Chapter 6: Special Shots

            "You know, if you don't feel up to playing against me yet, I'd understand." Scott offered somewhat snootily, brandishing his high-end racquet like a beloved weapon.

            "Heck no, bub!  I'm liking this game, let's play!" Wolverine smiled toothily, still completely unaware of Hank's serious bruises.

            Cyclops shrugged stiffly.  "Whatever.  Just remember I've been playing a lot longer than you so don't be a bad sport."

            Wolverine seemed unimpressed, and so the game began with no more dialog.  Court three had gathered a small crowd, intrigued by how the already tumultuous relationship between the two players might affect the game.

            "Who do you think is gonna win?" Rogue eyed Wolverine and Cyclops shiftily.

            "Oh, I wouldn't really care either way." Jean concluded her statement by whistling guiltily.

            "You think it's gonna be Logan, right?" Rogue persisted.  "He's so good at everything else, I wouldn't be surprised."

            Jean turned to Xavier for support, but he merely shrugged.  This could very well be as close of a match as the one still continually tying in court two.

            "Well," Jean said defensively.  "Scott has had professional lessons for a little while."

            "You'd think by the way he was dressed he was the world pro!" Rogue whistled derogatorily.  "He looks uptight.  Kind of stuffy."

            "Just because he has name brand gear?" The telekinetic scolded.  "What makes Logan's blue jeans and plaid shirt superior?"

            "I was just saying." Rogue gave a suspicious glance around all three courts.  "Er… Jean?  Who do you think is the best player of everybody here?"

            "I don't know, we'll have to see who wins, won't we?"

            "Sure, but if you had to guess, or place a bet on one of them, who would it be?"

            Jean considered.  "Well… Scott or Ororo has had the most real lessons."

            "But I mean, including powers?"

            "I don't know, Rogue." Jean turned away from her pesky companion to watch the opening serve by Cyclops.

            Rogue turned her attention to the well-formed serve as well, suddenly ripping a notepad out of one glove and a pencil from the other.  She began scribbling notes and scores, maintaining an eye on the ongoing action.

            "Are you writing a report?" Professor X grimaced as Wolverine's feisty shot scored a return ace against Cyclops' forehead.

            "Who, me?" Rogue scrutinized Scott's reaction to the point.  "Nah.  Just interested.  Oh, bad sport."

            She was referring to Cyclops' outrage at being hit.  "Hold on, mister, you're not playing by the rules!"  He stalked around, instructing Wolverine on proper game play before continuing the match with the next serve.

            "You're welcome to play, too if you're so interested." Xavier suggested.  "Hank and Ororo are giving lessons on the first court."

            "Oh, are they really good?" Rogue asked, wide-eyed.  "Who do you think is the best, Professor?"

            "I couldn't say."

            "Oh… oh sure." Rogue seemed to complete something in her writing.  She jogged to court two and watched that game for a while.

            Northstar and Nightcrawler had reached a tiebreaker… again.  It was impossible to tell who might come out on top.

            "Excuse me?" Rogue shook the fence roughly to get their attention after Jean-Paul gained a faster than light point.

            "We're busy!" Northstar turned to look at her and then away so fast Rogue thought there was no way he could have told who was there.

            "But I have a question!" She shook the fence some more.

            "Oh?" Kurt looked at her for a realistic amount of time.  "They're doing lessons over there, and almost anybody is invited."

            Rogue caught the potential gossip right away.  "Who's not invited?" She leaned against the fence.  "Did Bobby freeze the swimming pool to go ice skating again?  Is he grounded from sports?"

            Nightcrawler shook his head.  "Nothing like that." He was preparing to tell his tragic story about being discriminated against by fellow mutants when Northstar stopped waiting and served the ball without warning.

            It screamed like a comet, bounced into the service square, and then pounded into the side of Nightcrawler's neck loudly.  The distracted mutant hit the ground with an even louder noise.

            "Are you okay!?" Rogue addressed the fallen player, shaking the fence again.

            Jean-Paul tapped his foot.  "I thought you said you were fast!  Get up already!  You do this all the time!"

            Rogue looked around nervously.  "Uh… Nightcrawler?"

            "Okay, this is ridiculous." Northstar said.  "Hey girl, would you call this 'nap' a forfeit so I can win and get on with my life?"

            "But wait!" Rogue pointed.  "He looks like he's getting up."  She frowned.  "No wait… I'm wrong.  Must just be convulsing or something, looks like you hit a nerve…"

            "Oh well, guess if he's dying that means I win." Jean-Paul looked like he was leaving.

            "No wait!  What about my important question?"

            "What is it?  I don't have all day."

            "Well," Rogue held out her hand to keep her interview from running away.  "Who do you think is better between you two?"

            "Well, who do you think!?" Northstar said as though it were the most apparent, obvious thing in the world.  And then, he was gone.

            Rogue tried to follow his path with her eyes, checking the other courts, but he seemed to have given up on tennis.  She finally spied him sitting on the school wall, chucking tennis balls aimlessly into oncoming traffic.

            She noticed a car cart wheeling from contact with one of his speed-charged, fastballs.  It landed on its hood while various pieces of steel detached unrealistically to blow up into smaller infernos.

            "Hm.  He does have some points." Rogue addressed the unconscious Nightcrawler apologetically.  "I bet you couldn't do that." She shrugged and headed over to court one to check out their mad skillz.

            All four players were astounded by the carnage in the front drive.  Kitty feinted fainting (hah hah), but Colossus missed.  He was too absorbed in the spectacle.  "You don't get stuff like that back in the old country."

            Rogue decided to fill them in.  "Oh that.  Nightcrawler got killed so Northstar was bored."

            "Oh." Everybody except Colossus looked satisfied with her explanation and turned back to their activities.

            "Uh… shouldn't we be concerned about all this?" Peter looked astonished at his teammates.

            "Oh, he does this.  He's much easier to get along with once he gets it out of his system." Kitty said referring to Jean-Paul.  "Just let him at it."

            "Playing with cars is good for boys." Ororo added.

            Colossus blanched.  "But those are real cars."

            "All the better!  He is learning about science!" Beast covered his ears good-naturedly as a disturbing explosion rocked the grounds.  "See?  He just learned something very important about gasoline.  Flammable, you see?"

            Colossus nodded, disbelievingly.  Maybe it was time for him to find a new super group… these guys were a little off.  Uncanny.

            Storm suddenly seemed to realize she should be doing something.  "I hate seeing people get hurt.  I'll go catch the people." She flew off casually.

            "So anyway," Rogue said.  "I was wondering, how y'all are doing?"

            Beast smiled.  "We're learning a lot about tennis today."

            "Oh!" Rogue looked like a fox broken into the hen house.  "Who's the best student?"

            "What do you mean?" Colossus asked, looking slightly relieved that Storm was managing the terror on the streets.

            "Oh nothing." She twirled her hair innocently.