A/N: debatable-cerealkiller made fan art! This fic has fan art and it's amazing! A link can be found on my profile, please check out her amazing work! Also, shout out to my lovely beta, Linda Ku, for all her hard work!

To her surprise, sleep came easily to Fern. She slept deeply and soundly well into the afternoon, when Sean decided it was time to ruin her day.

After his knocking went ignored, the redhead took it upon himself to simply open the goddamn door, as apparently Hank had been right about him lacking boundaries. Poking his head inside, he whispered her name. "Are you up yet?"

The young woman didn't stir. She was sprawled out on top of her covers, one of her long legs kicked up to her chest and the foot of the other hanging off the bed. The pristine white pillow she was clutching was a stark contrast to her dark grey skin. For once her flesh was still and calm and Sean smiled at the sight of it. Admittedly, there was a lot of it to see, given her pajamas consisted of a pair of jockeys and an undershirt. Her scales caught some of the white from her clothing and pillow and reflected it in the sunlit room.

"Fern. Fern, wake up," The young man whispered as he approached the bed. When she slept on, he glared at her. It wasn't fair. Hank had woken him up at the crack of noon and here was Fern, sleeping soundly at nearly four p.m. Scowling, he didn't bother lowering his voice as he snapped, "Fern!"

Her corrugated toes twitched, but other than a slight moan and a flicker of acknowledgement from her skin, the young woman didn't move.

"Fern." He crossed his arms. "This is your last warning."

When the girl merely hugged the pillow tighter, Sean promptly fell onto the bed. As thin as he was, the redhead still managed to propel the sleeping girl about an inch off the bed.

The young woman bolted up with a squeak. Her eyes were wide and skin an array of swirls and flickers. Teeth bared, Fern hopped onto her hunches, ready to fight. When her eyes locked on him, she snapped, "What?! What's happening?!"

"Nothing." Sean grinned at her and stuck his hands behind his head. "Come back to bed, babe."

The girl stared at him. He seemed completely content, stretched out beside her and wearing a smile that was incredibly smug. Fern blinked at him. After a moment, her bewilderment turned to rage. Shoving him, the young woman growled, "Are you insane?! Do you know what I could've done to you?!"

"Put me in a coma?" The boy asked with a hint of nonchalance. He grabbed the pillow she had abandoned and hugged it to his chest with the corner of it tucked under his cheek. Partly to be a pest and partly to protect himself from her sharp fingernails. With an innocent bat of his lashes, Sean offered her a wide, closed mouth smile.

She didn't share his mirth. With firmly clenched teeth, she grit out, "Yes."

"Well you didn't and I'm not, so…" Sean smirked and patted the space beside him once more. "Come lay with me, gorgeous."

Fern scoffed and got off the mattress. Acutely aware of the fact that she was under dressed, she made her way to the dresser. Pulling her undershirt down at the back, her skin swirled with embarrassment as she yanked open a drawer. "Get out of my bed, Cassidy."

"Don't be like that."

Fern jerked a hand at him in a dismissive swat without bothering to look at him. "Get."

Sean sighed and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Pillow in his lap, he eyed her back with interest. The young man thought back to her hours spent in the trunk of the car. To how she had isolated herself from the group and how she had refused to back down from Shaw. He wondered how she had managed to sleep so easily; Sean spent the night tossing and turning, unable to get the image of Darwin disintegrating into dust from his mind. Concerned, he asked, "How'd you sleep?"

"Fine." Ignoring the flutter in her stomach at his casual, friendly attention, Fern grabbed a pair of jeans and slid them on. "You?"

Behind her back, the young man watched as the material skimmed and skipped over the thick glands on the outside of her thighs. Sean pouted as her ass was covered, wishing he had spent more time staring at it, than at her (admittedly dangerous, but still appealing) scutes. The lie came easily to him. "I slept great. My bed is way more comfortable than yours."

The brunette rolled her eyes. Turning to face him with a hint of annoyance, she asked just what the hell he was doing in her bedroom in the first place.

"You missed breakfast. And lunch. And dinner is in like twenty minutes," Sean explained as he stood. His hands slipped into the front pockets of his jeans as he shrugged. "I think Charles wants us to bond or something. He was all," The young man put on a posh, incredibly insulting British accent that earned a grin from Fern, "we need to learn to function as a team, Sean. Responsibility and well balanced nutrition, Sean, and then I just tuned him out."

Giggling, the grey girl ran her hand through her hair. With a shake of her head, she leaned back against the dresser. "That does sound like him."

"Well, my accent pales in comparison to yours, Miss Absolutely Not, but…" He let his voice trail off with a sheepish shrug. Now that she was relaxed, Sean let his expression open a bit more, let it become a bit more genuine and worried as he asked, "How're you feeling? After the trip and the…whatever was up with your skin. I didn't see you last night."

