"KILL YOU."
- Jubilation Lee
Turn, Smile, Shift, Repeat
A/N: Hullo. I have SO TOTALLY CONQUERED animeluvr1's PROMPT. No, more than that! I whipped it with a wet towel and sent it crying home to its mama like a little girl! Hahah! Yeesssss. Er, anyways. If you're interested at all, go ahead and take a look under my profile! It is swell and humorific, I believe, and is a refreshing change from my usual bundles of angst. (Hell, this thing would be an angst fic too, if it wasn't for my overbearing urge to make any dramatic sad scene become stupid and silly. This actually goes for all of my dramas, so technically, I don't write ANY angst.) Well, I don't know about you, but I didn't like my last chapter. It was Growing Pains rewritten, and I've come to realize that I hate rewriting episodes. Boring and predictable. However, I LOVE Power Surge. So many wonderful little things in that episode that makes me happy (some of which but is not included to Scott falling on his bum about 5 consecutive times. Aww. Nerd-Scott is so endearing!).
08-11-04: New omake up. [Refer to Ch. 3]
Reviewer Responses
Chaotic Boredom – MANGOS. Mangos, mangos, MANGOS.
cxigner – Pietro? But he's…er, well… you know. There WILL be Ray/Tabitha-ness! Patience, grasshopper. Thanks for continuously reviewing!
Risty – Sometimes, Roberto picks lint out of his bellybutton. But he doesn't tell anyone, because that's unstud-like. Not that that has anything to do with…anything. Thanks so much for all the kind and helpful words, yo.
The Uncanny R-Man – Aww, no. Though that does sound fun. A potty-mouthed Scots chick Rahne, I mean. But that's not quite the personality you see on Evo, and Evo's the only thing I'm going by, seeing as I've never owned a single comic in my life and wouldn't know the first thing about comic-Rahne. Thanks for reviewing again – tally ho, pip pip, wot wot, and all that.
Joey Tribbiani Fan – I concur. Much Evan squealing commence! I know it's tough, but encourage your brother. Unleashing his creative passion into the drums really does help a kid. I should know. It also cures a lot of severe traumatizing memories, in case that's helpful. And… I've once again left X-Men topic territory. Blah. Thanks for the review!
SilentStream – Evening works out, you know. He (she? It) will be fine, but thanks you for your concern anyways. Yeah, I know…me updating? And Roberto with a personality? Crazy stuff, man. Especially the updating. Terry Pratchett? Doesn't he collaborate with Neil Gaiman sometimes or something? Heard of him, haven't read of him. Why? Is he as intelligent and witty as I? (Pffft.)
Andivari – Truer words never spoken. As always, thank you for reviewing and not abandoning me and this fic halfway into its crappiness! That goes for all of you, of course.
MeltdownBabe– Will do! Thanks so much for reviewing, ma'am.
pixie stix addict – Ray lovin' makes the world go 'round. Just like Jamie, and…whatever else I have used for that cliché. Yup, Scaleface was Ray's girlfriend in the comics. = MY HERO.) Anyways. Beer and painkillers? Now I want to experiment. Must break into parents' cabinets! Twiddle dee, twiddle dum. Thanks for everything, have some rum! (Tee hee. I am a nerd.)
Aslyin – Murderous ceiling fans? Luv, and you tell me I give you disturbing images. Although the visual is making me giggle rather than causing distress. And now you're making me blush! BLUSHBLUSHBLUSH. See? … you don't really wish you were me. I eat pistachio and wearing brightly colored 80's era Minnie Mouse shirts. Wait a sec – does that make me lame or hip?
todd fan – Nothing like a straightforward review! Ahhh. "Whoot", indeed. "Whoot", indeed.
amyro 4evah – Tee hee. You are cute and amuse me. But think of it this way – imagine Tabitha. Now imagine that guy from the Goonies. And now you see it like I do!
Snitter in Rivendell – Durn it. I still have that Goonies guy in my mind, and now I can't think straight, being blinded by my visualization of that hunky piece o' meat. Innyhoo! People love Ray. I love people who love Ray. And people love people who love people who love Ray. And Ray loves muffins. (But don't we all?)
animeluvr1 – Oh, I'm up for it, all right. INSERT CREEPY LAUGHTER HERE. Lady, you're zesty like zesty hot Pringles. Or maybe zesty hot Cheetos? Naw, cheetos get stuck in your teeth. And that wouldn't be zestfully clean, now would it?
Something Freakey – New reviewer! New reviewer! I shall dance! In my pants! Thanks for the review! I have an emu!
You can waste your adoration and your tin little heart
You will never get to take me with disposable parts
In a dress
To guess
Then you taste
And let it go to waste
In your face
Pure grace
Be replaced
With something else behind you
And in my pocket I can keep you
Put you away for another day
To find you every time I need you
Throw you away when the flavor goes out
- Enon (High Society) … "Disposable Parts"
Chapter 8: Disposable Parts
Fred Dukes sat at the lunch table – the designated Brotherhood table – with his fellow team mates, his eyes on the mouthwatering Sloppy Joe before him. On his right, Todd was looking at his own meal indifferently, looking uninterested at the prospect of eating it, while across from him, Lance picked at his food with a plastic fork, his eyes not really on the plate before him, but rather, focused on a girl sitting at a table on the other side of the room, chatting animatedly with some of her Chemistry classmates. His face was set in its default grim tough-guy scowl, but Fred had caught a glimpse of it when Lance had stared at his schedule before crumpling it up a second later that day – it being an unusually wistful and dreamy face that made John Mayer look like a Hell's Angels member. Pietro sat at the other end of the table. He claimed it was to protect his nasal nerves from Todd. At the moment, he was chatting it up with a naive freshman girl sitting on the edge of the next table, who looked positively ecstatic and thrilled to be spoken to by him.
All this was going on without an ounce of Fred's notice, however. He was completely and blissfully ignorant of all his surroundings – his eyes were centered on the meal before him. To him, food was a blessing. He really did treasure every item of food that ever passed through his mouth (and that would be a lot). He wasn't stupid. (Well, maybe he was, but not as a person, you know? Not about being human and stuff. Fred wasn't sure – he just knew that morally, he probably was a better person all around than, say…Pietro. Speaking of which, the said person was now getting up to leave with naïve freshman girl #21, probably to go off in a corner and exchange saliva.) He watched the news, and knew very well about famine and starvation going on in third-world countries and the like. The thought of not being able to eat something when he wanted to frightened Fred, deeply. Sure the Brotherhood wasn't doing so good without Mystique, but they were well off enough to be able to have snacks around the house. The issue was never addressed directly, but Fred just chose to assume that Lance had gotten a job – that would explain how food kept on mysteriously reappearing in the cabinets. Todd had claimed it was the gift of the flamingo-gods, but somehow, Fred doubted that.
