Lucky Me

Chapter 071


"It's a truth universally recognized, when one part of your life gets better another one will fall spectacularly to pieces." Or something along those words was a part of the Bridget Jones' Diary movie that I had to shake hands with the writer and go 'yup' to.

Since my current position was between 'I quit' and going to the funny farm it seemed like getting anything resolved was the last thing I would be capable of. But, sadly, my life had a way of shooting a scene before I got script approval!

It has been a week in a half since my disastrous date thing with Jack, and we have snuck out only once since then to have another date-friend-thing. There was a conversation, I overheard, with Jean and Scott about some flippy kid who was so sure he saw a blob, meaning Blob Ooze 3 was going to come out. They thought it was a riot (no clue as to why), I thought it was nauseating.

Back to my life, as anyone could imagine, I was almost on cloud nine because of Jack's and mine new attempt at friendship. Although, I had to admit, I was rather busy the past few months to wonder what he was thinking (besides the times when I noticed he was looking at me with, well, something which left me with the feeling that I was just suckered punched). I was still wrapped up so much in the work as the leader of the X-Cites that I didn't really have time to dwell on my personal life.

Okay, that was a lot of pointless information, but let me move forward to something with several large and sharp points. Namely the Danger Room. Once again, we were in the Danger Room with a band of guys and things that were attempting to be passed off as females. They happened to be females chasing us around with swords and screaming in a language that sounded like a CD skipping in the middle of an opera. Oh yeah, some of the real X-men were in there just to 'shake things up'.

I flew from all the sharp pointy objects aimed at my head, thinking I'd be safe in the air. Wrong. Don't ask me when Mr. Warren went all swashbuckler on me, but he did. He had a sword and a smirk as he started for me.

We both weaved and dove after one another for a few moments before I was able to make him drop that dumb weapon (but not the smirk of satisfaction of beating me-or perhaps it was because his student came so far, who knew!).

"Get away from me!" Julie really didn't need her comm. link to be heard. Her little encore to the outburst was to fill the room with her dark, moody flames. It's the strangest thing. You expected it to burn your skin, but instead it felt like it was burning your very soul. Whatever she hit us with; I felt my adrenaline kick into overtime as my heart started to thud in my ears. So distracted by the odd sensation Black Flame's little fit caused, I didn't know Mr. Warren was close until he grabbed me from behind.

"Ready to give up?"

My wings were trapped between my back and his chest, meaning he was supporting us in mid-air with only his wings. His hands were clasped together in front of me making sure I couldn't use my arms. My strength wasn't with me for some dumb reason at first, but the harder I struggled, the more I could feel the adrenaline redirecting itself.

I stayed in black form when in the Danger Room because I wasn't an idiot. My normal skin started to creep up my legs, I was reverting back! Growling like a trapped animal (technically I was) I started to settle (playing 'possum' according to Mr. Logan) and waited two seconds before I yelled out. I extended my arms and wings at the same time-this was the only way of getting away.

It worked, but Mr. Warren was too experienced not to have had a backup plan. He grabbed a hold of the place that connected my wing to my back. Annoyed and still on the tidal wave of whatever Julie hit us all with, I started to scream, "Let me go!" And then I swiped at Mr. Warren, raking my fingers across his chest.

"Ugh!"

My wings free and spread, I turned to see where he was.

His shirt was red. His look was of utter shock and disbelief. There were slash marks across his chest.

I looked down at the hand which struck him, it was covered with blood.

The tips of my fingers glistened with the red liquid; it looked like some horrible fingernail polish for my new-claws?


"How is he?"

Dr. Hank smiled at me, showing off his fangs (with all the Twinkies he consumed, one had to wonder how he had any teeth left).

"When he left here, I assure you Warren's pride was the only thing in pain." Okay, that took care of one answer.

"What the heck are these?" I asked in my dead-pan Summers voice.

"My dear Miss Summers, those are what most people would call claws." He seemed to ponder something before adding, "Though in the avian world, I suppose the proper terminology would be talons."

I glowered. "What are they doing on my hands?"

"Ah, yes, I was wondering when you'd notice another transformation."

"You-You knew this was going to happen?" I fell on the doorframe for support. I expected him to be just as surprised as I was.

He had the intelligence to look sheepish.

"In a way." Dr. Hank was holding back information on me! "Don't give me that look, Miss Summers! You know perfectly well that I would have told you my theories if you asked."

I sighed.

"Is there anything thing else you're neglecting to tell me? Like, maybe before I grow a tail?" One very fuzzy blue eyebrow rose up over his glasses. "I'm kidding," I stated flatly.

Another fangy grin.

