TRIGGER WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER AGAIN. Same reasons as before.

Chapter 14: "Chance, No"

Chance was sure he was dehydrated after all that dancing, and he had the light headache that usually came from pushing a training session too hard. He was drinking water like a fish, though he was pretty sure Jamie was drinking something a little more substantial than that, the way she was hanging on him — so he had insisted they take a cab out to get dessert instead of taking Jamie's car.

The headache hadn't gone away, though, by the time Jamie directed their cab driver on just where to stop, and he kept rubbing his forehead absently as she tugged on his hand to get him to come with her.

He glanced up to see the ritzy hotel and frowned. "I told you I don't want to go overbo-"

"Oh, relax," she said. "We can go swimming, and the suite has a hot tub."

He shook his head. "Really, I thought we could just go out—"

"Look, it's already in our name. We can't not use it," Jamie said, looking totally put out with him as she pulled him to the checkout counter. "I blew half a month's paychecks on this! This is the one shot I get for the senior dance!"

At that, he almost groaned. "You really didn't have to do that."

"Well, I wanted to. You only get one senior year," she insisted. "And I heard the views of the city are to die for. Come on. You're supposed to be some big superhero — don't tell me you're tired out already!"

Chance shook his head lightly. It wasn't that he was tired — he just… had sort of been looking forward to getting back home. He hadn't really been home since the arrest, and while the dance was fun and everything, he wanted to go back…

He wanted to talk to Elin.

He knew it was ridiculous, and that he was literally right that moment on a date with Jamie, but seeing Elin with Gerry… He just… He knew if he didn't tell her how he felt, he was going to burst. And he hadn't even really asked Jamie to start hanging on him like she was.

He wondered if she knew. She was low-level telepathic, after all, so he couldn't help wondering if she knew he really wasn't interested, if she had picked up on his seething jealousy. And he really, honestly did feel bad about that. He had no one to blame but himself for not asking Elin out and for saying 'yes' when Jamie asked him to the dance. But still. He wanted to talk to Elin when he got back home, so he had been expecting just a restaurant, some ice cream maybe. Not… a hotel.

But Jamie had already waltzed off to go get them checked in and to confirm the reservations she'd made. And he did feel bad that she had spent all that money on the place. So he couldn't exactly figure out how to tell her that he just… wasn't that interested.

He grabbed a bottle of Gatorade from the vending machine while she checked them in, still with that same headache that was making it harder to think of a way to get out of the situation he'd found himself in, and he didn't say much as they got in the elevator to the upper floors where the suites were.

Jamie watched him out of the corner of her eye for a while, hanging on his arm so that she could more closely keep an eye on his mood, and then she pushed her lower lip out in a pout. "You're mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you."

"You are. I can tell. You always do this when you're mad at someone and don't want to hurt their feelings," she said, resting her chin on his shoulder. "It's too much, right? I went overboard?"

"It's fine."

She watched him for a second longer before she pulled on his hand to turn him and then kissed him hard, and the buzzing headache seemed to get a little stronger. For a second, he thought he could almost… feel something in the air. Or… he wasn't sure how to describe it. It didn't seem to mesh with any of his senses, and it was hard to figure out what it was when he was surprised at the fact that she was kissing him.

The elevator door dinged open, and even though Chance was still trying to figure out the headache he was fighting, he did have to admit when they got to the suite that the view was spectacular. There was a balcony that overlooked the whole city with its sparkling nightlife, and, as she'd said, there was a small jacuzzi out on the balcony as well. He had just turned to tell her goodnight and that he hoped she liked her stay at the hotel when she interrupted him with an enthusiastic grin and a bounce.

"Nice, right?" Jamie said, gesturing around the place. "I know, I know, you can thank me later," she added before he could say anything. Instead, she pulled him out onto the balcony, pulling on his shoulders so she could kiss him harder.

It was getting harder to order his thoughts with the headache growing, not to mention the other sort of buzzing in the air that was growing stronger as Jamie got more involved, with her hands in his hair as she pushed him back against the wall, only this time it wasn't just a sort of lingering feeling that he couldn't really place. This was definitely psychic — he'd been around it his whole life, after all.

