The following are five unconnected drabbles, all responses to dual challenges: senses and cliches.

* * * * *

Smell

When Scott entered the kitchen, he found Logan...and absolute chaos: the contents of the mansion's fridge and freezer scattered across every horizontal surface. Carrots rolled into bags of mozzarella, all perched atop a precarious stack of leftover lasagna. Logan pitched a bag of frozen salmon onto the counter.

"What's going on?" Scott asked.

Logan scowled over his shoulder, waving a bag of peas at him. "It's driving me crazy. I'm gonna be fucking Hamlet soon."

Scott blinked at the apparent non sequitur. "What?"

"Something's rotten in the state of Denmark and I'm damn well gonna find it, 'cause it stinks."

* * * * *

Sight

Kurt felt like an outsider, the only obvious mutant, surrounded by children who could pass and teachers who might have been supermodels. The mansion was filled with beautiful objects and people.

He spent one entire day perched in a tree, thinking. Resolved to leave, he returned to the mansion to pack, finding noise and chaos.

"Kurt!" Ororo cried, her eyes wide.

"What is this?"

"We couldn't find you."

A gang of students surrounded him, looking worried.

"Don't scare us like that with the Professor gone," Rogue said, Jubilee nodding emphatically.

Maybe he *did* belong here. After all, seeing is believing.

* * * * *

Touch

Rogue found her spiritual kin while reading mythology: King Midas. He asked that everything he touched turn to gold, but found that included his food.

Midas touch: A blessing becoming a curse.

Rogue wished she could understand people, wished she knew what they were thinking. Just like King Midas, God granted her wish one afternoon, with the clean smell of David's soap filling her nose and the warmth of his skin millimeters away.

When her lips touched his, everything he knew and everything he was flowed into her.

Like Midas, Rogue prayed. Unlike Midas, this time her prayers went unanswered.

* * * * *

Hearing

"I can't believe you just said that," Kitty said.

Sam shook his head. "I don't know what you're complaining about. You said you couldn't think of a way to describe the sound the jet's engine is making."

Jean tried to say something, but she was too busy laughing and barely managed to pat Sam on the back.

Kitty shook her head. "It's certainly...descriptive. Not precisely something I can use when describing the problem to Scott, though."

Jean doubled over, tears streaming down her face.

Sam frowned. "But it *does* sound louder than two skeletons making love on a tin roof."

* * * * *

Taste

Jubilee nibbled at the cookie's edge and moaned with happiness. The sweet--with just a hint of salty--warm, goodness of a chocolate chip cookie slid down her throat, and she took another bite.

This was absolute heaven, she decided. Maybe she'd have some honey-roasted peanuts next, reversing to salty with just a bit of sweet. She could even alternate between cookie and peanuts.

"Jubes!" Rogue said.

"What?"

"How can you just sit there and eat?" Rogue asked, incredulous. "Those soldiers put you in a cell!"

"Something I learned on the streets: You've gotta take the bitter with the sweet."