Thanks to hippiechick2112 for reviewing!

On Tuesday, when Ororo showed up at the end of the day, Scott gave her a wary look. "I talked to him yesterday," he pointed out. He was still not particularly keen on chatting with his backup dad, but more to the point, he wasn't sure what he had left to say.

She shrugged. "Maybe I just want to walk with you."

"Maybe you just want candy."

It didn't stop him trading a few cents for lollipops.

"Which one do you want?"

She picked blue. There were two left and she snickered at which one Scott picked.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing."

He nudged her shoulder. "Come on, what?"

She snickered again: "You picked the red one."

He rolled his eyes, which was no good because she couldn't see them, but it made him feel better. Besides, how upset could he be? The red ones were delicious.

Wednesday they shared a Hershey's bar.

Thursday they each had a Bit o Honey candy, and Ororo threatened to stop talking to Scott for a week. (This resolution lasted only about three minutes.)

When she showed up on Friday, he commented, "That's every day this week. And me thinking you don't like candy at all!"

Ororo rolled her eyes. "It's not the candy, doofus."

"Did you just call me a doofus? What happened to asshole?"

"Doofus doesn't get you grounded."

She had brought in Kon-Tiki and he renewed it for her before they left.

Both blinked as they stepped into the bright afternoon sunshine. There was a sort of finality about Fridays, an end-of-week feeling usually missing from the summer. Even though they liked this routine, the variety of two days off still prompted that tiny, necessary nudge of relief.

Scott was first to spot the boys clustered around his bike. He groaned. Something about him had always attracted bullies. These guys had been bugging him for more than a year now. He hadn't responded, but that didn't stop them.

Ororo held back as Scott headed for his bicycle. For her part, she had no respect for these boys. Sure, she used to be tough on the others back in Cairo—in fact, no one was tougher on new girls than Ororo. But that was different. They needed to be tough, literally, to stay alive. These boys were just soft jerks.

By now she understood that Scott never responded. Still, she watched, a mix of interested and disgusted as they called him stupid names.

"Do you suppose," she began, calling to Scott. He shot her a warning look, but it didn't stop her, "this makes them feel better about the fact you could beat them all up with your eyes closed?"

Scott's bullies looked at Ororo. The two lesser idiots looked, perplexed, to their boss.

The boss chuckled. "He wishes," he commented, shoving Scott.

Scott continued winding his bike chain. He would drop it into his bag, then they could head home.

"Show them," Ororo suggested. "You only have to show them once."

Scott shook his head.

"Freakazoid's girlfriend is mouthy," one of the lesser idiots commented.

It should have ended there. Ororo's eyes narrowed, but Scott was already pushing his bike, heading toward her. He was ready to go now, and Ororo would have let him coax her away from the idiots.

What the leader of the morons said about her was not the worst possible term he could have used, and it wasn't really surprising to Ororo. She had learned early that her skin would define her to most people. Well—they were idiots.

There was a blur and a crack.

The lead idiot stumbled back, his hands going to his nose, but he couldn't stem the gush of blood. It was definitely broken and bleeding impressively.

The others glanced at each other. Ororo looked at Scott, recognizing a fighting stance.

"I wouldn't," she warned the idiots in the sweetest voice she could muster.

The exchange was too brief to merit the term 'fight'. One of them reached for Scott; he threw the faster and smaller of the two at the bigger, more lumbering idiot. That they crashed into their broken-nosed leader was icing on the cake.

Ororo grinned at Scott.

He shook his head, picked up his bicycle again, and started to walk away.

"What's the matter?" she asked, hurrying after him. "Scott, that was awesome! You won, they'll never bother you again."

He wouldn't answer.

"People don't have the right to push you around. It's good that you stood up for yourself."

No answer.

"They started it. You gave them enough chances to stop acting like jerks. It's not your fault they—"

"Stop it!" Scott snapped. "Stop praising this, it's bad behavior."

"No, it isn't," Ororo replied matter-of-factly. "Everyone has a right to defend themselves. You acted on that right."

