Lucky Me
Chapter 078
Never think for a second that life will go well, especially when you wear an 'X' target on your uniform.
Just when I thought they couldn't get any weirder or ask anything else from me, they went and poked me in the side and laughed.
They were freaking crazy. I said it before, but now I had die hard proof (literally, these people were like impossible to kill! They always came back at least according to the files on the computer).
They looked back at me, and to think I thought my first day of school (last Monday) was going to be tough. But when I walked into the Danger Room on the second Saturday of August, I was struck speechless. I got my times confused apparently.
Instead of seeing Flex, Shockwav, and Black Flame (D-M was still out of commission) there was Phoenix, Gambit, Rogue, Iceman, and Angel. In other words, I think this was the re-vamped blue team (or gold, either way, the one Cyclops usually manned). My team colors were unofficially black and red. So we weren't the Black team or the Red team, we were the last ditch effort team.
"Uh," I started to back up when I hit something that was warmer than the doors. Scott. He looked down at me and I nearly jumped right onto Gambit because the guy surprised me. Looking between the team and their leader, I decided to make a hasty exit. "Well, guess I'll be going." Nervous laughter, turn on the heel, but an iron grip on my arm stopped me.
"You're supposed to be in here," Scott started. "This is your team."
Was the room spinning or was it just me?
"Huh?"
Must be me.
"For the next few weeks in the Danger Room, you will instruct this team. I will be taking over yours." What kind of person thought this torture sequence up? They were probably going to record this (ha-ha yeah right) exercise and show it at the 'X-men's Funniest Home Videos' or something.
"Why?" I whined, facing the team.
"Because you need to be able to lead those who are older and more experienced than you."
That was the lamest thing I had heard in a while.
"Chris and Adrian are older than me."
"By a few years if even that much."
I examined them again; most wore amused looks. Scott didn't seem amused; he appeared to be serious. I was going to die under my own orders!
"I can't do this!" Yes, when pressured by adults I took the pathetic (yet effective!) way out by pitching a fit and crying like a little kid in the toy store.
"You haven't even tried yet."
"Because I'm sane enough to know better!" I protested, crossing my arms.
"I think she's just intimidated by our good looks."
"Certainly couldn't be intimidated by your brains, Drake." My hand flew to cover my mouth as Gambit laughed at the comment. The amused looks got even more amused.
"This is an order, Blyt," Cyclops stated in all his authoritative glory.
I glared hard and long. He didn't even flinch.
"Fine."
Fine, if he wanted me to do this suicidal thing, I'd do it. But I was either going to make them grovel before me (not likely by any stretch of the imagination) or I'd just mess with their heads. From what I understood, many of them already had their heads messed with so it wouldn't be hard to make them see what a big fat mistake me being in charge was.
"Your exercise is a simple one: Sentinels." And with that, Cyclops left the room.
I was left with my new 'puppies' and I was the Alpha female. Funny how I felt my non-existent puppy tail shake between my legs were it was securely tucked.
"Well, boss what is it you want us to do?" Bobby-Jerk asked, leaning against the wall trying to look cool.
I gave him my best serious expression.
"Teach them the Two-Step."
"What?" Gambit asked, more than a bit interested now.
I shrugged and repeated what I said as if it was the most logical thing ever. "I want you to teach the Sentinels to two-step."
No one probably thought this was a good idea. In fact, from the way they all looked like fish in a steel aquarium, they were probably thinking I wasn't a good idea.
"Why?" Miss Rogue finally drawled out.
Shrugging again, I answered (letting my mouth ramble without a filter mainly).
"Because anyone can destroy them. Try to teach them something, now there's a real challenge."
"And this would benefit our cause how?" Jean asked. Suddenly she didn't look so well.
"It would build character." I stated as if I knew what I was talking about in a sane way. "If you teach a few of them to dance, they could in turn teach others the same and in five years they would be on cable in the first annual Sentinel Two-Step competition." I paused. "Not to mention it would allow them to filter out their anger in a more constructive way."
When I was done, you could almost hear the crickets chirping outside.
Smiling innocently, I clapped my hands and in an enthusiastic voice said, "Let's begin!"
As predicted, they went in their natural swing of working together without noticing me. All I had to do was stay out of the way and look like a leader without actually doing anything. My claws would have been helpful, but I chose not to take a chance on breaking them. Petty yes, but it was still a valid excuse. Pain was always an excuse.