Chance stopped and pulled back, blinking hard, trying to figure out where the psychic assault was coming from as it kept pulling at the corners of his mind. He figured he should probably get his guns at least, in case it was something bad, like Sinister — but Jamie looked annoyed and tugged on his collar to get his attention.

"What is up with you?" she asked.

He shook his head at her. "Sorry," he muttered, his attention clearly elsewhere as he glanced around for the source of the intrusion and reached for his comm. He could deal with the fact that she was kissing him later — it was more important that he figured out what the heck was going on at this hotel. "It's just — I'm pretty sure we're not alone."

"What?"

"There's a telepath here — some kind of…" But he trailed off when Jamie's annoyed expression turned into amusement and she started to laugh. "What?"

"That was me, you idiot!" she said.

He stared at her. "What?"

"I'm telepathic, remember?"

But he was frowning at her as he thought it over. "You've never been able to get into my mind before."

"What, and you think I can't get better at my powers? Didn't you grow up in a school? Come on, Chance," Jamie shot back, sounding downright insulted.

"Why are you even…" He frowned as he tried to reorder his thoughts. He didn't think she had breached his psychic defenses, but he did feel off, like he couldn't make connections from one thought to the next.

"I just wanted to have a little fun," she said, shaking her head before she pulled his head down so she could kiss him to keep from having to answer any more questions.

Chance honestly wasn't sure what to do at this point. He could hear Jamie knocking on his psychic defenses, but between the kissing and the knocking and the headache, he just couldn't form the thought to tell her he wasn't interested.

There's nothing wrong with having fun with my powers, she said, tugging on his lip with her teeth and pulling him backwards. The bobby pin at the top right.

He didn't even think about it as he pulled the pin and her hair came down from the updo, falling over her shoulders as she started to pull on his tie to get it undone. Any other surprises you want to tell me about?

No, was the simple reply. He could feel her still picking at the edges of the psychic defenses Rachel had taught him years ago. But I can tell you this is more fun if you let me in.

I don't… really… do that.

There's a clasp on the zipper, she told him, and he found that too. I'm not trying to find out what kind of toothpaste your precious X-Men use or anything. Just loosen up and have a little fun, huh?

Despite himself, he thought of Krissy, and he couldn't help but say, I know how to have fun.

Then trust me, would you? She grinned into the kiss she was giving him. If you don't like it, I won't do it again.

Chance frowned and started to pull back, but when he could feel just how disappointed Jamie was, like it was ringing in his own head until he was disappointed, he paused again. You won't be able to get into any locked doors in there, he told her.

I won't try. This is just… fun.

Chance paused a moment longer before he very carefully down his psychic defense, just barely enough to let her peek over the wall, and Jamie rushed in like a tidal wave, pushing everything else aside so that all he knew in that moment was exactly what she was thinking and feeling.

Which made the next part a whole lot easier.

It was quiet — most of the mansion was still asleep — as Elin got her coffee and settled in to try and wake up slowly. Everything had been bothering her about the mess that had happened with Jacob and all of the fallout at school after the fact. The whole school — and all of the teachers — knew she was a mutant, and someone working in the office had looked up her address and let slip that she was from the mutant school … paired up with a few intrepid junior reporters, it was really just a matter of time. They knew about her family.

And the shift had gone from the usual horrible stuff kids said to a new angle where some of the kids who just had nothing nice to say to anyone ever started in asking her if she was just bad enough at being anything like her parents that she couldn't go to the school.

It was high time for her to follow through on her plan and see if Scott would allow her to try and implement everything he tried to teach in human-mutant relations. Of course … that was going to be a fun conversation, and she wasn't about to crack open that can of worms unless she knew he was in a reasonably open mood to start with.

