Look out, Mr. Summers!
by Katani Petitedra
Rating: G
Genre: Humor
Ships: Teeny itsy bitsy little bit of Scott/Jean
Disclaimer: I do not own the X-men. Even if I did, I'm sure they'd all run away from me on sight.
Summary: In hopes of letting Scott get a little relaxation after grading report cards, Jean and Ororo send him on a weekend ski trip. However, Scott gets a little more than he bargained for . . .
A/N: I wrote this while I was in the process of being snowed in. So here is my very first X-men fic. Rejoice. Or something.
It was a peaceful December day at Charles Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters. Late afternoon sunlight poured through the windows of the mansion, glittering and throwing dancing shadows on the walls.
It was a perfect day by many respects. However, the beauty of it all was lost on a certain young man by the name of Scott Summers.
Scott, known to some as Cyclops, glared down at the pile of English papers littering his desk through his red-tinted glasses. He was sorely tempted to take said glasses off and torch every single one of those accursed tests.
'Absolutely ridiculous,' he muttered sourly as he marked the test papers with a red pen. 'This whole thing is one big sentence. I didn't even know it was possible for a fourteen-year-old to completely forget commas.'
He ran his fingers through his already ruffled hair in frustration. It would be Christmas vacation by the time he finished grading the stupid things. Sighing, he picked up his pen again and continued to mark the tests, hoping that his students would toss them in the fire as soon as they got them back. Such were the thoughts of a thoroughly stressed-out English teacher.
The creak of the classroom door jarred him out of his vengeful thoughts as the only thing that could possibly put him into an even worse mood stepped into the classroom.
Logan grinned wolfishly, seeing that he had interrupted one of pretty- boy's little test-grading sessions. It was known to every resident of the mansion that Logan's favorite past-time was seeing just how far he could push Scott. Most thought of the two as enemies, though Logan actually didn't hate Scott at all. He was just too much fun to torment.
'Hey, Scottie.' he said nonchalantly, leaning against the desk.
Scott glared up at Logan. 'What are you doing in here?! Go away!' His voice rose to an almost comical high pitch.
This amused Logan greatly, but he arranged an innocent-yet-hurt look on his face. 'Me? I just came to see how you were holding up against those treacherous tests.'
Snarling quietly, Scott hunched over the pile of tests, scribbling furiously with the red pen and determined to ignore the obnoxious Canadian.
'So what is it this time?' said Logan cheerfully, peering over Scotts shoulder to look at the test. 'Bobby misspell 'unconscious' again?'
No response from the grouchy English teacher.
'Ah well, there's only so much you can teach these kids,' Logan smirked, clapping Scott on the back heartily and causing the pen to create a large jagged line across the paper. Still no smart comeback.
Leaning closer, Logan peered at the tests. 'You ought to give that kid a bonus point for anatomical correctness,' he said, pointing at a rather inappropriate drawing on one of the tests that Scott had purposely been ignoring.
This was the last straw.
'OUT! GET OUT! NOW!'
Logan then made his escape, running through and slamming the door a split second before a large globe smashed against the hard wood.
Meanwhile, two floors below in the kitchen, Jean Grey and Ororo Munroe heard the crash as well as the loud, frustrated scream that was only ever heard when Scott Summers was grading the end-of-term English tests.
'Poor guy,' commented Ororo, known to some as Storm, as she poured herself a glass of orange juice.
'You try living in the same room as him,' said Jean, sipping tea. 'I think the wall has permanent dents in it from all the times he's banged his head against it during test-grading sessions.'
'He works too much.' said Ororo.
Jean snorted. 'That's the understatement of the millennium. I've tried convincing him to take a break, but he just won't listen.'
There was a moment's silence as the two silently sipped their drinks and pondered.
'You know what he needs?' said Ororo suddenly, putting her cup down on the counter with a loud clink.
'What?' said Jean curiously.
'A vacation!' Ororo concluded.
Jean sighed. 'We'd never be able to drag him away from the mansion. He'd give me the lost puppy look and I'd cave in.'
Ororo grinned wickedly. 'Just a weekend trip- I know a ski place a few miles away where we could ship him off.'
Jean laughed at the blunt statement, starting to get caught up in Storm's enthusiasm.
'And without laser-boy around, Wolvie won't have anybody to torment, so he'll go off and sulk somewhere.' Ororo continued.
'And without either of them under our feet, we can get some peace and quiet!' Jean finished, realization dawning in her eyes.
The two women grinned evilly at each other and triumphantly set off to plot.
A/N: Ta daa . . . the first chapter of Look out, Mr. Summers! has come to a conclusion. Thank for reading this far. Here's your complimentary lollipop.
