Ororo sighed to herself as she entered her greenhouse – a tiny sanctuary from the everyday chaos that prevailed within the Institute. Ever since the attack from Megabyte, she'd been on edge, and this was the first time she'd been able to retreat to her private area to rejuvenate her tired spirits. Reaching down to a table near the entrance, she retrieved a few sticks of incense and carried them to the center of the room. Meditation wasn't an accurate word for what she did here, but it was close; she surrounded herself in the beauty of nature, cut off from the noise of the world outside. Between the beauty of her beloved plants, the scent of her incense, and the soft sound of running water, occasionally overlaid by music, she found a sense of peace here she couldn't find anywhere else.
Carefully, she arranged the incense sticks around a decorative fountain she'd installed and lit each of them in turn. Standing back, she felt something missing. Yes, she thought, her gaze settling on a miniature CD player. A little music to set the mood...
Shortly, the sounds of string instruments filled the air from a classical music compilation, completing Ororo's sense of calm. One by one, she began to tend to her plants, occasionally pausing to sway softly to the music or inhale the aroma of her incense. She soon felt relaxed, at peace with the world, calm.
And unusually energetic at the same time. Often, the peace granted by the greenhouse made her slightly drowsy, something she'd expected today, after winding down from the stress of recent events. Instead, she felt unspent energy bubbling up inside of her. Without knowing why, she giggled softly to herself as she approached a rosebush.
She felt good; she didn't know why; and that lack of knowledge, for once, didn't faze her at all.
Inside, Hank and Logan were in the video surveillance room. Their excuse to the others was that they needed to see if Megabyte had done any serious damage to the system; that, of course, wasn't the case. Ororo had never really paid attention to the security camera she'd allowed the others to install in her greenhouse, and she certainly wasn't now. Hank and Logan, of course, knew exactly why she wasn't paying attention to the cameras. Or to anything, for that matter, except for her beloved plants.
Hank, holding a beer donated to him by Logan, stirred in his seat. "Kudos, my friend," he said companionably to the shorter, burlier Canadian. "thinking to treat her incense like that... a master stroke of genius."
Logan grinned. "Ya didn't do so bad yerself, Poindexter," he retorted. "You got hold of the plant, and you were the one knew how ta mix it up with the incense." Hank merely smiled and returned his attention to the video screen.
As they watched, faint smoke from the incense sticks swirled in the air, visible in the extra-sensitive view of the security monitors. Also visible was Ororo as she leaned over the rosebush, explaining why it shouldn't leave its husband without finding out for certain if he was cheating on her.
Cannabis is useful in the treatment of some medical problems. When used on someone without a medical problem, however, it can have surprising effects.
"You realise that this will not help our problem in the long run?" asked Hank eventually. "Here and now, it's improved her mood admirably, but once it wears off..."
"...we can't tell anyone," Logan finished for him. "I know that. Still, like ya said, we gotta start somewhere..." Hank nodded in agreement, and Logan raised his beer in a toast. "Here's ta being immature, Poindexter."
Hank tapped his bottle lightly against Logan's. "As we grow older, may we grow more childish with each passing day," he agreed warmly.
Taking a pull from their respective drinks, the two friends settled in to watch the show.
In another part of the mansion, Amara sat on the couch in the Rec room, legs curled up underneath her. Aside from her presence, the room was entirely empty, the lamp by the end of the couch casting its glow over the room, combining with the sunlight pouring in the open windows to light the room fairly well. Easily well enough, for a change, to prevent a certain blue mutant from vanishing into the shadows as he entered the room. Amara's eyes flickered up as he walked in, and a faint smile accompanied her nod of greeting before she returned her attention to her book.
Kurt crossed the room and took a seat in the armchair next to the couch. "Hello, princess," he greeted the Nova Roman. Amara smiled again and closed her book.
"Peasant," she returned the greeting. The title and lack thereof had become something of a game between them, and now the easy air between them settled into place. Amara sat up. "How are you feeling?" she asked softly.
Kurt blew out a lungful of air. "I have been better," he admitted. "Things... have become very complicated recently..."
Amara nodded. "I know," she replied. "I can see it. We all can. You're so tense."
A wave of Kurt's hand dismissed her concerns. "Give me time, Amy. I will, as you say, bounce back from this. This is... difficult, ja... but nothing I cannot deal with."
