Argh, why did he let Warren win that little verbal battle? Beer. Slurred words. That's right, he won because Jono was a bit drunk... a 'bit' drunk is putting it nicely, though, he's more like slammed. Ever since his ability to eat, drink, speak, and give head came back, Jono has been hitting the hops quite a lot, especially since returning to Xavier's. Logan kept a good stock in the faculty's refrigerator, and well, he didn't seem to mind a six-pack or ten missing every other day. What would he do? Make Jono shave his back again? It wasn't too bad the first time, he's pretty sure he could handle it again. The beer is certainly worth the disgusting ritual. And hell, its worth seeing a nude Wolverine, too. Jubilee was right- he is pretty impressive for such a stocky, hairy, Canadian beer guzzling old man. He probably has better luck than Warren keeping erect.

That's still making him giggle. Mighty Warren Worthington the Third, a limp biscuit. It was kind of sexy, rethinking it all. He wasn't badly hung, pretty good size, too. Must be the wings.

There are some dog hairs on his bed, he notices before sitting down. Rahne's dog hairs, her hairs. She likes to come over late at night with some hard liquor in her mouth, literally. Wolfsbane, for that is her X-Men name, likes to go to the local super mart and steal bottles of liquor. Except its not considered stealing to Jono, since she'll go back the next day and over pay for an item. She's a good girl at heart, and a good friend, but secretly? She thinks he's gay, and he may very well be for all he knows. Rahne doesn't know Jono knows she thinks this, but he does. He's not daft, he knows where she goes after a hang over. Back to the store, pay for what she stole. Its that Xavier influence, everyone here suffers from it.

He suffers from it. Even though he loves knocking into Warren, he wants to apologize sometimes. He doesn't mean it, usually, he's just extremely jealous. Paige was his, and now, she isn't. Any man to lose her lost something good, and he knows how well Warren has it with her, because he had it at one point, too. And damn did he have it good. That pop star he dated? Sugar Kane? She couldn't hold a flame to Paige.

She probably couldn't hold a flame to anyone, but that's old news. Really old news, and he'd like to forget about her, but so far, its not possible. Tabloids still print news that she's having his love child. Or, she's having some aliens love child, but manage to slip his name in anyways. It's boring and unimaginative, and it dulls him. Will they ever stop?

"For Chris sakes!" Jono exclaims, as he notices Rahne may of left a treat for him under the bed. No, not poop, just a bunch of empty bottles; even in wolf form, Rahne does use a toilet. He picks up the empty bottles, which reek like old men, and dispose of them in the trash bin outside in the hall. Let someone assume they belong to whoever rooms next door. He thinks it may be Bobby, but he doesn't know, or care, because its not like they interact. Often, or ever.

Xavier's is only temporary.

Paige is sitting across from Angel, in some hotel she's never seen before. He borrowed an X-Jet, and well, that was about six, maybe seven, hours ago. She hasn't seen the skyline, or the sun, assuming where they are there is a sun. He could of taken her to some Antarctic Hotel and had it unseasonably heated. Paige wants to ask where they are, but can not. He doesn't look at her, just... at the wall.

He's staring at a spot, thinking about what Jono said, 'do you need some Viagra'. Did he? Was he really getting older? And, for that matter, what did the little ass mean by 'you think she's yours, you do...' Paige was his, is his, will always be his. He slept with her every night, they had amazing conversations. Well, when she wasn't trying to show off when Jono was around. Maybe she wasn't his; maybe... maybe she stilled loved Jonothan.

"FUCK PAIGE!" He bursts out, startling her. "Do you still love Jonothan?" He gets up, not wanting to hear her answer, but yet, he does. He storms into the bathroom, naked, and lifts the toilet seat lid. Pissing the alcohol he's consumed out of his body, he hears Paige get up from the bed. Silence follows, and he shakes his cock of any last droplets, when he senses Paige in the doorway. To humor her, he flushes, and washes his hands.

"No." she says, and walks to where she'd tossed her clothes last night. "No, Warren, I don't love him. I love you." Paige is ready to go home. Warren just killed the mood. Again.