Faux Pas

Chapter Five

So this was high school, mused Bridgette. A singular building where kids congregated for four years to learn the basics. Where they would grow up and learn how to survive, essentially. Such a small place to hold so many people with their own emotional and physical growth they would need to conquer. She smirked to herself as she walked through the hall with her cap pulled low, passing the students who didn't give her a second glance. What would high school have been like for her? Would she have been the athletic student? The girl with her nose in the book and headphones on?

Well, she would never properly know. She could always think about it though.

Since she was in the gym before any of her students, she hopped up and pulled herself onto the railing of the next level where the bleachers were stationed so to look down at the court. Swinging her legs, she enjoyed her little perch as she waited for the students to appear. Honestly, she didn't know how well the whole teaching cover would work out for her or anything for that matter. It was so strange, being rather stationary and included in a group. After years of being on her own, the high dose of social interaction was foreign and it sometimes rubbed her the wrong way. She had more than her share of moments where she was fighting back the second nature to just pack a bag and take off in the middle of the night. Just run to wherever she wanted, no strings attached. No one would miss her and she had no one to miss.

Except for now. That was why she couldn't take off running anymore. She had people she would miss and emotional ties that kept her rooted. And hopefully she would be missed in return.

The bell rang loudly overhead, startling Bridgette so badly she almost fell from her spot.

"Guess that means it's time to get started," she muttered. Still staying up on her perch, she watched with interest as the students started to wander into the gym, lining up in front of the stage. Some hopped up to take a seat while most leaned against the structure, and they were all still dressed in their typical school clothes rather than the gym uniform. As well as not being changed, they were slight in size and rather twitchy, as if unsure of their environment. Freshman.

Jumping down, her landing caused the students to flinch visibly as they watched her warily. Standing up straight, Bridgette made her way over them, hands in her pockets. Deciding to be somewhat pleasant, she pushed the bill of her hat up so that they could see her face well enough.

"So, it looks like we're in the same boat," she said, her voice loud and clear. They continued to stare at her blankly. "You're new and I'm new. I guess that just seemed wittier in my head, anyway, moving on. Why aren't you all changed? I highly doubt you want to wear sweaty clothes all day."

When no one answered her, she huffed and pointed to a short blonde haired girl. "You. How come you aren't changed?" Bridgette repeated. There were at least fifteen kids, so how could it be like talking to a brick wall?

"Um, I guess, well, we weren't sure if we were going to use them today?" she guessed.

The pretend teacher raised a brow. "Really? What did you think we were going to do in a class called Gym?" she asked honestly.

A tall boy with glasses half raised his hand and Bridgette gave a nod toward him. "Well, we heard that teacher's normally do syllabus stuff on the first day of class. That's what my brother told me," he added sheepishly.

"Well, I can assure you that I don't even remember high school, let alone how it entirely works," she laughed. "Do you guys at least have clothes to change into?"

There was a mumble of confirmation, nothing too enthusiastic.

"Awesome. Go change then."

Another student spoke up. "Aren't you going to take attendance?"

"Change first, attendance second, and then we'll head outside." There was a low groan from some of them as they left the gym to go collect their bags and change into the appropriate attire.

Shit, I need to take attendance too? What else does a P.E. teacher do? Bridgette thought to herself with slight alarm. She was making everything up as she went along. It was physical training for kids ages fourteen to eighteen, how hard could that be? It was just a very mild version of what her training consisted of, wasn't it?

"Like, oh my god," groaned Kitty Pryde. The girl was leaning on Kurt's shoulder, and he was equally relying on her as well as they staggered toward their next class. "I'm exhausted!"

"I think, Miss Smith, does not understand how to, go easy?" guessed Kurt. They walked into their class and collapsed in the first available desks. "At least lunch is next."

Dr. Banner turned toward the two upon their arrival and could hardly keep his amusement from his voice. "I'm going to guess you just had gym?"

"Oh my god, Dr. Banner, we're so tired!" said Kitty. "Miss Smith is hardcore! Doesn't she ever get tired?"

"Not exactly. I'm sure she thinks that she's going really easy on you," he said.

"What!" the two yelped. The rest of the class started to file in and the conversation was brought to a swift close.

Bruce took a deep breath to ease his nerves. The day had been going fairly well with no flashes of anger or infuriating students unknowingly pushing his temperament. As it was the first day of the term, they were just going to go over the syllabus and answer questions, after that they were free to chat among themselves. He would start with attendance to take account of the class as well as trying to pin names to the kids. Then he would go through the syllabus, which was a copy of the teacher that previously taught the course. So far, so good. As well as relatively painless. That was certainly a bonus.

After going through the basics, he looked up from his papers when he noticed that the class had fallen into a lull and wasn't as talkative as before. Glancing over the top of his glasses, he gave a soft chuckle when he saw a handful of students with their heads down on their folded arms, having dozed off. He removed his glasses and placed them within his jacket with the same small smile.

"By a show of hands, how many of you came from Miss Smith's P.E class?" he asked.

