Chapter 13
How To Be A Man

Aidan closed her door, spun in a circle, and flopped onto her bed. She and St. John were going on a date. She was so excited. She wondered where they would go, what they would do... what she would wear! Dear God, she had forgotten how stressful a first date could be. She was eighteen and had only been on one true date in her life. Plus she was only fifteen at the time.

~Flashback~

It was about two days before she stowed away for America. His name was Alan. They went skiing. After some hot cocoa at the lodge, he took her to a black diamond trail, even though she had never skied before in her life. As they were traversing the terrain, an avalanche rained upon them. They were quickly buried, holding each other's hand. Aidan knew she could save them. If she could just get her powers to cooperate... She began to sizzle as the snow melted around her. They were under at least six feet of snow, but it melted in under five minutes due to the extreme heat. As she pulled Alan out of the hole, he looked at her as if she was an insect.

"How did you do that?" he asked in disbelief.

"I- I can make fire," Aidan replied. "I don't know how, but I just do."

Alan yanked his hand out of hers and began walking down the slope.

"Alan! Wait for me!" she yelled.

"No!" he yelled, turning toward her. "You're a mutant. Mutants aren't human... just disgusting freaks of nature."

"But I saved your life! We could have died!"

"You saved YOUR life. You had to save me too or people would have gotten suspicious." He turned from her and continued down the hillside.

~End Flashback~

Life sucked. That was why she had traveled to America. Alan... what a bastard.

* * *

St. John entered Remy's room with a giant grin plastered to his face.

"So, comrade, you have succeeded?" Piotr asked with a small smirk.

"Yeppers," St. John said, grin not moving.

"So, mon ami, where ya gon'a take 'er?"

The grin disappeared. "I, uh, I dunno."

"What'dya mean ya don' know?" Remy asked after taking a puff of his cigarette.

"I 'aven't given it much thought, mate. I mean, I jus' got the date, y'know."

Remy rolled his eyes. This kid was definitely lacking in the romance department. He was also lacking in the charisma, confidence, and sex appeal departments too. At least he had a cool accent. That gave Remy something to work with.

"Why not take 'er to a fancy restaurant? Dress up a bit. Put on some cologne."

"Fancy?" St. John's face turned white. "Sorry, mate, but the fanciest restaurant I've ev'a been to was an Outback Steakhouse. Fancy ain't really me strongpoint."

"We know," Remy and Piotr said in unison.

"But don' worry," Remy reassured, "dat's why Remy 'n da Big Man're here. We'll have ya fancy in no time."

"Can't this wait 'til mornin'?" St. John asked. "I'm kinda tired 'n wanna hit the sack. It's not like we're goin' out tomorrah."

"Fine," Remy said. "But bright 'n early tomorrow, you're gettin' ya first lesson in how ta be a gentleman."

* * *

St. John sat on his bed and pulled out his Zippo. He flicked it on and off as he thought.

Fancy. Why the bleedin' hell did it have to be fancy? Normal people went to the movies on dates, right? No dressing up or fancy cologne required. A pair of jeans, a ribbed shirt, and a spritz of Curve. That was all. No sport coat, no loafers, no excessive hair gel, no Stetson, and NO tie.

He wondered where Remy would make him take her. Some fancy black tie French place, no doubt. Damn dress clothes. Damn fancy...

What about Piotr? What role would he play in this? Remy's personal assistant, probably. More accurately, he would be the one holding St. John down while Remy tried to slick his hair back. Grrrr... fancy...

St. John laid back on the bed and stared at his ceiling. What had he gotten himself into? He wasn't mature enough to be left at home alone for more than five minutes. What gave Remy the idea that he was mature enough for a date? He did like her though. He liked her a lot...

He made a small fire figurine of Aidan. The figurine 'created' its own fire figurines. Soon, St. John was surrounded by five Aidan figurines and a zoo of tiny fire animals. He quit concentrating on all the elementals except the original. Damn, he liked her...

Okay, so maybe he wasn't mature enough to not burn the house down, but he was mature enough to go on a date. Aidan was still afraid to overuse her powers, so he would have a chaperone of sorts. She wouldn't let him mess this up. At least, he hoped she wouldn't.

