Chapter 3: A Practical Joke
Mickie paused, her own pads silent on the large flat stones that paved the way out to the garage. Behind her, her sensitive ears picked up the sound of scraping footfalls and hissed whispers. She rolled her eyes in chagrin. Her two fellow pranksters were creeping through the bushes beside the path, unable to hide themselves as well as she could. Her fur was black; all anyone would have seen had they looked out was a small black shadow creeping along the path to the detached garage. And, of course, the rustling bushes beside the path.
"Bobby, like, move, already!" She heard Jubilee hiss at the older boy.
"I can't move, Jubilee, I'm stuck!" he snapped back, a little too loudly.
"So get yourself unstuck!" she hissed back.
Mickie rolled her eyes and sat down in the middle of the path, picked up a paw, and washed it. At the rate these two were going, they'd never get out to the garage!
It was only an hour before the other inhabitants of the mansion were due to awaken. Birds were singing in the trees, and the dark of night was slowly turning to the gray half-light of early dawn. Ahead of them, the garage skulked at the end of the path, waiting for them.
"Ow!"
"Will you be quiet already, Bobby, you idiot? Do you want everybody to come out here and figure out what we're doing with all this stuff?" Jubilee hefted the bag that had their prank supplies in it.
Mickie sighed and began to wash her other paw.
"No, I don't, but I can't move! I'm stuck!"
"Aw, geez," and there was a sharp crack, sounding loud in the quiet of the predawn hours. "There. Now you're not stuck anymore. Move, Drake!"
Mickie put her paw down and scampered ahead of the pair of pranksters, checking to make sure no one was about. Then she streaked across the path to the door of the garage and waited by the door.
Bobby reached the door just moments later, followed by Jubilee, lugging the plastic grocery bag that carried the stuff they'd decided they'd use. She let out a small stream of continuous sparks so that Bobby could see what he was doing to pick the locks on the garage door, then they opened the door and slipped inside.
Jubilee opened the bag and took out the heavy-duty flashlight they'd brought. She switched it on, and the three kids followed its beam of light across the garage floor until they reached the section of the building devoted to the bikes belonging to various members of the X-men. Scott's black custom bike sat in the middle, flanked by Remy's and Logan's bikes.
"Hold the light steady, Jubes. And give me that bag." He pulled it open and upended it, and out spilled the contents; a balloon, a bottle of ink, and some long, thin flexible tubing they had painstakingly painted black. Bobby unscrewed the cap on the inkbottle and began pouring black ink into the balloon, inflating it a little as he went.
Mickie watched interestedly. It was something like a water balloon, but with ink in it instead of water. When Bobby had the whole bottle of ink in there he carefully inserted several lengths of tubing into it. He wrapped black electrical tape around the neck of the balloon, preventing the tubing from popping out, then pushed a single piece of tape against the mouth of each tube, keeping the ink inside. Then he tucked the tubing into the cluster of other hoses and wires around the engine. Then he tucked the black ink-filled balloon back under the seat of the bike and taped that in place too.
Jubilee was giggling so hard she could barely hold the flashlight steady. "How long you think it's gonna take him to figure out that all that black stuff is ink, not leaking oil?" she giggled. "I wish I could see his face when he finds out!"
Bobby grinned. "I just hope he wears black jeans when he does this, or Jean's gonna have our hides for giving her extra laundry!" he grinned. "It's gonna take a lot of scrubbing to get that much ink off his jeans!"
"Bobby!" Jubilee said in surprise. "I thought you were going to get washable ink!"
"I did," Bobby said. "But it's still gonna take a lot of washing to get it all out!"
They stepped back and looked at their work critically. Unless you were looking for it, you couldn't see the black balloon of ink, the black tubing, and the black tape. Scott would find it, but not until the balloon had emptied itself of ink from the pressure of him sitting on it.
"I hope he gets on the bike the way he normally does," Bobby said after a moment.
Jubilee rolled her eyes. "Bobby, this is Scott we're talking about! He wouldn't change a minute of anything he normally does, he's like, such a stick in the mud. Come on. It's almost time for everyone to be waking up."
They packed their things back into the bag, Bobby being careful not to spill a single drop of ink, then scrambled back to the house. Once there, Mickie and Jubilee headed left, and Bobby headed for the boys' wing with a farewell wave and a wink. Jubilee scaled the tree easily, and climbed up the branch to her window as Mickie scrambled into her own bathroom window.
She was not a moment too soon. As she leaped lightly from the windowsill to the floor, she heard her bedroom door open. It was Rogue. "Time tah rise an' shine, Mickie!" She opened the door a little wider. "Yah here?"
Mickie came sauntering out of the bathroom, tail waving in the air as though she had just used the litter box. Rogue grinned and vanished into the bathroom, and moments later Mickie heard the unmistakable sound of her litterbox being cleaned. She waited until she heard the sound of fresh litter being poured into the box, then got up as Rogue came out of the bathroom. "Off we go tah breakfast now."
The informal dining room was busy when she and Rogue came in. Plates and food were being passed around, and she jumped up onto one of the chairs as Jean put down a plate of pancakes in front of her. Mickie smiled in cat fashion and dug in.
