Chapter Eight: Panic and Inspiration
Jeanne-Marie woke in a panic.
Her face was wet. Her body was shaking. Her head was pounding and she suddenly felt as if she would be violently ill...
::Jean-Paul?:: Her voice rattled, bounced off the walls of her skull and caused a flash of white pain to explode behind her eyes. She was crying, still. Hard.
::I'm here, sister,:: The reply was quiet, comforting. A hand on hers, warm and familiar.
The lights were so bright. She pushed herself up to sitting, eyes closed against their harshness, reaching for him. She felt the medcot give under him as he sat next to her, felt his arm around her shoulders, holding her up. She let her head come to rest on his shoulder, gently.
She had no idea why she was in the medlab, or why her head felt as if her brain had swollen while she slept... but she knew enough already to realize that being gentle with it was the best course of action.
And she knew that she was scared. Horribly scared, so that she was starting to shake in her brother's arms. She moved closer to him and felt his shoulder growing wet as she cried. But she couldn't stop.
He shifted under her weight, gently, pushed her hair away from her face.
Terror. Absolute, sudden terror, as she felt him move. She gripped his leg, hard, dug nails into his jeans. ::Don't leave me, Jean-Paul. Please, brother, don't leave me... they'll come for me...::
She didn't understand it until the words were out of her mouth. But once she did, it only made the terror grow exponentially. Made her stomach revolt, so that she could taste acid fear in the back of her throat. Made the tears flow harder, faster, until she felt that her eyes were on fire.
Flashing red lights. Faceless people in a mob. Pushing. Something heavy. Metal. Flashing.
She cringed, from the inside out. Because she knew what those lights meant.
Mutant. They'd hurt her because they knew she was a mutant.
::Shhhh, Jeanne-Marie,:: she heard her brother in her ear, felt his gentle hands on her face, drying her cheeks. They were wet again as soon as he finished. But the gesture itself, a gentle touch... she needed it. To be reminded of it, of that presence. Jean-Paul was there. With her.
::Please, don't leave me..."
::Shhhhh,:: He whispered, into her hair. So soft, he almost sounded like someone different. But she could feel him. Arm over her shoulders, mind brushing hers, hand on her face. ::No one will come for you. I'm here.::
::They will come,:: she insisted, sobbing the words into his shoulder, with great certainty.:: And they know, Jean-Paul. The red light... they know about me...::
::What do they know about you, sister?::
::They know,:: She dug her nails into his leg again, desperate, choking on the words, on the taste of her fear, ::I'm a mutant.::
Hands brushed her face again, dried her tears momentarily, and she heard her brother mutter something, felt it rumbling low in his chest as she clung to him. ::My god, Jeanne-Marie...::
She shook for a moment longer, felt him clutching her nightgown fitfully with one hand, smoothing her hair, her face, with the other. Eyes closed tight. But she could still see the lights flashing.
Red lights, that meant that they knew. She was a mutant.
"Jeanne-Marie," A new voice, hesitant, hoarse, whispered. Familiar... safe?
She blinked, and turned her head, eyes slowly adjusting to the clinical glare. And saw him...
At first, she was scared, wondered where his sword was. Wasn't that the angel, from the window at Madame DuPont's? Had he finally come for her? For the abomination?
But... no. His eyes were gentle. They calmed something in her, some sort of nervous vibration in her stomach. As blue as the sky on a clear day, just as warm and full of light.
Yet... sad.
She knew this golden angel with the wings. She loved him. He wasn't here to judge... but to... save?
"Warren...," She said the name as it came to her, knew it was his as it fell from her lips.
He smiled, slow and sad. And came to the side of the bed, reached out a hand for her. "Jeanne-Marie... I was so worried..."
The words meant nothing to her, other than her name. But the low, sweet tones of her voice washed over her in a wave. And she reached out, took the hand he offered her, watched as it enveloped her own smaller one.
Yes. Safe.
She rested her head on her brother's shoulder again, and let go of a shaky sigh. Closed her eyes. ::Don't leave me, Jean-Paul. Tell him not to leave me.::
Her brother's voice was choked as he replied, ::We won't, sister. We won't leave.::
* * *
Things just... weren't supposed to happen this way.
Scott Summers always had a grip on things. Even when things went to hell, he knew what was happening. He dealt with things. That was what he did.
But at the moment, he wasn't sure whether he should be stepping forward, moving backwards, or doing a fucking Irish jig. Because any move he could make at the moment, only seemed like it would make things worse.
He closed the door to Jean's room, as quietly as possible, leaving her sleeping on her old bed peacefully. She needed an afternoon nap– apparently she hadn't slept well the night before. Today, he'd lain there with her, while she calmed down. They hadn't said much. She'd clung to him, which she'd never really done before. Clung to him like she needed him, really. Like she needed something.
Two weeks ago, he would've given his left arm for that.
But now... now he felt like he was choking on it.
They hadn't been that close to each other in a long time. He hadn't kissed Jean, really kissed her, in weeks. Hadn't held her in longer. Hadn't had a conversation like the one they'd had earlier in at least as long.
All it took to bring them back to it was a complete and utter cluster fuck, apparently.
Some relationship.
He looked at his feet as he shuffled down the hallway, feeling like his lungs would burst with joy. He hadn't realized it at the time, but Jean's room had felt horribly suffocating. Like all the oxygen had gone out of it, somehow.
And Scott felt even more like World's Biggest Jerk for thinking that.
He turned the corner–
And stopped dead, suddenly face to face with an extremely shocked looking Rogue. Her pale eyes were wide, and her face growing a little darker, which he knew well enough meant that she was flushing under the layers of pale make-up she always hid behind.
Scott blinked at her for a minute, surprised. He hadn't realized it was so late– were they home from school already? He must have been in there with Jean for over an hour before she finally passed out...
"Uh... sorry, Scott," The southern girl fumbled, strangely flustered. "I'm just on my way to my room..."
"You ok?" He asked, noticing that her voice was a little breathier than usual. "You look a little flushed."
Rogue looked down now, then flicked her eyes back up to his, quickly. "I'm fine. Just... Remy. You know."
Scott sighed. One more thing. Great.
"Is he bothering you, Rogue? I can have a talk with him–,"
"Don't be stupid, Scott, I can handle it," She rolled her eyes, but was obviously irritated not only by his suggestion, but by Gambit's attentions as well. "And it's not like he's doing anything..."