Man... life sucked.

* * *

Black.

Everything was black.

Black and hot.

She felt like she was falling. Falling into the blackness, into the heat.

She awoke suddenly and the comforter was on fire. Aidan rolled her eyes. This was new. Her eyes changed to the glowing red on black, and the fire blew itself out.

Maybe it was stress. With everything that had happened to her in the last month, she wouldn't have been surprised. Yeah. It had to be stress. Amazingly though, she hadn't had a nightmare in over a week. Ever since she met St. John she gained some freedom with the use of her powers. It took more than lighting a candle to give her a nightmare. It seemed that if she didn't overuse her powers, she was okay. Which meant anything more than setting the couch on fire would probably bring the nightmares back. She suppressed a snicker. Maybe hanging out with Pyro was good for her health.

She tossed the burnt comforter onto the floor and pulled an afghan down from the headboard. Something was weird. She never set fires in her sleep before. She always had to concentrate hard to do something like that. This wasn't a good sign.

She rolled over and fell into a tossing, turning, restless sleep.

* * *

Black.

Everything was black.

"G'mornin', sunshine!"

St. John opened his eyes. "Wha...?"

"It's time for ya man lessons," Remy said, holding a large bucket.

St. John looked at his clock. 5:45. Oh, hell no... "What'n the blue blazes you think you blokes're doin'?" he muttered, stuffing his head under his pillow. "Go away. Come get me when the sun comes up."

Piotr looked at Remy and Remy smiled. Piotr grabbed St. John's blanket and tugged it away as Remy tossed the contents of the bucket-which, this fine morning, happened to be ice water-onto the sleeping Pyro.

St. John was out of bed faster than a speeding bullet. "CRICKEY! What the hell y'doin' ta me, mate?!"

"Makin' sure you're ready ta go," Remy smirked.

St. John stood, dripping wet and very cold, beside his bed. "I bloody hate you," he muttered as he stalked over to his dresser. He pulled out a pair of flannel pants and a hoodie.

"I do not think so, comrade," Piotr said, snatching the garments from St. John's grasp.

"Well, then, what'm I s'posed ta wear, eh?" He angrily crossed his arms over his chest. "A silk robe, perhaps?"

Piotr smirked, and Remy held up a blue silk robe.

St. John's eyes grew wide with sheer terror. "No..." he muttered, backing into the wall, "NO!"

* * *

Jennie and Aidan were in the kitchen making Belgian waffles.

"That's it," Jennie said. "Enough ethnicity. No more Russian, Cajun, Australian, German, or Belgian foods! Tomorrow we're having corn flakes. All day."

Aidan giggled. "Oh, come on. It can't be that bad. We'll just have a smorgasboard from around the world. I'll make grape leaves and baklava for dinner."

Jennie shook her head trying not to laugh. "Greek? I though you said you were from New Zealand."

"Nope. Born in New Jersey. No ethnicity there."

Both girls laughed.

Suddenly, St. John ran into the kitchen wearing a blue silk robe. His hair was wet and his face was pale. He turned toward the living room and yelled, "Manicures are for sheilas!!"

Remy stepped into the kitchen archway. "Naw, mon ami, don' ya watch 'Queer Eye'? Real men get manicures!"

St. John ran for the backdoor with Remy hot on his heels brandishing a bottle of Jennie's clear finish speed dry nail polish.

Piotr stepped into the archway and muttered, "Sometimes, they worry me..."

"Do we wanna know what's going on?" Jennie asked.

"That was a stupid question," Piotr replied.

"I thought so," Jennie said and continued helping Aidan with the waffle batter.

St. John ran past the kitchen window and Remy was a few steps behind yelling, "Come back, 'ere an' be a REAL MAN!"

"You're crazy!!" St. John yelled over his shoulder.

"Shouldn't we make them come in?" Aidan asked, genuinely concerned. "John'll freeze out there. I imagine he's not wearing a whole hell of a lot under that robe."

"Don't worry about what John's not wearing," Jennie said. "It's only the beginning of November; the coldest it could be out there is forty-seven degrees."

