~ Chapter 3 ~

"Okay, so I found the perfect guy for you," Cessily whispers.

She had been absent during lunch period, having disappeared in the rush of students exiting Psychology in the morning. Now they are sitting in Calculus, listening to the teacher lecture them on why calculators cannot be used for the course.

Laura waits, uncertain.

"Quentin Quire," Cessily continues.

"I have not met him," she replies.

"Well…he's pretty much a douche bag. Telepath who tried to start a movement here at Xavier's. But he'll be all over you…and the best part is, Julian hates his guts. When those two are in a room together, the air practically turns black with negative feelings."

"I am not certain I wish to see that," Laura says, sounding worried. "I do not want to get in the middle of enemies. I already have enough as it is."

"Neither is going to be your enemy, Laura."

"What if I am forced to choose a side?"

"Then you take Julian's, duh. Isn't he the whole point of this?"

Laura sighs. "Yes…but I do not like your plan."

"You don't have to like it. Just go along with it. You asked me for help and now I'm helping you, ye of little faith." Cessily smiles smugly. "Did I not tell you edging up your look would get a reaction out of him?"

"Julian became angry, and slammed the door."

"It still counts as a reaction," Cessily argues.

Laura considers this. "…fine," she says, grudgingly. "I will meet with Quire, but you will need to provide instruction, to both of us."

"Oh, Quire's not going to be in on this," Cessily says, grinning.

"But—" Laura looks alarmed. "You said he is a telepath."

"And his ego is totally going to get in the way of that, just you wait and see." The redhead grins again. "Trust me, boys are predictable, no matter what their special powers are. Although…maybe if their power was to develop ovaries…" She looks thoughtful for a moment. "Anyhoo, it's a sure thing. I'll let it slip near Quire that you have the hots for him and his rebel attitude. No, wait—better yet, I'll just think it really loud beside him. We have shared psionic defense exercises. Usually telepaths can't read me, but last week he picked up me mentally cursing at Santo. And when he comes for you—"

"Comes for me?" Laura interrupts.

"Comes to claim what he thinks is his. You just go with whatever he says. I'll let it slip to Julian…and then we'll coordinate it so he sees it together. I guarantee you he'll confront Quire….who will say that you have a thing for rebels…and watch, he'll do anything to get your attention."

"I have a headache," Laura says, her forehead wrinkled.

Cessily nods. "Leave it to me. Just say 'yes' to whatever Quire wants, got it?"

"…I think so," Laura says. She pauses. "Could I ask Julian if he would like to be my partner instead?"

"Do you think you can get the words out?" Cessily counters.

The other girl considers. "When will Quire be coming?"

"Soon. Give me a day or two."

"Okay." Laura still looks unhappy, but she does not question her friend on the plan any further.

You're NOT TRYING! Rachel Grey roars, inside of each of her students' minds. Only Quire and Kincaid stand any chance at throwing off my attacks. I'm learning things about you that even your own MOTHER doesn't know! Doesn't that BOTHER you? Aren't you going to even TRY AND STOP ME?

Cessily angles a glance at Quentin Quire, who is standing on the opposite side of the circle the students form. His expression is definitely one of boredom; inside, she smiles slightly. She decides she will plant her information on the next telepathic assault wave from Professor Grey.

Alright, boys and girls. Prepare to meet your maker. And this time…any secret I get from your heads is fair game for the entire group.

It's hard for Cessily to keep from grinning. She couldn't have asked for a better chance to spread gossip. She closes her eyes, and as Professor Grey shouts DEFEND!, she mentally pictures her friend whispering to her—in English class—that she's really interested in the boy with the purple Mohawk, sitting three rows away. Cessily has always been good at daydreaming, so it isn't hard for her to imagine this.

FAILURE! Professor Grey shouts, looking frustrated. Her eyes fall on Cessily. I can't believe it! You guys are getting WORSE by the minute!

Quire suddenly jerks his head around and looks at Cessily, his eyebrows raised. She lowers her eyes, as if she is annoyed; secretly, she's patting herself on the back. From the look on his face, he's taken the bait hook, line and sinker.

Twenty minutes later, Cessily is stopped from heading down the hallway by none other than Quire.

"Hold it, Kincaid!" he orders, as he marches toward her in his usual aggressive manner.

"Um, hi," she says.

"Who's your friend?" he asks.

"A lot of people are my friends," Cessily answers, wrinkling her nose.

"You know which one I'm talking about." Quire stares at her intently, his purple Mohawk like a flame on his otherwise shorn head. "Come on, I'm processing twenty-three algorithms right now. Two contain possible cures for cancer, and about ten pinpoint how badly this school is going to implode. I don't have time for crap like this."

"Well—" Cessily bites her lip. "No, I can't. Laura would hate me. Oops!"

"Laura. Laura." Quire thinks for a few seconds. "X-23. The creepy girl with claws, can never get a good read on her."