Fern crossed her arms. Said skin flickered with a hint of embarrassment as she peered down at her exposed forearms. Absently tracing one of her parotid glands with a sharp fingernail, she dropped his gaze. "It's alright. I mean, I can't always control it."

"I didn't ask how it was." The redhead frowned at her. Careful fingers reached forward and grazed one of the glands on her bicep. It was surprisingly soft, almost spongey. He had expected it to feel callous, given its stone-like appearance. "I asked how you were."

"I'm fine." Fern's skin rippled with the lie. His overly-friendly nature was still a bit unsettling to her, but not unwelcome. It didn't come across as a morbid fascination, or some kind of covert way to feel her up. All of Sean's movements and touches were relaxed and affable, and frankly, they kind of endeared him to her. Her skin mellowed into a slate grey as she sighed. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"I'm not Raven, babe." Sean smirked at her in a way that didn't reach his earnest blue eyes. Shaking his head, he told her, "That ain't gonna fly with me."

The young woman clenched her fangs together. Gaze firmly on the bed, Fern told him, "Next time it happens, I want you to promise you won't touch me or I can't promise I'll be able to have your back."

Sober, he nodded and let his hand fall. "I won't touch you." He winked at her and took her hand. "When you're spitting poison, anyway."

"Thank you." Fern gave his fingers a light squeeze and moved to let go when he pulled her into a hug.

Her entire body stiffened. His hold was careful and the hands cradling her lower back cautious as Sean rested his chin on her mostly bare shoulder. Worse, her chest pressed against his, jarring her chafed skin and reminding her that she was still braless. Thankfully, Sean didn't seem to notice.

"We've shared a bed, Fe." He snickered against her ear and ignored how erratically her skin swirled and stuttered. Sean was sort of surprised he could feel it; the slight change in the temperature of the scales, with the darker scales a touch cooler than the light. "You can give me hug before you send me off."

Fern lifted a hesitant hand to cup that back of his neck. Sean's body was long and lanky and she was a bit worried that she would crush him if she applied too much force. Still, the brunette gave him a quick pat on the back before she pulled away. Forcing a smile and ignoring how her skin twisted and churned through various shades of flustered embarrassment, she gave him a light shove. Licking her lips, Fern nodded and kept her head down. "There. Now get out."

"Alright." Sean nodded. Eyes soft and a bit proud, he backed away. "I'll see you downstairs."

She offered him a tight smile and sarcastic twiddle of her fingers as he shut the door. Flopping onto the bed, Fern tried desperately to swallow her nerves. She liked being around Sean, even if his actions were confusing. Fern wasn't deluded enough to think he was attracted to her. She had seen him with Angel and assumed him to be a bit of a tramp. Still his flirtations were nice, if not a little…pointless. They felt natural; calm and friendly, just like he was. His touches pushed her boundaries but didn't necessarily frighten her. At least, not as much as she would've expected them to. Sean was too nice to be afraid of.

With a groan, Fern forced herself off the bed and went to clean herself up.

By the time she got downstairs, only half of the group had gathered. The table they sat at was covered with food; enough pasta and salad and bread to feed a small army, which Fern supposed was exactly what they were. The adults, Charles, Erik and Moira, sat sipping tea beside Hank. He smiled tightly at her in greeting, but otherwise stayed silent. It was then that she noticed the file in front of him. Curious, Fern quickly eased onto the stool beside Erik, across from the scientist.

Tilting her head, she pointedly ignored the others as she asked, "What's that?"

Surprised, but clearly pleased, Hank smiled at her. "It's a compilation of our abilities. I thought it might come in handy to know everyone's strengths."

The young woman hummed as she popped her toes onto the brace of the stool. Knees bent, she hovered over the table and tilted her head. "Can I see it?"

"Sure." He slid it over to her.

Large blue eyes skimmed over the material quietly until she found her name. The list was short and concise (poison skin, wall climbing abilities, adopted) and she wordlessly held out her hand.

Hank stared at it. When she started making the universally known 'gimmie' motion that involved crooking her fingers at him, the scientist stuttered, "Uh..I- I don't…"

Charles chuckled from a seat across from him. "She wants the pen, Hank."

"Oh." Hank placed it in her waiting palm as Erik snickered into his mug of tea. "Well, she could've asked."

Fern ignored them. Especially Erik, who took the opportunity to lean over her shoulder to read what she was writing. Fangs grinding together, she shifted away from him as her skin trembled with discomfort.

"Erik," Charles said with a hint of firmness in his normally affable tone. When his friend glanced his way, he gave the taller man a slight shake of his head. Erik rolled his eyes, but let the girl have her space.

Unaware of the awkwardness, Sean and Alex strolled into the kitchen. Well, Sean strolled. Alex, still half-asleep, stumbled. The redhead grinned at the sight of Fern and quickly scored the seat beside her. "Hey, darlin. What'cha doin'?"

Beside her Erik chuckled and leaned a bit closer to her to ask, "Darling, hm?"

