Disclaimer It's all Marvel's. No money made. Suing will profit no one.
Want? Take ... Have ... just lemme know where it's going :)
"Lance?"
"Yeah?"
"What the hell are you doing?"
Todd had been standing quietly in the doorway of the classroom for some time, unnoticed by its industriously busy sole occupant, and watching Lance's activities. Wood shavings were flying, he was fairly sure that a plane was never meant to be abused like that, and curiosity had finally gotten the better of him. Lance looked up, shrugged, and returning to trying to level off the 2 by 4 as he replied.
"La Cucaracha, what does it look like I'm doing?"
"It looks like you're torturing a small bit of wood. I know you hate Wood Shop, didn't know you hated it that much ..."
Finally Lance stepped back and surveyed his work with a critical eye, holding one thumb out to his project like an artist getting the proportions of a masterpiece.
"It's Christmas soon."
"And you're making a Santa trap?" Todd smirked as he wandered over to the workbench for a closer look at the project. "Maybe it's time we had that talk about him and the Easter Bunny..."
A casual step to the side let him easily avoid the screwdriver thrown carelessly at his head, and unconcerned he peered around Lance's shoulder at the ... thing. He couldn't quite decide if is was meant to be a spice rack, or maybe a magazine holder. Either way, there were far too many nails sticking out, it'd make a wicked good iron maiden for a Barbie.
"Ok, I give, who are you gonna put in therapy by giving them that as a Christmas present? Cause I have to be there with a camera."
Lance glared back over his shoulder, then returned to his careful whittling. "Can't you go annoy someone else for a while?"
"Nope. Pietro and Fred went into town, and I'm bored. Give me five bucks and I'll leave ya alone."
As the ground began to shudder under his feet, he bounded towards the door. "Okay! Geez, I'm gone already." Muttering, he slouched down the corridor; there were some after school clubs on today, he just had to find them, then he could annoy them without fear of the earth opening under him and swallowing him whole. Yeah, definitely better than hanging with Lance. Who needed him and his stupid ... stupid …
"Kitty."
The smile on his face as he finally realised who Lance must have been making the present for couldn't quite decide whether to be amused or sly, and settled on a kind of puckish evil that his little snicker did nothing to help. He rubbed his hands together in his very best imitation of Mr Burns. Definitely had to go find that camera.
Raised voices intruded on his happy moment, it sounded like Jean and Scott were arguing their way towards him, they would probably turn into his corridor any moment. And stop talking. Which would be a shame, as what little he'd heard sounded fascinating. With a quick look around he jumped silently onto the rows of lockers beside him, scooting to the back by the wall and then lying flat. With any luck they wouldn't look up.
"… all I said was he seemed to be settling in well Scott! Why are you making this into a big deal?"
"I'm not making anything into a big deal. I'm just saying everyone seems in such a rush to trust him and I don't think …"
There was silence as Scott trailed away into an exasperated sigh. He really hadn't meant to discuss his worry with Jean at all, but she'd seemed so blasé about accepting a not only self-confessed criminal, but a self-confessed criminal without an ounce of repentance in him at all. It felt like he was the only one with any reservations at all, maybe he was just being paranoid, and he would have been willing to admit that if she hadn't decided to make it into a big argument.
That had been half an hour ago, since then they had stubbornly been sticking to their guns and arguing in circles.
"I don't think you're thinking at all. You're jealous!" Jean stood, one hand on her hip and the other with a finger extended almost poking Scott in the chest as she replied, equally as frustrated as her current opposition.
"Jealous?! What have I got to be jealous about? Don't be ridiculous. I just don't want anyone to get hurt by him, that's all."
She nodded. "I believe that, but I still think you're jealous of all the attention he's getting from Rogue."
"Rogue?" He was starting to feel like a parrot, just repeating back what she had said. But this was getting further and further away from the original point, and so wrong he couldn't quite keep the incredulous amusement out of his tone.
"Sure, 'cause I really miss those cupcakes Rogue used to bake me every day … oh, wait. So, not only am I suffering from paranoid delusions, I'm also jealous about the fact he's getting the attentions of a girl I'm just friends with … and don't recall getting a whole lot of attention from anyway."
Jean scanned Scott's sardonic expression and found nothing in it at all to suggest he was lying. It stopped her in her tracks, mouth open with a reply that was suddenly not really applicable. She shut her mouth before she caught one of the flies buzzing around in it, then spoke in a more level tone.
"You really didn't notice Rogue was trying to get your attention? That, probably, the biggest reason she left the Brotherhood was you?"
Scott shook his head with a bemused frown, still semi-amused and wondering at the turn this had taken. At least they didn't seem to be arguing anymore, that could only be good. He hated arguments; they went directly against the logic he usually worked with and into the realm of random accusation and messy anger. Never good and invariably headache inducing, if this one was over he'd be happy to try and keep it that way.