"She's hardly creepy compared to you!" Cessily snaps.

"That'll do, Kincaid." Quire spins around and marches in the other direction; the girl watches him out of sight, and then allows herself a triumphant grin. So far, so good.

At lunch the next day, Cessily is again absent. Laura sits alone, trying not to shoot longing glances toward Julian as he sits amongst a group of kids, laughing occasionally and contributing to the conversation.

She doesn't even notice the stranger until he clears his throat.

"Ah-hem."

Laura looks up from her plate—burrito held in her hands, halfway to her mouth—to meet the eyes of the boy who is leaning over the table. He is wearing glasses, and has a shaven head, except for a shock of purple hair at the crown.

"Hello," Laura says uncertainly.

SCREECH! as the boy pulls a chair out, and plunks down opposite from her.

"Introductions bore me, so I'm just going to download my awesomeness into your head. That cool?" he asks casually.

Laura stiffens. "I do not like the sound of that," she says apprehensively.

The boy purses his lips. "I bet the only thing sharp about you is those copy-cat claws of yours. Wolverine's like that. His mind's like a dollhouse actually, all these layers and secret rooms. Heh, you eat Tabasco sauce to compensate for all the years of bland diet. That's so lame—you should try leading a revolution, if you want excitement. Hey, you know what else is exciting?"

"You're Quentin Quire," Laura says, suspiciously.

"I prefer Kid Omega, but whatever floats your boat. Did you think about my offer?"

"Offer?"

"Damn, I already made it fifteen times over in my head. Want to rule beside me when I take over this place?"

Laura blinks, her burrito still halfway to her mouth.

"I'll take that as an absolute YES.And trust me, I'm the real deal…I already busted Xavier's big dream. I'm the reason he freakin' stepped down, man. Showed him about all his black birds crap. Logical error, my ass." Quire grins at Laura, and the contents of her burrito squirt out onto her plate. She doesn't notice.

"You ever done Kick? That'll throw some taste in a bland diet. Ten times the power, man! Don't know what it'd do to a healing factor though. Hey, you ever tried dousing yourself in gasoline and lighting up for the hell of it? I can tell you, with the rate Wolverine heals at—and being his clone sans Adamantium, that reduces about half-time—you could be peachy-keen in two hours flat. You should try it, sounds like a hell of a lot of fun. Real cleansing, you know what I mean?"

Laura lets the empty burrito wrap drop. "Do you suffer from mental instability?" she asks, hesitantly.

"What the—no! I think ten million brilliant thoughts a second!" Quire leans back in his chair. "You're lucky one of those thoughts was about you. So?"

"'So?'" Laura parrots, uncertainly.

"What about it? Be my queen and I'll scrawl your name across the stars."

"I—" Laura is about to reply, when her eyes catch something she had previously missed. Over Quire's shoulder, she sees that Julian has stopped talking and is watching her table, his expression dark. "Alright," she says, a little stiffly.

Quire beams. "I knew you were cool! Awesome. Want to have sex?"

"Yes. Wait, what?" Laura shakes her head.

"I like a challenge." Quire grins. "Wanna meet me in the library at six on Friday? Me and some buddies are going to leave our mark on this school. Bring some spray paint and for gods' sakes don't dress like a kindergarten teacher. This is rebellion and we're teaching these losers our names, alright?"

Laura remembers what Cessily had said. "I enjoy…rebellion," she says stiffly. She thinks that she hasn't delivered the line very convincingly, but judging from both Quire's widening (fox-like grin), and Julian's narrowing eyes (twinkling slightly green), she is deserving of an acting award. What was that called again? Yes…an Oscar.

"Sweet deal, man. You're going to be hotter than Tattoo ever was, I just know it. And it's so awesome that your mind's all sealed up like a clam. I'll just bet it's full of juicy secrets!"

Laura tries not to act revolted. She smiles instead. "I have anti-psionic training."

"That's what it would seem like. Yours is better than Logan's…I cracked through his in under a nanosecond, with only two thoughts. I'll get a read off you in a bit, I'm sure."

She hears the sound of a chair being moved, and footsteps, approaching the table; then two metal hands clamp down on either side of the back of Quire's chair.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Julian demands.

Quire looks up, his expression full of irritation. "None of your business, cretin."

"Are you listeningto this piece of shit?" The glowing green eyes are now directed at Laura, and she raises her eyebrows.

"Am I not allowed to?" she asks.

"You're just jealous your mind is all brawn and no brain," Quire says smugly.

"Shut up. I can't believe you, Laura." Julian looks disgusted. "I thought you were better than this. He killed people, you know. Sophie died because of him!"

"Sophie's death wasn't my fault!" Quire looks angry. "They proved that was Esme!"

"God." The other boy looks downward. "You're such a waste of space. I can't believe Professor Logan ever invited you to this school. It's for Higher Learning, not barbarian anarchy, you insufferable prick."