He was thankful that he was able to actually have the choice of wanting or not wanting to eat. So thankful, in fact, that last Thanksgiving, Fred had taken the money out of his treasured shoebox – the small amount of money that he had saved up while doing the freak show gig before Mystique got her claws in him that was supposed to have been used to retrieve his mother and have them live together in a humble, but cozy home – and used it to buy a turkey at the market. Pietro had scoffed and immediately alleged that Fred would burn it somehow; Todd had made a doubtful face and hopped off in favor of finding a safer, more reliable source of food; and Lance had stared at him bemusedly, like he was some kind of munificent simpleton to be mocked and pitied over. But to everyone's surprise, including, to a level, his own, the turkey had come out magnificently, looking almost classy enough to appear on the Food Network. Fred had beamed the whole night. Nothing was able to take his smile away. He started thinking maybe one day he could be a chef… that wouldn't be so bad. Then he voiced this notion, and Todd reminded him that unless he started "pulling greens out of his ass", it wasn't likely that he would ever be able to get anywhere near that close to being a chef – maybe a fry cook at a local Burger King. But not a real chef, attending cooking school and college and what have you.
Fred licked his lips. Yes, he appreciated the Sloppy Joe that the lunch ladies had prepared for him. His peers griped and moaned about the state of the food daily, but Fred knew that it was way better than eating poisonous spiders wrapped in leaves, like that one tribe they had seen on the Discovery Channel. (Apparently they squeezed the poison out of the spider like a packet of ketchup, then fried it up in a leaf on an open fire.)[1] Todd had been practically salivating at the display on the TV screen that day. He ate every chance he got – and he liked knowing he did. Because otherwise, it would probably just end up being wasted and tossed into the trash can.
Just as he had picked up the messy slabs of meat, sauce, and buns and began moving it towards his wide, gaping mouth, the cafeteria doors abruptly swung open, revealing a golden siren. She swept herself gracefully in (although gracefully might not have been the proper word for it…but Fred assumed that was what it was. Grace.), placed her hands strategically on her low jean-clad hips, and began moving her way through the sea of hungry adolescents.
Fred was not much of a poet – no, that was toeing it. To be blunt, Fred had never been creative in his life. When the 2nd grade teacher asked the class to draw self-portraits of themselves, most of the kids drew charmingly amateur drawings that only a 7-year old can produce. A few even went so far as to draw themselves as a butterfly ("They're pwetty, like my mommy says I am!" said the girl with a delightful lisp) or a snake ("They're really cool!" defended the boy), and the teacher had embraced these drawings as well and gave them A for originality. (She was kind of a hippie teacher, now that Fred remembered it, but nice enough anyways.) Fred had done was shuffle through the old photo albums. He hadn't been able to find any recent ones, as his mother seemed to have stopped taking pictures altogether after his father left them, so he got out his 1st grade yearbook and cut out his picture in there to glue onto a stick figure body. But all that aside, the vivacious girl who had enough moxie in her steps to stun twenty cheerleaders, was moving like a panther. Her movements were silky and had a surety to them – like she definitely knew what she was doing and where she was going. But also, with those silky smooth movements came a brash boldness, a kind of loudness that you can't hear but feel that seemed to have the potential to blow up the entire room if she wished it. The look in her eyes was predatory and voracious; there was a target in sight and she knew she was going to get it. For a breathtaking moment, Fred thought she was heading for him. She looked directly at him and a tiny smile graced her features, and at that single moment Fred's heart stopped. His entire body froze up; the only thing that kept on moving was the Sloppy Joe, with the meat sauce dripped down his hands and back down to the plate from whence it came. His mouth was still gaping open like a fish, and mentally, he knew he probably looked even thicker and stupider than Pietro said he usually did. But he couldn't move; he couldn't take his eyes from her; they were riveted on the panther goddess.
"Hey! Princess, move your royal ass and save me a seat!" She called out, maybe five feet away from the Brotherhood table. Her pace quickened when suddenly, she stopped short of where Fred sat and caught his eye. She grinned down at him from where she stood.
"See anything you like?" Her mouth was twisted in a grin that made Fred's heart all a-flutter.
"Tabby, Bobby took your seat!"
"Get your ass out of my spot, Drake!" Tabitha yelled and moved swiftly on by, brushing the back of Fred's shirt.
"Dude, keep your mouth open like that for a couple more minutes and bugs are gonna start flyin' into it." Todd said matter-of-factly. Fred, startled, dropping his burger to the table; it splattered with a sickening 'smush' sound that couldn't have been ordinary. Todd's face brightened up immediately afterwards upon seeing the now spread-out contents of the meat n' sauce.
"Hey, cool! Some pre-marinated dead bugs! Easy meal! SLURRRP."[2]
Fred merely sighed in response and stared at the table where the blonde enchantress sat among her friends, a dreamy smile on his face eerily similar to Lance's.[3]
-----
"Ah'm confused…what ah we doin' righ' now?"
Bobby rolled his eyes. "I told you, Sam. We're having an assembly. You know, for the end of the girl's soccer and wrestling seasons."
Sam still looked a bit befuddled. "We're watchin' a game in school hours?"
"Naw, just some dinky awards to give out for the players' athletic prowess."
"Aww, look, guys! Bobby's learned to expand his vocabulary after a couple months' worth of sleeping in his English class!" Tabitha said with mocking sweet sugary overtones. She was bored right now – Amara had been unfortunately separated from her in the havoc-infested process of going to the auditorium, and was now sitting way over on the other side of the large room. Consequently, Tabitha had to invite herself in to sit with the boys. Not that that was such a bad thing, but boys were for flirting and throwing away like rag dolls. Not for goofing around and joking with. (That was where Jubilee, Tabitha sadly reflected, was wrong. The poor girl didn't know from girl to boy – she even hung out with males more often than the females. Tabitha couldn't fathom why she respected them so much.)
Bobby glowered. "Shuddap."
Tabby leaned over towards Bobby, forcing Sam to retreat and shrink himself backwards into his seat. "Aw, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, muffin." To add insult to pain (or rather, pain to insult), she clamped Bobby's cheek with two fingers and began wiggling and stretching them as much as she could.
"Oorrrwwwghhff!" Bobby yelled/mumbled.
On Bobby's other side sat a sulking Ray. He was bored and a bit more irritable than normal, as this day had been so far horrible to him. He had woken up late, having joined Bobby, Jubilee, and Roberto in a mini-Super Smash Brothers competition late the night before. Because of that, he was the very last to take a bath, even after Jamie, who grudgingly followed the so-called "eldest goes first" rules of the Institute that had been circled around as a rumor-ish fiction made with him specifically in mind. When he had finally gotten in and out of the shower, he had found that everybody had left just a minute before and was now therefore late, because nobody could give him a ride. Ororo was gone and the Professor off on business and Logan had given an answer that distinctly seemed to translate to "when hell freezes over, bub". The token fee for being late to school was taking on the chore duties for the day, so he had that to look forward to. So Ray had to walk to school. On the way there, he was bitten by a muffin – er, I mean, squirrel. And now he couldn't even manage to snag a seat next to Tabby! Instead, she was sitting between the two guys that irritated him most – Sam, with his goofy, "loveable" hick loser ways, and Roberto, who Ray just couldn't stop finding flaws and nitpicks in him. (He had somewhat complied with the Prof. to try to get to know Roberto, and vice versa, but their personalities seemed destined to clash against each other. Not something that could be helped. Ray picked fights with him as often as he could, and now that Roberto spoke much more often, so did he.)
