Neva: Thanks! Xavier is the hardest to write at the moment, I'm glad you like him in the story. I am trying to stay as true as I can to not only Stan Lee, but the things that were hinted at by other writers.
zcjm72: Thank you! I'm not sure how far I'm going to take this story, but I'd like to write up to the point Hank joins the team.
Sue Penkivech: Thanks for the reviews! I always got the impression the Professor was always harder on Bobby than the others. At this point Warren doesn't really understand what a jerk he's being.
The day had began normal enough, as normal as you could expect at this place. After waking up, I had taken a brief flight over the school grounds. It had become a daily ritual for me to greet day with the wind in my face. It just refreshed me, making me feel alive. I would need it today. Professor Xavier would be gone most of the day, leaving us alone. He had put Scott in charge, to make sure we did what we were suppose to do.
Peeking out the door I could see Bobby huffing as he rushed off to the shower. "Having fun with the ponies?" I asked with false sweetness. The sight of him sweating, covered in horse dung was too good to pass up. His glare was as icy as his namesake.
"You should be the one forced to do this crap!" He spat.
"Nice phrase Drake, really suits your situation." I replied smugly, circling him as I did so. It was my tried and true method of imitation. First I talk confidently, then I stroll around the other. At this point most feel uncomfortable with my closeness and start looking at the carpet. I was pleased to see Bobby tense visibly but he refuse to take his eyes off me.
"It's your fault." He said steadily.
"Let me give you a piece of advice kid," I said advancing on him sightly, "Chose your battles more carefully in the future. Worthingtons always come out on top." Bobby chose to shut up for once settled for a grimace instead. "We don't put up with crap." I called over my shoulder as I descended the stair for breakfast. I might have imaged it but I could of sworn I heard him say under his breath: "Neither do I."
We all had to work on school work after lunch. I breezed through most of my work until I came to my old arch-nemesis: Advance Algebra. I actually shuddered when I reached for my textbook. Not only was it dull, it was difficult. Especially since I hadn't studied in ages. Math was always my worse subject, which made matters worse for me. I was suppose to take over the family business someday, which meant I needed what I loathed most. I stared blankly at the same problem for eleven minutes until Scott caught my attention.
"Hey, Bobby!" The lanky boy hissed to his friend.
"Yeah?"
"How do you get the answer for number seven?"
"Here," Bobby ripped out a sheet of notebook paper, "what did you get?" What the hell was going on? Why was Scott asking a kid two and a half years younger than him for help? I watched them work together for awhile, listening to Bobby teach. His whole face lit up when he went into explaining the complex problem. His eye shone with a joy I had not seen grace his face before. It was remarkable what a difference a true grin brought about him. No longer did he seem to be a plain average looking kid. I could already see how it would play out if the three of us in a crowd in a party. I had no doubt--as much as it pains me to say--that he would be the one to attract the most attention. That is, if he learned how to play off the winning combo of, looks, wit, and charm. And I sure wasn't going to tell him how!
After another hour of the horrible class I met up with Scott. "What was that about? Asking the runt for help, I mean he's two years younger than us."
"He's a really bright kid." He turned sharply at my 'hmm'. "He IS. He's only a year behind us in school, and the Professor is considering letting him skip to our grade." That WAS a shocker. I always thought the popsicle to be the one who needed help. You know, like an avenge kid. I acted indifferent at the new information, not wanting to admit how impressed I was.
Shrugging I got my stuff together to take a shower. The Professor was due back in hour or so. He mentioned bringing a guest with him, and I wanted to clean myself up first. My mother had made it a habit for me to "tidy up to make an appearance" when I was younger. I wasn't likely to break the habit any time soon.
On my way up I watched Bobby hurry to his room, smiling broadly as he did so. I should have been suspicious but I didn't give it much thought. First thing's first though, I needed a shower.
__________________________
No...I had to be seeing things...take deep breaths...
Slowly, very slowly I open my eyes and looked at myself in the mirror.
I blinked.
It's still there.
With a great battle cry I launch myself out of the bathroom.
He had gone to far--he would pay--oh yes he would!
I don't bother with the stairs, I glide down instead spewing profanities along the way. I halted abruptly, wanting to savor this moment forever. Then I pounce into the kitchen where my team mates were sitting down eating some snacks. Mouth agape Scott can only stare, words seem to have failed him. Still chewing his food Bobby doesn't seem to of realized my presence. When he does he gives me a lopsided grin.
"Well hello Warren...feelin' a little blue?" Scott seems to have recovered. When he hastily covers his mouth as a muffled noise that sounds suspicious like laughter escapes.
