Hiii. It's Blitzie (who's pretty much always the one typing) and Hippie, who's next to me reading all these words getting rugburn because I don't feel like dragging a chair from my mom's room into my midgety bedroom.

We got off our asses again and since we have no lives, wrote a filler chapter that takes a lot of time at THE GRAHAM CRACKER.

We own "The Graham Cracker." btw. if you want to use it in a first class fic, please private message one of us. (preferably BlitzPrinzessin, because I get lonely because the only story I actually have published is a Glee fic and no one ever talks to me on my account, haha.)

Speaking of PMs, Hippie is all "fffff do not want" with getting spammed about stuff. She wants people to review when they favorite. She said Magneto's helmet loses some of its magenta when people do that. Where she comes up with these, I don't know...

oh, and we have two more First Class-y fics coming up. c: one will be posted on here, 2hippie4u (Maddyton/Bill/Billy-Bob-Joe-Weasley-Girl-Your-Grace-Darling-Riverfall/Hadley), and one will be posted on my (Bree/Blitzie/Gabby/Gabe) account, BlitzPrinzessin. And if anyone asks, my real name is Bree. I just like the name Bree. So poof, the OC is Bree. Cause it's a nice name. xD and that really long, drawn out one, is actually Hippie's nickname. I came up with nearly all of it.

Remember: review so Charles keeps his sparkly eyes.

And review when you fave so Magneto keeps his prissy magenta helmet.

THE GRAHAM CRACKER

WHAT'S 1963+0? GUESS WHAT? IT'S 1963!

Banshee leaned across the table and put on what he hoped was his most winning smile. "So, Bree," he said casually, "I wasn't joking when I asked you for a bite to eat after you mentioned your love of s'mores. So I took you to the Graham Cracker!"

Bree raised an eyebrow. "Really?" she asked sarcastically. "Because I've never heard of this place before, and I'm pretty much a food critic. It must suck if I haven't heard of it… where's Alex, anyway?"

"Your Alex will be let out of the metal room in the basement which accidentally locked its own door, after this date." The redhead/strawberry blonde type person beamed and winked. "Until then, you're all mine!"

His "date" slumped over, muttering swear words under her breath. Professor, she begged telepathically, get me out of here! Where are you? Her mentor asked.

I'm at the Graham Cracker. With Banshee. Please save me. I don't think I can take five more minutes without roundhouse kicking him in the neck. Or as Electra calls it, "death-kicking."

…Crud. Kahlin found me; I've been trying to hide from her. She won't stop bombarding me about space-invading questions like what brand underwear I buy and if I ever get lonely sleeping by myself. I'm sorry, but I can't help you.

SCREW KAHLIN! I'm ready to commit homicide over here!

I'll send Alex… where is he, anyways?

Ask Banshee. Send Hadley or something. She can distract him by babbling on about magenta.

On it.

As Bree finished her nonverbal conversation with the professor, she sighed. How did I end up in this situation? she thought.

A couple of hours earlier

AT DA MANSION. IN DA 1963. AFTER DA X-MEN MOVIE. WHERE DA BREE IS HIT ON BY DA BANSHEE AND DA BANSHEE FORCES HER INTO GOING OUT ON DA DATE WITH HIM. DA.

Bree was gathering the remaining bits and pieces from her practice mannequins, preparing to take them to Beast for repairs. All of her destructive kicks, punches, and even slaps to the various body parts destroyed the dolls, and she seriously needed to keep practicing.

Alex had been helping her, but he left to take a bathroom break, and for some reason never returned.

"Well, his loss," she muttered under her breath. It was actually quite amusing to see where some of the pieces had landed during her Chuck Norris-like frenzy. One had landed in the bush that Havok set on fire, one had hit Lou, who was stalking the front yard, in the head, and she found a head inside a bucket that someone was attempting to paint magenta.

The telepath had burst out laughing when she fished the head, stained with magenta, out of the bucket. Next to it was another mannequin head, covered in glue and silver sequins. It reflected the harsh sunlight and made Bree's eyes hurt, but this "project" was amusing her.

She was snapped out of her memories by the sound of footsteps, or rather, crunching grass, behind her. "Havok?" she asked hopefully. "Even better!" the boy behind her responded.

Bree swore under her breath, and took several deep breaths to calm herself. "What do you want, Banshee?" she asked coolly. The carrot top smiled. "I was hoping you would accompany me to grab a bite," he said, attempting to sound smooth.