Ray frowned. Come to think of it, Bobby annoyed him sometimes too. Like he was doing now, rocking his chair back and forth while humming some sort of Euro-techno mix song.
Tabby leaned forward once more, her painted lips in a pout. "What's wong, baby? You wook so gwoomy!"
Bobby chortled. "He's just mad because he's having a bad day. A lot of bad luck stuff."
"Psh. You believe in luck and all that superstition crap?" Tabitha scoffed.
Bobby looked surprised at the question. "Well, why not? One time, my uncle saw these two black cats when passing the cemetery, and the next day-"
"Lemme guess," Tabby interrupted with a dull voice, "He died."
Bobby blinked. "Uh, no, he didn't, actually. He won $300 from the lottery."
It was Tabitha's turn to blink. "Oh…ah."
"And then while he was walking home, his leg got mauled by two wild mountain lions. He used some of the lottery money to buy himself a fancy, rhinestone-incrusted prosthetic leg." A silence veiled over the four mutants.
Sam interjected into the conversation. "So…what does that mean?" He asked curiously.
Bobby shrugged. "I dunno. Just sayin' is all." He turned towards Ray. "Do you want to learn my technique for passing bad luck on to someone else? It's this thing my grandma made up, but I think it sort of works sometimes."
Ray arched an eyebrow skeptically. His mind, however, said, Aw, fuggit. Why the hell not? "Sure." He said nonchalantly.
Bobby smacked the back of Ray's head. Ray proceeded to string a chain of curses that would put both a sailor and your average rapper – combined – to shame. When people began staring, Sam tried to interrupt the tirade, his façade a bit flushed from Ray's vocabulary. "So…ya hafta hit someone to give 'em your bad luck?"
(Soon-to-be-known-as) Dead Bobby smiled sheepishly. "Actually, no. You just have to touch them somewhere in the back of the head and above the elbows– maybe on the shoulder or something. Then you have to say their name. But what I did to Ray is what my granny usually did on us, so I think maybe her way is the most accurate."
"Makes sense ta me." Sam grinned.
The boy turned back towards Ray. "So anyhow," he continued, oblivious of Ray's dangerous glare, "I've touched you, which should mean my bad luck's all on you. But I didn't say your name right afterwards. Would you like me to do it again?"
"Ah'll help!" Sam said cheerfully. He punched Ray in the shoulder. Ray tried to hide his wince and failed. Sam, for all his gawky lankiness was worth, obviously had scrounged up some strength working on a farm all those years, and severely underestimated his strength. "Ray!" Sam said with a naïve smile.
Ray was about to send electricity into them both right there when he finally noticed where Tabby had gone in the midst of their conversation. She was flirting with Roberto, who had been unusually quiet and inactive in their conversation. That would be because a cute girl was on the other side of him, looking a bit huffy from having Roberto stolen from her to chat with. Tabby had obviously gotten bored of the superstition ramblings and eyed Roberto talking to an attractive female other than her, triggering the vicious man-eating aspect of her personality.
"What're you doing talking to a bubblegum airhead ditz like her?" Tabitha asked Roberto, not bothering to lower her voice. The said ditzy airhead widened her eyes and quietly seethed.
Roberto shrugged. "She struck up a conversation with me. It's not illegal." He eyed her with an amused smirk. "Are you jealous, Tabitha?"
Tabitha rolled her eyes. "Screw that, Bertie. I'm just protective of my boys, is all. Ain't that right Sam? Bobby?"
Bobby merely rubbed his sore cheeks and glowered, while Sam remained suspiciously silent. Roberto settled back into his seat, looking supremely arrogant. Tabitha tweaked his ear before he could get too comfortable.
"You know, I miss old Roberto. The one who had extreme male-PMS all the time and gave everybody dirty looks while never talking. It was kind of sexy, in a grumpy mean 'Mr. Rochester' way." She gave the ear one last tug. "But I guess I could learn to get used to this one too. The overwhelming ego and self-confident arrogance is kinda hot."
The anonymous airhead girl blinked and interjected.
"You read Jane Eyre?" Tabitha made a face at her.
"Like I said – one of us is a blonde bubblegum pop cookie-cutter idiot, and the other is actually a blonde, intelligent, sexy woooo-man."[4]
Roberto slouched down his seat and grinned up at Tabitha. "Now who were you calling arrogant again?"
While Roberto and Tabitha quarreled flirtatiously with the other girl in the sidelines sulking and making the odd comment (now with Bobby eying her a bit), Ray got up from his seat.
"Where yah goin', Ray?" Sam inquired.
"Uh…to the bathroom. Yeah, to the bathroom." Ray got up to move towards the right aisle. He shoved past Bobby's shoes perched on the seat in front of him, stepped on Sam's poor ickle abused toes, and moved a tad bit gentler past Tabby's feet, also on the edge of the seat in front of her. Roberto was just ahead. Unfortunately, fate (or was it luck?) called Ray's foot down upon his own loose shoe tie. He tripped, his arms wavering up in the air unsteadily. They fell short of Roberto's shoulder and tipped over his balance. The blonde girl next to Roberto shrieked as he practically fell into her lap. By this time, their row had garnered quite an audience. An audience big enough to capture a certain leader's attention.
Before Ray could even lift his head from where it had crashed into the girl's elbow, the "ditz" shoved him away from her. He stumbled off of her and clung into the closest thing he could grab anchor to. A very tall shoulder. That can't be Roberto, his mind said vaguely. He was a bit dizzy. Roberto's a frickin' oompah loompah, he's hella short…
"RAY!" The said person raised his eyes and jumped away. "Scott!" He exclaimed. "Oh, fuck – I mean, shit – ah, fuck, I meant – son of a bitch – uhh -" He quickly tried to recover from his repetitive fumbles, and knew it was a bit too late, as every passing second made Scott's expression become tighter and his mouth line angrier.
"Ass fuck, I meant to say – crap, I… um, darn it. Sorry."
"Very good, Ray! Now if you just strike out the first 10 stumbled words from the record, you'll be in the clear!" Tabby cheered.
"Not helping, Tabitha." Scott said sternly.
"Pffft. Since when have I ever?"
Ignoring the last statement, Scott re-directed his ruby quartz-covered eyes to the guilty New York street punk. "Ray, I would very much like to do horrible, painful things to you at this moment. Do not think this time it is over when I tell the professor, like your little light-up incident. I will not relent in my pursuit for your imminent torture. Right now, I shall -"
"Will everybody please take their seat now? Quiet down please, the assembly is starting." said Principal Kelly from the podium below. Scott gave Ray one last awful look, mouthed "This is not over" and walked down three rows and to the left to sit down next to Kurt. Ray felt his body slouch and loosen its tension, and slinked moodily back to his seat. Bobby gave him an appraising look.