Scott cocked his head at her as she trailed off, and narrowed his eyes slightly, to let her know that there was no way she was getting away with giving him that little information. Rogue definitely looked uncomfortable. He wasn't the best at reading his friends, but he could tell that much just from the look on her face. Normally, the pale girl looked bored or thoughtful. Right then she just looked... irritated. "What did he say?"
"Nothing... can we go outside or something?"
He blinked, confused for just a moment. Then nodded. Of course. Gambit was a thief, first and foremost. He could be anywhere, and she probably didn't want him following her around, listening to her every conversation. "Yeah, let's go take a walk. You need a coat?"
She shook her head, "I'm fine."
Somehow, Scott doubted it.
~~~~~~~
"He's just... everywhere," Rogue was saying, looking around as if she believed her own words quite literally. "I mean, he was at school today. I saw him, when I looked out the window. It's..."
"Creepy?" Scott finished, eyebrows raised high. Ok this was definitely not acceptable. He was going to have to talk to the Professor about this, because stalking Rogue was absolutely not an option if Gambit wanted to hang around the X-Men. It was just... yeah. Creepy.
Of course, he found a lot of things about the Cajun mutant creepy.
She was hugging herself, obviously having lied about being "fine" to come outside without a coat. It was a warm day, for the beginning of November, because the sun was bright. But any time there was shade, it was clear that winter wasn't far away– there was a biting sort of chill to the air. "Yeah, kinda... I mean, I know he wouldn't hurt me–,"
"Rogue, with all due respect, he kidnapped you," Scott pointed out, less than gently, despite his words.
"I was going to run away anyhow."
Surprised, he furrowed his brow at her. "You were?"
She looked away, quickly, pale eyes darting. "Forget it, ok? I'm here now. The thing is... he understands things about me that... Scott, you know I love the X-Men, but some things, y'all just can't understand. Not even Kurt."
Scott considered this, carefully. Trying very hard not to take it personally, but finding it surprisingly difficult. He tried to look at it from his Cyclops perspective– teammate is irritated, not necessarily threatened, but some kind of action needs to be taken...
And instead, he was only getting Scott perspective. Which was pretty much– But I told her about Jean and she can't tell me about this? What is it that I couldn't understand?
He shook his head, physically trying to rid himself of such stupid thoughts. Not like he and Rogue were ever best friends... just... well, he felt kind of stupid. Not only was he the World's Biggest Jerk for wanting to break up with Jean... but Rogue and Jean-Paul knew he had wanted to break up with her. He'd told them both in no uncertain terms, before the whole protest debacle. And they'd listened rather well, made him feel better about it. Even JP, really, despite his recent... issues with Pietro. He'd been distracted, but not like he was now... now that JM was injured...
And crazy again.
But that was another kettle of fish.
"And Remy... understands?" He ventured, after he managed to push away the strangely irritating idea that he, himself, couldn't understand.
Rogue only shrugged, at his side, "Yeah. He does."
"Rogue... are you thinking of...?"
She looked up at him, and narrowed her eyes. And he didn't need to finish his question. Was she thinking of dating Gambit or something? His obsession with her was growing more and more obvious the longer he stayed. But she had been strangely neutral about him. Outwardly, anyhow. "What if I am?"
He raised an eyebrow again, and felt a half-smile appear on his face. "Just asking. Because if you are... not that I think you should... but we should be prepared, right? I mean... someone needs to watch your back."
And just as fast as she'd looked suspicious, Rogue's face suddenly relaxed, and she shook her head. "No. I could never trust him. My god, Scott, I wish things were like they used to be, and I could just be..."
But she trailed off, and suddenly looked away from him, wrapping her arms around herself again. Obviously she was cold... but it was more than that. And he knew it.
He just wasn't sure what more it actually was.
Either way, she was obviously freezing. And he could at least do something about that, even if he wasn't sure what to do about Gambit. She didn't even seem to know how she felt herself, when it came to the Cajun Casanova, so he wasn't sure that he could do anything much... except try and get her to talk. And watch her back, like he'd said. He pulled his sweater off over his head, feeling the bite of the air on his skin instantly, even through the short-sleeved t-shirt he had on underneath, and held it out to her. Oddly enough, the very sweater she'd bought him for Christmas last year.
She looked at the sweater, then up at him. Obviously disbelieving what she was seeing. "You're kidding."
"Take it. I'm fine," He insisted, suddenly realizing that he was putting his life in danger. If he'd done that to Jean, she probably would've sent him flying into the side of the house. She wasn't much for the chivalry that was just... second nature to him. It wasn't even that she was a girl... well ok, it was a little. But honestly, he would've offered it to Alex or Jean-Paul or Kurt... well, probably.
For another moment, she just looked at the sweater. And finally, she reached out and took it, surprising the hell out of him. He half expected to be knocked unconscious.
Phew. Close one. Think a little harder next time, Summers.
"So," He shoved his hands into the pockets of his khakis and waited for her to pull the sweater over her head. "What is it that you wish was the same as it was back then? Cause I've been thinking the same thing lately."
Her head poked out of the fuzzy thing, and she smoothed it down carefully, then tucked her hair behind her ears before answering, "Just stuff, you know? I mean, last year I never really expected to be living in the same house with Gambit. And anyhow I was...," She stopped again and cocked an eyebrow, considering him carefully.
"What?" He laughed, starting to walk again, now that she was situated. The sweater was way too big for her smallish frame, bit it looked kind of cute over that little black skirt and tights she had going on. Quite a contrast. And so not Rogue. Way too preppy, and way too baggy, at the same time.
"I had a crush on you then."
Scott almost tripped, as he forced himself to start walking again.
He recovered from his fumbled step quickly, mind racing, and swallowed hard.
She... had a crush on him?!
Well, not anymore, of course. That was stupid, because if she did, she wouldn't have told him...
Oh. Shit. Well that explained...
Yeah. Everything.
"Um...," He struggled for something to respond to that with, unable to look over at her. He couldn't make himself. He was just... stunned. Even if he could kinda see it now... damn. He'd had... no idea. "Um, I... I didn't know that."
Rogue actually laughed, and gave him an almost playful shove in the arm. "No shit, Sherlock. You're just about daft when it comes to that kind of thing aren't you?"
He looked at the ground hard, and felt his cheeks burning. Oh man... talk about embarrassing... and all this time... "Uh... guess so."