"YOU--,"I raise a shaking finger at the frozen twerp, who smiled back at me almost defiantly.
"Uh huh."
"You put blue dye into my shampoo!" I roared. Not only was my hair blue, but the dye had run in rivets down my wings as well.
"Well ya know, it really is your color." I was ready to wipe that smug look off that face. I would have to, if Scott didn't butt in again.
"Enough, come on we don't need this--"
"He started it!" I winced at my own winy tone.
"Well I'm finishing it! Now sit down and eat Warren!" Huh...who would have thought Scott Summers had a backbone. "Seeing how your done eating..."
"I know, I know. 'Do your chores, feed the horses.' " Bobby mimicked Scotts' voice perfectly. "I get the message. I'll see you at later, Slim." At first I thought he was mocking me, until Scott nods back.
"What?" 'Slim' Summers asked as I raise an eyebrow.
"Slim?" I inquire.
"It's his nickname for me, okay?" Scott said sounding exasperated.
"And you're okay with him calling you that?"
"Yes, I am. He doesn't mean anything by it. He forgot my name once and blurted it out. I have no problem with it."
"Oh come on, doesn't he annoy you a bit? I see him always hanging around you, doesn't it get to you?"
"Nope. I like Bobby, he's a good kid. A bit...excited, maybe." He said collecting the dishes.
"A bit? Please, you're saying this kind of thing doesn't get to you?!" I motioned towards my hair and wings.
"He never played pranks til you came, Warren," he shrugged, "besides I barely noticed the difference." He silently added as an afterthought.
"You--"
"I'm color blind, Warren. I can only tell that your hair and wings are darker in certain areas." Scott explained in a rush.
"Oh." Is my witty retort.
"Look, just lay off Bobby okay?"
"You're saying it's my fault?!"
"Try to make an effort alright? I'll speak to him later." Scott called back to me over his shoulder.
I grumbled in response, as I head to the showers to wash out the dye. After seven failed attempts I gave up to dress. Not wanting to take chances with the guest, I got out my harness. I really hated it, it was like wearing a straight jacket. Not to mention it took ages to put on by myself. I never had anyone help me with it before and I didn't want to start. After the struggle was won I slipped into my latest threads. I gave a winning grin to my reflection, even the blue hair couldn't mess with success. Finally I took out my fine leather shoes. I had slipped them on only to find a nasty surprise that had been waiting me. Stepping out of them I could clearly see (and smell) the horse dung.
"BOBBY!!!"
What ensured was the first annual "chase Bobby around the mansion." This would later become a common sight at of school, as his latest victims would go after the prankster. Luckily they never learned I was the one responsible for inspiring this side of him.
Bobby was still cackling madly when I tackled in the main hall. I was already plotting dropping him off on the roof, when the front door swung open. There sat Professor Xavier with a dark haired man holding onto the handles of his wheelchair. An eerie silence seemed to fill the entire mansion as they took in our appearance. Me, blue hair ruffled, panting, gripping the ankles of a fellow student. Bobby, face flushed, body pressed against the floor. And finally the floor it's self, with my footprints smeared onto the polished wood.
"Oh, hi Agent Duncan. Didn't see you there."Bobbys' muffled voice chimed in, ending the awkwardness slightly. Coming to his senses the dark-haired man grinned back at the kid.
"I guess you won't." I chose this time to release my team mate, I had to retain some dignity if I could. "Ah, you must be Warren Worthington the third." The man stated, eyeing my dyed hair with obvious amusement. Ignoring this I greeted him and the Professor as pleasantly as I could. Duncan greeted Slim and helped Bobby to his feet. Though Duncan spoke in hushed tones I could still make out his words.
"I assume you are responsible for Mr. Worthingtons' new make over."
"Who me? What ever gave you that idea? ......So do you like it?" My teeth grinded together as the twerp grinned proudly at my hair.
"It's very fashionable," Duncan says, "though I would of gone with neon pink."
"Nah, that would have been too cruel...beside I ran out awhile back on my cousin Joel."
A/N: It was never actually stated, but it was implied that Bobby was in the same grade as the others. In UXM #7 the team graduated and Bobby complains that his diploma was blank. It was said that it was actually a prop for the picture, but Xavier said that he did complete his schooling. So that's my little fangirl moment.
Next chapter: Agent Duncan trains the boys, Bobby gets in over his head, Warren spies, Scott wonders why he was cursed with such team mates, and Xavier gets mortified.