(***Author's Notes: This is kind of another of those "Point B" parts, but I think I did better than the last one. I just wish Gabby would shut up sometimes. That ever happen to ya? You get a character on paper and suddenly they start developing a life of their own? Like I had no idea Angie would be such a b***h. And this one character that I've only mentioned thus far...He just walked right up to me and started telling me all these stories about Mort's childhood (really sweet/sad/awful/sha-cute stuff, too). Speakin' of the name Mort [which I've come to love, btw], has anyone else thought of playing around with the Latin implications of it? Seems odd, intriguing, and sexy...

Thanks to everyone who's reviewed. Y'all're so sweet! Someone called it "well-thought out" and "well-written." *blush* I can't think of higher praise than that, when writing is concerned [unless maybe it was Neil Gaiman saying it g] I'm glad y'all liked the angst. I'll try not to overdo it. And in defense of herbal tea: peppermint and camomile tea combined with a scalp massage will send anyone off to dream-land. Or at least relax them a lot. ^_^

As always, Toad and X-men (c) Marvel. Don't sue me, you won't get a thing worth value. Except my Lothlorien brooch, and I'll fight tooth and nail for it!

Oh, one last comment. I actually did Toad's little stretching routine while writing it to make sure it made sense. If you can, I suggest doing it. It feels gooooooood...... /endinsanelylongAuthor'sNotes)

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"Good morning!"

Gabby walked in that morning to find Toad on the floor, stretching. He looked like a gymnast warming up for a routine. Gabby's eyebrows rose as she watching him tuck a foot behind his ear with a soft groan. "Man..." she whistled, impressed. "You are flexible!"

Toad extended a hand under his leg and tensed the muscles in his back and shoulder. He reared back and stretched his other hand as far behind him as it would go, reaching, then curled his fingers in a fist, brought his arm around his head and curled into a tight ball. He tensed again, holding the position for a few seconds, then relaxed and sprawled back with a satisfied noise.

"Mm-hmm," he purred as he began rolling his neck and shoulders, working the kinks out.

"Hope you're not sore from sleeping on the couch."

"Nah." He grunting, stretching his arms up and behind his back before letting them swing loose. "Jus' stiff. Haven't moved much in the past few days. Not normal." He cut himself off. What was normal about him? Gabby didn't notice.

"So, y'feelin' better?"

"Sure, luv. Could have a run around the block right now." He twisted his back around, going through his morning ritual. Gabby raised an eyebrow, and he smirked apologetically. "Or at least a vigorous walk across the room." She grinned at him.

"You heal quick." He shook his head.

"Nah, just burns and things like that." He didn't feel like talking about it. Back arches now. Gabby looked on with interest. Hmm...very flexible....cute--gah! She blinked and shook her head. Toad extended a leg and slowly stretched it out behind him, his long fingers curving around his ankle, then finished up by sliding quickly into a full split. Gabby caught her breath in sympathy.

"Boy, keep that up and you are /never/ having children." He cocked his head and looked at her curiously for a moment, then flicked out his tongue and grabbed the mug from the table when he had left it last night. She made a startled sound. He caught the cup expertly and turned back to her with a sardonic expression.

"I'd think that would be something of a moot point, luv," he said with somewhat bitter humor. Gabby blinked and her brow furrowed as she tilted her head to study him, looking a bit nervous. Toad crouched and started stretching his arms again, slightly uncomfortable with her gaze on him. When he turned back, he found her only a few inches away. Startled, he fell over on his backside. Oh, bloody hell. I'm still off...he thought. Normally being surprised like that would have had him on the ceiling, ready for a fight.

"I still wanna have a look at those burns, hun," Gabby said. Toad stared at her, confused. She raised an eyebrow and gestured. "The shirt. Off." Toad blinked, feeling that his eyes couldn't get much wider. "Take your shirt off," she repeated slowly, as if to a child. "The worse of the burns were on your back." Still eyeing her, he slowly raised the borrowed t-shirt. Exasperated, Gabby snatched it off and threw it on the couch, then turned him around to get a good look at his back.