"Oh don't freak on me, Scott, it's over," She laughed again, "I just mean... you know it was so simple, that crush. And this thing with Remy, it's so... complicated. I mean... I'm attracted to him. But what the fuck am I supposed to do with that? I mean, it's not like I can touch him. Even if I really wanted to. So if I can't trust him, if I'm not really sure if I even like him, some useless attraction really doesn't seem like much of a reason to give him a shot, you know?"
Mind still racing, Scott nodded. And kept looking at the ground. Holy Jesus... she had liked him! Wow, what a complete idiot he'd been. Not that he had felt the same, he had been too busy wishing Jean would dump that asshole Duncan...
Oh right. The Remy thing. "Uh... yeah. And I don't trust him either, to be honest. None of us really do. He has to prove himself. And if you wanted to... uh, date him then, I mean, that's your choice, but... yeah. He's um..."
He felt her cold, thin hand on his arm now, through her gloves. "You ok? I shouldn't have told you that, maybe, I just... I mean I thought it'd be ok now..."
"No, it's fine," he insisted, finally looking up at her, catching her eyes with his again. And swallowing hard. It was fine. Right? "I just... I didn't know, you know? Just surprised me."
"Yeah, well," She rolled her eyes at him, "Like I said, you're kinda stupid about things like that, Scott."
"Yeah," He gave her a lopsided grin. "Apparently."
A pained look appeared on her face, and she kept walking. But she didn't take her hand off his arm. So he sort of... wrapped his arm around hers, so they were walking with them linked. Just kind of... instinctively. And wondered why he was having to swallow so much all of a sudden.
"How's Jean, speaking of which? I'm guessing you never got around to..."
"No," He shook his head, another wave of shame suddenly threatening to pull him under again. "God, I feel like a dick, Rogue."
The goth girl shrugged, "I don't see why. You didn't know she was going to get her ass beat. And it's nice of you to stick with her and help her out like this. Even if you don't want to."
"I didn't say I didn't want to," he responded, far too sharply, he knew.
She raised an eyebrow at him. "I know. I was just saying, if you didn't, it wouldn't make you a bad person."
Swallow. Again. Scott looked straight ahead, and nodded, stiffly. "Yeah. I guess not. Sorry. I'm just worried. About you, about Gambit, about Jeanne-Marie and Jean-Paul. And Jean."
Jesus, Summers, defensive much?
"Don't worry 'bout me," she muttered, and even though he wasn't looking at her anymore, he could feel her rolling her eyes again. "Jean-Paul is the one who needs worrying about. Boy is definitely not dealing so well. Where the fuck is Pietro, anyhow?"
"No one knows," Scott admitted, grudgingly. He still wasn't too happy about that fact– the Maximoffs coming up missing when their father was in the same state was definitely not a good sign, no matter how he looked at it. He'd decided, overnight, that they'd either gone after him, or he'd come for them. One meant that they were idiots. The other meant that Magneto was a liar, and hadn't been kidnapped at all, but was hatching another nefarious plan to rid the world of humanity's influence. And neither boded well for Jean-Paul Beaubier, who happened to be his most immediate concern. Both as an X-Man, and as a friend.
And anyhow, he was happy to have a chance to get off the subject of himself. Him and Jean. Him and Rogue. Which he was still reeling from, incidentally...
"I think Jean-Paul might know. But if he does, he won't talk until he's ready. You know him. And with JM crying and babbling in French all morning..."
Rogue was shaking her head– he could see it out of the corner of his eye. "I heard, when we got home. He was with her all day, huh?"
"Wouldn't leave until just an hour ago, when Hank kicked him and Warren out. But she was recognizing Warren too, so... I guess that's good. She didn't freak out about him, anyhow. And she was trying to tell Hank something. Jean-Paul just said she was talking about the Mutant Detection System non-stop, when she would speak. She's afraid to leave the house, thinks someone will hurt her for being a mutant. She's...," But he just shook his head, thinking of the stories he'd heard from the medlab today; none of them from Jean-Paul, most from Warren. Jean-Paul, as far as he knew, hadn't spoken to anyone but his sister and Hank all day. And Jeanne-Marie hadn't spoken a word of English, and only stopped crying just before she fell asleep, only to wake up crying again. Every time.
"She's lost it, is what you're saying," Rogue sighed, sounding defeated. "I feel bad for the girl, but honestly... sometimes I think it's harder on JP."
Scott gave a sad kind of half-laugh at that. "I know exactly what you mean."
"Guess it's good that she wasn't expected to go get into Ex-Gen with Warren then... can you imagine if this had happened to her there?"
He shook his head again, guiltily. So guilty, in fact, he almost couldn't choke out words. He'd honestly thought that JM could handle that kind of mission. He'd even recommended her for it. What if they'd listened to him? Jeanne-Marie would recover from her condition, this time. For all he knew, she was back to her normal self right this very moment. But he still felt horrible for his misjudgment. It could've cost Jeanne-Marie a lot more than just a bout with her disorder, and Jean-Paul... he didn't even want to think about what it would've done to Jean-Paul. "I don't even want to consider it. Anyhow, Warren can't even get in now. There's still no word from Ex-Gen, and Warren is starting to freak out."
"Remy wants to break in, get the info that way. He says they're probably on to Warren, by now."
Scott felt his eyebrow shoot up in alarm. "No. No way. Forget it."
She shrugged, "It's what he does, Scott. He's a thief. And a damn good one."
"No way. If he blows it, he blows our entire shot at cracking this open. And last time he tried to sneak around with Sinister involved, he got ripped open. Forget it," He stated, emphatically. But it made him nervous, just the thought of it. Because Remy LeBeau seemed like the kind of guy that even if you told him, flat out, no... if he wanted to hear yes, he'd go and do it anyhow.
"Don't rule it out before you see what we have to work with, Scott," she said, shaking her head. "I don't like it either, but I think Gambit learned his lesson the first time. I don't think he'd get caught twice. And I do think he'd die before he gave away any information about us."
"How can you know that?" Scott sighed, frustrated beyond belief with the entire question of Gambit. The whole thing was just... ridiculous! In fact... yeah! It made him mad. "He's a thief, a kidnapper, a stalker, and a former Acolyte. He's not to be trusted. You, the Professor, even Logan now... everyone seems to think it's just fine to let him stay here with the X-Men, all at once. Why?"
Rogue smiled at him, oddly enough. "Damn, Scott. You want to talk about it?"