So that's where she was … sitting in the window seat in the kitchen near the coffee maker, sipping at her mug with her knees pulled to her chest as she watched the world outside wake up. Which meant she was there to see it when a red sports car pulled up the driveway and Jamie dropped Chance off — and he slipped in, still wearing the suit from the night before.

For an instant, Elin raised her eyebrows, but quickly let out a breath. "Of course."

When Chance came in from the garage, it looked like he had just meant to grab some coffee, and he obviously hadn't expected to see her there, because he stopped short and blinked at her for a second. "Oh. Hi," he said, suddenly flushing bright red.

"Hello," Elin said back, perfectly neutral in tone.

"I was just…" He gestured at the coffee.

"It's fresh. Help yourself."

He nodded lightly and went to go pour himself a mug. The bright smile he'd had on when he got inside was gone, but he was still moving around with some extra energy as he asked, "Want anything?"

"No, I'm fine," she said, shaking her head lightly as she watched him for a moment. "Thank you."

He grinned at her and nodded. "I'll just… go… upstairs then," he said, gesturing vaguely toward the door leading to the stairs before he took his coffee with him, still fairly red around the cheeks.

She frowned at his back as he left, her nose scrunched up slightly at the scent that flat out didn't belong there. Burning plastic tainting the otherwise pleasant scent of sandalwood, motor oil, and sunshine … but … he was in high spirits, so she wasn't about to touch that with a ten foot pole if that's what he wanted to do with himself.

It wasn't like he didn't know about what boost did, and with his appearance and the other scents stuck to him, it was clear that her original outlook of being Chance's placeholder was still solidly true. And considering how their dance ended — and how Chance's date obviously ended — Elin was feeling pretty used. And she thought it was a pretty crappy way to handle a friend, honestly.

But that just meant she wasn't in a mood to play overly nice when Scott finally did show up. "Do you have a few minutes?" Elin asked, skipping over her usual quiet good morning.

Scott raised an eyebrow at the quick hello. "Of course," he said. "Mind if I bring coffee?"

"We can do it right here if you like. I'm not hiding anything."

"Alright. What's on your mind?" Scott asked with a small frown.

She took a deep breath and met his gaze. "I told you that I was more or less outed at school — for everything, right?" When he nodded, she simply pushed forward. "I want to put your lectures into action. I already talked to Dad … I'm dropping the mask for missions."

Scott looked stunned to hear it. "Your dad okayed that?"

"He said he'd rather that we knew for sure if there was an interested party rather than get blindsided if they figured it out before I took the mask off. It's gotta happen sooner or later anyhow." She tipped her head. "He's not thrilled, I won't lie, but he understands where I'm coming from. The kids at school have already figured out who my parents are. If someone decides to tip off the wrong people …" She blew out what was left of her breath and pushed her coffee cup away from herself. "But that's not really … I mean, I've already decided that part. I wouldn't have done that without at least telling you about it first."

Scott was frowning, but he nodded along lightly. "Alright," he said slowly.

"I want to start wearing my jacket publicly outside of missions," Elin said. "If we're going to try to reach out to people … then I want to reach out. I don't want to drop out of the public school. Not without making sure that the stupid crap that people say isn't totally debunked first."

At that, Scott almost smirked. "You want to make them eat their words," he said, the understanding hitting him with her expression.

"That is the 'fight me' way of saying it," she said.

Scott smirked wider at that. "Isn't it accurate?"

She cleared her throat and carefully folded her hands over each other on the table. "Yes. But also … I want to do it without cracking skulls open if I can manage it." Her eyes flashed for an instant. "The way they talk about my family makes me want to just … pull every dirty trick I know. But that just proves them right. So …"

Scott nodded. "You just need to be careful — this will put more of a spotlight on you."

"It also makes it easier for me to not see how many teeth I can shove down their throats when I have a reminder of why not to."

"It's always good to have a reminder like that," he agreed, watching her carefully. He took a deep breath and let it out. "I don't see why not," he said at last. "You're one of the only ones on the team who's left to hide their identity, seeing as the other two are an elf and an alien and Gerry looks so much like his dad."