"Now, down to science and do not fret my dear feathered friend, I will keep in account that you have a New York minute attention span during this explanation." I cringed. "As you might or might not remember from our previous discussion many months ago about your unknown mutation, it appears to never stop mutating."

Taking off his glasses, he began to clean them with the hem of his lab coat.

"I'll put this in the easiest way for anyone to grasp. Everyone has a natural 'fight-or-flight' response when feeling threatened. You, dear Kookie, have this in spades. When you get highly emotional, I deduce, your mutation starts to work overtime to cancel out the threat."

My mouth twitched in a semi-smile full of 'yeah, right'.

"My blood can think?"

Dr. Hank hummed, "That's one way of putting it. Your wings were dormant for quite some time before they made their, er, appearance. As well as your skin. For reasons only known to you at this moment, you wished to be sky-able and also to have thicker skin."

My eyes went to my booted feet. There was a very good reason why I wanted to fly away so many, many months ago. My dad. I guessed I started to mutate then.

"As for your strength, I've heard that you are having problems controlling it, is this true?"

Nervous laughter time.

"Sort of." I was going to hurt whoever blabbed on me!

"Then my other prediction seems to be correct." I was not enjoying his 'I-know-more-about-you-than-you-know' spiel, "Your adrenaline can't keep up all your defenses, so it picks and chooses. When you feel threatened by Jean or Charles, your mental shields are your body's main priority."

Oh, and here I thought he meant when I felt stupid.

"So what's up with the claws? Did my nails feel threatened because I bit them?"

"Probably a result of Sabretooth." He said it like it was nothing! "And from current exercises which dealt with entrapment." I wanted to growl in frustration, but now knowing how any emotional outburst was going to affect my mutation, I decided not to tempt my temper.

Sighing instead, as Dr. Hank went into the details (which I blocked out), my mind wondered over to another question.

"What can you tell me about Julie?"

That caught him off guard, but Dr. Hank's a talker and therefore more than willing to tell me all he knew.


"Oof!"

"Again," Scott barked, I grumbled under my breath about wanting to pull his spandex underwear over his head. He didn't hear me, but Mr. Logan did and choked on his drink.

Climbing back to my feet for the fourth time, I whined, "Isn't this enough yet?" I should have known better; Scott gave me a disapproving look.

"No, again."

"Come on kid; prove I've taught ya something." Mr. Logan tried to be encouraging but came off as exasperated, like the rest of the comments given by Scott! The Kookie Flipper!

It took two seconds for me to land against the wall yet again.

"Where is your mind, Blyt?"

"Splattered against the wall along with my pride."

Scott thought it would be smart to test my hand-to-hand combat since my mutant abilities had been incapacitated not too long ago on the field. Basically it was a beat Kookie up hour.

"You won't go on the field any time soon at this rate." Oh, look at the tears in my eyes! I was fed up, tired, and hot. Not great qualities to have when facing someone who could blast you through a wall (and when you were doing everything possible to get that same person to acknowledge you).

Cursing (mentally) I stood ready again, when he made the motion for me to attack him, I didn't budge. Scott gave the same signal and I gave the same response.

"Move, Kookie."

I felt bratty, but not to the point of sticking out my tongue (yet), "No."

"Why not?"

"Because." Told you I felt like a brat.

"That's not an answer." Scott decided, as if he was talking to a three year old. "Attack."

I stood my ground. "No."

He seemed upset. Mr. Logan seemed amused.

A few minutes ticked by and no one moved. Finally, Scott seemed fed up with waiting and turned around to grab his towel from the handle bar. I lunged.

Too bad the whole room was surrounded by mirrors and therefore made it impossible to sneak up on any one. He looked up in enough time to see me, turned, grabbed my wrist in a painful hold and started to throw me. Before I was airborne once again, I did get a good, forceful kick to his ribs in.

I landed, smashing against the balance beams (which was not pleasant! Wood did not make for a soft cushion). As I lay on my head and shoulders, my knees curled up as I was in some odd fetal position, I had to wonder why none of the mirrors ever broke in this place.

"Nice go, kid," Mr. Logan complimented, lighting a cigar. Two seconds later Scott was griping at him about setting off the fire alarms to have Mr. Logan leave with a roll of his eyes.

Crossing my arms, I stayed in my upside down, propped up fetal position.

"Aren't you going to move?" Scott asked finally, dropping a towel in front of me.

"I was thinking about it." After a minute all the blood ended up in my face and I flipped to an upright position.

"You should really re-think your maneuvers. That was cocky and careless. One mistake on the field like that and hitting the wall will take on a whole new meaning." That translated into Kookiesse as: You didn't do well enough, try again later.

"But on the 'field' we won't be the first to move when someone is watching, will we?" It was meant to be a statement but ended up being a question as my nerve dissolved.

