Part Two: The Buzz
Warren looked at his card, puzzled. Kurt shook his head in amusement, swished his tail. If the game was this complicated for them when they were all on their first beers, how would they ever manage to make it through an entire deck of cards?
Paige leaned over and whispered something in his ear, obviously cluing him in as to the significance of his card, and Alex pointed an accusatory finger at them, "No cheating, pal."
"You can't cheat at circle of death, Alex," Bobby grumbled.
But before Havok had a chance to retort, Warren slapped his hand down on the table with a crack, and then slapped himself on the forehead.
Laughing at the spectacle, but seeing the card he laid down was the ten of clubs, he followed the winged man's lead, in synch with Alex, seated on the other side of Jean-Paul, and Paige, on the other side of Warren. Belatedly, Bobby did the same.
Jean-Paul just looked at them all. "You can't be serious," he sighed, with enough dryness that Nightcrawler almost felt he was back in England.
"You're the slowest!" Paige shrugged.
Nightcrawler patted his Canadian teammate on the back, "There's a first, speedy! Drink up!"
Still making a face like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, Northstar did as he was told.
Kurt reached into the center of the pile now, seeing that it was his turn to choose, and pulled out the queen of spades.
"Question game!" Paige announced.
He thought for a moment. "Is this going to give me a hangover?"
Apparently on the ball after the previous hand's failure, Jean-Paul let fly, "Doesn't the fuzzy blue gene protect you from hangovers?"
"Does being a sarcastic Canadian protect you from hangovers?" Alex raised his eyebrows at his teammate.
"Doesn't Canada have a government program to provide for the victims of hangovers?" Bobby mused.
"I had a hangover… oh… shit," Paige started laughing.
"Well that didn't last long," Warren chuckled, as Paige took her drink.
"Thank god," Northstar muttered.
Kurt figured Paige had lost that round because she had started a statement, not a question. Not a hard game. In fact, he hadn't had nearly enough to drink since it had begun. Shrugging, he lifted his bottle to his lips and took a nice sized gulp, just for good measure. He'd need a new one soon, but that's what teleporting was for, after all.
Bobby watched JP reach for a card, and saw him smile.
This of course, immediately concerned him. After the Canadian jokes, he could only imagine what kind of pain the man would want to inflict on them all, and what kind of card would give him the power to do so.
Still, he was having more fun than he let on. It kinda felt like the old days, the gang hanging out, talking trash, having a few beers. Sure, this was a little more forced, this crew wasn't nearly as close…
He tried not to think about it.
"Ace of spades," Northstar announced, holding up his bottle already. "I believe that's a waterfall."
"Go easy on us, tiger," Alex chuckled, readying his own bottle.
"Wait!" Kurt exclaimed, "I'm nearly out. Let me go get some more." And he bamfed out without waiting for an answer.
Warren waved his hand rather prissily over the empty seat Kurt had occupied, wrinkling his nose at the sulfur smell, and Bobby had to laugh. At least Warren was still here, after all. One of the first. Like him. And these guys weren't so bad really…
Kurt was back in no time, and everyone had a standby beer opened and ready before Jean-Paul lifted his Heineken to his lips and started to drink. Everyone did it simultaneously, of course. No one could stop until he did, and then Alex could, whenever he wanted, which would free Bobby to, and so on around the table.
Eventually, Bobby was ready to stop drinking. He looked over at Northstar, saw his Adam's apple moving up and down steadily, his beer draining rather quickly, and had a moment of appreciation. He never woulda figured the guy for a beer-drinker. Seemed like more of a cocktails kind of man. Manhattans and Martinis and what have you.
A sort of strangled noise was starting to come from Paige, and Alex was flipping his hand around in a "come on, come on," sort of gesture. Northstar, oblivious, and seemingly determined to drain his entire bottle, kept drinking.
Good god, how did he do it? Bobby started swallowing only every so often. Kurt had polished his beer off and was now on the second, and he was getting close…
Paige stood up, inched her way around Kurt, and smacked Jean-Paul on the arm hard.
He took one last gulp, lowered his bottle finally, one drink left in it, and glared at her.
Alex put his down immediately, taking a heavy breath and looking like he was about to explode, and Bobby wasted no time in putting his down so Paige wouldn't start beating on him too.