She was half through the first pancake when an apparently sleepy Jubilee slouched into the room. "Mornin'," she mumbled, doing a very credible imitation of a yawn. Mickie had to stifle the mental laughter before Jean heard it and bent her head over her plate, just as Bobby came in, with the same apparently groggy façade Jubilee was affecting. They ate with lazy indolence, carefully not looking at each other, until Scott finished his meal and got up. "I'm running into the Village to check the mail for Charles," he said to Jean with a quick kiss on the cheek. "Need anything I can pick up while I'm out?"
"Just you," Jean said warmly, and kissed him back. Bobby rolled his eyes good naturedly as they kissed, then slipped out of his chair and headed off up the stairs. Moments later, seemingly casually, Jubilee did too. Mickie finished off the last of her pancakes and sauntered out of the dining room quietly, unnoticed, then once out of everyone's sight she raced for her room.
Bobby and Jubilee were already there, giggling and whispering in her bathroom. Mickie bristled indignantly. "Keep your fur on, Mickie," Bobby said. "This offers us the best view of the garage." He adjusted his binoculars, which he'd swiped from his room on the way to hers, and peered through them at the back of the garage. '"He's just going in. Oh, this is gonna be fun!" Jubilee grabbed the binocs from him to have a look. "He's going in…he's going in…one, two, three, four five, six…" Mickie counted the seconds in her head along with them. He was walking into the garage…he was putting on his helmet…he was throwing his left leg over the bike, standing astride it…he was starting his bike… "eight, nine, ten…"
The bike started up with a roar. Scott was leaning back…he was settling down…he was ready to drive away…and then he felt the wetness on his pant leg. He looked down.
Jubilee was giggling madly, rolling on the floor as they all heard the motorcycle turn off. Several minutes passed as Scott tried to trace the source of the oil leak. There was none, of course. It took only a few more seconds for him to find the ink balloon taped to his seat and the tubing cleverly tucked in among the other cables, wires, and hoses in his engine. And he let out a yell. Seconds later, he marched out of the garage, holding the black balloon which still dribbling a little ink from its tubes. And his pants (he had worn blue jeans, not black) were stained up and down the legs with the heavy, thick black ink. "JEAN!!" he was bellowing, as he broke into a run toward the mansion's back door. Bobby and Jubilee hastily dropped below the windowsill level, laughing hysterically and silently, as Mickie, quivering with laughter too, ran out of the bathroom and arranged herself on the bed, curling around herself and trying to make it look like she was asleep.
* * *
"Scott! Scott, what…" Jean's jaw dropped as she took in his appearance. "My God, Scott, what happened?" She sucked in a breath as she looked at him. "What is that stuff?"
"Ink," Scott ground out through gritted teeth. "And I bet I know who put it there, too. BOBBY!" he bellowed, hoping Bobby was in earshot. "When I get done with you, you'll be scrubbing the hangar deck with a toothbrush!"
Jean, trying very hard not to laugh, grabbed a handful of newspaper from the pile meant for the recyclers and laid several sheets on the floor. "Stand on that while I get you a new pair of pants and some more underclothes." Scott stepped on the paper, fuming, as Jean left the kitchen.
She came back down soon, holding a pair of jeans and a fresh pair of boxers. She closed the kitchen door and held it closed with her telekinesis as Scott stripped off the ink-stained jeans and boxers. Jean took the clothing to the kitchen sink, holding it under water, and sighed when the ink almost immediately started to run. "At least he used washable ink," she said. "What happened?"
Scott inspected the limp balloon and the thin black tubing. "He taped a water balloon full of ink to my bike seat," he fumed. "I started the bike up, and sat down, and that caused the plugs at the end of the tubing to shoot out with the pressure coming from the balloon end. I thought the oil lines had sprung a leak." He saw her face. "Jean, it's not funny!"
Jean tried very hard to keep her lips from twitching. "I didn't say it was, love," she said, soaking a towel at the sink and dabbing at the splashes on his face. They came off easily. "I'll have a talk with Charles while you're gone." She wanted to talk to two…no, three…pranksters first. She was fairly certain the new girl was involved with this, too. "Why don't you take my Miata for now? I'll have Bobby wash your bike. And his co-conspirators too."
"Co-conspirators?" Scott perked up at those words, but Jean was already hustling him out of the kitchen as she slipped the keys to her little blue Miata into his hand. He was left staring at the kitchen door in bemusement. What did Jean know that he didn't?
* * *
Mickie was just dozing off when her bedroom door opened. "Mickie, Jubilee, Bobby, I want to talk to you," Jean said evenly.
Mickie rolled over and gave Jean her best, innocent-who-me look. Jean allowed a smile to tug at her lips momentarily before she pulled her stern schoolteacher face on. "Yes, you. And I know Bobby and Jubilee are hiding in your bathroom. I guess I should be happy that Evan is visiting his mother, or I would be talking to him too." She made a tsking sound as the bathroom door opened and Bobby and Jubilee came out. "Whose idea was this?"
