Sorry about the lack of updates.

Review Responses:

T.-- S'a funny thing. It has come to be about everyone, hasn't it?

Jean1--Glad to see someone else appreciates Davey, Heather, and Neal. I'm having a fun time writing them, especially Slipstream.

puppiescute-- As you will see this chapter, the reference of marriage between our two fave southerners just got more complicated. ^.~

Fleurdelys--I'm sorry if you're not very familiar with X-treme. I, myself, lost a lot of interest after Rogue and Remy temporarily left the team. As for Franklin, he is a child and he's not perfect. After all, without imperfection, how could we have drama?

Lucky439-- I see that you picked up on the friendship I was arranging between Rogue and Davis. I figured that they'd care a little bit about each other after helping one another defeat an army of invaders in past issues of X-treme. I'll probably play with it some more later.

xXrogue-demonXx--Wow...Two hours?! I feel so loved!

Pookie Sanchez--Robo-Ben's not the only thing annoying Wolverine...

Elle_Lugosi--Well, it took forever and a day, but here it is!

Wishful Thinking-- Angsty? Moi? Surely I'm not as drastic as all that! ^.~

Sabby13--I don't know about soon, but I did update. Gotta get some credit for that, non?

Disclaimer: A lot of these guys belong to Chris Claremont. Considering that fact, I can deal with the concept that I don't own them. Why? Because Claremont rocks!

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CHAPTER 11: ORIGINAL INTENTIONS

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They had swam together, they had danced together, they had fought together, and now they were complaining together. Ororo tended to stick to the term 'Slavedriver', while Davis most often used 'Yank Drill Sargent'. Put together, they were giving the Wolverine a headache.

The earlier morning hours had given way to therapy sessions in the upper gym. Davis was doing chin-ups to strengthen his arms while Ororo carefully stretched her leg muscles. Storm was nearly ready to end the accursed sessions, but Slipstream's training had only begun.

"...don't get it...unnngg....this was easy a month ago..."

"Many simple things become difficult after an injury, Davis."

He stared at her.

"What is it?"

"Yeh said my name. I think that's the first time yeh've called me by my name since I was dragged here."

Ororo's cheeks took on a slightly crimson color.

"I'm afraid I really don't know how to answer to that."

The surfer blushed a little in turn.

"Well,...you could keep callin' me by that for one."

"Then I suppose I will...Davis." She smiled and he returned with a grin.

Logan looked over his shoulder. Their conversation had caused both to lag behind in their excersizes. "Alright ya two, get back ta work!"

They both shared a grimance.

"Slavedriver."

"Yank Drill Sargent."

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"Atten-shun!" Remy watched Franklin as he imitated the brave commandos on the TV set. The Cajun smirked to himself. He had gotten the child into the habit of watching movies as opposed to actuall television. It prevented him from accessing anti-mutant propaganda, and it did wonders for his attention span.

Ding Dong.

Remy walked over to answer the door, looking over his shoulder. Franklin had been acting the part of a perfect angel all morning; not once letting on to the Cajun's secret hopes of a marriage proposal. The boy didn't understand his hesitations, but he revelled in the privialege of being let in on a 'grown-up secret'. Chil'en . Remy decided not to question good fortune reguarding their peculiar behavior.

"Special Delivery t' Heather Cammeron from de Xavier Institute. Will y' sign dis form please?"

Remy snapped to attention. The Xavier Institute? What would Lifeguard recieve from the old mansion? As if on cue, Heather and Neal trotted in to see the goings on. Heather's eyes widened at the package.

"So soon? I just ordered the thing yesterday."

The young delivery man's eyes widened in surprise. He had delivered many things to many people in his short job at the serice, but never to a gold-plated half-alien.

"Y'gon' sign f' it, chere, or do y' want me t' do it?"

"I'll take it, Remy."

She scrawled her name on the form, frowning a bit as she steadied the pen in her large clawed hands. She handed the paper back to the delivery boy as she took the package from him, shutting the door in his face.

Neal raised his eyebrows in curiosity. "What could you want from Professor Xavier? You've never even met him."

She extended a claw to slice the duct tape from the packaging. "No, but I've met that big blue fella, Beast. I learned from him an' Nightcrawler about these little things."

She picked up a small watch with a red button. Ignoring the men's curiosity, she strapped the item to her wrist. All at once, the image of her facial markings and gold-metallic skin faded away to reveal a smiling blond surfer girl. One that looked as human as anyone walking down the street.

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Bishop was looking out at the street, still trying to get his head around it. Why, when she finally got her permission for vacation, did Teri decide to spend her two weeks leave with him in the USA?

"Got nothin' better ta do, mate." had been her reply as she told him over the phone to expect her.

Bishop nervously straighted his clothing. Today he would tell her. Today she would know that her old mafia ring-busting partner was a mutant. Now he just had to get up his nerve.

She met him at the Cafe du Monde at 12:30 for lunch. When she arrived, she looked...well, Teri. Her punk-blue died hair, heavy boots, and denim jacket all helped to set Lucas at ease.

She strutted up, giving him a knowing smirk, as though it had annoyed police chiefs for centuries. He pulled out a chair for her, and the smirk turned to a smile. Then, they sat down to eat...with Bishop hoping all the while that none of his friends would see him.

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Scott Summers couldn't believe what he was seeing. His teammate, fellow teacher, and wife was packing her bags as though she had the full intention of leaving.