A fair amount raised their hands, not bothering to lift their heads from the desks. On that note, the bell rang and the chairs scraped as the kids hurried up and grabbed their books so they could go to lunch as quickly as their feet could carry them. Bruce took his time as he straightened the chairs and the desks that were only slightly out of line, enjoying the quiet of the room. When everything seemed to be in its proper place, he grabbed his room keys and shut the light off, locking the door behind him.

"Hey, doc." Storing the keys in his pocket, he turned to see the figure of Bridgette Smith, her usual grin in place.

"Hello, Bridgette. How're your classes going?" he asked, interested in hearing her take in comparison to the exhausted students.

"Oh, it's great so far!" she chirped. "I mean, it's not even a workout to me, but it's nice to at least move around all day, and-!" She held up the silver whistle that was around her neck. "Seriously, this thing is more effective than any super power. You should get one just for the hell of it."

The scientist gave a short laugh as they made their way down to the cafeteria. The gym teacher continued on about her classes and the interesting students as well as her observations she had made throughout the day. Bruce nodded along as he listened to her. It was most likely his favorite aspect about her, that could talk enough for the two of them. It spared him most of the anxiety that would sometimes arise with forcing a conversation along, but Bridgette didn't seem to mind, content with the sound of her own voice. He also wanted to hear her take on the high school as she never had experienced it herself. It was strange to think about because she never gave it away that she was unusual with tragic upbringing. She laughed and smiled on like she as normal as everyone else.

"...and you've checked out on me," she teased, waving her hand in front of his face.

"I was listening," he tried to cover. "Yeah, the whistle sounds like a great idea."

Judging by the girl's bark of laughter, he may have missed the latest conversation topic. She just gave his back a reassuring pat.

"That was a good try, doc, but no dice," she told him as she picked up a tray as they approached the food line. Blue eyes squinted as she read the label of the first main entree item, confusion clearly written on her face as she looked back to the gamma scientist.

"What in the hell is Mystery Meat?" she half whispered in horror.

This time he laughed aloud. "Welcome to high school."

The rest of the day went well enough in Bridgette's opinion. After lunch with Bruce she did try to lessen the intensity of her course for the remaining classes. She really didn't have a firm grasp of what the normal range of physicality was for kids as she had no experience to go off of. It would take practice she supposed. It was nice to see some of the Xavier kids in her classes as well, it took some of the edge off. Then if she had any questions she could ask them without appearing completely ignorant on how to teach to the other students. No one seemed to question her teaching ability outright so she thought it was a good sign.

The last bell had rang a short while ago and a majority of the students had left as soon as possible. There were after school activities going on, sport practices, club meetings and the like. The Avenger was meandering about the school to kill time while Bruce was double checking lesson plans and making sure the rest of his week was in order. In her quest to waste minutes, she made her way into the front office and strolled over to the wall of mailbox slots and was entertained to find one with her name on it. Naturally, it was empty as it was only the first day and so she turned about to avoid Principal Darkholme's pointed glare from her personal office and to leave, only to be brought to a halt.

A woman had stepped into the office, glancing about for assistance. She brightened when she spotted Bridgette, a teacher. Mildly panicking, the unqualified teacher looked for a proper adult to shove the task to, but the secretary had just stepped out to use the restroom and the principle didn't seem warmed up to the new girl yet. Damn it.

"Excuse me," spoke the woman, stepping up her. A well practice smile stretched across her face in response.

"Hi, anything I can help you with?" Please say no.

"Yes, actually I'm looking for a teacher," she explained, slightly breathless. She shifted her briefcase to her other hand so she could extend her right. Bridgette accepted the polite gesture.

"My name's Betty Ross," she introduced.

Ross.

The name echoed in her head, ricocheting loudly within the walls of her mind. Betty flinched under the increased grip of Bridgette's handshake. She just barely managed to let go, pulling her hand back quickly.

"Sorry, just got done weight training with my last class," she lied easily enough, trying to reign in her reaction to the surname. "Just who were you looking for, Miss Ross?" she asked, hoping for a correction. Maybe the woman had married into the name.

"Oh, yes. Dr. Bruce Banner, he's new here," she explained, doing her best not to rub her hand. "We were coworkers at his last job and-and I was just hoping to check on him."

"Of course, that's very considerate of you." She stepped around Betty so to lead the way, subtly tugging the cap lower to shadow some of her own features. "I'll take you to him."

"Thank you," she said, hurrying to keep up. "Yes, I just wanted to check on Bruce, to see how he was doing."

"That's very nice of you."

"Well, we had a very long term relationship so I can't help but worry," she explained with a soft laugh.

"How good of you." Bridgette was vaguely aware of how distant her own voice was sounding. Farther and farther away. Betty kept up the mild chatter but her words fell on deaf ears as they approached the desired classroom. It couldn't be a coincidence that this Ross was there to see Bruce when the General had targeted her. Her luck didn't work that way. How did this woman even know where to find Bruce?

Without a knock, Bridgette opened the door and stepped into the room to see Bruce packing up his bag, his glasses balanced on top of his head.

"Just about finished here-"

"There's someone here to see you, Dr. Banner," Bridgette interrupted sharply, cutting him off. Concerned, his gaze traveled past his teammate and to the woman beside her.