"God, what a tight ass. I'm starting to think there really is a stick lodged up in his anus." Bobby whispered. Ray bit his lip to fight from laughing and simply scowled in reply. He crossed his arms and settled back deep into his chair, mentally hoping this would be over and done very quickly as Jean walked out of the curtains and onto the stage.
-----
"Why are we walking home? Couldn't Miss Munroe pick us up from the bus stop?" Jamie whined for the fourth time that afternoon in a very typical stubborn baby "I-dun-wanna" kind of voice. Jubilee felt her eye twitch, but Rahne, who was a little less irritable, kindly answered him for a turn. She, however, fancified the
"Because, Jamie – everybody's too busy tae pick us up. Remember? Today's Miss Jean's award ceremony. We're going tae have a party fur her tomorrow, and the adults are preparing!"
Jamie visibly brightened by two or three shades. "A party? Really?"
"Yes, and then we're going to have some hippos for tea time." Jubilee grumbled. Rahne jabbed her lightly with her elbow while Jamie, unaware of Jubilee's comment, started doing a tiny mini-dance/boogie/crazed twitchy seizure. She gave Jubilee a very pointed look that said 'Well, the lie worked, didn't it?' The Scot girl turned her head back towards Jamie to make sure he was a safe distance behind them while still in view and leaned closer towards her friend.
"Are ye going tae ask Bobby out tonigh'?" She whispered. Jubilee's face flushed a bright red in .07 seconds flat – she was quite easily embarrassed for someone so brash and loud when concerning boys, it seemed.
"What are you talkin' about?" Jubilee said in a very loud, peculiar voice. Rahne gave her a strange look when she started laughing at full volume in a nervous sort of way. "HAHAHAH! HAH. GOOD ONE, RAHNEi'mgoingtostrangleyouwhenwegethome." Jubilee said very quickly, all in one breath while still smiling gaily. Rahne gulped. It would be very easy for Jubilee to, too – they were sharing a room, and it would be only too easy to corner Rahne in private and suffocate her with a pillow. (Jubilee's old room that she shared with Amara was still under…construction… and was nearly completely tidied up. However, it seemed to the Professor that Rahne and Jubilee were getting along nicely, while Tabitha and Amara were bonding fast as well, despite Tabitha's habits. So he didn't say anything to the girls, and they seemed entirely content with it.)
"What is the meaning of keeping a secret? Did you somehow FORGET?" Jubilee whispered loudly (A/N: oxymoron anyone?) while darting uneasy looks back at the still oblivious Jamie. Rahne rolled her eyes at her friend's paranoia.
"Come off it; he didn' hear anything. So – are yeh?"
Jubilee glared at the petite redhead before reluctantly replying. "I…don't know. I-I'm starting to reconsider the whole liking business."
"What? Why?" Rahne asked wonderingly. Jubilee kicked at a nearby rock absently with a sullen face. Poor rock. It didn't deserve that.
"Oh, come on Rahne; look at me."
"I'm lookin', lass."
"Now picture Tabitha, and then you'll know why I'm pouting."
Rahne sighed loudly with exaggerated gusto. "Oh, PLEASE, Jubilee. Bobby's not interested in Tabby! I mean, sure he looks every once in a while, but every boy does, it's Tabby…"
"You're not helping. Like, at all."
"What I'm saying is this: Tabitha's fur lookin', darling. Not for touchin'. He don't have feelings for her – unless he's very stupid. Which, by dae way, he is, but no' abou' stuff like that."
"Right." But Jubilee still looked depressed and skeptical. "But I'm like…what, three? FOUR years younger than him? Why would he go out with an EIGHTH GRADER?"
Rahne patted her back sympathetically. "Because ye are a talented, pretty, funny, brilliant lovely of a gal."
Jubilee pretended to wipe away an imaginary tear. "Aww… you forgot nice."
"No, I didn'." Rahne grinned cheekily at her before jumping away from Jubilee's kick and ran quickly away, her accelerated agility having an advantage. Jubilee laughed.
"Come on Jamie, catch up!" She began sprinting forth before glancing back, and nearly simultaneously tripped over her own head and choked. Jamie was nowhere to be seen.
"Jamie? Jamie! JAMIE!" Jubilee started yelling, beginning to get a tiny bit hysterical. Rahne came running back, looking puzzled by Jubilee's shouts. "What's wrong?"
"Jamie! I can't find him! Where is he??"
Rahne widened her eyes for a moment before whirling around and yelling herself. "JAMIE! Jay-meeee, where are ye?!! Curse ye, lad; so irresponsible!"
"JAAAAAMMIIIEEEE!" They began searching through the area. Jubilee hopped over the fence from the sign that said "DON'T FEED THE WILDLIFE" while Rahne readied to transform, until she froze up when a car passed by. Jubilee returned, looking pale. "Where could he be? There's nothing but flat road for miles, and he can't possibly be stupid enough to go in that deep in the forest, right??"
Rahne bit her lip. "I don't -"
"I'm right here you guys! Geez!" Jubilee and Rahne spun to see Jamie behind them, giggling.
"JAMIE! Where did you come from? Where did you go? How could you be so IRRESPONSIBLE?!" Jubilee ran up to hug him, when he suddenly disappeared, right before her eyes. She gasped. "AHH! WHAT DID I DO?!" Jubilee screamed.
"What did ye do!?!" Rahne screamed. They heard a noise, and jumped to find Jamie – the real Jamie, not a multiple - drop from a high branch before them. He brushed himself off and made a little pose that seemed to signal 'ta-daaaa!'. Jubilee once again ran up towards him. Jamie opened his arms to accept hug when –
"OW!" Jubilee swatted him lightly upside the head. "JAMIE! Stop giggling! It's cruel! We were worried!"
"I'm sorry, guys." Jamie giggled out before at last stopping. "It was just funny to me. You were so deep in your conversation you didn't even notice me climbing the tree!"
Jubilee looked like she was ready to kill. "Next time, you might as well get lost and not bother to return, Jamie! That was a horrible, mean thing to do!"
Rahne glowered, her sunny disposition suddenly put out by the not-quite-funny prank. "Jamie, Jubilee knows funny. Bobby knows funny. Sometimes Tabitha knows funny, when funny isn't concerning stealing or blowing up things. That wasn't funny." She was breathing a bit hard. The memory of Amara being kidnapped – the panic, the sheer fright – swam up inside her mind.
Jubilee broke up the awkward spell by quickly resuming the walking pace, now at a much faster speed.
"C'mon, then. Let's go home." There was no trace of jovialness or – excuse the pun – or not? PUNPUNPUNPUN! – jubilee in her steps.
By the time they had reached home, the high schoolers were home already as well, moving around the house doing their own thing, whether it was in search of after-school snacks, doing/avoiding homework, or being summoned to the professor's study, as was Ray's case when he passed by the trio at the entrance. Jamie waited until he was halfway done stalking across the room and Jubilee and Rahne, still resentful, were gone for a few seconds before running up to him. "Hi Ray! I was -"
"Not now, kiddo." Ray cut him off before he could finish. It was obvious by his tone that that was his final answer. Jamie watched him drag himself away into the professor's office, looking angry and depressed. He sighed and looked around a bit lonesome-like when Bobby and Sam came running out laughing uncontrollably.