"Don't these things stay dead?" Miss Rogue screamed.
"Not if they're names are Grey or Summers."
Jean found it funny to send something flying dangerously close to my head. I yelped and ducked in the air. Her sense of humor was just wrong at times. After what felt like an eternity of me dodging actually giving any orders (and flying sentinel parts), the Danger Room returned to normal. Well, as normal as a basement built to instruct and help mutants fight and so on and blah blah. You got the joke, why should I continue?
The Professor and Scott probably were watching from their little god seats. I was proven correct when I heard the Professor state, "Do over."
Then he heard me state something.
"Huh? Why?" I felt my right eyebrow start to tick in anger.
"The exercise was a failure." Professor Xavier explained calmly.
I groaned and ground the heel of my hand into my forehead.
"How? I mean, they made the big nasty robots go 'boom'. What went wrong?"
"They never completed the objective of the exercise." What was that? To strike cool poster poses while making the big nasty robots go 'boom'?
"And that would be?"
"I do believe you wished the team to teach the sentinels to -two step." One big nasty bug just came back to bite me in my behind. "Do over."
I threw myself on my desk chair, slumped forward on my desk, and sighed deeply. Sometimes it sucked being both a mutant of spandeX and a senior in high school. It was Adrian, Julie, and me this year. No Chris (graduated, remember?). Of course, there was some debate over Julie's green card or whatever so she started later instead of last week like the rest of us suckers.
Where was D-M? That was easy. In the house getting home-schooled until they felt like she was stable enough to take on the pressures of public/private education again. It probably helped to finalize their decision when Daisy spent two days with the flu last week and was now sporting a pretty nasty cut on her left arm. They thought she was inflicting pain on herself. Weird, huh?
But back to Julie.
Of course Julie wouldn't be her bratty, nerve grating self without opening her big trap.
It was a nightmare I should have seen coming.
Julie versus Mr. Poovey, yes it was a spectacular fight.
Yes, there was per-verbal blood bath.
No, I didn't know how they were going to get it out of the carpet.
I was in the same class as she was, though why she, a British born bad girl, had to learn about American Government was beyond me. I didn't set her schedule; I just had to endure it.
Back to Mr. Poovey's.
Picture this, we, the good brain washed students of any given high school with putrid uniforms, all walked in and sat down. He was going to reassign us anyway, so wherever my hind-end ended up wasn't important at that moment.
And then the dreaded guy came in, Mr. Poovey in all his fearsome, F-handing-out glory. I never checked my final grade from last year; I purposefully tore the final report card up and hid it in one of my desk drawers back at the mansion.
A minute later, the horror named Julie made her debut in the eighth realm of heck. I think she came from the ninth realm, personally.
"You're late," Mr. Poovey stated.
Julie, in turn, snorted. "Be happy I'm here."
Not good, and everyone knew it. A complete silence came over the room. Mr. Poovey looked Julie up and down, and glared.
"Fishnets are against school dress code."
"Wot's an old badger like you looking for anyway?" Julie snapped back. "Isn't that sexual harassment to be giving your students the one over?" I shrunk further into my seat. Maybe no one would ever have to know I knew this girl. "Besides, she" of course she pointed to me, "never told me otherwise. I just wasn't informed. Jump down her bloody throat, not mine!"
Everyone turned their attention to me and I could only mutter under my breath about choking the girl with those debatable fishnet stockings. That was just the preliminary round; they really got into it later.
Though the brainless girl gave it her all, I believe Mr. Poovey won when he grabbed her by the arm and hauled her off to the principal's office. Julie was screaming 'abuse, abuse' at the top of her lungs.
I heard she got suspended for the rest of the week.
I was in last period which, sadly, was 'study hall' once again. But this year they assigned me to Mr. Drake. It would figure. Of course there was his drooling fan girls happily swarming around him like flies to a dead animal (what, you want me to compare him to honey?).
Not all the girls were preoccupied with Mr. Drake, there was a fair amount hanging around Adrian. They were laughing with him and flipping their hair as they toyed with his. After all, he was the big, buff football player.
This was pathetic. Only I and the other handful of guys thought this. There were about 11 girls (including me) and 6 guys (including Adrian and Mr. Drake).
I was going to give them heck my next opportunity. Imagine the nerve of him. I tried my best not to look, but he shot me one of the smiles he usually gave when he was being sheepish because he knew he was guilty of something. I turned my head from him. If he wanted to make a fool out of himself that was his choice. He wasn't going to drag me into it (well, further than I already was, especially not in front of other people).