And suddenly, he found himself grinning back. Wryly but... well he didn't really feel like he was holding a pressure cooker in his head anymore, anyhow. Maybe he had sounded a little like he needed some therapy there... "Yeah... heh... guess I do."
She gave a snort, and rolled her eyes again, but was still smiling. "All we can do is wait him out. I just get irritated with him, because he confuses me. But I know... I know he won't sell us out, ever. He never sold Magneto out. He still won't. Not to Sinister, and not to the X-Men. And his family... I just... I understand him, when it comes to this."
For some reason, Scott hated the sound of that. He made an annoyed face, he knew he did, but he couldn't stop it. So he just looked away from her, instead, and kept walking. "So then, you do trust him?"
"I wasn't sure at first... but I trust him to be an X-Man, yeah. Whether or not I trust him with me... no, Scott. I don't. Two very different things, though."
She had a point, really.
But that didn't mean he had to agree. "I'm not convinced, Rogue. But I guess I can give him a shot. He screws up one time and–,"
"Ok, Mr. Military," She was rolling her eyes again, "I get it. You got my back."
He looked down at her, walking next to him, on his arm in that over-sized sweater that didn't match her goth makeup and clothes at all... and smiled. Because really... "Yeah. I do."
And everything else that was crashing in... he would handle that too. He just needed to think it through. And everything would be ok...
* * *
Alex was stressed.
Super hella stressed, in fact. Ray was being moody and never wanted to hang out anymore, which of course led to a massive bout of paranoia for Alex. Naturally, the surfer-boy figured that Ray had probably found out about his stupid, impossible to shake crush on him, and was freaking out about it. Jean-Paul was a wreck thanks to Pietro disappearing (at least, that was what everyone was saying), and his sister being stuck in the medlab after being jumped at NYS by mutant haters, so he sure as hell couldn't go to him for one of their little talks. And Scott had been a wreck for almost two weeks now, over Jean. He hadn't told his little brother it was because of Jean, per se, but Alex wasn't stupid. Jean was never around, and Scott never talked about her anymore. That was all the indication he needed. Bobby, Sam, and Roberto were still kinda out of the loop, even though Alex had slipped up around Bobby the other day and said something about a guy on TV being hot.
Not that he even thought of it as slipping up anymore. Just that he hadn't really said anything to his friends, per se, aside from Ray. He didn't care if they knew, he just didn't so much feel like having a nice big coming out party. Announcing to a roomful of New Mutants, "Hey everyone, I'm gay!" Didn't really seem like his style.
Although the prospect of it did make him laugh, at least.
Anyhow, the point was, he wasn't sure who to talk to. And once again, he needed to talk. Or to surf. And that was pretty much out, in November in New York.
Maybe the coming out party wasn't such a bad idea after all.
He hit the bottom of the stairs just as the door opened, and he saw Scott holding the door open for Rogue as they came in, seemingly from a walk to somewhere or other. Scott was in a plain white T-shirt and khakis, not terribly abnormal, even though the day was cold, but Rogue looked... funny. She had on Scott's stripey sweater over her tiny skirt. And she had Scott's arm wrapped around hers.
Dude. Weird. They totally looked... like a couple.
Alex considered this, as the two talked a little longer and Scott closed the door behind them. But Rogue started off toward the basement soon, and Scott turned around and started coming in the direction of the stairs.
And only then did he notice his kid brother, standing there, watching him.
Alex smiled brightly, noticing that Scott didn't look quite as annoyed as he had looked in the recent past. "Heya bro. How you doing?"
Scott stepped up to stand next to him, and leaned on the banister on the other side of the stairs. "Not so great, kid. How about with you?"
Alex adopted a similar position, leaning on his own railing, turning to face his brother. After he'd done it, it struck him just how much alike he and Scott probably looked right then, despite the fact that their features were almost totally dissimilar. But the way they were standing, unconsciously, was almost exactly the same. One arm on the banister, one leg crossed over the other. They were even kinda built the same– broad shoulders that tapered down to deceptively slim hips and long legs.
Heh. Never noticed that before really. Guess there was no denying some things.
"Jean ok?" He asked, not feeling much like beating around the bush. It hadn't only been bothering him that he had no one to talk to about his stupid issues with Ray. In fact, an equal or greater part of the frustration was that there was nothing he could do for either of the older boys he trusted so much– Scott and JP. Scott was always busy, running around, angsting. And Jean-Paul... well, he knew better than to just walk up to Jean-Paul and expect him to spill his guts. Dude was definitely not into that scene. And Alex liked his jaw right where it was, so he wasn't about to piss the guy off.
Scott nodded, slowly. "Yeah, I think so. She's still feeling guilty. Thinks it's her fault, about Jeanne-Marie."
Alex honestly... didn't like Jean that much. She was very capable, smart, pretty. She was probably the perfect girl, in fact. But damn... she was a bitch. Of course, so was Jean-Paul. But JP seemed to have some redeeming qualities, hidden under there. And JP hadn't been fucking his big brother over, emotionally, for the past few weeks either. Which was the real reason Alex didn't much care for her. "Well, it's not," he shrugged, still managing some kind of sympathy for her plight, despite his dislike of her. He never could manage to be outright mean to the people he disliked. Even when he tried to be, he usually forgot once he was around them. "She gonna be ok?"
"I think once JM is ok, Jean will be," His head was still shaking, in a very strange, unfamiliar admission of... helplessness on the part of his brother. "She just needs to realize that things like this are going to happen– the secret is out, and mutants are known to everyone. We're going to be feared. We're going to be hated. We're going to be abused. And sometimes... we're going to get hurt."
Alex felt his brow furrow, as he considered the total downer Scott had just brought to his attention. "Dude... that's so hella lame."
A crooked, half-baked smile appeared on his brother's face. "Yeah. It is hella lame."
"So uh...," The surfer-boy looked over his shoulder once, to make sure she was long gone before asking, eager to change the subject. Like he wanted to think about that right now. Add depression to stress, great idea. "What's with you and Rogue?"
One of Scott's eyebrows shot up, and Alex could see the eyes behind those ruby shades dart to where the goth girl had last been, before coming back to him. "Long story. I'll tell you some time. But... nothing, man. There's nothing."
"Didn't look like nothing," Alex grinned, pleased at the prospect of having some Scott time. They hadn't really talked since they'd sorted out the whole thing about Scott's reaction to his... orientation. It had been a good talk, he felt a lot better about it, obviously. But... well half the reason he was here was to hang out with Scott, really. Brothers had to stick together, after all.