"Bobby, Sam! Can I play?" Jamie asked hopefully.
"Maybe when you're older!" Bobby yelled out quickly before exiting through the doors. Sam actually stopped for a second to smile apologetically to the boy – at least, until Amara appeared, clad in only a securely-tied bathrobe, shower cap, and dripping wet. She looked madder than a mad cow. (A/N: Ooooh! SUUUURRVEVEDD. :B)
"TREASURE THESE LAST MOMENTS, SAM! BECAUSE YOU AND BOBBY WILL BE DEADER THAN DEAD IN ABOUT TWO SECONDS!" Amara roared, her shower cap igniting into flames as she fired up upon saying the last two words with more passion. Sam gulped and took off like a burglar, with Amara close at his heels. Jamie was still pondering what on earth Bobby and Sam had done when he realized it. In the back of Amara's damp hair were dead bugs – and some alive ones, clinging on and tangled in. He grinned for a moment before slumping his shoulders. Well, that obviously looked too fun for Jamie to be allowed to participate in. Bobby's words rang in his head: Maybe when you're older. Jamie pouted cutely. That was their excuse for everything! At least before, Jubilee and Rahne had been a little nicer and sympathetic to his age difference plight than the others since they were closest to his age. And now they hated him, he had nobody, because he'd been stupid and hurt their feelings.
Maybe Jubilee was right. Maybe he should just leave. It would make everyone happier anyways, right? If they even noticed. Jamie stifled from crying, trying hard to force the water down from his eyes and hold back sniffling. Try to be mature now, Jamie. Maybe you'll get good enough at it for them to want you back. Maybe if you stop acting like such a baby…
He left to his room he shared with Bobby and Sam to self-dispute over this.
-----
The great thing about the Institute at night was that things had settled way down by then. Normally, the time when adolescents positively thrive is at night. But the adults – especially Logan – made sure it was different at the Xavier Institute. Everyone had to do their chores before dinner (the exception, of course, being washing the dinner plates). The afternoon Danger Room session took place right before dinner as well, so that meant chores were to be done before even the Danger Room session. The smart ones made sure to do their homework right when they got home, but the procrastinating types (they actually made up more than half the school) stayed up late to do their homework – even after being tuckered out by Logan's insane session. Unfortunately, procrastinating types are what they are – procrastinating people. Therefore, they want to stay with the smart people who did their homework already downstairs to watch TV and forget their stress while laughing at scantily-dressed inheritance girls traveling the country on a road trip. They then end up staying up in the wee hours of the morn, trying to finish their homework without success, fall asleep, wake up at their desk with drool on their paper, and try to scribble on two or three answers from their room mate before they wake up – if they're lucky enough to have a smart room mate.
Jean was, of course, the most notorious smart ones there was, both at Xavier's and at Bayville High. She had standards that many could not hope to meet up to. She wasn't genius smart, per se – she was just an incredibly diligent hard worker. Sometimes she got annoyed by Kitty – her combination of Valley Girl ditziness with an IQ of 128 was something Jean couldn't fathom, nor hope to be. She had always been forced to be this – the role model that everyone looked up to. And she succeeded, as she always did in life. Even Kitty, gifted as she was, admired Jean, if not for her smarts, then for her beauty and talent. Because Jean was perfect. Whenever Rogue called her Miss Perfect or some other sort of sarcastic nick name like that, both Rogue and Jean and everyone knew it was true. It was a title that Jean had strived for nearly all her life. And when you start a habit of things, it's hard to break them. Jean would never be able to break out of her Miss Perfect mold. The question was, did she want to?
The tall redhead looked down at the trophy in her hands. Her mind could not be set to ease. Ever since the incident at the assembly, her mind was restless, and kept on drifting and wandering off. Not in the literal sense of course, but Jean almost felt it was. She couldn't place it exactly – whether it was a migraine or what. She just felt… peculiar. Off.
"Jean? Do you need a ride?" Scott knocked on the door before opening and entering her room. "Jean? You there?" He moved the glass sliding door out of the way to where she stood, leaning against the balcony.
"Hi Scott. It's fine, Duncan's on his way right now to take me early. I'm going to help him set up the drinks and food." Jean cast a curious eye on him. "Do you want to come with? I mean, you probably don't want to come early, but it is more convenient…"
"Ahh. Err, well, I would, but – errm, see, I've…got to…euh, prepare my outfit."
Jean barely suppressed her laugh. God, Scott, you're such an awful liar. So why do you even bother? I'm a telepath, for crying out loud. "Right." She nodded and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, offering a warm smile. "Then I'll see you there?"
"Definitely." He smiled back before it fell and hesitantly spoke up again. "Uh…Jean…are you alright? Because…what happened at the assembly…"
"Oh, don't worry about that. It was just a headache. You know how I've been complaining of those a lot lately." Jean lied through her teeth, smiling all the way. If Scott was going to lie to her face and keep secrets from her, then so would she. Even Miss Perfect isn't perfect sometimes.
As Scott, looking reassured, gave her a last good bye before departing the room, Jean lingered her thoughts on the tall, lanky leader of the X-Men. Even though Scott was Scott, and had always been Scott – boring, predictable, I've-got-to-have-a-routine-for-everything Scott, he always tried to hide his past from her. It infuriated her. For him to assume they were best friends sometimes bordering on something more – but keep secrets from her? It was maddening. When Jean had first found out – two Christmases ago, when everybody was talking about family and friends and love and whatnot, Scott had his guard and shield down. Jean had thought he was fine, when a few louder-than-expected thoughts snuck out from Scott's mind for Jean's ear to hear that made him sound surprisingly somber and unhappy. It was something concerning his family. She had felt too guilty to pry further at the time, but later had to resist the temptation over and over again with reluctant conscience. Why? Because she was angry! Jean had always told Scott everything – absolutely everything – to him. There had been no secrecy on her part, and she had believed it was the same for him. When she realized that he had, all this time, been lying to her, her mirror literally shattered.
From then on, she swore never to get closer to Scott Summers than friends. Even though she really, really wanted to be with him. (And he even more so with her.) She had to make him squirm – make him feel guilty for betraying her trust; make him realize he was in the wrong for making her believe they were really best friends. Her old best friend never…
She swallowed the knot in her throat. It was hard to think about Marissa, even after all these years. For a moment, she once again pondered why on earth her mind was drifting and touching upon dusty age-old topics that hadn't surface in her head for years, until she shook it out and tried to remember what she had been thinking about.