She gave a small smile and finally dropped her accusing finger with a shake of her head. "You're pretty hopeless, you know that?"
"'Long as I'm pretty..."
Jean began to laugh, then stopped as the smell and the flies finally registered. A quick mental glance around the vicinity revealed a slimy little mind trying to pretend it was wallpaper.
"Toad!"
"Aaaagh!"
Todd gave a yell as he was startled by the sudden sharpness of her voice as he was rumbled, promptly rolling off the lockers but landing on his feet easily in a crouch to look up at the two faces glaring down at him. Seemed to be his day for being glared at. He gave his smarmiest grin and stood, shoulders hunched a little in defence.
"Locker inspection. Everything's fine, I'll just be checking the other corridor."
"You're checking the top of the lockers?"
Scott's tone and expression suggested he hadn't entirely believed his cunning excuse. Time for Plan B.
"Hey! Look! It's Galactus!"
Toad didn't wait for them to turn around, he took off jumping with a gleeful grin deciding to stay and do after school activities more often.
From his office Xavier could hear the front door open and shut, the chatter from Jean announcing the last two students were home for the weekend. For a moment he just listened, not making out the words but the tone was light and happy, excited even. It warmed a little of the chill that had settled over him as the tape recorder under his hand had played. But even the thought of it bought the cold back and the voices from the lobby were soon gone.
Outside the snow had made it a dark night, no stars shone through and the moon was a hidden sliver. Under his fingers the buttons of the machine felt hard, unnatural in comparison to the warm wood of his desk and the clean nature outside.
Thinning his lips, he pressed play once more. It wasn't to ensure he had committed the warehouse conversation to memory - that he had done in an instant. It was to be sure that the expression in the words stayed with him, was there to remind him if ever he forgot how fragile his dream of mutants and humans in co-existence was.
The quality was scratchy, but clear. A man with a resonantly well-spoken voice was the chief speaker, welcoming other parties as they arrived one by one.
~ Ah, Judge, how wonderful you could make it. Yes, out guest should be here shortly herself. I'm sure she will have news for us. Ms Fletcher, so glad you could make it, I realise how busy your schedule with the Senator is right now … ~
It went on, the glad-handing and the list of dignitaries. Not so many in place of power, as in positions of influence with those that were. Refined and educated, important and well travelled. And all they were missing were the pointed white hoods and the chance to burn a DNA strand in someone's garden.
~ Abigail! Do come over here my dear … have you met Dr Grant? No? You must get acquainted, perhaps after you tell us your news? ~
The woman's voice was a quaver to begin with, but warmed to its subject quickly. He tried to listen dispassionately, to understand her fear, to reconcile the fact she was doing what she felt to be the right thing. And somehow still couldn't quite unclench his fist as her words went on.
~ Well, um, hello. I d-don't really have much news. But, um, I am fairly certain that there are Muties in the school. I think I can get the names quite soon, but I – I want to be sure, you understand? ~
The smooth voice came again over the general mutters and murmurs of outraged well-to-do citizens that there might be Mutants in the High School, calming and coaxing. Whoever it was, they were certainly adept at manipulating the ignorant.
~ Of course we understand my dear, we wouldn't dream of moving until quite sure. This isn't a witch-hunt, after all. ~
No, no it wasn't a witch-hunt. Xavier smiled tightly as he stopped the tape. To call it a witch-hunt would be to dignify stupidity.
The grandfather clock chimed a soft nine, striking the eighth tone before he really heard it. For a moment his finger rested on the plastic slickness of the 'delete' button, and he was tempted. But sense won through, at the very least and if all else failed, it was useful as blackmail toward the people on the tape, at least one of whom had built a profitable reputation as a freethinker and liberal.
After locking the tape away in his bedroom safe, complete with its new and improved security, he headed towards the Rec-Room. Music was blaring loudly, he dimly recognised it as the most likely Christmas number one that even Ororo had finally succumbed to absently humming. Almost of their own volition, his fingers began to tap in time on the side of his chair, taking an effort of will to still. He had a certain image to maintain, after all.
As he passed, considering stopping in, he saw they were dancing. Scott and Jean a touch awkwardly, Kurt and Kitty with an exuberance that should probably have carried a government health warning, and Remy and Rogue with a mix of both styles. All were laughing, even Evan for once not complaining about the music choice and just filming them on the camera borrowed from school again.
The talk they must have could wait until tomorrow, he wheeled himself on.
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Notes
I think there's this secret conspiracy to stop me writing chapters. I'm not sure whether to blame the government or aliens or both. It could be karma. Either way, sorry for such a long gap. Again. This story will be finished, I just can't say when chapters will appear.
1) Galactus - Most people will know this guy, but for the ones that don't, he was a massive being with the habit of snacking on planets and had a very depressed guy with the power cosmic scouting them out for him on a silver surfboard ... you know, when it's put like that, it seems a little silly :P