Scott actually laughed, and shook his head, "Didn't feel like nothing, I guess. We'll talk soon, ok? You look like you could use it. I gotta go find the Professor and Warren right now, though. Busy tomorrow after school?"
"No, man."
"We're going for pizza. I'll pick you up."
Alex nodded, still grinning, as his brother started to ascend the stairs.
And found that he felt a little better, suddenly.
Ok so, Scott was there. Maybe he could let the guy talk a little, alleviate some of his stress. On that thought, Alex took off for the kitchen, suddenly feeling a very strong need for a little Phish Food ice cream, which he'd stashed there last weekend. Assuming Bobby hadn't gotten to it first. That kid and the amount of ice cream he could eat were just... disturbing. And then there was Kurt, who would eat anything...
He turned the corner into the kitchen, and saw the other guy he'd kinda been wanting to talk to for about a week now, Jean-Paul. Sitting at the table, slumped low. Staring at a glass of milk as if he'd never seen such a thing before.
"Um... dude, did the milk do something funny, or are you just staring through it?"
The speedster looked up, sharply, and opened his mouth as if to retaliate.
Alex braced for impact, suddenly wishing he'd kept his mouth shut.
But Jean-Paul closed his mouth, just as quickly as he'd looked up, and blinked at Alex. Once. Twice.
Alex shifted, nervously. Uncertain. Dude...
"It does tricks, I swear I saw it," JP finally drawled, in the driest tone of voice Alex could ever remember hearing from him. He was surprised, in fact, that the darker boy wasn't spitting out sand with his words.
Wow. He must really be fucked up. JP just cracked a joke. And it wasn't at anyone else's expense.
Alex moved to the freezer, grinning just a little despite the obvious severity of his friend's situation, retrieved his Ben and Jerry's and then found two spoons in the drawer before returning to sit across from their resident speedster. Who was, he noted, still staring at the milk.
He dropped a spoon in front of the other boy, and started digging in, himself. "Have some sugar, man. I know you like it."
"Are you hitting on me, Alex?"
This time, the younger boy actually laughed aloud at JP's wry joke. "Guess that did sound kinda bad. You want some sugar, baby?"
"I do," Jean-Paul answered, picking up a spoon listlessly, retrieving himself a giant mound of chocolate and marshmallows, and staring at it with the same intensity with which he'd been staring at the milk.
Alex just shook his head, still laughing, but kind of sadly. He melted the ice cream in his mouth, precisely the way he always did, then swished it around a little bit. Then chewed up the chunky bits of chocolatey fish-shaped things. As he did so, he considered the boy sitting across from him, carefully.
Dude had really helped him out, a while ago. It kinda seemed stupid, now, how freaked out he'd been. But he'd honestly been afraid that there was something wrong with him, when he couldn't stop thinking about Ray being naked and possibly wet or covered in some kind of edible substance or...
Right. Not the time or place for that.
But anyhow, yeah. JP had totally helped him feel more... normal again. And it kinda hurt, to see dude looking so... sad. JP never looked sad, usually. It wasn't his style. Pissed off. Irritated. Even amused, yeah. But never sad. Never... well, vulnerable.
And dude was definitely looking vulnerable, at the moment. As instinctively wrong as it seemed. "So... how's JM?"
At first, there was no reply. And Alex felt his heart speed up, just like it always did when he was feeling particularly intimidated. JP was weird like that. He could either be the nicest, most approachable, funny dude in the world, or he could be the most impossible, scary bastard ever. And it could change without notice.
The surfer-boy shifted in his chair, uncomfortably. And stared into the vat of ice cream hard. Maybe he should just like... leave.
But after a moment that felt like an hour, Jean-Paul finally said, "I think she'll be ok soon. She feels ok, you know? In my head. Not completely better but... fuck."
And with that, the Canadian X-Man jammed his spoon violently back into the Phish Food, and came back up with a huge pile of chocolate. Which he immediately shoved into his mouth.
Alex would've laughed, if he wasn't so worried. Jean-Paul was so fucking weird sometimes... funny when he was at his most pissed off... or depressed... or whatever. Dude made no sense at all. "It's ok dude. I mean, I just wondered if you were... alright and stuff. You don't need to talk about it, don't."
Jean-Paul looked up now, mouth full of chocolate, blue eyes latching on to Alex's with his usual intensity. The guy was just a walking contradiction today. His eyes were so... intense. Freezing and burning, at once. And he was sitting there with his cheeks puffed out and full of ice cream, at the same time. Alex watched, with a strange sort of awe creeping over him, as it sometimes did when he talked to the older boy, as Jean-Paul swallowed once, then finally said, "I don't think I want to talk about it, no. But the ice cream is good."
Understandable. So Alex nodded at him once, and licked off his spoon. Sure, he wanted JP to feel like he could talk to him. But obviously... JP didn't. He'd started to... but he'd stopped. But at least he hadn't kicked him out of the kitchen.
So the two boys sat in a mostly-comfortable silence, until the pint was finished off.
* * *
Warren tried to walk calmly down the hallway. Tried not to race. But he'd been informed that he could see Jeanne-Marie again, now that she was awake, and... he could hardly wait.
Of course, she hadn't spoken a word to him since she'd become coherent again, just babbled to her brother in their strange Quebecois dialect that he could only decipher a few words of. She'd spent most of her time clinging to Jean-Paul, in fact. But JP (or, as some of the younger mutants seemed to refer to him, Dude Beaubier...) had been surprisingly alright with his presence, since his sister had recognized and accepted him at first sight when she woke up.
He was particularly grateful for that. Hank had warned him that she may not know him, that there was a possibility she would have shut down part of her brain, or that one or more personalities might have been damaged temporarily, or various other horrible situations that could possibly occur for someone like Jeanne-Marie after a traumatic experience. But when she'd reached out for him... when she'd said his name...
He had let himself believe it was going to be ok. His heart had stopped beating for a moment, his breath hitched, almost painfully. But he let himself believe.
Jean-Paul hadn't said much, just a few muttered words here and there, when he needed something for JM, or had to stretch, or leave the room for a few moments. Warren was dying to ask him a million questions, but the younger boy's stormy face was more than enough advertisement for silence. For respect, really. Angel hadn't really noticed it before, but he did, in fact, have a strange sort of respect by association for Jean-Paul Beaubier. He was JM's brother, of course, which was enough in itself... but he liked the way the other boy always seemed so composed. Even though he looked ready to cry now and then, Jean-Paul had still been a hell of a trooper through the whole ordeal. Warren had tears in his eyes more than once, feeling her tiny, cold hand in his, listening to her mumble in Québécois as JP tried to soothe her, futilely.