Aidan poured the batter into the waffle iron and Piotr sat at his seat at the table.

He took a sip of the already poured orange juice. "Who is cooking dinner tonight?"

"Is that all you think about?" Jennie asked. "If it's not cooking, it's cleaning. Take a chill pill. Aidan's makin' grape leaves."

Aidan elbowed Jennie. "I wasn't bein' serious."

John, robe hanging off of his right shoulder, ran up to the window and pushed it open. "Em, Aidan, could ya gimme a hand? I seemed to 'ave left me lighter in me other girlie robe."

Aidan tossed him a small fireball.

He fell out of the window and cackled as the fireball grew. "Take that, Queer Eye Cajun!! MUWAHAHAHAHA!"

* * *

About five hours later, Remy gave up on the manicure, St. John got his hoodie and flannels back, and Piotr lost interest in the whole ordeal.

Aidan, Jennie, and Piotr sat on the couch.

Piotr looked at Aidan. "So have you two decided where you are going on your date?"

"Not yet," Aidan answered. "The last time I talked to him, he caught Remy on fire. Haven't seen him since."

"You do know that you will probably be going to a fancy restaurant."

"I know. But fancy's not really my thing. And besides, I already told Jennie: candlelight and pyromania don't mix well."

"Do not worry," Piotr said. "You will figure something out."

Jennie pointed to the archway by her room and Remy's room. St. John stood there in a red silk shirt, slightly unbuttoned, black sports coat and slacks, his hair sleek and sophisticated.

Everyone's jaws dropped.

"Wow..." Jennie muttered.

Remy stepped into view next to St. John. "So, what d'y'all t'ink?"

"Wow..." Jennie muttered again.

"Okay, we get it," Aidan said, jealously whacking Jennie's arm. "You're starting to drool."

"Go on, boy," Remy said, giving St. John a gentle shove. "Spin for da crowd."

St. John slowly walked to the middle of the living room, feeling more than overly insecure, and completed a very pathetic attempt at a runway turn.

Remy rolled his eyes. He looked the part, but was still lacking in confidence. Oh, well... Guess that would just have to come naturally.

"He looks good, Remy," Jennie applauded. "How did you do it?"

"Cajun magic, belle, Cajun magic."

* * *

Aidan tossed and turned.

She was walking through the meadow from her nightmares. Only there was no little girl; there was just Aidan. She continued walking until she came upon her old cottage. It was still standing. Smoke wasn't even coming out of the chimney. She opened the front door and stepped into the living room. No one was there. "Mom?" she called. The only answer was the echoing of her voice. She walked into the kitchen. A woman with brown hair stood by the stove. She wore a white sundress and a pink apron. "Mom?" Aidan asked, stepping closer to the woman, "why won't you answer me?" The woman turned around, revealing her badly burned face and arms and Aidan's glowing red on black eyes. Aidan screamed. "You did this to me!" the woman accused, advancing toward Aidan. "No!" Aidan yelled, "it wasn't my fault! I couldn't help it!" Flames shot from the range of the stove behind the woman. "No, Aidan, it WAS your fault. If you and your father hadn't left me, I would still be alive!" The sink, countertop, and refrigerator erupted into flames. "We tried, momma, but they wouldn't let us!" Aidan cried. "Lies!" the woman yelled. "For your lies you will pay!" Aidan screamed as the walls of the now fully engulfed house fell down around her and the heat intensified. Out of the woodwork, tiny fire demons emerged. They ran after Aidan, jumping onto her back, shoulders, and head. She screamed, her eyes changed, and a wave of fire spread around her in all directions, destroying the demons. She was surrounded by a wall of fire that she couldn't control. Her eyes returned to normal as the wall spread farther and farther away from her. The woman laughed evilly; it seemed to come from everywhere at once. "Poor, Aidan," she taunted, "what good is being able to create fire if you can't control it? So much power... Power that destroyed me. It will destroy you too, Aidan." A life-size fire elemental of St. John appeared in front of Aidan. "It will destroy you and the ones you love..." Aidan's eyes glowed furiously. "No, momma... It won't destroy me. YOU will destroy me! You and the constant guilt you place on me! It wasn't my fault! I can't help what I am! But I can move on. Goodbye, momma..." Aidan screamed and a blast of fire erupted from her chest. A blast so powerful it knocked her off her feet. Then there was blackness...