Now review or I'll come and steal all your pillows and eat them one by one. Gyahaha. *runs off to plot evil doings*
by Katani Petitedra
Rating: G
Genre: Humor
Ships: Teeny itsy bitsy little bit of Scott/Jean
Disclaimer: I do not own the X-men. Even if I did, I'm sure they'd all run away from me on sight.
Summary: In hopes of letting Scott get a little relaxation after grading report cards, Jean and Ororo send him on a weekend ski trip. However, Scott gets a little more than he bargained for . . .
A/N: I wrote this while I was in the process of being snowed in. So here is my very first X-men fic. Rejoice. Or something.
It was a peaceful December day at Charles Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters. Late afternoon sunlight poured through the windows of the mansion, glittering and throwing dancing shadows on the walls.
It was a perfect day by many respects. However, the beauty of it all was lost on a certain young man by the name of Scott Summers.
Scott, known to some as Cyclops, glared down at the pile of English papers littering his desk through his red-tinted glasses. He was sorely tempted to take said glasses off and torch every single one of those accursed tests.
'Absolutely ridiculous,' he muttered sourly as he marked the test papers with a red pen. 'This whole thing is one big sentence. I didn't even know it was possible for a fourteen-year-old to completely forget commas.'
He ran his fingers through his already ruffled hair in frustration. It would be Christmas vacation by the time he finished grading the stupid things. Sighing, he picked up his pen again and continued to mark the tests, hoping that his students would toss them in the fire as soon as they got them back. Such were the thoughts of a thoroughly stressed-out English teacher.
The creak of the classroom door jarred him out of his vengeful thoughts as the only thing that could possibly put him into an even worse mood stepped into the classroom.
Logan grinned wolfishly, seeing that he had interrupted one of pretty- boy's little test-grading sessions. It was known to every resident of the mansion that Logan's favorite past-time was seeing just how far he could push Scott. Most thought of the two as enemies, though Logan actually didn't hate Scott at all. He was just too much fun to torment.
'Hey, Scottie.' he said nonchalantly, leaning against the desk.
Scott glared up at Logan. 'What are you doing in here?! Go away!' His voice rose to an almost comical high pitch.
This amused Logan greatly, but he arranged an innocent-yet-hurt look on his face. 'Me? I just came to see how you were holding up against those treacherous tests.'
Snarling quietly, Scott hunched over the pile of tests, scribbling furiously with the red pen and determined to ignore the obnoxious Canadian.
'So what is it this time?' said Logan cheerfully, peering over Scotts shoulder to look at the test. 'Bobby misspell 'unconscious' again?'
No response from the grouchy English teacher.
'Ah well, there's only so much you can teach these kids,' Logan smirked, clapping Scott on the back heartily and causing the pen to create a large jagged line across the paper. Still no smart comeback.
Leaning closer, Logan peered at the tests. 'You ought to give that kid a bonus point for anatomical correctness,' he said, pointing at a rather inappropriate drawing on one of the tests that Scott had purposely been ignoring.
This was the last straw.
'OUT! GET OUT! NOW!'
Logan then made his escape, running through and slamming the door a split second before a large globe smashed against the hard wood.
Meanwhile, two floors below in the kitchen, Jean Grey and Ororo Munroe heard the crash as well as the loud, frustrated scream that was only ever heard when Scott Summers was grading the end-of-term English tests.
'Poor guy,' commented Ororo, known to some as Storm, as she poured herself a glass of orange juice.
'You try living in the same room as him,' said Jean, sipping tea. 'I think the wall has permanent dents in it from all the times he's banged his head against it during test-grading sessions.'
'He works too much.' said Ororo.
Jean snorted. 'That's the understatement of the millennium. I've tried convincing him to take a break, but he just won't listen.'
There was a moment's silence as the two silently sipped their drinks and pondered.
'You know what he needs?' said Ororo suddenly, putting her cup down on the counter with a loud clink.
'What?' said Jean curiously.
'A vacation!' Ororo concluded.
Jean sighed. 'We'd never be able to drag him away from the mansion. He'd give me the lost puppy look and I'd cave in.'
Ororo grinned wickedly. 'Just a weekend trip- I know a ski place a few miles away where we could ship him off.'
Jean laughed at the blunt statement, starting to get caught up in Storm's enthusiasm.
'And without laser-boy around, Wolvie won't have anybody to torment, so he'll go off and sulk somewhere.' Ororo continued.
'And without either of them under our feet, we can get some peace and quiet!' Jean finished, realization dawning in her eyes.
The two women grinned evilly at each other and triumphantly set off to plot.
A/N: Ta daa . . . the first chapter of Look out, Mr. Summers! has come to a conclusion. Thank for reading this far. Here's your complimentary lollipop.
Now review or I'll come and steal all your pillows and eat them one by one. Gyahaha. *runs off to plot evil doings*