enough for him. He shrugged and spread his arms as if to say "Here I am."
She eyed him carefully. She had to. She understood the look in his eye. He was interested in her and she knew it.
"Well," She admitted. "You are cute … for a stray."
He leaned back, very casually, and considered her.
"What are you thinking?" She asked.
"Brown - Sugar." He spoke slowly and smiled wide. (2)
Storm nodded once. "I see." She smiled lightly and in good humor. "Not that you would know." She added. "Or are likely to find out."
He shrugged again – this time with almost a dedicated indifference. And then he smirked as he glanced at the clock.
"Oh, that I understood mister." She turned on him and struck a pose with her fists on her hips. She wasn't in fact sure that she understood him – but she has had enough experience with men to know that when you shoot one down he shouldn't tell you "I've got time yet." Or "The night is still young."
He held his hands up between them in a mock surrender but never lost his smile.
"It's all right." She eyed him. "This time."
She took two steps toward the stairs and felt his eyes on her rear. She had taught enough classes to the testosterone factories that Xavier calls students to trust that feeling. She turned back to face him – but he was gone. He had vanished back down the hall.
Storm looked back in disbelief at the empty hall. Silently she chided herself for encouraging him. But then she found herself flattered by the attention.
It was just a little flirting. She told herself. And after all ... She considered. Who's he going to tell?
Derek bounced playfully down the stairs. He had managed to step away just before Storm had turned to look for him.
"Hey there ..." Beast called to him, then paused. "You need a name." He decided.
"Pleased to meet you. Hope you guess my name!" He sang as he slid the rest of the way down the handrail. (3)
"You're in a good mood." Hank smiled. "I was coming to look for you. I wanted to make sure you were on time for your appointment with Xavier."
Derek nodded several times and grinned wide.
"What side of the bed did you get up on this morning?" Hank asked him.
"Stormy weather …" He sang back and grinned. (4)
"Ahhh," Beast smiled back. "You've met Ms. Ororo Munroe."
"And like a blessing come from heaven, for something like a second, I was healed and my heart was at ease." Derek smirked and cast a glance back up the stairs as he sighed. (5)
"Yes." Hank agreed. "I can see where you might say that. She's quite … impressive."
Derek smirked and cocked his head to one side. He then held his hands between them and indicated an exchange.
"Yes." Hank was glad that Derek had noticed. "Kurt gave me a few pointers."
Derek clasped his hand on to Hanks large shoulder and shook him affectionately. Not many people made the effort to understand him and he was grateful.
Hank could feel the understanding behind the gesture and he was touched. Briefly he thought of Xavier's description of Derek's condition. Somehow 'frustrating' just didn't seem to cover it. Then his mind shot back to his discussion with Kurt last night.
"He talks in poetry." Kurt had said, amazed that it wasn't obvious. "It's like reading Shakespeare. The vords aren't perfect but the images and da feelings are there. Like vhen you would speak gibberish as a child. It wasn't even a real language – but you knew vhat you meant and you could get da point across."
It was the Shakespeare reference that had opened it up for Hank. He had long ago developed his 'ear' for the old English literature. And he was sure that Kurt was right – all it would take is the effort.
"Anytime." Hank whispered softly between them.
Derek took a deep breath and drew himself up to his full height. His eyes were glassy, as though wet with new tears.
"Come on." Hank said. "The Professor's probably waiting by now."
Derek nodded his agreement as he gestured for Hank to lead the way. And then he followed, close behind.
1) I'm on Fire – Bruce Springsteen
2) Brown Sugar – Rolling Stones
3) Sympathy for the Devil – Rolling Stones
4) Stormy Weather – Harold Arlen
5) Light as the Breeze - Leonard Cohen