Amara shrugged faintly. "If you say so." She rose from the couch and crossed to the window, looking outside into the world. A moment later, she sensed rather than saw Kurt's presence beside her.
"Actually..." his voice was more quiet than usual. "...there was something I wished to discuss with you."
Amara cleared her throat. "What?"
A pause. "I am terrible with these American sayings, but I think the correct one is that... with all of this business with the Brotherhood taking me the other night, I have 'stood you up', ja?"
Part of Amara's brain had stopped working. By concentrating, she was able to answer. "Yes, I... I suppose so"
"Sehr gut." Kurt shook his head. "No, I mean, it is not good, but it -" he broke off, chuckling at himself. "Shall we move on? What I was going to say was that I now am obliged to make it up to you, ja?"
Amara swallowed. "What did you have in mind? If you are offering, I am free tonight..."
Kurt shook his head, smiling faintly. "Ja, but I was perhaps thinking of something more relevant to this moment." Amara turned slowly to face him, a faint smile visible on his indigo features. "Princess," he said softly.
"Peasant," came the equally soft reply.
Kurt was almost a full head taller than Amara. Because of this, he had to bend slightly as he kissed her gently on the lips. Neither of them cared.
A breeze came in the window, blowing both of their shoulder-length hair around their faces. They barely noticed, remaining in the same pose for some time, seemingly oblivious to the world around them. In particular, the small group of people standing at the door.
Kitty pumped her fist, grinning in victory. "Yes!" she hissed to the others. "It's not even six o' clock yet! I win the money pool!"
Scott, Jean, Rogue and Evan rolled their eyes in perfect unison before Scott began shepherding them away from the door.
By the window, Kurt and Amara broke away from their embrace. "Are they gone yet?" Amara whispered. Kurt listened attentively.
"Ja, they are."
"Good."
With that, they resumed their previous embrace, the cares of the world dropping away around them. Standing there, his girl in his arms, Kurt felt peace fill him, making him content.
The hell with running from your past. And the hell with hiding from your future.
This was real. This was now. This was living.
And that was all that really mattered.
Halfway across the country, a nameless orderly pushed his broom down an otherwise empty hallway, cleaning the white tiled floor. At equal twenty-meter intervals, doors branched off the hallway into identical small rooms.
Rooms, cells, same thing.
The orderly continued sweeping, approaching the end of the hall. The final door was, unlike most of the others, heavily barred, with a small glass observation window set into it at eye level. As the orderly passed, he almost stepped back in shock as he saw a furiously grimacing face pressed up to the glass. A few inches below the window, a simple engraved plate read 'Room 105. Kayle, S.'
"Hey! Hey, you!" a muffled voice came through the heavy door – a young voice, the orderly thought. Some teenage kid, maybe. He didn't answer, it was part of his job to ignore these people, but the kid kept yelling at him. "Let me out of here! Let me out right now!"
The orderly kept sweeping. The voice became furious. "HEY! I'M TALKING TO YOU! LET ME OUT OF HERE, OR I'LL BURN YOU! YOU HEAR ME? I'LL BURN YOU DEAD!!" The orderly shook his head and continued ignoring the kid. His voice fell, becoming secretive, cunning.
"I can make it worth your while, you know. I'm Megabyte. Know what that means? I can get you anything you want. Anything, anything, anything..."
The kid's voice broke off in incoherent babbling and sobs. Finished with this end of the hall, the orderly tucked his broom under one arm and picked up the dustpan with his free hand. As he walked away, his footsteps rang clearly off the tiles, echoing throughout the corridors. It was the only sound that could be heard, once the wild babbling from inside room 105 had faded away.
It was the only sound – but there was no-one else in the corridors to hear it.
The orderly shook his head again as he walked away. Even after all these years, the nut jobs still had the knack of spooking him. After a moment, he reached a small janitor's closet. Exchanging his broom for a mop and bucket, he resumed his task of cleaning the darkened hallways of the insane asylum.
Outside, it began to rain. As Simon Kayle slumped against the wall of his room, staring out the window, lightning flashed. A criss-cross pattern of shadow fell across his face, briefly illuminated by the fork of lightning, broken by the bars across his window.
The great Megabyte had lost his war.
Simon Kayle buried his head in his hands as the rain increased its pace.
THE END.