"You never know the circumstances you'll face on the field; you have to be prepared for everything." Even giant, nose eating slugs which look like the guys from Jersey Shore? How the heck was I supposed to prepare for that!


"Kerry, can't you control your teammate?"

Yeah, just about as much as Scott can control Mr. Logan.

"Hey, I've suggested taking her out back and burying her, but you keep saying it's wrong for some reason." Julie glowered at me, I smirked, and her glower got darker.

It was diner and it was pizza. The only reason I left my room was because it was pizza, I hadn't been eating like I should (and Mr. Warren would be the first one to say so) but pizza just called to me. It sounded a lot like a pig call actually.

Julie was acting up again; she decided to 'fry' Chris with a certain purplish flame. He got upset and then the entire electronic system around the room started to flicker. Professor told them in bigger words to knock it off.

So eyes went to me. I shrugged and just kept on grinning and Julie noticed and looked unnerved. Oh, I had plans for this little creature. In fact, after dinner Professor suggested that the juvenile team (us, how dare he call us children-er, juvenile. If I was called a juvenile I at least wanted 'delinquent' after it!) should practice. I held Adrian and Chris back from going, telling them they didn't have to be here (Julie had already gone in to the Danger Room).

The look on her face was priceless as it slowly dawned on her that it was only going to be the two of us.

"Where are the others?" I took to the air after her question.

"Oh, they're not coming."

"Then I'm out of here, I don't want to be flung around for no reason." I couldn't help but smirk as she marched to the door and started to punch in the opening sequence. After a few tries she turned to me (as I circled above), fists clenched. "What the hell did you do!"

"Oh, did I forget to mention that I changed the override code? You see, Cyclops promotes changing our passwords and since I amthe leader of the X-Citers-," it sunk in. I could almost see the moment when her mind sponged it up.

"Bloody hell-"

Let the games begin!

Twenty minutes later, "Get away from me!" Julie screamed. I was thinking that was going to be her catch phrase while living in the mansion and as part of my team. She tried to flame me with a bright black fire, but I easily dodged it, swooped upwards and circled around her. She grumbled something about stupid people and birds of prey.

"Why don't you just agree?"

"Because I don't have to!" she screeched, attempting to flame me again. Her flames where broad and not really targeted, so they were easy to dodge without really thinking about it.

"I can circle here for a few hours you realize." Hopefully she wouldn't call my bluff. My wings were strong enough to circle for about an hour more, but hours? Yeah right! Mr. Warren said it quite plainly that I would eventually be faster than he, but as for long distance? He'd remain the trophy holder.

Another twenty minutes ticked by and she slowly began to dwindle. It was kind of sad to look at. Within the next ten minutes Julie, sassy, never shut up Julie, was on her knees.

Landing (to give myself rest) I made sure to stay far enough away to have dodging room. From what Dr. Hank informed me of about a week ago was that Julie was a high level empath. He told me to think of her as a girl with constant PMS times twenty (and then times it by the largest number able to type be typed into a calculator).

There was, naturally, a catch to her powers. Her emotions, for the most part, relied on others. She was always near love, near a nervous breakdown, near depression, near happiness but never really there because it was all borrowed-or stolen.

I kept my distance from the girl, watching as she pitched forward to her hands and knees. This small sadistic devil on my shoulder smiled lovingly at the sight of seeing such a high and mighty girl near to passing out.

The superior smirk I hated so much ended up my face.

"You little emotional leach," I said coldly while she continued to breath erratically. "You're starving, aren't you?"

"Shut-up," Julie gasped out. "Th-This isn't any of-your concern." That dang smirk got deeper. "Oh really? Then I guess I'll just go-"

"No!" Julie's voice sounded lighter (not to mention pleading) like a little kid's voice.

Turning on my heel, I stared down at her.

"Then answer my question."

She cringed, pushing herself back to a position where she was sitting on her ankles, arms wrapped around her shoulders as she shook her head no. "I can't! I won't! You can't make me!"

If the smirk was something I couldn't stand, the next thing on my list was the eyebrow lift (which I also did).

"I can't, but I can. I can sit in here until you either blab or pass out. Since I don't feel like dragging you around the mansion, I'd suggest you talk."

"Why are you doing this, git?" I was starting to get concerned, her breathing was shallow. If she didn't stop it, she'd end up light headed and then Julie would really pass out. "W-what kind of sick creep are you?"

I didn't answer. I wasn't going to be baited. Instead, I gave her another question, "What's with the gloves?"

"F-fashion statement."

"You're lying."

"No bloody kidding!" She ground out. I kept repeating my question for what seemed like forever, until the expected unexpected happened. Julie passed out on the floor. And-I couldn't shake her awake.

I was going to be so dead.