"We can talk now," said Sif.
"I don't understand," said Logan.
"Neither does Bruce," said Sif. "Back when we were dating on Asgard, he wanted to hear Asgard poetry in the original tongue. Since then, he went from only not translating for himself to being a walking Tower of Babel. Bruce does most of the cooking at home. He makes the best dragon sausage. Jane gave him some Misgard spices. Fry them in a pan with turnips and carrots and you are in Valhalla."
"I'll take your word on it," said Logan.
"Since there isn't much call for doctors on Asgard, he makes a living selling handcrafted furniture," said Sif. "Bruce hasn't picked up a science book in years; yet, he wants to stay. Then he wasn't the one, who had to watch him sleep for over a day while his bruises healed. What do you do?"
"Lurk in hallways, according to your husband," said Logan.
"What else do you do?" Sif smiled.
"Babysit when necessary," said Logan.
xxxx
Bruce said, "I made Thai Curry Chicken with canned vegetables and rice. I don't know how long that coconut milk was sitting in the cabinet, so I hope it's OK. On that note, I suggest only Asgardians or mutants, who don't fear botulism eat it."
Bruce then said for Sif's ears. "I told the others it had germs in it that we are immune to. It should be fine, but I don't want a dozen kids trying to get a sample."
Sif sat down at the kitchen table with Logan as Bruce served the food. Rogue joined them.
"Aren't you worried?" Bruce took his full plate and sat down beside his wife.
"No, you were in a class full of mutants and you were the only one that could smell Logan in the hallway," said Rogue. "Smell is more important than taste when it comes to the flavors of food. You couldn't tolerate food that was the slightest bit rancid."
"You're a smart girl." Bruce took a forkful of chicken and forced himself to chew and swallow. "Do you think the others will figure that out?"
"If they liked curry that coconut milk wouldn't have been sitting in the cabinet for so long," said Rogue.
Logan said, "You are a good cook. Next time, we need beer."
"No beer on campus," said Bruce. "But we can find a bar after the children are tucked into their beds. How would you like to go shopping for a hog?"
"I've been stealing Cyclops' vehicles but I could use one of my own,' said Logan.
"It's a date." Bruce took another bite of food. The food tasted OK, but he didn't feel much like eating. Still he needed his strength.
"I want to feel the wind in my hair, too," said Rogue.
"You, sweet pea, need to wear a helmet," said Logan.
"What are you talking to Logan about?" asked Sif. "I heard the word pig. It isn't food, again?"
"No, dear," Bruce explained in Norse, old Norwegian. "I was planning on buying a vehicle. People don't ride horses on Misgard. I want a motorized bike, big enough for the two of us plus the baby. My friend, Steve, can get us a good one."
"You aren't the total dork I met in the hallway," said Logan.
"You should have seen me riding into battle on a borrowed motorcycle wearing borrowed clothes," said Bruce in English.
Piotr came into the kitchen. "Any food left?"
"Help yourself," said Bruce. By now, students were filling plates and bowls and taking them into the living room.
Douglass, another student, sat by Sif and whispered something into her ear.
Sif said in slow broken English, "Logan, Doug-lass teach me English, good?"
"Douglass is good with languages," said Logan.
"You go drink with Bruce," she said. "Good for you and Bruce."
After his plate was empty, Bruce went back to the stove to get more. All that was left was a few grains of rice. Rogue wasn't the only one that knew his nose would never let him eat rotten food. Most of the students here were gifted in more than one sense of the word. After he put the dishes in the dishwasher, he went back to the classroom with the broken windows and part of the wall missing because of a she-hulk to teach his afternoon class to the younger students.
While he was looking at the hole in the wall, Storm came in. "You OK?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" asked Bruce. "Rogue did this damage because of me. I'm not safe to be around."
"Bruce, none of us are safe to be around," said Storm. "That's why the Professor built this school."
"If being cured means feeling like I did when Rogue had the Hulk inside her, I don't want to be cured," Bruce stated. "I've had enough therapy that I don't hate myself for admitting that. Wow! Don't you have a class to teach?"
"History and Social studies," said Storm.
"Go. I'll be OK," said Bruce.
Storm touched him on the arm then walked away. For a few seconds, Bruce watched her go. Then he opened his book. He would teach the younger children some math tricks then it was breaking them up into groups to teach them on their own levels. For science, it was simple machines.
They didn't see Rogue change, so he didn't have to go easy on them. He didn't have to demonstrate to them that he was still the teacher and everything would be OK. These children had soldiers try to shoot them with tranquilizers in the middle of the night. They knew their world could be turned upside down in a second. They may not know the details, but they knew Dr. Grey didn't return after that horrible night. Just being the substitute teacher for Dr. Grey made his job hard to impossible. Watching the children take their seats, Bruce smiled and waved to them.