The dripping cold only continued as Betty covered her mouth in surprise at the sight of Bruce. His face mirrored the same shock, slowly rising to his full height, his bag forgotten.

"Betty?" he croaked. Betty dropped her suitcase and rushed over to him, throwing her arms around his neck. Bridgette waited for a signal that the gesture was an attack or unwanted, but it never came. She didn't understand why the terrible sensation continued to swell within her body, numbing her senses.

"Oh Bruce!" The way she said his name with such affection only worsened the sensation and Bridgette started to take a step back, falling on her old habit of locating an exit.

"Betty, what on earth are you doing here?" he asked.

She had to get out of there. Now. Her heart rate couldn't take it.

"Have a good night, Dr. Banner," she heard herself say. Neither one paid her any mind as she left the room. He had the keys to the vehicle they were allowed to drive from the Institute. It didn't matter.

The fresh air hit her face in a few strong strides, the school door thrown wide open. Her legs picked up speed as she started to run. It didn't matter where she was going as long as she was moving.

Ross.

General Ross. The military authority who was brought into Hydra's contract of ownership over Bridgette Erskine. She remembered him, the white hair and heavy mustache and the hunger which he searched for her. The power that he wanted was embedded into her very DNA. It was right after she had barely managed to escape Hydra, then slipped away from SHIELD, and encountered the mercenary Deadpool when General Ross was brought onto the case.

She could recall how it felt out in the world for the first time. Everything was foreign and strange, and she spent a large amount of her time studying people who passed by and how they interacted. She had to start from scratch in trying to understand how society worked. Hydra had hammered language skills and other military necessities into her. Technically, there wasn't a barrier she couldn't overcome with her skill set. If she did ever talk, she had to be sure to conceal her natural German accent. The hardest part had been learning how to empathize with other people. It was exactly what Hydra and Ross didn't want her to do. Their perfect little soldier.

Bridgette ran faster.

It was so much easier to fall into the cold comfort of complete impassiveness, without a single care to those around her. That was the constant battle she wrestled with every day when she was with Hydra. They wanted her to not care, to agree to missions and orders that were given out and not think about those who would be hurt by her actions. They even had her train with another experiment, the guy with the metal arm, to try and show her that it really wasn't so bad.

And she remembered that it felt so very good to have the General under her hands, weak to her strength. He thought he could scare her, even order her. There were mixed emotions with his confrontation. Anger at his audacity that he could make her bow to his will and come quietly. Next came the enjoyment of proving him wrong, her hands tight against his neck as she threw him against the metal of his own tank. Then anger resurfaced. Why wouldn't they leave her alone? Couldn't they see that she was trying so hard to be a good person? Why did she have to be bad? That she was trying to figure out how to care and fighting to remember how it felt? She could think for herself!

It took no time for Bridgette to arrive back at the Institute, the large estate surrounding her. Her mind was still racing and she couldn't keep still. She needed adrenaline. A proper distraction. There was movement as the formidable figure of Logan appeared from around the building's corner. Perfect.

Running toward him, his gaze narrowed as she skidded to halt, a low growl of dislike coming from his throat.

"What do you want?" he gruffed.

"Do you want to fight?" she asked bluntly. When he didn't respond, she elaborated. "I said, do you want to fight? Spar? Train? Whatever you guys call it here."

"I heard you. Why should I fight you?"

"I don't know. Because I'm an asshole. Because you don't like me. Because I call you 'sunshine' 'cause I know it pisses you off and I find that funny. Do you want me to continue?" she rambled. "I didn't think you needed one when someone is offering you a shot to land a punch."

She needed to shut out the reminders of Ross as well as the image of Betty and Bruce hugging that seemed to be burned into the inside of her eyelids. That, and the fact of how perfect they looked together and it somehow made her feel awful and want to run in the opposite direction as far as she could.

"You don't want to fight me, kid," warned Logan. "I'm not your every day thug."

"Perfect. Neither am I," agreed Bridgette. "Let's get this started then."

"I'm serious. You don't want to go up against me," he said again. This time, he moved to walk around her and her hand whipped out and grabbed the crook of his elbow, bringing him to a halt.

"I mean it. Fight me," she was all but begging. She needed something to focus on and the rush of proper physical duress sounded wonderful. Logan ripped his arm free and shrugged off his leather jacket and tossed it to the side.

"Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you."

Bridgette only grinned. "Thanks, sunshine. I owe you."

REVIEW! I know, I know, it's been ungodly (nearly a year! Yikes!) and I don't know what it is about this story that it is like trying to move a brick wall every time I try to write for it. It's not as if I don't care about it, I have ideas and scenes but I just struggle getting this story into words for some reason. I have no idea why and it's freaking aggravating, let me tell you. (Bonus: I am up to date with Iron Man 3, and Captain America 2, yay!)

So, I do hope you enjoy this ridiculously overdue chapter for those of you who remember this story.

Next time, we get the Logan and Bridgette fight (Wolverine vs Ricochet!) and some interesting results. Your thoughts would be much loved as always!

Enjoy!