"Well," she said, surprised. Toad's burn marks, while still visible, weren't dry and stiff, but soft and pliant. Underneath the burns what looked like faded scars could be seen. She gently touched his back and heard him hiss. "I'm sorry. Does that hurt?"

"N'much. Stings a bit." She nodded and moved around to his chest, pushing him upright so she could see better. Toad's eyes darted toward a wall; having a girl right in front of him while he was shirtless was unnerving. Her hand was warm against the cool skin of his bare shoulder.

Gabby studied his body, noting both the blotchy green tinge to his otherwise smooth skin and his slim, athletic build. It was easy to see he took care of himself. What's that Zoey would say? she thought, grinning. 'You could iron a shirt on those abs' or something like that...

Toad, catching the grin, felt heat flow up his cheeks. What th' hell's she smiling at? Cor...this is bloody embarrassing...hey! Gabby had begun rubbing aloe onto his stomach. He doubled over protectively, catching her hand. Gabby eeped in surprise.

"Whoa! Chill! Sorry." Toad released her and slowly uncurled, eyeing her mistrustfully.

"I don' need any o' that stuff," he said flatly. Gabby raised an eyebrow and her grin turned mischievous as it dawned on her.

"Are you ticklish, Todd?"

"No!" A dark green flooded his cheeks and she chuckled.

"You're blushing!"

He glared at her, his eyes glinting gold, a dangerous smirk on his face and her smile vanished. That was better.

"I am not blushing and I am not ticklish," he said in a soft, menacing voice. Gabby raised her hands placatingly, her eyes wide. "I just don't need any aloe, so leave off, 'kay?"

"All right, all right." Gabby stood up and threw his shirt at him. Turning, she frowned at him. "How'd you heal so fast?" He gave her a withering look.

"Mutant," he said as if it were obvious, spreading his hands and gesturing at himself. Gabby glared.

"So, green skin, long tongue...what's that got to do with healing? Or do you all heal quick?" He shrugged his shirt on, not responding. She stood there, arms crossed, still expecting an answer. He sighed and reached out his hand without looking directly at her.

"Lemme see y'hand," he said, not really wanting to. Dubiously she held out her left one. He brushed the back of it with his fingertips, excreting a very small amount of slime as he did so. Gabby gasped softly as her hand tingled and went numb. As she rubbed it nervously he turned his back to her, pretending to adjust his shirt. "Numbs stuff up," he said needlessly. "Moisturizes, too, I guess," he added in a more cheerful tone.

"I can see that..." said Gabby faintly, still trying to massage life back into her paralyzed hand. "This is temporary, right?"

"Nah, 'fraid it'll be like that f'th' rest of y'life. Doesn't wear off." He grinned at her maliciously. She paled visibly and he had to chuckle. "Jus' takin' a piss atcha, luv." She grinned ruefully at him and shook her head.

"Stupid limey."

"Bloody yank."

Their eyes met and they both laughed. Gabby sat down next to him, pushing her wayward hair out of her face as they chortled. Toad rubbed his eyes, feeling his face split by a huge grin. When was the last time he had laughed like this? Not at someone's expense or at the stupidity of the world, just because something was simply funny. He couldn't remember; probably back with Brother Sensei. It felt good.

"Ah..." Gabby suddenly stood up, still grinning. "Breakfast."

"Sounds good!" Toad sprang up and the room around him spun nauseatingly. He staggered and Gabby put out a hand to catch him. He stood still while things slowly stabilized. When he could finally open his eyes again, he saw her gazing up at him, concern in her brown eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut; he wasn't used to seeing that, to seeing anyone caring, and it unnerved him as much as her touch earlier. " 'M fine," he muttered, trying to shake her hands off.

Yeah, you are, thought Gabby wryly, but instead she just helped him back on the couch.

"What happened to you?" she asked, quietly. He shook his head and heard her sigh. None o' her bloody business, he thought angrily, but he couldn't put any venom in it. The water-off-a-duck's-back feeling from the night before was starting to fade, and the oddness of the whole situation came back to him.