It just... it wasn't the Jeanne-Marie he knew. She was strong. She was brilliant. She was in a class above every other person he'd ever met in his life, in her capacity to overcome any obstacle thrown in her path, and to make it look easy.
But, he realized, it was Jeanne-Marie. It was a part of her. Not a flaw, this disorder. Just another part of what made her who she was. And he'd have to love her for it. Not in spite of it.
He could do that, he'd decided, rather quickly. He just needed time.
And he just needed to see her.
He reached the door to her private room in the medlab, after what seemed like an eternity, and raised his hand to knock... but stopped when he saw that she already had company. In the form of a slim, dark boy. Her ex-boyfriend, in fact. Roberto DaCosta.
His first reaction was Oh my god, she's going to be ok! She was talking to someone! Obviously in plain English! She was sitting up, nodding, without hanging on her brother for support. She was going to be ok!
Not that he'd thought she wouldn't... just... god... god, she was ok. It felt like his heart started beating again, like his blood started to pump. He hadn't even realized he'd felt that it had stopped but... he had. And now... it was going to be all right. His hopes were fulfilled, and it was all going to be all right.
But his second reaction was Oh my god, what's he doing in there?
Involuntarily, Warren furrowed his brow. He didn't know the kid at all, of course. Other than to know that he was one of the New Mutants, called Sunspot, and he was ridiculously strong when charged up with solar energy. And he thought he was a player.
Which was fine, as far as Warren was concerned. As long as he wasn't playing with Jeanne-Marie.
She was smiling at the Brazilian boy, and speaking now. Damn, she'd come out of her trance and he hadn't even been there. She was talking to her ex-boyfriend instead...
Who, he reminded himself, was roughly 16 years old. Way too young to be a threat. Warren was 20 years old, after all, far more mature, considerate... well, anyhow, he definitely loved her more. Could love her more. Wanted to love her more?
Hell. Whatever.
Jeanne-Marie suddenly looked up, and caught sight of him at the window, his hand poised to knock. Pale blue eyes met his through the glass... and she smiled.
He waved, and nodded his head to the side, as if to say, "I'll be right here."
She nodded, a barely visible motion, still smiling, and looked back to Roberto.
He imagined she did so reluctantly, even though she probably hadn't. It helped ease the twinge of jealousy he was feeling at the moment, however. He stepped away from the door, and looked around the medlab, feeling slightly lost. What should he do? Stand around in the clinic and be annoyed with DaCosta for seeing his girlfriend before he had? Wait... no.
Not his girlfriend. Who ever said that Jeanne-Marie was his girlfriend? She hadn't. But... well she acted like it. They acted like it. He wanted it.
But his internal diatribe was interrupted by the quiet beep of his cell phone from his pocket. He'd forgotten he'd turned it back on, once he'd gone upstairs to let JM sleep. He knew he had about five messages, three of which were from his parents in London, whom he'd been avoiding even more than usual lately...
Ottawa, Ontario, the caller ID said.
Warren shrugged to himself, and hit the green button that would answer the call. "Warren Worthington."
"Mr. Worthington," A familiar voice, a voice that just sounded like its owner was smiling, came over the line. "Hello. Walter Langkowski here."
Of course! He'd spoken to the doctor not a few days ago about a project he'd worked on, one funded by Worthington Industries, and Xavier had given him that number for the man at his Department, where he now worked for the Canadian government. He seemed like a good sort, a nice guy who was completely unaware that he was a genius. The sort Warren could just imagine being completely content buried in a lab with piles of books and machinery, and not even noticing twenty years passing by. Guileless and clever and brilliant, with the youth and energy to make things happen.
And at least partially responsible for the creation of the very Mutant Detection System that Jeanne-Marie was now so terrified of.
But that wasn't his fault, of course. "Call me Warren, Doctor. Good to hear from you again. How goes the research?"
"Please, just Walter... or Walt," The Canadian laughed. "And it goes well. Just calling to update you on the project I was telling you about the other day. The genetic manipulation?"
Slowly, Warren nodded. The idea itself had, admittedly, freaked him out a bit. But if it worked, it would render any mutant completely undetectable by any kind of technology– making them appear just the same, genetically, as a flatscan human, without changing their genetic makeup enough to render their mutation ineffective. But he hadn't actually expected that it would ever... work. He'd told Langkowski to call him, however, if things got moving. A good man like this one was too rare to let fall into the hands of some nefarious corporation like ExGen, and if he needed to hire him himself, or at least fund his research, which Warren truly believed had the best of intentions, he'd do it. "Yes, I remember. You've had some success, then?"
"Total success!" He exclaimed, obviously overjoyed. "I've rendered myself and several volunteers completely undetectable to any form of MDS, both the common form and the experimental. It's been a breakthrough week."
Warren felt his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Really. Who volunteered for that experiment?"
A slight pause, then a mildly embarrassed-sounding, "I did it to myself first. The procedure is painless, it just requires some minor reconfiguration, and a bit of masking. I'd love to have you come and have a look at it, some time, if your schedule permits."
Figures. If only ExGen would call and tell him the same thing. But still... it did bear looking into. If this man had accomplished what he thought he'd accomplished... not that Warren would ever want to mask his mutation (well, from anyone but his family, but that was another story altogether...). But for someone who couldn't hide behind millions of dollars, or a place like the Xavier Institute, it could be a lifesaving technology.
At least, he should keep tabs on the technology. Lest it fall into the wrong hands. Lest Langkowski fall into the wrong hands. "I'd like to, Doc– Walter. In fact, my... girlfriend has recently had a bad run in with an MDS... so it's pretty personal right now."
Whoa. He hadn't even realized it until he'd said it but...
Ok, so maybe that had a lot to do with his interest. He could make it sound business-like all he wanted, but at the end of the day...
"I'm sorry to hear that," The doctor sounded truly apologetic, and disappointed. "If she wanted to undergo the procedure, I can assure you it's perfectly safe. My mutation is still completely active, as are the mutations of all the others–,"
"I don't know that it'll be necessary," Warren said quickly. For some reason the idea of this man undergoing his own procedure was fine. But the idea of Jeanne-Marie undergoing it was just... disturbing. "But I appreciate the thought. I have an upcoming trip planned, so I wouldn't be able to make it to Ottawa for a few weeks, I'd think–,"
But JM's door was opening now, slowly, and he could hear voices coming from inside. Roberto was backing out, nodding at whatever Jeanne-Marie was saying to him.