* * *

St. John was on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He felt like such a moron. How could he get confident when Remy made him feel so unconfident. If he could just take Aidan to the movies or mini-golfing he wouldn't be so nervous. He was out of his element in any restaurant where the bathrooms cost more than the house he lived in.

Suddenly, a scream came from Aidan's room. As he was racing to her aid, he got tangled in his bed sheets and fell to the floor.

She screamed again and he scrambled to his feet. He reached her bedroom door at the same time as Jennie, Remy, and Piotr.

"What's goin' on?" Remy asked.

John threw the door open and a blast of heat came out.

"That's not a good sign," Jennie said and turned to Piotr. "You go first."

Piotr's metal exoskeleton appeared and he stepped into the room. It wasn't on fire...yet. It felt warm enough that it could ignite at any second. He saw Aidan on the bed. She was still asleep. He exited the room and looked at St. John. "I believe this is your territory. She is asleep and the room could combust at any moment."

St. John looked into the room and gulped. Ordinarily he would have been tickled to have the room explode into flames, but Aidan was in there. He had to wake her up and get her out. He stepped into the room and immediately began to sweat. He walked over to her bed and touched her. He yelped in pain and yanked his hand back. God, she was hot! But she wasn't sweaty. Weird. He grabbed a throw pillow from the floor and gently hit her shoulder. She tossed and turned and the room grew a few degrees warmer, but she didn't wake up. He beat her repeatedly about the head, neck, and shoulder area, and suddenly, the bed burst into flame. Maybe he shouldn't have done that...

"John!!" Jennie yelled. "What the hell's goin' on in there?!?!"

John didn't answer. He was too busy trying to gain control of the furniture fire. Amazingly, he did get it away from Aidan. Forget the fact that it took out the nightstand and dresser, but at least the bed wasn't on fire anymore. He looked at Aidan; she wasn't even singed. Amazing...

Suddenly, Aidan sat up straight and screamed. Pyro ducked as a stream of fire blasted out of Aidan's chest.

Suddenly, a spray of water extinguished the burning room. Pyro peeked over the side of the bed as Tsunami, Gambit, and Colossus entered the room.

Aidan was dripping wet, but otherwise unharmed. Too bad the same thing couldn't have been said for the room.

"Aidan, what is wrong?" Colossus asked.

Aidan looked at Colossus, then Gambit, the Tsunami, then Pyro and burst into tears.

"Mon Dieu, Gambit can't handle cryin' women. C'mon, chère," he said, grabbing Tsunami's arm, "let's let Pyro handle dis one."

Gambit dragged Tsunami, who in turn dragged Colossus, out of the room.

Pyro sat on the edge of what was left of the bed and Aidan began crying into his chest. He hugged her and rocked her. "There, there, sheila. Tell me what's wrong."

* * *

Remy, Jennie, and Piotr were on the couch sipping hot cocoa with marshmallows when St. John entered the living room.

"So..." Jennie said, sucking the froth off of a jumbo Jet-Puffed marshmallow, "how did it go?"

"Poor sheila's shook up somethin' awful. Had a nightmare, she did."

"A nightmare?" Jennie asked incredulously. "Hell, she 'bout burned the house down!"

"It's a long story..." St. John said, swiping one of Remy's marshmallows.

Jennie opened her mouth to say something, but decided against it and popped another marshmallow in.

"We're goin' out tomorrah night," St. John announced. "I said she needed t'get 'er mind offa what was botherin' 'er."

"Good idea," Jennie said.

"Is she asleep now?" Piotr asked.

"Yeah. She's in my room. Seein' as 'ow 'er room is, well, gone." He sat down next to Jennie. "Did y'make me any cocoa?" he asked hopefully.

"There's a mug for you in the kitchen."

"Righto... Well, I guess this is gonna be the start of a long day, eh?"