"Huh?"

"I said how do you like your eggs?"

"Oh." Toad shrugged. "However. Scrambled, I guess." She was making him breakfast. No one had made him breakfast since he'd left the orphanage. Hell, she had been touching him. Touching...he'd never been touched by a girl, except for when he and Mystique had sparred or when he'd been slapped by random women, and somehow, he didn't think those counted. He lowered his head and passed his hands through his hair. Hmm...he put a hand in front of his eyes and studied it. Nope, still green. Experimentally, he stuck his tongue out and touched the tip of his nose. Then his ear. Same as ever. He rubbed his arm absently. This didn't make sense. She was a normal, a flatline...just another human, right? He knew what humans were like. Every day for fifteen years, insults ringing in his ears: "Hey Froggie!" "Go back to France, Froggie!" "Ribbit ribbit!" "Eeew..." "Hey Kermit!" "What happened to you? Your mother screw a toad?" "Aww, I bet you were such a cute little tadpole." Toad. That was his name. The woman who'd tried to drown him (Mother! His throat still caught when he thought it) had left him with the name Toynbee. Mortimer...he somehow thought it must have been his father who named him. He just couldn't see the hysterical woman who haunted his nightmares taking time to name the hideous thing her womb had produced. And now...Todd. But no name changed the fact that he was a toad, that he was Toad. Which made what was happening now even more implausible.

A plate clinked on the table in front of him and he raised his head to see Gabby's smiling face. She sat down beside him and handed him a glass of orange juice. For now, Toad decided, it didn't matter. It was nice to see someone care again.

"By the way, hon," Gabby said suddenly, her fork halfway to her mouth. "If you call me a yank again, I will be forced, in the name of the South, to liberally coat that tongue of yours in tabasco sauce."

"Eh?"

" 'M Cajun," she explained around a mouthful of egg. "We Southerners don't take well to being called Yanks." She grinned, and he chuckled.

"I'll keep that in mind next time I feel like pissin' ya off..." Toad stopped, realizing that saying so implied a next time, and next times weren't things he was used to when dealing with most people. Gabby just stuck her tongue out at him with an unamused expression. Toad grinned wider, and used his to grab the toast off of his plate.

"That's ...really...interesting," said Gabby faintly, her eyes wide. Her voice suggested that several other words could be substituted for "interesting." He shrugged and went back to his food.

They ate in silence, and while neither of them mentioned it, Toad's thoughts drifted back to last night. Her coming in and soothing his nightmares away. Her fingers playing with his hair (it tickled!). He stole a glance at her. She was okay, kinda pretty, in a cute way, not really sexy or anything. He shook his head and tortured the eggs on his plate. What the bloody hell was he thinking?! The eggs didn't answer. So she was nice to him because she'd had a mutant friend and felt a calling to heal to world or some shyte. That didn't mean she would ever actually like him. No one liked him, not even his fellow mutants in the Brotherhood. Who could like a slimy, disgusting, irritating-- He broke off seeing her looking at him musingly.

"What?" Maybe he had egg on his face. He rubbed the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.

"You look like you're thinking hard." He didn't respond. "Well, breakfast is no place for deep thoughts," she announced, picking up her plate and carrying it to the sink. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get ready for class. Feel free to wander around, so long as your wandering doesn't bring you into the bathroom." She grinned wryly.

When she had gone, Toad stood up --slowly-- and brought his plate to the kitchen. Used to being the one on clean-up duty back with the Brotherhood, he washed it and the remaining dishes in the sink. Then he went back into the main area and looked around. His eyes fell on the stack of paintings and art supplies. A sketchbook lay open on the ground. He picked it up and leafed through it. A landscape from central park, quick sketches of people, a study of who he recognized as Michael. Flip. Flip. Flip. Concept sketches, character designs, illustrations, a picture of someone sleeping in a lecture hall. Toad smirked and put down the sketchbook. The canvases called him next. He gently moved aside the half-finished one. A self-portrait, a smaller picture of Angie and Zoey, the Statue of Liberty done at an interesting angle --he moved that one aside quickly. More than enough of that!-- and in the way back, a green-skinned man smirking and holding an upset looking pink frog, both wearing crowns.