"Jean?"

She looked up in surprize, as a deer caught in headlights. Regaining her composure, she spoke.

"Scott, I'm going to see about Franklin Richards in New Orleans. Could you please hold the fort while I'm gone?"

"For how long?"

She avoided his visor-covered gaze.

"I really don't know."

"Jean, wait." He touched her arm.

Jean wanted to scream.Now he was concerned? What about months ago, when she had been having an identity crisis? What about a little over one month ago, when she had been burdened with the drastic increase of the student body? What about a few weeks ago, when she had first started crying into her pillow at night after realizing that she'd wake up, and his side hadn't even been slept in. She shook off his hand and slammed the last suitcase shut.

"Wait? Why should I wait? I've done nothing but wait since you first came back to us! I thought this whole thing was just a phase you'd been going through because of Apocalypse; but apparently, I was wrong. Why don't you go back to Emma? I'm sure she'll wait as long as you want."

His brow furrowed, as his voice raised. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Jean sighed. "It means I'm tired and want a vacation."

With that, she telekinetically lifted her luggage and departed out the door.

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"Well? Whatta you think?"

"Heather....Why?"

Remy looked nervously at the young couple. Neal was clearly upset about Heather's decision to wear an image inducer, while the female half-shiar didn't understand the problem. Heather frowned.

"B'cause I'm sick of having to go outside afraid to even show my face--much less the rest of me! This little dingus will solve my problem. Re-charge it during the night, and presto! Normal-looking Heather Cammeron's back in action!"

"But don't you see? You shouldn't need to hide what you are. You looked fine the way you were!"

Lifeguard's now-normal features took on the apperance of a girl about to cry. "I thought you'd be happy for me...guess not." Remy figited. Awkward silences were bad enough on their own, but the Cajun seemed to the caught in the middle of a long-running lover's quarrel. He wanted to be tactfull and considerate--but even more--he wanted to get out.

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"He couldn't get out?"

Teri sniffed. She hadn't begun crying yet, but was thouroughly upset.

"Right. He (sniff) 'ad been scratchin' at the window. 'Parrently, my roomate had f'gotten to leave some of the window open, an' the sun got really, really bad 'till he just (sniff) suffocated."

Bishop gently laid a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry."

They had finished dinner with a small portion of wine before they had begun talking in earnest. Lucas had been preparing to drop the news of his mutation before it finally dawned on him that Teri was distracted and upset. Then he learned about Crackers. The Australian sun was blazing this time of year and the poor pup had been left in the air-tight car for too long. He then decided that this was not the time to tell her about his mutant life.

"Sorry to burden yeh with this, mate. It...it's jus' that I'd really started to like that lil' furball despite all the trouble he'd caused me."

He looked at her with sad eyes as he thought of Franklin.

"I know what you mean, Teri." he mumbled. "I know what you mean."

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"Ah don't have a clue as ta what you mean!"

"It's a rhyme Mommy taught me. A lady needs something blue to wear when she...oops."

"Gets married, sugah?"

Franklin's cheeks began to turn red. He thought he'd done a very good job of keeping Remy's secret. But apparently, when he had noticed the lack of blue clothing in Rogue's closet, he couldn't keep his mouth shut.

"It's alright, hun. Ah already guessed as much."

"Ya...ya did?"

"Yup, an' Ah think it's right sweet o' ya, but please don't rush us grown-ups."

Rogue nearly laughed at Franklin's adorable wrinkled brow. She thought it was a precious thing that the boy wanted to play match-maker with Remy and her. But, she reminded herself, now really wasn't the time. They actually had quite a bit to worry about concerning the boy. Mainly, how to give him a proper education when their first instict was to spoil him rotten. She had tried to bring the topic up with Remy when he had taken her out to dinner, but they had been interrupted by Remy's distractions and Franklin's sudden arrival. There had to be something better for the boy to do than watch movies and trying to hitch Remy and her. If only she could find the right program.

It hadn't taken Rogue too long to realize that there was no way Franklin could go to a public school. The reaction of the young children at the Bishop/Playground incident was enough to make that clear. And the only private school for children of Franklin's caliber was the Xavier Institute all the way up in New York. Since that too was out of the question, Rogue had to find a way to home-school the boy. She had found a possible solution in the New Orleans newspaper: a used book sale.

"Franklin, sugah, why don't ya'll stop bumblin' through mah closet an' help me pick out some text books at this sale Ah'm goin' to?"

"Text books?"

"Gotta start schoolin' ya sometime, kid. Ah'd rather that ya learn the skills it takes to get a job rather that the ones required to save the world. Less chance o' damage."

"Okay."

Franklin smiled. He remembered the fun times he'd had while learning things in his father's study. Maybe it could be like that with Rogue. He took her hand as she led him out the door, wondering how she'd known about Remy's hopes of proposing...

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The emotionless gaze of the the hidden spy cammera watched woman and child as they departed from the Garden District house. A man sat at the control consul taking in the scene. The lips half-hidden behind a mask of metal began to twist upwards. His name was Victor Von Doom, and he had the smile of a madman. _________________________________

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Author's Notes: Does that classify as a cliff-hanger? My muse seems to think so. Again, I appologize for the lack of updates, I've been having these bouts of writers' block lately coupled with limited access to my computer. However, reviews do help make 'em come faster. So start pressing that button! Till next time! ^-^ Adieu!