She shook her head and turned back to the mannequin pieces. "No." He pouted. "Please? Just one? Please please please please pleasee?"

Once again, Bree shook her head. "No. I don't want to. Can you go, and on your way back in, tell Alex to get his ass out here? I need help." Banshee smiled crookedly. "Sorry, Alex had a bit of an… accident with the door to his training room. He's locked in.

"So would you like to reconsider that date? At least while he's… indesposed?" the boy smiled at her and she made a face. "Let Alex out when we get back, and it's a deal," she snapped. Banshee nodded. "Sure." Bree's face suddenly lit up, and she grinned mischevously. "And I want the candy you have hidden in your room."

The echokinetic paled slightly. "Half." "All." "Three-fourths." "All. Or I'll even tell Alex how the door shut itself." "…Fine."

CURRENT TIME In 1963

BACK AT THE GRAHAM CRACKER. MMMMM, S'MORES.

Bree's lips curled into a slight smile at the memory, despite her company. Banshee took that as a sign that she was having a fun time on their "date" and kept on rambling. She sighed and turned to the door once more, willing her redhead friend to walk inside.

And so she did. Hadley, wearing an oversized pair of sunglasses and kitten ears, burst through the door and beamed as she looked around at the place of her former employment. "Oh my gosh," she shrieked happily, "I so missed this place!"

Hadley wasn't able to be seen by Banshee, whose view of the door was blocked by Bree, so he figured that it was just some creeper girl. "I have to go to the bathroom," Bree told him suddenly, and he nodded once as she slipped away, walking past Hadley.

"You owe me," the redhead muttered as the brunette passed. Bree's green eye twitched slightly and she pouted. "I know," she whispered, "I'll give you some of the candy I took from Echo over there." Hadley giggled and pushed her towards the bathroom. "Go, I'll distract him so you can leave! Save your man, Phobreea! Save him!"

She slid into Bree's seat as said girl scurried off, and Banshee looked up, surprised. "Hadley?" he asked hastily. "Where's Bree?" She shrugged. "In the little telepaths' room. I just wanted to stop by for a chat." The carrot top looked at her sunglasses, shielding half her face from view, and then the fuzzy kitten ears clashing magnificently with her red hair, and gaped. "What are you wearing?"

"It's Gangster Wednesday and Kitty 23rd. I get a free meal and a free giant s'more if I double up."

"You look stupid."

"That's what you say now, but who'll be the one laughing when you have to pay and I don't?" She scoffed. "After that comment, I won't even be using my ex-employee's discount on you."

Banshee sighed and glanced around. When he saw Bree wasn't there, he grew disinterested in focusing on anyone else as Hadley peered at his head. She dunked a napkin in her Coke and began squeezing the excess soda out onto his head. "I'd so love to make your hair spiky," she mused.

Neither of them noticed the stern-faced man clad in dark colors, a cape, and a magenta helmet at a nearby table. He was eyeing both of them and watching rather carefully…

THAT BIG METAL ROOM THINGY WHERE ALEX IS SUPPOSED TO BE LOCKED IN. POOR ALEX.

According to my computer, it's 2011. But since that's sort of like breaking the fourth wall and turning this into even more of a crack!fic, it's 1963 BITCHES.

Alex had been pounding on the door that connected his training room to the outside world for hours. He was going nuts from all the time he had spent staring at the burned walls and sniffing fried metal from when Hadley had been borrowing the room.

"THIS ISN'T FUNNY!" he bellowed, seriously pissed off. "LET ME OUT, WHOEVER DID THIS!"

The door began making creaking noises, and scared, he backed away. In a few seconds, it swung open, revealing a straight-haired brunette with one green eye and one brown, staring at him concernedly. Alex's face broke into a huge smile.

"Bree!" he shouted. In his state of happiness, he grabbed her in a hug and swung her around a few times. She giggled. "Sorry it took so long to get you out of here," she apologized. "I had to distract Banshee with Hadley before I could flee. He dragged me to the Graham Cracker."

The convict's face contorted angrily, at the mention of both who locked him in, and also that Banshee was trying to woo Bree. "What?" he growled. The telepath put a hand on his bicep. "Wait until he gets home, and then go all Havok on him," she advised. Then she grabbed him by the arm and pulled him away from that metal prison.

NEXT CHAPTER: BONDING TIME FOR THE CARROT TOPS.

REDHEADS UNITE!111!

And then Magneto goes batshit insane because of this. And some people lose money.