Alright, so the Canuck could drink. Didn't mean he could stay in for the long run.
This was war, of course.
The mutant called Husk was well pleased with herself. Each of these mopey motherfuckers had smiled at least once since he'd sat down at the table. Christ, they all had baggage. Why couldn't these boys just get over themselves?
And of course, after that horrible waterfall, they'd probably now have to turn the whole thing into a cock swinging contest. Count on Northstar to bet he one to start it.
But at least they were having fun.
Of course, as she thought this to herself, she saw Alex draw a six, and look directly at her. "Oh no… not after that…," she pleaded.
He cocked his head, displacing a few chunks of blonde hair charmingly. "Alright. Take three, Paige. Since it's your game. Jean-Paul, you take the other three."
"Me?" He pretended to be shocked.
Alex pointed to the beer, "After that, I ought to give them all to you. Drink, you fucker."
Surprisingly, Northstar only laughed, and did as he was told, and Paige drank in unison with him. They started on their new beers at the same time, despite the fact that she had started drinking before him.
Grading those papers must really be getting to him, she thought.
Bobby reached out now, and grabbed a card quickly. "A king. What's that mean?"
Ah, just the card she'd been waiting for! "Means you have to get naked."
He raised an eyebrow, "No way."
"C'mon Drake. Just pick something and take it off," she encouraged him, now even more glad she'd suggested this game, and kept that rule in. It was mostly for her benefit, of course, considering that they were all men. But hell, if they didn't like it, they shouldn't have agreed. "And no socks or jewelry. Like pants or shirt."
He sighed, stood up, and undid his pants, then dropped them to the floor and stepped out of them, showing all of them his Joe Boxers. Complete with smiley face print. "Happy?"
Nice legs, she thought, grinning. Now if only we could work it out so that he got the next king… "Yes," was all she said.
He sat back down and tried to look pouty, but winked at her when everyone else had looked away, laughing at his show. And his smiley faces.
She winked back and announced, "My turn!" Then pulled a card from the mass. "Oooh, a nine! I get to make a rule!"
There was a sort of collective groan from the men, and she shook her head at them. "Oh you babies. Ok, here it is. The next person who has to take something off, has to take off whatever I tell them."
Warren raised his eyebrows at her, "oh yeah?"
She smiled back, sweetly "That's right."
One way or another, she'd get him out of those clothes.
Jean-Paul watched them with growing amusement, Paige and Warren. It had been obvious for awhile that she was well into him, but Warren's recent behavior patterns were reading that he felt much the same. Of course, it always happened like that. Teammates. You work together all the time, someone's bound to have a crush…
He purposely watched Warren now as he drew a card. Mainly to avoid looking over at Bobby. He'd caught him winking at Paige after he'd removed his jeans, and quickly looked away then too. Normally, he would've had no problem giving him "the look." The one he knew could melt a man at 100 yards. But this one was… different. This one was… not going to be interested.
He hoped for another waterfall. He was definitely going to need to drink more.
"A five," Archangel announced. "And they go to… Paige!"
Her eyes grew wide, "You trying to kill me?"
He shrugged, "your game."
She shot a mock-evil look all around, "it's a conspiracy."
He noticed a touch of her carefully suppressed Kentucky accent coming back, and wondered if that happened when she drank. He'd never heard it before, really. But she knocked back the five drinks all the same, and Kurt drew a card of his own.
"Seven. That's five to the man with the wings, for the sake of avenging the lady—" He intoned in his thick German accent.
"And they say chivalry is dead!" Paige beamed.
"And two to Herr Drake," he finished, nodding to her.
Bobby sat up straighter, "Why me?"
Kurt shrugged, and Northstar was amazed at how playful such a demonic man could actually look. "I imagined you'd need a little more, to be comfortable sitting in your undergarments in the living room."
Bobby raised his glass, as Warren drank up, "Cheers, mate."
Nightcrawler grinned back at him.
And now it was his turn. Quickly, he picked up the nearest card and laid it on the table. "Jack. That's… pick a topic right?"
Paige nodded at him.
He thought for a moment. Something utterly obscure… "Spanish Painters. Picasso."
Alex made a horrible face at him, but blurted out, "Velasquez."
Jean-Paul nodded, impressed.
Bobby squirmed a moment, but just when he opened his mouth to call him out, he finally exclaimed, "Diego Rivera!"
