Author's Note: Eeep…I know, as a Toad fan-girl I am required to write flirty romantic…stuff…but….eh…let's just say the forecast for the next few days isn't…really…high for that sorta thing? Although. I can say that there's a 99.9 chance of angst. Lots of angst…y'all like angst, right? Hehe…heh? #runs away from angry reviewers#

Chapter Sixteen Pick Up & Delivery Day

Mortimer fully recovered a day after the fight in the Danger Room- he creamed Scott (to say the least), but ended up proclaiming a tie between himself and Wolverine.

To Marie's dismay, Toad began to cloister himself in the labs and the garage- tinkering with the various cars, motorbikes, helicopters- and his favorite- the Blackbird.

He was fascinated with its operation, and had succeeded in assembling and disassembling it completely in les than 12 hours.

Of course, Scott protested that Toad could easily sabotage the plane- but Xavier ignored this account once Mortimer constructed him a new wheelchair- faster and more efficient that the last.

Toad didn't do these things out of good will- certainly not. He would die a thousand deaths before he let any of that disgusting… 'Holiday cheer'… brush off on him. But building was what he DID- and without an assignment, he naturally turned to his work.

He was no more enthralled about joining the X-Men, and was still sarcastic and biting with most adults residing at the academy (he just avoided the children when he could) but now…he was not afraid. And that must be considered a plus, no matter how grim everything else seemed to be.

Sometimes Marie watched him in his workshop- just leaning on the door-frame. He looked completely engrossed in his work- it didn't seem like he awknowledged her presence.

"Never knew mechanics was so interestin'." Muttered Mort, lifting his goggles on to his forehead and examining his handy work. Marie jumped.

"I didn't know that…"

"Y' don't become a world-class assassin by ignorin' your surroundings." He said, setting down a prototype for something or another.

"Mort?"

"Wot, love?" he asked, still distracted.

"If…if you were allowed to leave, would you?" Mort then turned his attention fully to the other occupant of the room.

"I'm not mean to be here, Marie. It's nice as prisons go, don't get me wrong…" he chuckled. "But as soon as Xavier gives the word- I'm outta here."

"Why don't you let us help you?" she asked, flustered.

"I've accepted all the help I can from here. This place isn't right for me."

"Neither is the Brotherhood!" she snapped.

"What I do after you people 'deem me respectable enough to re-enter society' or whatever, is none of your concern." He hissed, brushing past her and stalking down the corridors.