"I also kind of think that publicly showing the town that we're not trying to be our own little commune might help with the local PR," Elin said a little quieter. "I know it's always been a matter of not causing trouble and keeping to ourselves … but it's getting bigger than that now."

"It is," he agreed. "To be honest, I was thinking about doing more myself, publicly." He smiled at her. "Hopefully not as disastrously as the last United Nations visit."

"I thought that was excellent," she said. "Half of the kids at school have a snippet of it on their cell phones."

"If I could reliably say that Logan will shut down a politician every time I take him somewhere, I'd put him on public relations," Scott smirked. "And he would never speak to me again."

"He'd hate it," Elin said with a smile. "So. Much."

"I know," Scott said with a nod. "But you're right; there's too many of us now to stay isolated. And the isolation is part of why governments are getting away with their programs — no one outside the community is really aware of it."

She was nodding along to that. "I'll carry both comms," she said. "Because … you know James finally finished the new ones. And he thinks you might like them alright."

At that, Scott broke into an honest smile. "I'm sure I will."

She got to her feet and took a few steps over to give him a hug. "Thank you for hearing me out."

He grinned and hugged her back. "That's what I'm here for," he pointed out.

Chance was surprised when he got back to Canada that he was once again called back to the liaison's office since, well, it hadn't been three weeks, he hadn't gotten into any trouble, and if anything, he was doing better in all of his classes without the extra time spent working on the suit — though he'd be lying if he said he wouldn't have swapped all his A's and B's for the suit. In a heartbeat.

It had already been a weird weekend, too, because he had somehow wound up sticking with Jamie, which… he hadn't really expected. But after the dance and everything that had happened, he honestly couldn't just… drop her either. He'd let her push him too far, and he'd have to set some boundaries with her, but he couldn't just …

Yeah, he'd really screwed this up somehow, and he still wasn't entirely sure how he'd done it. Not that it hadn't been fun — and a whole new experience sharing minds… Which he also wasn't entirely prepared for either. And he'd be lying if he said he didn't want to do it again, because it really had been something else. Maybe not… maybe not with Jamie necessarily... but it had been indescribable getting lost in someone else like that.

It just… wasn't what he had been expecting. And he was still trying to figure it out. And he had no idea how he'd gotten himself into it or what he was supposed to do about it or how to get out of it again. So talking with the government wasn't exactly high on his list of priorities at the moment.

But on the other hand, it would be nice to get into the suit, and he had to get these guys to sign off on that first so he could fly.

So, he did his best to push aside getting hung up on how weird the whole weekend had been and how he still wasn't really sure what he had been thinking after the dance — literally, he couldn't remember his own thought processes — and headed to the office, where he was surprised to see that it wasn't Horton but someone he'd never met before. The guy was incredibly old, wearing glasses, and in a wheelchair.

"Mr. Summers," the man said. "It's long past time that you and I had a little word."

Chance raised both eyebrows. "I'm sorry; I don't think we've met?"

He smiled up at him and extended his hand. "Jerry Box. Pleasure to meet you." He gestured to the chair across from him. "Please, have a seat."

Chance sat down across from him with a frown. "Can I ask — is there any reason Mr. Horton isn't here or …?"

Box smiled slightly. "I'm a few steps over Mr. Horton's head, young man."

Chance frowned deeper at that, wondering what he had done to get himself involved at an even higher level.

"No need to look so serious," Box said. "I'm here to speak with you about a suit. I am the one who pioneered that entire concept, after all. Mac Hudson simply made it much more … effective."

Chance relaxed when he heard it and couldn't help but smile. "Oh," he said, nodding. "Alright, yeah. I don't mind telling you: it's kind of amazing."

"It truly is," Box agreed with a crooked sort of smile. "But they take time to plan out, and before we can consider that, I'm afraid I have to find out what it is you think a suit should be capable of. It's a little bit different for those of us without superhuman abilities."