Scott liked her. Maybe even loved her. But certainly, he wasn't in love with her, try as he might pretend to act like it, or as all of her friends repeatedly cried to her. Those cries fell deaf to her ears, and his act was anything but real. And she would make him pay for making her think that it was. Her heart wasn't to be used like a dirty rag. She treasured it, and never gave it away. And to make him suffer and squirm, she knew the best way to get to him – jealousy. That was where Duncan – slow-minded, immature, handsome football legend Duncan came in. He was shallow and superficial and, as Jean could read in his mind, did not and would never consider their relationship steady or anything serious. She liked that. It was safe – that way, she knew her heart wouldn't be ruthlessly tugged by the strings and ripped apart. He was athletic and brawny and attractive in that stereotypical jock sort of way – his broken nose even just made him more rugged and handsome-looking. He was pretty much the exact opposite of Scott. That just further confirmed the safety of her affections.
"Hello? Jean?"
The psychic turned her head to see the slender, pretty new recruit, Amara, step inside her room. She motioned for Amara to join her outside at the terrace, although she really preferred to be alone at the moment. Miss Perfect is friendly and outgoing all the time, no matter what, and it would be imperfect of her to not invite. Fortunately, the princess shook her head.
"No, I won't be long. I was just wondering if you have any perfume that I could borrow. If at all possible, flower-scented."
Jean arched an eyebrow. "Really? Are you going on a date with one of the boys?" She asked in a mischievous tone. Instead of giggling and a blush, as Jean had expected, Amara stared at her like she had some huge deformity on her face with a mixture of incredulity.
"You are joking, of course? I'd never go out with those filthy peasant savages!" Amara scoffed. "They are not only beneath me, but are not fit to be in my presence, let alone…ugh, kiss me." She shuddered at the last part, literally growing goose bumps on her arms. Though that might've also been due to the sudden breeze blowing. Jean felt it too, and left the outside terrace to join Amara inside her room, closing the sliding door behind her. She had a tiny grin on her face. Amara was unafraid of words, and said what she wanted. It had been a while since she had met someone like that. Inside, Jean's conscience twisted. She had not given much effort to befriending the new recruits at all. Even though her duty and responsibility that had been imparted on her by Professor Xavier was to befriend and extend an arm to all the mutants… she had been so busy doing that to all of the outside ones that she hadn't done enough of it with the ones living with her!
"So what is the perfume for, then? Experimentation?" Jean walked towards her dresser and vanity mirror, where all of her make-up and framed photos sat atop. Amara observed Jean's room with relative interest, looking around a bit before realizing Jean had spoken to her and jumped. "Oh, yes, errm…you could call it that."
"Ahh." Jean pulled out some drawers and shuffled around. Hmm. A little messier than usual. This was not Miss Perfect material, not at all. "So how are you liking your stay here so far? Are you enjoying what parts that don't involve Logan pulling you out at 6 AM for Danger Room sessions?"
"Oh, I suppose. It was…difficult for me, at first, but I've grown used to it and find myself enjoying it more and more everyday." The dark-haired girl stood strangely silent and still for a moment, her head bowed down. Jean was about to say something to strike up conversation again when Amara resumed.
"This place has taught me much in just a few months. I thought I knew everything there was to life in Nova Roma, but…" Amara pulled her arms around herself as if she were cold. Jean glanced for a split second at the sliding door to make sure it was closed, and found it was so. "…It has been difficult, transitioning from there to here. I have to say, the reason I was so cold and rude to people…partly it was because of my upbringing, and it was also partly because I was afraid."
Jean halted her ruffling-busily-through-the-drawers-act and reached waves of empathy to the young girl. Fear was something Jean could relate to, very well. It was something that constantly haunted her steps. The fear of failing; of letting everyone down; letting herself down…
"It's natural to drive people away when you're scared. You just want to be by yourself." Jean patted her back. She thought Amara would retreat away hastily, as she seemed like the person to do that sort of thing, but surprisingly, she didn't.
"That is true. I felt very alone, even surrounded by so many people." Amara looked up from the strands of rich dark hair covering half her face, and her eyes seemed to glow. "Even when I was surrounded by so many people who were supposedly…just like…me…"
Jean's throat constricted. Hating herself…hating being a mutant…a freak… not normal. Different from everyone else – even your own family, and not even in the good way.
"I have grown to them, of course." Amara's queer look in her eyes disappeared, and she practically threw her head up high in the air where it belonged – the imperious nose pointed high above. Her voice became strong and commanding once again. "They are not so bad for lower-class plebeians. Most of them, anyways. I can not vouch for the 'boys' and their dead bug-loving ways."
"Erp?" Jean inquired, transcending from "empathy" to "befuddlement" in two seconds flat. That was hardly Miss Perfect-like either, Jean. Three strikes. You fail.
Amara sniffed daintily and snatched the tiny pink vial that Jean held in her hand. "Do you have any honey? You know, authentic bee-made honey?"
"Why?"
Amara grinned evilly; a grin not unlike many a new recruit's expression, but it most outstandingly matched Tabitha's. She gave the perfume a tiny spray into the air. "It is to be a gift to Bobby and Sam." She sniffed, for real this time, and her long eyelashes fluttered while her eyes widened and she made a pleasant "Oooh!" sound. "This is quite lovely! I thought everybody's taste in smell was even worse than Tabitha's, whose scent is fine enough once you get used to the hussy brazen aspects of it… but this is…well, is it jasmine?"
"Oh, yes, I love jasmine. My favorite flower. You can keep it, if you like. I can get more easily." Jean smiled pleasantly and graciously. Only a true Miss Perfect could retain a sense of feminism and outdoorsy sporty soccer chick while at the same time being feminine and delicate. And only a true Miss Perfect would give away an expensive perfume just like that with such charity! At the same time, however, her head hurt most spectacularly. There was a loud beeping sound that could be the start of a migraine…no, wait, it was just the sound of Duncan's car horn. He wouldn't even come out of his car to ring the doorbell? How un-gentleman like. Fabulous. Jean twirled for Amara.
"How do I look?" Please say 'nice', please say 'nice', it's not Miss Perfect if it isn't nice…
Amara swept her eyes up and down for a moment before smiling. "It is nice. Hip and slim-fitting enough to show off your curves, but elegant enough not to be trashy. I approve."
Jean smiled back – a real genuine smile, the first one in a while. "Thank you. That was exactly what I was going for."
-----
Kurt was rubbing furiously at his nose. No, reader, he didn't have an itch or was trying to pick some gold out of the treasure box – his sensitive nose (gifted at sniffing out delicious food, although it failed him when Kitty was cooking) was stinging from the encounter with Kitty. He had teleported to the hall, and at that same moment, Kitty was walking down the same hall. She walked into him, looking too late, and they crashed into each other. Lying crumpled up on the floor with his head underneath the back of Kitty's shirt, Kurt smelled a most hideous scent. The smell of someone who hadn't bathed in two years, and then swam in a sea of garbage sewage and dead rotten things. But then, his prankster-loving side instinctively recognized it – le stink bomb.
His eyes practically welled up just from the fresh memory. Oh, great! He thought, and started rubbing at his eyes with his other hand to avoid transferring the stinging from his nose to his eyes. Because of that, he bumped into someone for the second time that day.
"Ahh!" THUD.