When one of his concubines broke free long enough to realize they were in a semi-public setting, the girl sat down next to me and started to fan herself. "He is so hot."
The noise I made wasn't normal for me; it was a jealous kind of noise.
"Too bad you don't know." I was not a pleasant jealous person.
"What do you mean? What don't I know?"
She took the hook.
"About his—secret."
"Secret?" She leaned closer to hear better.
There went the line down her throat. I smirked.
"Yeah, the secret about him. I thought everyone knew!" I called up my acting skills. "You don't know? Honestly?"
She bit her lower lip and shook her head 'no'. It was time to get the fish to swallow the sinker.
"He has kids," I lied. I knew it was going to be heck should he ever hear about this. Her jaw dropped. "About five of them." Her eyes got larger. "All by different girls." She did a wonderful impression of a big mouth bass on a plaque.
"H-How?"
I felt my cheeks turn slightly red. "How do you think?"
"I-I mean who? When? Where?"
"The who, I'm not sure. The when? A year or two ago, before he came here." I sighed like I just told her the worst news in the world. "All around the same age too." Shrugging, "Just thought you'd like to know."
She blinked her eyes and was taking deep breaths. Sheesh, with this kind of reaction, one would think I just told her she was getting a breast reduction or something.
When I looked up at him again, he lost his smile as I felt a smug reassurance take hold of my face.
This was going to be too much fun.
I stared at the cook who gave me a drop-dead expression.
"What's the meaning of this?" I croaked. That got the other cook's attention.
"We're making dinner."
My mouth twitched with a want to comment.
"Why not stay and watch the show?" Bobby-Jerk said cheerfully cracking an egg.
"It's the guys under 26 turn to cook." Jerking a thumb toward Iceboy, "He barely fits the category."
"T-then were is Adam and Adrian?"
"Not here yet," Chris told me, and then turned his back on me to start up what I could only hope in a few minutes would resemble something akin to food. "Why'd you come down here?"
"I was hungry."
"Was?"
"The two of you in pink and yellow aprons made my stomach queasy, but the ruffles just killed it, thanks."
"Not like it would kill you to lose a pound or ten."
"You die," I seethed and turned to leave, but was basically stampeded back into the kitchen when Adam came up behind me. He begged me to help them.
I took a seat on a stool near the phone and beside the fridge. It was a prime seat for the show. I had no idea what they were going to try and make, but I noticed something that spelled trouble right off. Adam took over the main dish, Chris was making the dessert, and I think Adrian and Bobby were on side dish duty. If this had been for a family of four or five, it wouldn't take too long. But they had to prepare enough food to feed a small country.
Of course, they were going to have their own war with the pots, pans, eggs and who could forget the clichéd banana peel?
"It hurts," he whined as I took out the tweezers from my hidden 'girl-girl' supply. Hauling him (by his good hand, I was not that cruel) into the bathroom, he jumped up on the counter top and I rolled my eyes. Such a little kid sometimes. He was pouting slightly and holding his hurt hand.
"Boys," I muttered and took his hand in mine. Being as careful as I could, I began to pluck out the hair thin slivers of brown glass. "I can't believe you guys sometimes."
He tried to flinch away as a particularly nasty piece was removed.
"I think you enjoy this," he hissed out as I retrieved yet another piece from his palm.
"I tried to warn you. You think with Mr. Science in the kitchen you would have known better." I smiled at him as he got a more pronounced pout.
"Hey, I wasn't the one who threw ice into the glass pot!" He pointed out. Well duh it wasn't him; it was Chris, the King of the Dense. The glass pot got hot, and to cool it down, he threw a handful of ice cubes in it!
Well, of course it shattered into many many pot pieces! And then the guys all held up their hands and arms to protect their faces, the result was a lot of pieces in four moaning guys. Adam said he'd take care of the other two and practically shoved me out the door with 'Jack'. Adam, I guessed, dragged the other two babies down the hall and to the medical lab.
I think he knew something was up with Jack and I.
But regardless, there I stood, Nurse Kookie (wouldn't my grandmother be proud-because then she'd have a reason to try to get me to wear her 'nursie' outfit) with a pair of tweezers. A smile crept on my face for an unknown reason.
"I knew it! You are enjoying this!"