Jubilee and Bobby looked at each other, then Bobby hesitantly raised a hand. Jean nodded. "I thought as much. I want all three of you out front in ten minutes prepared to wash Scott's bike until not a single spot of ink remains on it. And when Scott comes back we'll discuss proper punishments." She snapped her fingers and waved them out of the room. The two teenagers walked out, crestfallen, and Mickie followed.
They didn't say a word to each other until Jean had gone into the house and Bobby was busy soaping down the bike. Then he said gloomily, "We're gonna get stuck with cleaning the Blackbird's hangar with toothbrushes."
Jubilee shook her head. "We had to do that, like, a week ago when we put the glue on Hank's desk chair, remember? We're probably going to have to wash, wax, and polish the whole Blackbird, or something like that." She looked off to the side, where Mickie was looking undeniably smug. "Don't think you're going to be able to miss out, Mickie," she admonished. "They'll change you back just for the punishment, just wait and see."
They were rinsing the bike off when four boys Mickie hadn't seen before came around the side of the mansion. "Hey," the boy in front snickered. "Look, they got in trouble again."
The other three boys laughed. Jubilee's good mood vanished as she put the hose down and picked up the soapy sponge. "Get lost, Derek."
The boys, however, apparently had no intention of doing so. They gathered around Jubilee and Bobby and the bike. "Jubie got in trou-ble! Jubie got in trou-ble!"
"Oh, grow up!" Jubilee made a face at the boy in the lead, who laughed.
One of the boys spotted Mickie, sitting at the edge of the driveway with her tail wrapped around her front paws. He nudged at the other boy standing next to him. "Hey, look at the pussy-cat."
Derek saw Mickie too. "Here pussy, pussy, pussy," he said, snapping his fingers. Mickie rose to her feet, her back arched, her fur bristled outward, and hissed at the boy. She did not like being called a pussy.
"Leave her alone," Jubilee snapped at the boy, "She's another student, like you. She just can't change back to her human form yet."
Derek stared at Jubilee. "You're joking."
"No, I'm not," she insisted. "So leave her alone. Shouldn't you be packing, anyway? Your parents will be here to pick you up." For a moment Derek looked like he might actually go away, but then Mickie moved away from the questing hand of the other boy, and he started to walk toward her. "Let me see if she's really a cat!" Mickie broke into a run. She wasn't about to sit there and let herself get pawed over by some rude punk!
Jubilee and Bobby both screamed at Derek and his friends to leave her alone, but Mickie's fast run soon left them behind. Derek, however, could run almost as fast as she, and she couldn't keep up the sprint long. She took a wide turn and looped back toward the mansion, hoping to get back within sight of the kitchen window, where Jean was supposed to be monitoring their progress with Scott's bike. Once she got in sight of the window she'd be safe. She paused for a second to catch her breath, and that was her undoing.
Derek reached for her in a flying tackle. Unfortunately for her, he misjudged his leap and grabbed her back leg just as she was getting up to run again. Mickie yowled as a searing pain flashed up her hip and spiked into her brain.
The hand let go of her leg, but the damage was done. Mickie curled up in the grass, crying in anguish as the sharp, stabbing pain traveled up her leg. She didn't want the hateful boys to see her cry, so she turned her face downward, into the grass, sobbing with pain. The cool grass felt good to her hot forehead, and her skin slick with sweat from her run.
Jubilee and Bobby came up, hard on Lester's (the slowest boy in Derek's group) heels. The boys were standing in a little circle around something lying on the ground, and as Jubilee and Bobby came panting up, they saw a fully nude young girl lying in the grass, sobbing, her face creased in pain. Because of her state of undress, it was easy to see the horrendous double bulge of a dislocated hip sticking out under the pale skin. Medium-length black hair spread out, fan-like, around her head.
Bobby snapped out of his stunned stupor first, yanking his shirt off over his head and touching the girl's naked shoulder. "Mickie?" he was careful not to look at anything that might embarrass her, though she was in no condition to notice such things. Her entire being was concentrated on the pain in her hip. "Jubilee, run, get Jean--"
"Oh mah god," came a new voice. Rogue pushed her way through the knot of kids. "Derek, Kenny, Justin, Lester, get back inside. Y'all're confined tah your rooms 'til further notice. Bobby, if Ah lift her up, can yah get your shirt over her head?…That's it. Mickie?" she tapped the girl's shoulder gently. "Mickie, honey, can yah walk?"
"Hurts," Mickie whimpered through gritted teeth and eyes screwed shut in anguish.
"Ah'll take that as a no," Rogue said, her voice low and comforting. "Hold on…" she touched the dislocated hip, and Mickie sucked in a breath of anguish. "It's just dislocated, nothin's broken, but Ah want Hank to look at you. He's our doctor," she said to the girl's startled look. She started to lift Mickie. "Jubilee, if yah please, run on 'head and let Hank know he's got a patient…" The other girl nodded, and raced off toward the mansion. "Bobby, take her otha arm, please?" Half-carrying Mickie, they started to make their slow way back to the mansion.