"Oof!" THUD.
Kurt rubbed his head and got up. This time around, it wasn't nearly as painful. It appeared the other victim was a bit more hurt. "Are you okay? I hope Kitty's scent didn't rub off from me to you. Oh, Amara!" He exclaimed as she stirred from the floor and groaned. Quickly, he tried to be a gentleman and help her up, but she swatted him away.
"I'm fine, I don't need your help, idiot…oh." Amara looked up and saw someone else than she had assumed to be. Kurt's face was filled with hurt, but he quickly hid it in favor of an amused smile. "Kurt! Oh, geez. I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else."
"Who are you so mad at to call 'idiot'?" Kurt asked, helping her up with an extended hand without being rejected. "I vould not like to be zat person." He said jokingly.
"Ha ha." Amara said humorlessly. "I should think not." Amara brushed imaginary dirt off of her clothes. Kurt breathed in, and was pleasantly surprised to find the aroma pleasant.
"Danke! Your flowery scent, vhile a tad on ze girly side, has cleared my sinuses of gross icky Kitty stink bomb smell!"
Amara blinked as Kurt gathered her up and hugged her, lifting her up from the floor. "Err…you're welcome then, Kurt." Having spent some length at the Institute, Kurt was still the only male she genuinely liked and respected. He was goofy and fooled around like all the rest of him, but at the same time, he carried a sense of elegance and kind gentlemen qualities that were apt to be found in Nova Roma. That was one of the things that puzzled the girl most in America – here, jokesters and fools and the equivalent of "village idiots" were actually praised and more admired by your peers than the kind, polite ones with etiquette? How bizarre, the foreign noble had thought.
"Amara! There you are! Oh good, you've got the perfume. I have the honey. Come on, stop flirting with wild blue yonder boy and get a move on! We are going to go out and pay revenge to those dumb asses Bobby and Sam before the night is up, however sweet and innocent they appear to be!" Tabitha appeared out of nowhere and swept Amara away by grabbing her arm and dragging her away. Kurt blinked, offended, while Amara gave a despairing, apologetic look to him.
"Wild blue yonder boy?!" He exclaimed. Tabitha glanced back and winked. "Don't worry Smurf-Kurt; you're cuter than all the other boys anyways!"
"SMURF-KURT?!!"
"What's a Smurf, Tabby?"
-----
20 minutes later, Bobby, Sam, Rahne, and Jubilee were outside. A complete fiasco had ensued in that quarter-hour – Bobby and Sam had gotten completely soaked with jasmine-scented perfume and bucketfuls of honey; Jubilee had shrieked and started to throw firecrackers at the bees that had appeared from the nearby hive in the trees which had 1. turned out to not be very smart and 2. made the bees very angry; Rahne tried to divert their attention by transforming into a wolf but failed; Bobby found a neat little trick and iced himself over completely; which left Sam to fend for himself and cannonball (A/N: PUNPUNPUNPUH – ah, screw it, that one was too easy.) to the nearest body of water, which was the pool, even though it was early November; and after they had retrieved a freezing, shivering Sam in a state near to hypothermia, Tabitha and Amara revealed themselves from their location behind some bushes and were laughing their asses off; what resulted was death, doom, destruction, and/or lots of ice, fireworks, molten lava, and cherry bombs. (Somehow, miraculously, Scott's car parked in front was not scratched at all. Perhaps Bobby and Sam's bad luck truly did all go to Ray.) In the midst of this, Sam and Rahne, the only two present in the impromptu mutant fight without air projectile element-type powers, grew bored, and started a mini tag game of their own. It could've also been seen as frisbee without a frisbee, as Rahne transformed into her wolf form and began leading Sam on a chase around the Institute. Eventually, all this came to pass over, and Tabitha and Amara retired to the inside because it was getting chilly and fast approaching dark. ("That", Tabby added as they left, "or go bother Turkey and Bertie. They've suspiciously been too quiet for too long.") That left Jubilee and Bobby, both of whom were currently deep in an intense round of 'thumb war'. They grew tired of sitting on the stone steps ("My bottom is freezing. You shouldn't have iced EVERYTHING over, Bobby.") and leaned against Scott's fancy-shmancy red sports car, playing 3 out of 5, 5 out of 7, and so forth.
"HAHAH! I win! I win! Jubilation Lee is the winner! Huzzah! Sound the trumpets! NO ONE in the land can beat Jubilation the J- err – JUHBEAUTIFUL!" Jubilee boasted, dancing about immaturely. Bobby watched her, a mixture of amusement and the disappointment of losing displayed in his face.
"That doesn't make sense! "Juh-beautiful"?" Bobby challenged.
"In the land of Jubileria, words need not make sense!" Jubilee proved this point by – sticking out her tongue. Marvelous.
"Heh. Right. Stop bragging, or else I will freeze your tongue off."
"Gasp! You wouldn't! Not to a lay-dee."
"You are not a lady. You are a mean braggart."
Jubilee pouted, but leaned back against the car next to him again. Inwardly, she was cursing himself. GREAT! Now he doesn't even think of me as a chick, just one of the guys! Oh GOOD GOD, maybe even his LITTLE BROTHER. Ugh, this is secondary school all over again. Must stop being a tomboy. …Can not. Still like bugs and fart jokes. Urgh.
In the silence, Bobby cocked his head sideways and grinned with a knowing look in his eyes. Jubilee eyed him suspiciously. "What? Stop staring at me like that, or else I will burn your eyebrows off, knave!"
"I was just thinking how weird a name 'Jubilation' is. Heh."
Jubilee raised her balled-up fist threateningly. "I am warning you, Bobby…I can punch HARD…I am blessed with my natural Chinese-born blessed kung-fu abilities…"
Bobby raised his hands in surrender. "I'm just wondering! No, really. Why'd your parents name you that?"
"They were hippies."
"Seriously."
Jubilee slumped her shoulders in relent. "Okay, okay, fine, you want to hear the boring version. My parents had been trying to get a baby for a really long time, and by the time I was born, my mom had already gone through 5 miscarriages. I was actually a premature born baby and had, like, 50% chance of surviving, and when I did, they considered it a change of course in their luck coded in the stars – that I was their luck and fortune and destiny, blablablah. My dad was considering naming me Lucky or Star, but my mom said Jubilation was prettier, and described what joy I brought to them. I'm glad anyways – at least I don't have the namesake of a cartoon cereal box leprechaun."
"That's…" Bobby carefully considered his choice of words. "Cool."
"Really? 'Cause I hate my name. I LOATHE it. It's awful and weird and strange."
Bobby looked shocked. "But why? You defend it so heatedly, I would think…"
"Aw, I don't want to dishonor my parents' memory or anything. I have to…" Jubilee faltered, and trailed off awkwardly, looking upset and confused. Oblivious to her warbling, Bobby resumed control of the conversation. "Well, this is what I'm thinking: let's think of nicknames for you!"
Jubilee snapped out of her reverie and looked at the blonde-haired boy uncertainly. "Nick name? Earth to Iceman – I already have one. Jubilee? From Jubilation? It works that way."