"We had do a different twist on a fairy tale," came Gabby's voice from behind him. She leaned over, squinting appraisingly at the piece. "I did the Frog Prince. I never liked the way the old tale came out."

"I always liked it," mumbled Toad, putting the paintings back. Gabby snorted.

"Yeah, frog helps princess, princess snubs frog then throws him against a wall and he turns into a prince and they get married, despite what an absolute brat the princess was, and we're expected to believe they lived happily ever after."

"Frogs can be desperate," Toad suggested wryly. Hadn't it been a kiss? He liked the kiss story much better.

"Not that desperate, I'd hope."

"You did these?" Toad asked, changing the subject. Gabby grinned sheepishly and shrugged.

"Yeah. 'M a junior this year. Was supposed to be a veterinarian, like m'dad, but I dropped outta that after a semester and switched to an Art major. Kinda a blow to dad."

"I like art," Toad muttered. Something propped up against the wall caught his eye: a long, thick stick. He touched it, wondering if it was what he thought it was. "What's this?"

"Oh." Gabby chuckled embarrassedly and ducked her head, even more nervous now. "That's my bo. I took karate back home. Don't have the time to keep up with it, but I kept all my old weapons and I train when I get the chance. I'm not very good," she confided. Toad smirked and picked up the bo, testing its weight.

"How not good? What rank did you make it too?"

"Mmph...rank doesn't matter." She opened a drawer and Toad could see a set of kama and a dark belt amid the junk. "Bo's one of my favorite weapons--it's practical, easy to find, and you can hit people from a distance, but these..." After rummaging around, she pulled out a pair of glittering sai. "These are my babies," she said with a fond smirk. She handed one to Toad and he held it with the blade flat against his arm."

"Yeah, these are allus fun," he grinned, jabbing at the air with the pommel, then twirling the weapon around and preforming an inverted strike with the blades. He spun it back to the resting position. "Y'got small arms," he commented, noticing that the blade was a few inches short of the crock of his elbow. Gabby bristled playfully and took it back.

"Maybe yours are just really long," she retorted, returning the weapons to their drawer. "Where'd you learn to play with sai?" Toad shrugged.

"M'Sensei back at the St. Augustine's," he said uncomfortably. He didn't like talking about it. Magneto had never cared about where his followers had picked up their fighting styles, only that they could fight. And kill. Toad sighed and tried to push Brother Sensei's face from his mind, disappointed but compassionate...Leave m'lone, he thought angrily. The monk just smiled sadly at him. Gabby didn't press him.

"I wrote my cell-phone number on the fridge and Mike's next to that in case you need anything." Gabby hefted a large portfolio and opened the door. Toad shook himself from his thoughts. "Make yourself at home. I'll be back about three. Bye!" She blew him a playful kiss.

"Bye..."



After she left, Toad went to the kitchen and got himself a beer. Now that she was gone, he realized, he'd be all alone with his thoughts for the first time in almost three days. The idea didn't appeal to him much. A part of him was afraid that as soon as he really thought about what was happening, instead of just taking things as they came, everything good would fall apart. He cocked his head. Of course, that meant that there was something good to be afraid of losing. He realized with a pang that there was. He was actually enjoying himself here, albeit he still couldn't move much and Gabby still lived up to her nickname. That made him feel like a traitor to the Brotherhood. Then he remembered: there was no Brotherhood anymore. He flicked the beer cap off with his tongue and took a long drink. No more Brotherhood. No more baiting Sabertooth. No more Magneto there to inspire love and awe. No more hope of a better tomorrow for mutant kind. No more Mystique doing...whatever the hell it was she did. Hm...looking real nice and adding that feminine touch to the lair, he guessed. She hadn't stayed around the place as much as he and Sabertooth had--her mutation allowed her to go out on more missions that involved human contact. He'd always just been the driver, at most. That was another thing. No more missions. Toad groaned and stretched out on the couch, taking another swig of beer. It tasted like piss. No missions? Might as well add "no purpose in life" to the list as well, he thought bitterly. Without Magneto there to tell him what to do, what good was he? With Magneto, he'd been useful: a mechanic, an assassin, a chauffeur, and a general handyman for all the things Sabertooth was too stupid to do and Mystique and the boss had been too busy to do. With a small flicker of pride, he reflected that the Brotherhood could not have worked without him. He grinned and chucked back the rest of the beer, using his tongue to drop it in the trash can. Yeah, he'd been useful.

