fic: term project (1/?)
- Some months after the end of the movie, the gang's faced with some new
and old foes....
Term Project (1/?)
Author: domenika marzione (nikimarzione@...)
Notes: post-movie, addition of comics-canon characters
Archive: anywhere, just lemme know. Will eventually be on file at
Feedback: As long as it's either constructive or flattering.
Preferably both. :)
Disclaimers: Textual Poaching zone ahead. Marvel owns everything.
"So what do you think they do?"
"What do you think the new people do? Glow in the dark? Fly?"
"I hadn't thought about it much, Robert," Hank McCoy sighed. "Careful
with that petri dish."
Bobby Drake sighed back. He had been working as Hank's assistant for
six months now - since the second week after the blue-furred grad
student had shown up at the Xavier Academy - and while he had yet to
break anything, McCoy never failed to warn him against carelessness.
"You aren't the least bit curious?"
"Curiosity killed the cat," McCoy replied. "But, yes, I suppose I am
inquisitive. Just not obsessively so as you seem to be."
"Hey, my life is disturbingly like this petri dish," Drake smirked.
"Very small, very limited, and I can't shake the feeling that someone
isn't checking it for changes every few hours. Leave me my
"Just as long as you don't develop mold spores like our sample," Hank
The two worked in silence, Bobby at his lab bench and Hank at his
laptop, the former performing routine maintenance on the various
biological tests they were running and the latter working to graph the
"If it would make you feel better, there are two of them."
"Two new arrivals," McCoy clarified. "Scott is picking them up at
White Plains tomorrow."
"How come he always gets to rescue the damsels in distress, huh?"
"Damsels? There are no damsels arriving, Master Drake." So much for
subtlety, hmm, Robert?
"Great, then, two more guys for all the current girls to moon after.
Next you'll tell me that Logan's on his way back."
"Actually," McCoy smiled as Bobby's eyebrows shot up. "I have no
"So now that you're in an information sharing mood," Bobby sat down on
the stool next to McCoy's. "What else do you know about them?"
"I hope they're cute."
"The new guys?"
"Yeah. I hope they're cute. We need more cute guys around here."
"Gee, way to make me feel wanted, Jubilee," Bobby Drake frowned,
although not irritated enough to get up off the couch he was currently
sharing with his classmate.
"We do love you, Bobby," Kitty Pryde leaned over from her chair to pat
"We just need someone to lust after," Jubilee finished.
"Now I'm starting to feel not only unwanted, but inadequate," Drake
smirked. "Hey, Rogue, wanna come join the party? Kitty and Jubilee are
busy trying to make me feel as worthless as possible. Surely you can
top their efforts."
Rogue walked in to the entertainment room. "Ah dunno, Bobby," she
smiled as she stopped behind the couch, a gloved hand coming to rest
on his shoulder. "Ah suppose it'd be easy enough, but if we succeeded,
who else would we have to pick on?"
"It's nice to know I have a purpose in life."
"That's why you're at this school, Drake," Scott Summers smiled from
the doorway leading to the kitchen. "Everyone needs a purpose."
"Somehow, I always thought I'd be learning trade skills. Stuff that'll
help me out in the job market," Drake sighed.
"Every good office needs a doormat," Jubilee chipped in.
"True enough," Summers agreed. "Want to practice your welcoming skills
at White Plains Airport?"
"You mean come with you to pick up the new guys?" Drake perked up.
"Sure. Anything that gets me away from this coven of witches."
"Hey!" The trio of girls cried out.
Drake stuck his tongue out in reply and followed behind his teacher. A
<Paf> exploding by his ear indicated that no hard feelings remained
behind - had there been, that explosion would have been in his ear,
not near it.
"Maybe they had problems at customs at Kennedy," Bobby suggested as he
and Summers waited at the small airport. "It's travel season, you
"Yeah, I know," the man only a few knew as Cyclops smiled. One of the
things that intrigued him about Bobby Drake was the younger man's
ability to seem so overwhelmed and overmatched one minute and so
mature and capable the next. Jean saw it as a frustrating lack of
willingness to apply himself, but Scott saw it as just another side
effect of being an awkward teenaged boy.
"I've never ridden in a helicopter before. It's probably so different
than a plane," Bobby mused aloud as they watched the landing pad.
"It's a lot noisier," Scott agreed. "And you feel a lot less protected
than you do in a plane."
"Can you fly one?"
"Not solo. I've had a few lessons, but not enough for a license."
"Are you going to get one?"
"A helicopter or a license?"
"Depends on whether Professor Xavier wants to get a helicopter. It
takes a lot of time to get the license and there are other things to
"Like come up with cruel and sadistic grammar quizzes, right?"
"Right. It takes hours to find the most convoluted sentences possible
for you guys to diagram."
"You need a hobby, Mr. Summers."
"I have a hobby, Bobby. I save the world in my spare time."
"Yeah, right. Is that them?" Drake pointed towards two men exiting a
"Could be. The bigger one looks like Piotr Rasputin, but I can't tell
what the smaller one looks like."
Bobby studied the figure in the baseball cap and sunglasses. "Is he
hiding from someone?"
"From everyone, but he's not in legal trouble. If that's Kurt Wagner,
then I think that he's just not sure whether the image inducer is
"His real face is that noticeable?"
"Depends on what you think of blue fur."
"Hey, Hank McCoy is mi amigo. I happen to think quite highly of blue
"Which is why, Drake, you are at a school for freaks. Come, let us
greet our new comrades."