Chance nodded along. "I can get along fine without the powers, to be honest," he said. "I just … if you're worried about cost, I really just want to be able to fly, and have the backups in place so my body can handle it-"

He waved his hand at that. "Not what I was concerned with. I just meant in addition to flight and a force shield … you'd need some kind of protective measure … offensive means …"

"I'm a crack shot," Chance said. "And I know how to use swords."

"So I've been told — with the firearms anyhow."

Chance nodded. "Honesty, I'd prefer my own guns if that's possible. They're DNA-coded, and I'm the best shot with them."

"That sounds advanced," Box said. "Is it of your own design?"

He shook his head. "No, one of my best friends is a genius and designed them for me a few years back. I'm more of a mechanic than a weapons designer."

He hummed for just a moment and nodded once. "I suppose that will be acceptable to start with."

Chance tipped his head to the side. "What's that supposed to mean? I don't really need anything more than that."

Box smiled tightly at that. "It just gets to be a little tricky when other designers' products are used across international lines. Nothing to be overly concerned with. I'm sure you can get your friend to sign off on your using them here."

"I didn't realize that would be an issue," Chance admitted.

"With weapons in particular, it can be problematic."

Chance nodded. "Well… alright. I can shoot pretty much anything, and I doubt my friend would like his designs shopped out here. No offense. He's not into sharing."

"None taken," Box replied. "Weapons designers are notoriously paranoid."

Chance nodded. "So, I guess … weapons and flight… that's really it. I'm kind of low-maintenance, honestly," he said with a self-deprecating smile.

Box nodded and let out a breath. "Then I'll tell the boys at the lab to get started on the design."

At that, Chance broke into a huge grin. "Awesome! I mean — thanks," he added belatedly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Keep up the good work, Mr. Summers."

Elin had made only a few days before someone asked her — loudly — what the deal was with the fancy leather jacket. Though considering that the kid that was asking was one of the few kids in the school that was openly a fan of the team, she wasn't entirely surprised.

"I'm on the junior team," Elin said clearly, without missing a beat. "Have been for a while now, actually." And although the initial reaction was one of quiet shock, she realized that it was a breath of pure relief once she'd put it out there. She'd fought murderous special forces … this? This was nothing.

Of course, once that had gotten out and spread like absolute wildfire around the school, it was just a matter of time before the Principal, Mr. Rivera, showed up at her English class wanting a word in private.

"I know that some of the rumors that were spread around were harsh as well as untrue," Mr. Rivera said. "But you can't tell people you're on the X-Men to get them to stop talking."

"I didn't tell them I was on the team to get them to stop talking," Elin assured him. "They are going to talk about me regardless. Believe me — I already know that."

"Then why in the world would you tell them something like that?"

"Because I am on the team," Elin said, leveling her gaze with an open expression. "In fact, I'm the leader of the junior team. But they don't need to know that. I'm not going to hide who I am. They already had most of the story anyhow."

"So … which of those rumors are true, then?" Mr. Rivera asked.

"I'm a mutant - and the oldest daughter of Wolverine and K," she replied calmly. "Other than that? I'm on the junior team, and mutants and the X-Men in particular are a threat to no one, unless of course you're trafficking mutants or trying to kill them." She took a breath and let it out slowly. "The truth is: none of that matters. I'll wear my jacket just like you let the athletes wear their team jackets, or the drama club … or whatever other organization you want to use as a model — because this is part of who I am. Outside of that? It should have no impact on anyone unless they push for it to."

"School comes first," he said. "Then your outreach — or whatever you call it. And you'll need to leave your phone here in the office, Miss Howlett."

"I'm going here for my education, yes. But my phone, my comm to reach my team and my panic button will all stay with me. If something comes up during class — and my team needs me to help save someone's life? That is more important than an essay on Julius Caesar."

"You can't have a device—"

"It's not a restriction you put on any of the other students here, and it's for my safety," she said. "A direct line to my team if some foreign entity tries to come after me — and before you say that isn't a possibility, think for a moment about who my parents are. It's possible. Not likely, but possible."

Slowly, grudgingly, he nodded, and Elin smirked to herself.