Disclaimer: "Wait, so they get a Hugh Jackman lookalike and we get Logan the amazing Canadian supermidget?"

(An: And here we go again, with more Morph-themed madness. I hope I'm not annoying you all too much... but this fic is just really a furtherment of "Big Boom", i.e. an excuse to play with X-men!Remy and get more of a tie-in to canon, and the sequel will be more... plotty. And less... made up.)

"Ok," said Scott, looking Morph up and down. "This is your uniform." He shoved the ambiguous uniform at him. "It's biometric material, so it'll change when you change."

Kitty, who was watching with the rest of the X-men, spoke up. "What did you, like, wear before, anyway?"

Morph snapped the shirt he was wearing. "Funny stuff that goes transparent when you give it the shock treatment. Nicked it from a lab." (1)

"You were in a lab?" Kurt asked, cocking his head.

"Yeah, yeah, you know how those people are... promise you free orange juice and sugar cookies and then they start poking you... serves 'em right." Morph grinned so brightly that nobody noticed how quickly he changed the subject. "So, what are we doing now?"

"Danger Room session," Scott explained.

"...What are we doing?"

Scott sighed. "This could take a while... just get suited up, ok?"

"Can do, Scooter!"

"And who told you to call me that?"

FIVE MINUTES LATER...

Morph tugged curiously at his uniform. "Spandex?" Remy and Kurt snorted.

"Why does everyone ask that?" Scott wondered aloud.

"Maybe because it leaves nothin' t' de imagination?" Remy suggested, deadpanning. Rogue choked and Kurt collapsed, covering his mouth in a fruitless attempt to smother his laughter.

Scott blinked.

Behind him, Morph mouthed, "Not the brightest, is Scooter, hmm?"

"Let's just get started, ok?" said Scott, rubbing his forehead. I need an aspirin. He pointed at the DR door.

Morph watched the DR doors slide open with obvious amazement, and then skipped through, whistling "She Blinded Me with Science." Logan was standing there waiting for him, his arms crossed, scowling.

The other X-men headed up to the observation bay. Scott spoke into the mic. "Ok, see Logan?"

"Like I could miss him!" Morph chirped.

Remy stole the mic for a moment. "Y' must like bleeding," he commented.

Kurt stole the mic from him. "Yeah," he agreed. "Or you must not like your face much."

Scott cleared his throat. Remy and Kurt stared at him. "Y' need something, Scooter?" Remy asked.

"I'm running the sim here, remember?"

"Like you'd let us forget."

Scott cleared his throat again.

Remy and Kurt moved away in silent consent, both with bows.

Scott stepped up to the mic and continued as if nothing had happened. "So, like I was saying... the idea of this sim is just to test you. You get a minute to hide and then Logan's gonna track you. Then you fight and we see how long you can stand up against him."

"Record's five minutes," Kitty commented, grabbing the mic. "But that was, like, pure dumb luck."

"Damn straight it was," Logan muttered. (1)

"So... are we starting or what?" Morph asked, rocking back on the heels of his neat new New Recruit boots.

Scott sighed and pressed the red button.

The metal walls of the room faded away, revealing rather a large city- downtown Bayville, to be precise.

"WOW," said Morph, looking impressed.

"Run, kid," Logan advised, sitting down so he faced a wall.

Morph blinked, and then ran off, grinning slightly.

One minute later exactly, Logan stood up and sniffed the air. "I got nothing," he muttered, then looked down. The kid had stayed on the gravel- he knew Logan couldn't smell him. No wonder the kid was so damn confident. Of course, gravel shifted under your feet...

FIVE MINUTES LATER

It'd been tricky even for Logan to find Morph's hiding spot, but the kid had messed up by cutting across grass. The clever holograms in the simulation left a nice trail for Logan to follow, straight to Morph's little sanctum sanctorum. "Boo," said Logan, peering down into the hole.

Morph waved up at him. "...So we're supposed to fight now?"

Logan just stared.

"Silence means consent, so righteo." Morph climbed out of the hole and squared himself.

"Ok, kid, you get one free shot. Hit me as hard as you can."

"That's not really fair..."

"Nobody'll care if it's fair or not; you take what you get, kid. Just imagine I'm someone you hate."

Morph blinked, and then frowned, his mouth settling into a line. He feinted left, right, and then shifted into a panther and tackled Logan, effectively driving him through the doorway of a nearby shop.

Logan blinked, and pulled some splinters out of his back before shoving Morph off.

Simulation complete, chirped a computerized voice, and the sim faded away.

Logan was grinning. "You get ice cream, kid," he said.

"IT'S MORPH, DAMMIT!"

A FEW MINUTES LATER, THE LOCKER ROOM

Morph, back in his normal clothes, held up the suit and stuck his hand through the hole. "Um... this isn't a good thing, is it."

Scott facepalmed. "That's biometric fabric, Morph. It has to be grown."

"And that's... bad?"

Scott nodded, sighing. "Come on, let's go talk with Hank."

Morph followed him, still humming that song.

IN HANK'S LAB...

Scott stuck his head in the door. "Hank? You in here, Mr. McCoy?"

"Come right on in, Scott," said a voice from the ceiling. "I'll be down in a moment."

Scott and Morph walked in, the latter looking around for the voice.

A second later, Hank swung down from the bars on the ceiling, holding a half-eaten Twinkie in one foot. "Would either of you care for one?" he asked, switching it to his hands and landing by his desk.

"Uh... no thanks," said Scott, looking slightly squicked.

"So, what can I help you with?" Hank asked, beaming at them.

Morph held up his uniform, the hole prominent.

"Ah, biometric, is it?" Both teens nodded. "As I thought. Bring it here; I'll take a sample and get on growing some more straight away."

"Groovy!" said Morph, handing over the suit.

"O Hyperborean Wanderer," Hank murmured inspecting the suit.

"...Huh?"

Hank rolled his eyes. "Teenagers these days have no taste in literature. You lived on the roads, did you not?"

"Yep!" Morph agreed. He stuck his tongue out at Hank. "And I like Shakespeare, not any of those other dead dudes." He shifted into traditional garb, holding up a skull and doing a pretty good Hamlet. "To be, or not to be-"

He was interupted by Scott walking out and closing the door behind him.

"Some people have no taste," he sighed.

"Amen," Hank agreed, smiling.

(And that's another chappy down. Woot. Next chapter, Rob's new roomy!)