Teeth clenched so tightly it began to hurt, Fern quickly hopped off her stool. She looked to the redhead and demanded, "Trade me spots."

Sean eyed her skin, noting the tremble to it. Pursing his lips, the boy stood wordlessly.

"Oh, Fern," Erik teased with a wide, predatory grin. "Be cordial."

The grey girl ignored him and instead smiled at the redhead. Skin an array of black and white, she changed seats with Sean.

Evidently, Erik wasn't too fond of the switch. With a smirk, he casually pulled the chair out from under the younger man. Amused, he watched Sean tumble to the floor and ignored the others' shocked gasps (and Alex's cackle).

"Erik," Charles chided with a frown. "Was that really necessary?"

Casually lifting his mug of tea to his lip, Erik averted his gaze. Eyes crinkling with mirth, he replied stoically, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"He's talking about you being an ass," Fern clarified as she reached to help Sean stand. Her eyes softened as they switched from Erik to the lanky redhead. "You alright, Cassidy?"

The redhead fought the wince off his face and grinned at her. Clasping their hands, he let her pull him up and ignored the pain in ass. "It's cool, Fe. It was an accident…right, Erik?" His blue eyes slipped to Erik, cold in a way that completely contrasted the heat of his flushed cheeks.

"Right," the man drawled sarcastically.

Fern barely blinked as Raven breezed into the kitchen. "He's still an ass."

Sean gingerly sat down, keeping a firm hand between his thighs to keep his stool in place as he did. He smiled at the grey girl when she frowned at him, but merely asked her to pass the juice. The redhead took it from her and his expression dropped slightly. "Back to wearing gloves, I see."

Fern shrugged and picked the pen back up. Ignoring Sean, and the rest of the group, she went back to the file.

At the head of the table, Charles nodded to the blonde as she slipped into the seat between Hank and Alex. "Did everyone sleep well?" Before anyone could actually answer, he beamed. "Wonderful! Now, I've come up with a few trust exercises for us to do."

"Annnnnnd I'm out," Alex announced as he pushed away from the table.

"We have to learn to work as a team," The British man continued, pointedly ignoring him. "We need to trust each other, know each other. Our strengths and weaknesses."

Fern took the opportunity to add condescending and idealist next to Charles' name in Hank's file. When he glared at her, she added nosy. Smirking, Fern continued on through the file, editing it as she saw fit. She added loud to Moira's and lacks boundaries to Sean's. She put in that Erik was an egomaniac and that Alex needed space for his mutation. Vaguely, she was aware that the others had begun eating, but she ignored them. Fern made a note that her glands worked sporadically and what she need to keep them clean and then began a new list.

She put Angel's name at the top; immediately followed by traitor, short and wears an impractical amount of eye make-up. Fern added what she had seen of the brunette's mutation (insecticide wings and fire spitting) before adding the other names she had heard. Shaw (egomaniacal Nazi, stupid helmet, abilities unknown) and Azazel (under his name she just put teleporting communist, knife nut, because that was all she knew of him) were next before she found herself glaring at the page. She didn't know the name of the final member of Shaw's team, so she just put down SMUG BASTARD in big, capital letters with tornados underneath.

Fern hardly noticed Erik slipping into Hank's seat in front of her. "His name is Riptide. At least, that's what Schmidt calls him. He makes them with his hands."

Fern quickly jotted that down. It was then that she realized they were alone. Frowning, she asked where the others went.

"We're getting to know each other. One on one." Erik leaned back on the stool with a smirk. "I suppose Charles felt the need to pair us up because of the hostility between the two of-"

"I'm not hostile," Fern interrupted. Licking her teeth, she sniffed at him with distaste. "I just don't like you."

"I like you."

She scoffed at him. "You like my mutation."

"Well, you must admit it's rather…unique." His gaze touched her face in a way that left her stomach in disturbed knots. It reminded her of the doctors from her childhood, his obsession with her skin. Voice soft, and eyes dark, he finished, "Stunningly so."

The girl glared at him. "Where are the others?"

"Hank and Alex are off trying to make nice, as are Moira and Raven," he explained as he reached for his mug of tea. "I believe Charles and Sean are in the study." Wickedness gleamed in his bright eyes as he smiled. "We could go somewhere more comfortable if you like." Leaning forward, a touch, his gaze darkened and he moved to take the pen from her fingers. "A bedroom, maybe."

The young woman threw it at him. It stopped between them in midair. Skin rippling with rage, she sneered at him. "I'd rather eat glass than go to bed with you."

"Such a filthy assumption for such a lovely girl," Erik teased, but his eyes grew a touch cold. "Is it because I knocked your little boyfriend on his ass?"

Fern bared her teeth at him and pushed her stool back. "I think we're done here."

Grabbing a bowl of pasta from what was left on the table, she stormed out of the kitchen. His laughter followed her, echoing off the walls and leaving her sick.