He shook his head. "They had no training, they never stood a chance against me. I'm as bad as they are!"

She scoffed. "All they had to do was stop bothering us. And now—"

"And now I'm going to be in trouble. You can't just… just hit someone because they call you names and push you a bit. He's going to be so disappointed."

Perhaps she should have known. It wasn't that Ororo doubted Scott's regret: he had hurt someone and felt badly about it, regardless of how much that person deserved it. But that was nothing compared to the knowledge that Professor Xavier might not approve.

"Do you have a dollar?" she asked when they passed the gas station.

Scott handed over two quarters and three dimes, and waited while Ororo headed into the snack stop. She looked around the shop, surprised at the variety. Everything Scott brought out was new to her, but it seemed old news to him. Did he really know all these junk foods?

She grabbed a packet of mini donuts and left.

"Here."

She handed Scott his change, then tore open the cellophane packaging. They chewed through two donuts each before either of them spoke.

"I could say my feelings were hurt," Ororo offered. "I mean… I'm used to it, to people saying stuff like that, but it's not like I like hearing it."

Scott shook his head. "Thanks, but it was my choice. I knew what I was doing."

"You were grooves back there."

"Grooves, huh?"

"Grooves. Nerd. I think I'm getting my cast off this weekend."

"Already?"

"Yeah."

"You're going to be uneven without it. Just watch, you're so used to having it on."

Ororo shrugged. She supposed it was possible, but she still thought of the cast as new, as unwelcome. Sure, she was used to it, but she still wanted to be able to use both hands completely, or extend her arm fully, or brush her own hair. (Or not. She rather liked the ritual of Ruth braiding it every morning.)

When they reached the gate, Scott checked the mail, the way he always did. This time he took out a letter and dropped it in his bag.

Ororo raised an eyebrow, but didn't ask. She was busy with plotting of her own.

Keeping Scott occupied wasn't terribly busy. Ororo just called out to Alex and Chris, waved, and suggested Scott should join them. Scott clearly didn't want to, and stammered out something about interfering and everyone was busy and so on.

"You said you two were on okay terms," she accused.

Scott was still a bit withdrawn, even for him, but he wasn't walking around carrying a raincloud. That really bothered her: she controlled the rain and clouds around here!

"We are," he said, "but I don't want to take this time away from Alex, and—"

"Alex doesn't mind," Ororo promised. "Do you, Alex?"

Given the look on Alex's face, he did mind—and Ororo knew it. She gave him a look that was a mix of adorable little sister and a promise of a favor owed.

Alex sighed.

"Get over here and learn how to hold a screwdriver," he said.

"I know how to hold a screwdriver," Scott retorted, but he started toward Alex. He paused to glanced back at Ororo just once. She gave him an encouraging nod.

"So prove it, twerp."

"Jerk."

"Shrimp."

"Boys," Chris said, putting a stop to the bickering—for the moment.

Ororo pushed Scott's bike up to the mansion and left it leaning against the wall, then headed inside. "Ruth?" she called. She tended to move with a hop in her step at the best of times. Now that hop moved a bit more quickly as she peered into each room she passed. "Mom? Ruth?"

"In here!"

She should have guessed Ruth would be in the kitchen. "How come you like cooking so much, anyway?" Ororo asked.

Ruth shrugged. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail today, her fingernails caked with flour and jeans smeared with what looked like tomato sauce.

"Because it is fun," she said. "And because I am Jewish. Try this."

Ororo took it and nibbled. "Gah! What the—no," she decreed.

"The garlic, I thought this might be a problem," Ruth said, making Ororo wonder why she had to be the one to taste the stupid too-garlic bread. "Do you know, when you are Jewish—"

"I'm never Jewish."

Ruth waved away the objected. "To someone who is Jewish, to eat is a prayer. Because life is sacred above all things, and we must eat to live. So, eat, worship…"

It made sense, Ororo had to admit.

"I need to talk to you," she said.

"Okay. What happened?"