"But I'll definitely be in contact before then. Thank you for letting me know. I'm sorry to cut this short but she's–,"
"I understand," Walter was chuckling. "I caught you at a bad time. Go be with her."
"Thanks," Warren sighed, watching Roberto closely. But then, it suddenly occurred to him that he had no idea what sort of mutation this super-genius doctor guy had. So he asked, "One more thing, if you don't mind. And if you don't want to answer, I completely understand. But... what is your mutation?"
"Oh, of course. I turn into Sasquatch, effectively. Interesting, eh?"
Warren actually laughed. That was about the last answer he expected from this well-spoken young inventor and scientist. "That's one word for it."
"You?"
"I have wings."
"Impressive. I hope to speak to you again soon, Warren."
"Same here. Thank you for the update."
"Of course. Good luck with the girlfriend."
Warren smiled, and hung up. And Roberto turned around, and looked him in the eye.
The blonde man nodded, slightly. He didn't have anything much to say to the kid, after all. The flash of jealousy was gone, after the strangely heartening conversation with Langkowski. And anyhow, JM was better. Everything would be ok.
He just needed to get in there and see her.
Roberto nodded in return, however, and then his dark eyes fell to the floor. He walked silently past the older boy, after that, without a word.
And Warren actually felt a sudden, strange twinge of sympathy for the boy. Because it occurred to him, when he saw the pained expression on the New Mutant's face, that Roberto DaCosta knew exactly what he was missing.
But it was his turn now, and he couldn't wait any longer, so he made his way into the small room, closed the door behind him, and went to Jeanne-Marie's side instantly. Smiling like an idiot. "JM, I'm so glad you're feeling better," He gushed, Langkowski and DaCosta completely gone from his mind the moment he entered the room, saw her pale but smiling face. He wanted to say so many other things, he knew he sounded like an idiot...
But he couldn't think of anything important, or impressive to say, at the moment. And he didn't much care.
"I'm ok, Warren. The Professor told me what happened. I don't remember, but he says I've been crying... my eyes feel like it though," She gave a sad smile, and reached out her hand for his.
Immediately, he complied, and took the tiny hand offered to him. Rather clumsily, he thought. And he nodded, "Yes, crying. Jean-Paul and I have hardly left you, until just now."
"That's what Berto said," She told him, quietly. "He said he wanted to come see me, but he's too frightened of both of you."
Warren wasn't sure how to react to that. Certainly explained the kid's unwillingness to look him in the eye for very long, of course. And obviously he had reason to be afraid of Jean-Paul...
"Intimidated, maybe, is the better word," She amended, with a smile that Warren could only classify as saintly.
"He misses you," he said, before he could stop himself.
She nodded, "A little, I think. He's fine though. Who were you talking to?"
Right. JM had just awakened, after all. They didn't need to be talking about ex-boyfriend issues, and they certainly didn't need to launch into her injuries and episodes right then. Calm conversation was what she needed, to make her feel more comfortable. He shook his head, to clear away the lingering doubts and issues there, and replied. "This Canadian doctor, Walter Langkowski. He just called to let me know about some research of his."
And of course, once he'd said it, he realized that he'd told her about Walter before. And she knew what kind of research he was involved in. And that was definitely not a subject she needed to be reminded of, as fragile as her mind must be at the moment. Her eyes went wide, and her mouth opened. But she didn't speak.
Fuck. Real bright, Worthington. You complete idiot!
But she recovered quickly, and asked, "Has he had success with his research?"
Slowly, Warren nodded. And squeezed her hand. She was a good girl, a strong girl. She would be ok. "Very much so. He thinks he's found...," Shit. How much to say? How much to say? "He thinks he can mask mutant DNA to the point that no detection system can pick up on it, in a given subject. He's used it on himself and a few others already. He wants me to have a look, and I think to fund him. The government has obviously done all they're prepared to do for that particular project of his."
He watched her as she processed this information. Slowly, carefully. And her face changed once again. To determined. "I see."
"Are you feeling up to a walk? Hank said you would be ok if you wanted to get up and move around, as soon as you seemed to be... back to yourself. Maybe some fresh air would feel good?" He offered, both to try and get her out of the medlab, and off the subject.
But she blanched instantly, and seemed to shrink in on herself. "I... I'd rather not leave the house. Maybe... maybe tomorrow, Warren."
He swallowed hard, and nodded.
It was going to be ok, of course. But these things took time. It was stupid to expect it to suddenly be all back to normal, after all...
God. He just wanted it to be all back to normal.
* * *
Pietro Maximoff looked out the window and down. And saw nothing but blue.
Flying didn't bother him. It was more the being confined on an airplane for thirteen fucking hours that did. And then the eight connecting flights after that.
Oh, and the fact that he was heading back to the middle of nowhere in the mountains of Transia, to a little town he hadn't been to in years, to parents who probably thought he was dead, with a sister who was a walking time bomb, toward a father he hated and feared.
Fuck. This really wasn't the best day of his life. Not really.
He looked to his left, where Wanda was glancing around nervously. She did that every so often. She didn't like being confined any more than he did. For him, it was a function of his mutation. For her, it was probably a function of the fact that she'd spent the better part of her young life confined. Even if she didn't remember, he wouldn't be surprised at all if she had a natural, horrible reaction to being trapped.
And it made him even more nervous.
This was stupid. This was the fucking stupidest thing he'd ever done in his life. Jean-Paul should've stopped him. Jean-Paul was supposed to be his conscience, right? Ok, so he wasn't quite as quick as Pietro, but he was smart, dammit. Why would he let them go?
Well, really, Pietro had wanted him to let them go. That was the whole point of telling Jean-Paul in the first place. Jean-Paul would understand, and no one else would.
Well, ok, that was the excuse to tell Jean-Paul. Really, he'd just had to tell him. Unexplainably, he'd had to tell JP.
But still, stupid Canuck could've put up a little fight, at least.
Whatever. Enough about JP. Jesus. Obsess much?
"Stop that."
Pietro looked over, surprised at the sound of Wanda's low voice rumbling beside him. She hadn't said two words in five hours. It was making him insane. "Stop what?"