My head snapped up, and my eyes turned into thin slits.
"Oh yes, I have nothing better to do than take care of a big baby." I pulled the next piece out viciously. Lucky for him, it was the last shard I could see.
He groaned when I put his hand under water to clean out anything that might be still hanging on. After fetching some band-aids, I crossed my arms and stared at the overgrown baby.
"It still stings," Jack muttered under his breath. Sighing heavily, I rolled my eyes.
"Would you rather Dr. Hank spray you with ten million different chemicals and bandage you up like a mummy?"
"No." Good, I got through to him. "But it hurts still."
He shot me that 'prepare-to-slap-me' smile of his.
"Kiss it. Make it better?" He held out his hand to me.
My face turned crimson. Heck, it was probably purple.
"W-what! I'm not a vampire. I don't like blood!"
He put his hand down and a tick later leaned forward. "Then kiss my mouth instead."
My eyes were going to pop out of my head and roll down a sink (and expose my brain as it took a shower in my skull, somehow I had this vision of a screaming brain in a shower with a shower cap and a scrubbing brush). "W-what?"
He gave the school-boy smile, hoped off the counter, and walked to the door.
"Dinner won't cook itself."
"It won't get cooked by you guys either." I replied in a somewhat whisper. I felt a small smile on my lips. I guessed he was really trying hard to be 'just friends' first.
"I heard that!" He shouted from somewhere down the hall.
After cleaning up, I went back to the kitchen. Jack was busy cleaning up the pieces with another one of the guys, when Chris and Adam walked in.
"We only have two more hours before everyone attempts to eat themselves or us." Adam pointed out in a slightly unnerved voice. I think he was afraid of Mr. Logan. He told me he saw the man kill a deer and then roast its meat on a bar-b-que pit.
My comfort for him was to point out that at least Mr. Logan didn't eat the deer raw.
"Okay, we can do this," Adrian, suddenly Mr. Enthusiastic, chirped.
I rolled my eyes and resumed my perch on the stool. Chris and Adam kept switching the cook book pages back and forth. Sheesh, was it such a huge inconvenience to pull out another stinking book? We had three shelves full of them.
About half an hour later things were shoved in the oven and bowls.
Finding myself bored, I hopped off the stool and went to my room. I had an hour and a half to kill before trying whatever muck they managed to concoct. I wouldn't be surprised if Chris accidentally made some other life form like the Powerpuff girls since he was in charge of the 'sugar and spice' stuff.
"Males are nothing but testosterone and hormones wrapped up flesh with a bit extra between their legs!" Julie shoved a fork full of Adam's meatloaf in her mouth and swallowed with a pained expression on her face. "And they can't bloody cook! What wanker let them in the kitchen!"
"She has a fascination with blood. Did you ever notice that?" Daisy-Mae whispered.
I rolled my eyes.
"She has a fascination with how short she can make her life span."
"We did the best we could," Adam defended weakly. "Sorry if it's not the best. I'm not exactly use to cooking."
"Don't apologize to her!" Chris seethed. "She hasn't set foot in the kitchen since she got here."
Julie glared at him through her sunglasses.
"Kids," we all practically groaned at being called that, "let's have a nice, quiet dinner," Dr. Hank said in a cheerfully authoritative tone.
The kind I think Santa Claus must have, happy but only a cookie away from kicking the elves kesters from the North to the South pole and back again.
It took all of three minutes before Julie started to rant again. Everyone was highly annoyed with her (I think that's why everyone just glared at their food. I didn't think the meatloaf told a bad joke or anything).
"Do you ever shut up?" Stacey (former mutant-power-hooker woman) asked, clearly peeved.
"The thought's crossed my mind," Julie replied, as full of herself as a person could be without ripping at the seams.
"Must've been a short trip," I shot out.
"You girls t'ink you can do better?" I would have thought it was some type of challenge if Mr. Remy hadn't looked utterly disgusted by the crunchy, yes crunchy, gravy in his mouth.
"O' course we can!" Julie piped up. D-M beat me to the 'shut-up wouldja?' look.
"Good, tomorrow. You three cook," Mr. Kurt stated, and the rest agreed.
I could have hurt Julie, but I decided instead of pain, I'd put her on the menu. Even though she didn't have much meat on her, sort of like a skinny, expensive horse with an attitude, I think she'd be chewy enough.
Wonder what she would taste like after a few hours roasting on an open flame?