"At least I have a useful power," Quire mocks. "I can read and alter a hundred minds simultaneously…while you can make it seem like you still have a pair of hands."

"Better than pretending I have a head!" Julian snaps, unconsciously tightening his grip so the chair bends slightly. "I'm amazed. All those kids died…and you're still here."

"I could say the same." Quire grins. "I think I'll just make you wet yourself first."

"Too bad Professor Grey-Summers taught me how to interrupt your bowel controls," Julian counters. "Touch my brain and I swear to god I'll make you shit out your organs."

"Please stop," Laura says, disturbed.

The boys continue to glare at each other.

"Hey guys…what's up?" Cessily's voice cuts through the air, easing the tension with its friendly melody.

Laura looks to her in desperation.

"Oh, err…is anyone going to Dr. McCoy's speech this Friday?" the metal girl asks, sliding into the empty seat beside Laura.

"I could give a crap less about that ball of fur," Quire says. "He impresses me about as much as a house cat that's been litter trained."

"I'll be there if it kills me," Julian replies. "You girls coming?"

"Laura's going to be helping me bring about a new dawn in the mutant debate. Research in the library!" Quire answers. "She doesn't have time for a wasted speech about human-mutant cooperation."

"That sounds fun," Cessily says, trying not to laugh. She catches Laura's worried eyes, and beneath the table, pats her knee reassuringly.

Julian glares at the girl. "You wouldn't, Laura. You wouldn't hurt Professor Logan like that."

Laura looks at the table, wishing strongly that she had chosen not to return to the school altogether. She bites her lip and hopes earnestly that everyone will just go away and leave her alone. Under the table, her knuckles turn white as the urge to pop her claws and draw blood manifests itself.

"Actually, Laura has a date," Cessily says abruptly.

Both boys stare at her, and she inwardly winces. Quick…c'mon…idea, please, I'm begging you to come…she thinks, and then suddenly she has it. "A double date, with me and this guy I met last Tuesday. He has a single friend, so I was like, why not?"

The boys look to Laura now, to confirm this. She gives an almost imperceptible nod, her eyes closed and the corners of her mouth downturned.

"You'd rather go on a date than help advance the mutant situation?" Quire demands.

"It wasn't Laura's idea…she just promised me so I'd be happy," Cessily says quickly. "She owes me a favor, you see."

"And Laura wouldn't break a promise," Julian adds, sounding satisfied. "I've had enough of this crap for the day."

"Likewise." Quire slides out of his chair. "Look me up when you're hungry for some real action, Kinney."

When both boys have left, Cessily claps her hands over her mouth, to stifle the bubbling laughter. "Oh man, did you see his face?" she asks.

"That was very uncomfortable," Laura says. "I did not enjoy it. I do not understand why it was necessary."

The other girl sighs. "Julian's teetering on the edge with you, and one shove is going to make him take a dive. Think of this as…hey, I know! You liked Chemistry class, right?"

"Yes. Chemical reactions are logical and easy to understand."

"Easy! Pfft." Cessily rolls her eyes. "Laura, you're a piece of work. Okay…so remember that experiment we did, where we made Aspirin?"

"Yes." The other girl says, nodding.

"Remember how we used a catalyst to make the chemical reaction happen?"

"H3PO4," Laura says immediately. "Otherwise known as Phosphoric acid."

"Your memory is insane." Cessily looks envious. "Okay, so pretend you and Julian are the ingrediants—"

"C7H6O3 or salicylic acid, and C4H6O3, otherwise known as acetic anhydride," Laura supplies helpfully.

"Yeah, those. And Quire is the—"

Laura's eyes widen. "Catalyst!" she says, and Cessily can almost hear the mental click! as the thought snaps into place. "I understand," she says. "I will do better. Should I attend the library with Quire on Friday?"

Cessily considers. "Yeah. The more Julian sees you two together, the faster he's going to break."

"Quire proposed sexual intercourse," Laura says thoughtfully.

"Eww, god! No!" The redhead shakes her head vehemently. "You don't need to sacrifice yourself for this. Although…I bet if Julian saw you kiss that jerk—even on the cheek—he'd blow a gasket."

"I will do whatever is necessary to accomplish the mission," Laura says, and she seems to have renewed confidence. Cessily pats herself on the back for having managed to define the situation in terms her friend could comprehend. She pauses for a moment, thinking how odd it is that Laura would need a more complicated analogy to understand things…but whatever. She beams.

"Awesome. Just promise me, when you and Julian get married, I'll be your maid of honor, okay?"

Laura looks alarmed. "Will that be a result of this?"

"I was totally joking," Cessily says, in a deflated manner. "Who knows, though. We're playing with fire here. When Julian gets stuck on an idea, it's like a railroad track. Can't get him off it, and can't stop him."

Her friend looks uneasy for a moment, then shakes her head dismissively. "How should I approach Quire on Friday?"

"Well…" Cessily purses her lips, then grins.