"You're tapping your foot. I'm about to hex the shit out of you, if you don't fucking stop it." Wanda was looking straight ahead, jaw clenched, hands curling into fists, then uncurling, repeatedly.
Pietro realized, at that point, that he actually had been tapping his foot. Really fast. So he stopped. "Oh. Sorry."
He watched her for a moment longer, as the muscle in her jaw relaxed, as she blinked a few times, and her shoulders seemed to slump just a little. In complete silence. Uncomfortable silence. He didn't want silence anymore.
"What are you thinking about?"
"I'm trying to remember Transia."
"Oh," He breathed. That wasn't what he'd expected for some reason. And definitely wasn't what he wanted. Sure, it was inevitable, most likely. But he'd like to keep her from hexing anything on an airplane. He'd seen what she could do to the subway, he definitely didn't need a repeat of that on the plane. Newsubjectnowplease! "Aren't you obsessing over Sam?"
She looked over at him, sharply. She narrowed dark blue eyes and growled, "What the hell are you talking about?"
He tried to move a little further from her, but the plane really didn't allow for that kind of movement. So he ended up just squirming instead. "Nevermind."
And then, surprising him again, Wanda just sighed. "Maybe a little."
"Ha!" He let out, triumphantly. "Seriously, sis, I never thought I'd see the day. I'm proud of you."
"Not as much as you're obsessing over Jean-Paul, so don't even start."
He blinked. Was it obvious? "I haven't said a word about him!"
"That's how I know. We don't talk much, Pietro, but you're still my brother. Sisters know this shit."
And he blinked again. Jeanne-Marie Beaubier had once said the same thing to him, pretty much. But he'd never expected it from Wanda. She wasn't a normal sister. They'd been separated, destroyed, fucked up beyond recognition since he really would've called them true siblings. Sure, there had been a time. But those days were long gone, whether she knew it or not.
He realized, with a sudden pain that was like a punch in the gut, that she didn't. She didn't remember any of it.
"Yeah. Yeah, that's true."
"You love him."
Pietro rolled his eyes, "What do you know about it? You hate everyone."
"I don't hate everyone."
"Except Sam."
"I don't hate you."
Pietro raised one eyebrow at her, and grinned. Well, of course, what wasn't to love. But still... "Sis, I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."
She grimaced, curling her upper lip. "Don't get used to it, Pietro."
"I wouldn't dream of it."
__________________________________
Yes, I'm a horrible person.
Ok, no. Seriously, I had a few weeks of hell there, but I'm cool now. Back in the saddle and all. Like I said, this will never be abandoned... I'm just slow sometimes.
Couple of little projects to announce. Lately I've discovered the joys of RP (which is probably responsible for keeping me writing, even though I was having a shit time of it), thanks to one run by Crimson Obsession and Idgiebay-- it's called Homo Inferior and you can find it at greatestjournal, just search for homoinferior. Still need a few players. It's journal style, and really laid back and chill. Very cool people there (you know who you are!) Also getting one of my own started with taekwondodo. It's at EZBoard, and it's called Project Bayville. That one hasn't gotten started yet, and you can find a link to it in my profile. Complicated, in a way. But should be a blast.
That said, on to the reviews!
crazyspaceystracey: I dunno about Genius, but I definitely try. Really hard. So glad you're enjoying the various relationships that are floating around here.
Shaman Dani: JP/Pietro moments haunt my dreams. Expect more from me... eventually ;) Yay for the snarky speedster warm-fuzzies.
Angharad: True... I'd have to find you. Damn. Oh well, I do hope you're still digging it!
Jacob: I know what you mean, half the time I start reading stories, and then life kicks me in the arse, and I disappear... hell I do that when it's my own story, apparently. But I'm so glad you like my Scott, that means so much coming from you (because yes, I think you're a fantastic writer). And my tension. God, I love tension!
RogueyMaximoff: Ahhh another convert to gay!Pietro. Well, not really, but yeah, when it comes to Jean-Paul... come on, who could resist ;) I'm really glad you're enjoying it, and hope you make it this far into the story! Thank you for the kind words.
The Rogue Witch: The Rogue/Gambit moment was leftover from Relativity. There were a lot of unanswered questions about why he had her number, etc. Now you know. And god... god I really don't think I could make Sam cry... I think I'd cry writing it. ;)
Taineyah: Oh yeah, the boys have crossed the boyfriend line. Glad you're digging it!
Relwarc: I was pretty concerned about making the transition for JP and Pietro to "romance." But really, it was bound to happen. Glad it wasn't so terrible. I agree, as you can see, that more Scott and Alex time is needed. I only hope I can do it justice. God, I love those boys.
TKD: I love you. That is all. You are so good to me, and so goddamn supportive all the time. Guh. 3
Caliente: Why yes... yes I did read the Gambit series! And the Assassination Game arc rules. It's sitting on my night stand right now, oddly enough. Anyhow, yes here is the chapter you asked me fore. Short, but coming down from the shit hitting the fan last time around. Hope it's enough! And... I'm sure I'll talk to you soon!
Namida: Yay you like my random ass couples! I hope my long absence didn't turn you off, and that you're still enjoying them. Thank you so much.
Akuma no Tsubasa: I'm glad the affection over sex JP/Pietro was so well recieved. Mostly, I don't think they'd know love if it knocked them over the head and introduced itself. But still... it happens. Totally on accident.
The-M: Miss you luv. Glad it's holding up to par, this story. Drop me a line next time you get some more good Tim/Kon, will you?;)
UniversalAnimeGirl: I am astounded that you can stil be reading even though I use so many of the things you are not commonly into, and think it's VERY open-minded of you that you continue to review. And not just review, but give insight regularly. Very, very sweet of you to compliment the Jean I wrote, and say you actually care for her. That is an accomplishment.
amura: Really, it's still getting better?! Guh... well this chapter might be a bit of a letdown, seeing as how it's a "take a breath" chapter... but still... more action to come! I do hope I don't disappoint!
Risty: Seriously SO glad the JP/Pietro wasn't too... trite. I mean, it was. It was meant to be in a way, meant to be a recognizable moment that any of us could experience. But... yeah. So glad it wasn't shit. And yay, the protest worked! Was hoping it didn't fall flat... REALLY hoping. Thank you so much for the encouragement.
And much love for Sue Penkivech, who is my badass beta. 3
And that's it, this time around! Back with more, hopefully faster this time ;) Love (come play with me!) -Beaubier