Very impressive.
Paige looked panicked now, "shit, you took mine! Uhhh… Goya!"
He nodded again. They were doing better than he'd thought possible.
"El Greco," Warren shrugged, not even sweating. The man probably owned three of them himself, after all.
"Wait, wait, wait!" Bobby interrupted, before Kurt could even open his mouth. "El Greco? The Greek? No way, you can't use him!"
Warren puffed out his chest a bit, making his presence all the more impressive. "Don't tell me about art, kid. He painted in the Spanish style, in Spain."
Bobby was unimpressed, "So, Picasso painted in France, big fucking deal."
"He's right, Bobby," Kurt spoke up, "El Greco is a Spanish painter."
The temperature in the room started to drop a little, as Bobby now looked to Jean-Paul for help.
Though he was tempted, he could not lie. He held up his hands, "Sorry mon ami, they're right."
"Oh fuck…" Iceman gave up, shaking his head, and took a drink.
Jean-Paul pretended not to watch him some more.
Warren was surprised. This was actually quite fun.
Bobby was lightening up, despite his lack of art historical knowledge, Jean-Paul was taking a break from the Quebecois snot-nose act (well, enough to relax and at least talk to them, anyhow,) Paige was looking stunning, running the game with that beautiful, youthful energy he loved in her so well, Alex had cracked more than a few smiles over the course of the game thus far, and Kurt seemed happy just to have some of them together for something other than a briefing or mission.
It wasn't like the old days, of course. But it wasn't all bad, really.
He watched with something like childish anticipation, though he knew it wouldn't show on his rock hard face, as Alex drew a card. "An eight…" He seemed to have forgotten what that meant.
"Never have I ever," Paige prompted.
"Oh right," he nodded, looking up in the air and cradling his second beer. "Never have I ever… checked out my own ass in the mirror when I put on my spandex."
Jean-Paul's eyebrows both shot up this time. "So we drink if we have… or if we have not?"
"If you have," she nodded to him, grinning.
He held her gaze fearlessly as he took a long drink.
Warren found himself laughing at the Canadian's vanity, and had to admit that he'd done it himself. Aw what the hell, they were among friends. He took a drink himself, and watched as everyone else at the table did, except for Nightcrawler and Husk.
"Ok Kurt, you I can almost believe don't check yourself out. But Paige? Come on… hell, I know I check you out all the time," Bobby laughed, sounding much more like his old self than he had in ages.
It actually made Warren smile to hear it, really.
"You boys are so vain!" She laughed, "I really don't check myself out in the mirror."
"Why can you believe it of me?!" Kurt demanded. "You think just because a man has a tail, he doesn't look good in spandex?"
"I think you look great in spandex," Warren heard himself say.
Good god. Where did that come from?
He took another drink, just for good measure.
Alex was laughing now, rather astounded at Archangel's little joke. How long had they been drinking before he'd come downstairs?
Of course, he'd purposely asked a loaded question, just to see who would admit to something he knew all superheroes had to do. He figured Iceman, Northstar, and Nightcrawler would be honest about it, mainly because Iceman would get a kick out of it, and Northstar was obviously a vain son of a bitch. But Warren's reaction had been alright.
He suddenly had a flash of his brother walking into the room, that glare that you knew was just evil, even behind the ruby red sunglasses. He could hear him now. Just what do you think you're doing? Playing drinking games like a bunch of kids! How irresponsible can you possibly get. Alex, I thought you'd at least know better than this! And you Warren, Kurt, you're senior team members! Leaders!
Silently, he told the Scott in his head to shut the fuck up and let them play.
Bobby pulled a card out now, a four, and pointed it directly at Northstar. "You, mon ami," he put on a French accent just for that little phrase, "can take four! For picking a stupid fucking topic like Spanish Painters."
Jean-Paul almost seemed pleased with the arrangement as he bowed his dark head and took his four drinks.
He was being a much better sport about this than Alex had expected. Pretentious till the end… but he did seem to have a sense of humor piled under the massive chip on his shoulder. And hell, even Bobby was grinning now. Maybe all they really needed was a break. From the drama.
Paige was grinning ear to ear as she reached for her card.
Hell, it was nice to see them all smile.
"Oooh, another nine!" She announced gleefully.
Well shit.