"Nicknames are fun. The more you have, the cooler you are." Bobby paused. "Did you just call me Iceman?"
"Yeah. I made it up, nickname boy."
"Naw, stick with Iceman! It sounds – tough." Bobby stuck out his chest. Jubilee coughed, trying to hide her laughter.
"So how about…Jubes. Jubes is nice."
"Rhymes with boobs."
"Jubjub?"
"What the heck? Sounds like a Pokemon or something."
"How 'bout Jubi? Jubi's cute!"
"Sounds like Jujubes. And those are nasty."
"Jujubes! Hah! That's awesome!"
"Is not! You better not call me that."
"Would you prefer Jububus?"
"No, I -"
"Ahhh, I realize now. You want Juboobies, Miss Juh-Beautiful."
"Shut. Up. NOW."
"What's wrong, Jumbalaya? Do you want some jambalaya with your juboobies, Miss JubiJubjub Jubes?"
"KILL YOU."
"Jubilee Lee, right? Lee Lee! Lee? Lee La Lee? La Lee? Lolly! Jubi Lolly! Now THAT is a great nickname. It also somewhat resembles a porn star name…"
"KILL YOU SO HARD."
"No, wait, a REAL porn star name would be Juboobies Juh-Beautiful Jubjubs. That would be awesome."
"YARGH!" Jubilee jumped him.
The next 5 minutes were well-spent, in Jubilee's opinion, pulling at Bobby's hair (which completely ruined his careful dorky parted hair – his mother would be so ashamed!), gnawing at his shoulder, and pulling at his ears. Eventually the tumble calmed down, and Jubilee forgave Bobby when he made a tiny ice ballerina figurine for her. It was quite breathtaking, and Jubilee quietly commented that Bobby should be an artist.
"Maybe." Bobby started to carve in painstaking tiny details. A charming little ribbon in the ballerina's hair, which was divided into tiny, tiny miniscule strands. Slanted, dark, vibrant eyes that resembled Jubilee's a bit… he spun it around and released from the palm of his hand a light sprinkle of fairy-like snow, so tiny and thin that they resembled glittering dots of light. Jubilee gasped with delight and leaned in closer, her cheek nearly touching Bobby's.
Two separate thoughts of two different beings:
This would be the perfect time to say something about us.
Holy crap, I have the biggest wedgie ever.
Try to differentiate and identify which thought belongs to which person. Meanwhile – Scott is running late! Late, late, late! Late for a very important date/ brush off by Jean in favor of Duncan!
"WHOA!" SLIP.
"EYAAHH!" SLIDE.
"ARGH!" THUD.
"BLARGH!" HURT'D!
"Ugh, my head… Bobby, clean up your -BEEP-in' ice!"
Scott drove off, looking extremely testy and PMS-like. Bobby and Jubilee stared at the dust that rose up. Bobby voiced the question they had both been pondering.
"…Did he just say 'beep' instead of fuck?"
Jubilee and Bobby stared at each other, and then burst into laughter.
Oh, Scotty. You silly head.
-----
[1] – Tru3 stuph. Though it might not have been Discovery Channel. Whatever it was, it seriously made me appreciate the instant macaroni I had that night.
[2] – Another true story – a dead fly in my cafeteria meal one fateful day in 3rd grade. Although it wasn't a burger or whatever. Oh, noooo. It was inside a Taco Bell-sponsored bean burrito. And it had been sealed inside a little plastic covering and everything, so the fly must've gotten in there way early in the process, which made me swear off Taco Bell and school food for the rest of my life.
[3] – Alright, so the Brotherhood had nothing to do with this episode (except for maybe the Lance/Kitty) and really didn't need any special characterization or scenes worked in this chapter for them. Do you really care? Oh, you do? FIGHT YOU! I like writing the Brotherhood. And I will try to, every chance I get. Useless as it may be. Got that? PUNK?
[4] – As it turns out…Tabitha's a bitch too. :D See, this is one of those things where even though you love the fun and over-the-top characters like her, you KNOW you'd go insane if your friends were anything like them. I love Tabitha for the rude, smutty, loud kleptomaniac she is. And if she were real, I'd be friends with her. Just not CLOSE friends – not the close ones where she knows where you live and raids your fridge and closet any time she wants. If I were Lance and loved that Jeep as much as he does, I would've made her come to fear the words "Lance" and "rock". Damn straight!
A/N: Doggone it! I can't believe I didn't finish the Power Surge episode in one chapter. I just felt it was dragging too much, and it would feel better as a two-part thing. Besides – most of my chapters take the course of one day anyways, so might as well split this episode up into the two days it took place over. You know what I just realized? If anybody's seen King of the Hill before – they know the son, right? He's blonde and his name's Bobby. And then he dates his neighbor, this Chinese girl whose name I can't remember at the moment. And I'm just imagining them as Bobby and Jubilee and – tee hee. It's making me snort and giggle childishly.
Next chapter? I'd rather keep it a surprise, luffs. :3 Of course, you know already what's going to happen with Jean and all that, but I do have some tricks of my own up my sleeve.
Dudes, I don't know if you can tell, but as much as I love this chapter in all its hints of new recruit couple-yness and poor abused cute Scott hurtin' and lovin', I used to have a serious irk with Jean in this episode. I mean honestly. I HATED Jean when I saw the first season. I didn't care that she was perfect, I just hated her 'cuz she totally used Scott in a mean mean way and manipulated both Duncan and Scott. How could I like her when they made Scott so nerdy and loveable in Evo? And then I saw this episode, 'Power Surge', and was like, "Jean is a SUPER meanie-pants! Make up your frickin' mind, woman! Do you like Duncan, or do you like Scott? Do you hate both? You can only have one or the other, lady!" Then I saw the end of the episode and was like: "…Oh."
For some of you, having read this chapter, including that whole section dedicated to Jean characterization, has made you like her a little more. For others, you probably just hate her more. I did emphasize the manipulative and sneaky aspects of her personality a bit, I admit. But the exaggeration was there for a purpose. After Power Surge, it hit me like a ton of bricks, but without the ouchies: Jean is kind of cool in Evo. I mean, yeah, she uses Scott, who is cute and awkward and doesn't deserve being used like that, and Duncan, who probably does deserve it but is loveable anyways in a dopey kind of way, but she does it for the fun of it. Her intention isn't to hurt Scott or Duncan; she's just a big ol' tease.
My conclusion: You know how Amara acts like Tabitha sometimes, but then acts like a Jean clone at other times too, depending on who she's with at the time? So you think she's got a bit of Tabitha in her along with a bit of Jean in her?
Jean IS like Tabitha, but restrained. Jean is everything Tabitha would've been if she had a bit more ordinary childhood; Tabitha is everything Jean would've been if she hadn't met the Professor or Scott or other people like that in her life.
Seriously. Think about it.
(I have no idea where I went with that rant, but just go with me, please. This fandom is slowly dying in favor of Teen Titans and I'm trying to keep it interesting.)