Of course, what now? He frowned and thought about getting another beer. Now he was just a slimy freak with green skin and a wonder-tongue. Who else had use for a mutant like him? Well, Xavier did, to be sure, but who else that he could /stand/, maybe? No one, that's who. Not for the first time, he thought about the X-men bitterly. Sure, they all thought humans were great and worth saving. Any one of them could easily go down to the store and buy a pack of cigarettes or a magazine. They could walk around, even Cyclops, and not have people stare and point, or shout, or throw heavy objects at them. Or rotten fruit...Toad shied away from that particular memory. The point was, any one of them could pass for human. They really knew nothing of being on the receiving end of the seething hatred humanity had for people who were just so different. He felt his hands clench. Humans! They were all just rotten apes and deserved what they got when Magneto escaped! If he escaped...Toad sighed and slumped. No, this line of thought wasn't taking him anywhere. What would he do as soon as he could move around again? Probably just find his way back to the lair and wait for the rest of them to show up. He couldn't really believed they'd all been defeated. He hadn't heard anything about the police capturing Mystique or Sabertooth. But then, if they'd been able to get to Magneto, it stood to reason that Mystique was dead, and without Magneto, Sabertooth would just go back to living in the wilds. But...,Toad looked at the ceiling, lost. Magneto /had/ to escape. He was Magneto...he was his leader. He was a genius. Of course he would get away. It's not like the humans are smart enough to hold him forever. Toad smirked. Hell, even now as he sat in this apartment, Magneto was probably returning to his island, chuckling at the ease with which he had escaped from humans.

Toad shook off the heavy thoughts and got himself another beer, making the mental note that it would be his last one for the morning. After almost ten years in the Brotherhood, he wasn't used to having to worry about what would happen next and he didn't feel like starting now. He sifted through the playstation games and CDs. Beatles, Kingdom Hearts, BareNaked Ladies, Final Fantasy X2, AC/DC...something called D.C. Talk caught his eye with the title "Welcome to the Freak Show." He grinned sardonically. Yeah, welcome to the bloody freak show...wonder if this is any good. He turned it over and read the tracks. Christian music. Screw that. Ah, much better. He slipped Grand Theft Auto into the playstation and lost himself in a world of mindless, unpunished violence. And car stealing. Not as much fun as the real thing, but without the heart attack, he mused, remembering the time he'd hot-wired a vehicle, hands trembling, jumping at every movement. He gunned down an NPC and grinned. This was almost like being back at the lair; if he just focused on the game and didn't glance around, he could almost pretend that Mystique would walk in any minute, unplug the television, and tell him to get his green hindquarters into the briefing room. Yeah, just like old times.





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Okay, I know he says "piss you off" and I'm pretty sure that someone told me that wasn't British slang at all, but aside from "taking the mickey" (which only sounds cool when spoken outloud by an actual Brit and should never be used in writen form more than once a story), I couldn't think of anything. I'm fond of the "Stupid limey"/"Bloody yank." exchange, but if anyone found it offensive, I'm sorry. Also...grrrr...I want to post with some thing in italics, dangit!... I'm also beginning to think that I'm incapable of writing a non-complex sentence. ....4000 frigg in words...loquacitious to a fault. Sai, in case you haven't seen any, are the small, three-pronged weapon, like a mini-pitchfork, weilded by Raph of the Ninja Turtles. And finally, D.C. Talk is an awesome band, and not just cuz I like Christian music. They've got some sweet riffs and great vocals.

Next..."Dinner and a Movie!"