Ororo explained about the boys in town, how they had been bothering Scott for a while and what he did today. She wasn't sure why she was so strongly on his side, but she was. Making Scott stay outside with Alex and Chris was necessary so that Ruth would hear the story first, from Ororo, and could tell Charles.

Ruth listened, nodded, and seemed to understand that Scott had needed to fight back. Ororo was relieved right up until she started setting the table. Then her relief faded—and not just because she was uninterested in table-setting.

Just down the hall, she saw Charles and Scott. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but from the way Scott stood with his head down, he had to be talking about the fight. Ororo sighed. Stupid boy! Couldn't he let her fix this for once?

They needed Ruth to explain. She would understand! And anyway, Charles never wanted to hurt anybody.

So, when everyone but Hank had sat down to dinner—Hank was too busy in the lab, "eminent to a breakthrough!"—Ororo mentioned it again.

"Can we talk about what happened in town today?" she asked.

"What happened in town?" Alex asked.

"We saw that there's a showing of Dr. No and From Russia with Love at the theater," Scott said. "Next weekend, next Saturday."

Ororo glared at him.

"What time is it showing?" Charles asked. He hadn't seen either of the films, but he had read about them a bit, in passing. Seemed okay. Popular, certainly.

"Um… laterish," Scott admitted. "Eight-thirty."

"You may go as long as someone goes with you."

"I'll go," Ororo volunteered. She had never been in a movie theater. She wasn't sure she exactly wanted to, not knowing what all the fuss was about, but it was an opportunity to get out of the mansion again. Much as she liked it here, she needed to feel less like the world ended at the walls.

"An adult," Charles amended.

"What about me and Dad?" Alex suggested.

"Alex," Chris said.

"I always want to see a movie with na—with spies in it. Who doesn't like spies?"

Ororo raised her eyebrows at the slip-up, but Alex gave her a quick shake of his head. Whatever it was, she all but had permission to go to the theater, so she was sure she would find out when they saw the movie.

"Scott?" Charles asked.

"Okay with me," Scott murmured.

"All right, then," Charles agreed.

"But about what happened in town," Ororo insisted. "Scott beat up some kids."

"Don't say it like that," Scott said. "They're not kids. They're older than me."

"Who was it?" Alex asked. "Someone wanna pass me the noodles, by the way? Like if you're bored. Hey, no pressure."

Ruth passed him the noodles.

Scott pushed food around on his plate and described the boys.

Alex promptly named them all. "They had it coming," he said. "I know those guys, they're total fu—"

Charles cleared his throat.

"…totally unpleasant," Alex amended.

"That doesn't make it all right to hurt them," Charles replied, clearly directing his comment at Scott.

"I said I was sorry," Scott muttered. He had gone very red in the face.

"Until you've said it to them, that's an apology with very little meaning."

"If you apologize to them, I won't talk to you for a week," Ororo added. "A whole week. How much of the story did he tell you, Professor?"

Charles looked from her to Scott and back. "I really don't see that this is a conversation to be had with everyone present," he said.

"Did he tell you that they pushed him?" Ororo asked. "Or what they said about me?"

Scott looked ready to push away from the table, but Charles rested a hand on his arm. It was gentle—but easily enough to keep him from running away from this.

"Sometimes it is okay to fight back," Ruth offered. "I do not teach you to fight because I think you will not, ever."

"It wasn't a fair fight," Scott said. "They didn't know how to defend themselves."

"So what?" Ruth retorted. "These boys, they have bothered you for a while now?"

"Well… yes."

"How long is this?"

"About a year."

"And they push you?"

"Sometimes—not that often."

"But they do push you."

Scott nodded.

"Fair fight does not matter," Ruth said. "You do not start it, you give them more than enough time to stop and they do not, you do not lead them on. When you pick a fight, it will be fair or you answer to me. But you did not pick this. And you ended it with no broken bones, yes?"

"One of their noses."

"Excellent," Alex said, then quickly fell silent again at the stern looks he was given—just a grumbled, "It is excellent."

Ruth waved it off. "Cartilage," she said. "Not bone. Ha'kol tov. This is fine."

Ororo ducked her head to hide how hugely she was grinning.