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  • domenika marzione
    Author: domenika marzione (nikimarzione@yahoo.com) Rating: pg Notes: post-movie, addition of comics-canon characters Archive: anywhere, just lemme know. Can
    Message 1 of 1 , Oct 31, 2000
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      Author: domenika marzione (nikimarzione@...)
      Rating: pg
      Notes: post-movie, addition of comics-canon characters
      Archive: anywhere, just lemme know. Can also be found at:
      http://www.geocities.com/nikimarzione/fictive.html
      Feedback: As long as it's either constructive or flattering.
      Preferably both. :)
      Disclaimers: Textual Poaching zone ahead. Marvel owns everything.


      ***
      "Piotr Rasputin? Kurt Wagner?" Scott Summers called to the pair. The
      head under the baseball cap turned around. "Herr Summers?"

      "Call me Scott," Cyclops held out his hand and smiled. "This is one of
      our students, Bobby Drake."

      Handshakes all around and Bobby was struck by how nervous Wagner was.

      "You know, the image inducer really does look good. You can't see the
      fur at all," Drake offered to the skittish German. "I wouldn't know if
      I hadn't touched your hand."

      "Ja? I spent a long time in front of the mirror looking for something
      that might give me away, but. You like the look?"

      "Quite the swashbuckler," Bobby agreed. "Errol Flynn, right?"

      "Smart young man," Wagner said to Summers.

      "He's not bad, but you'll have to thank Hank McCoy for the movie
      trivia. The only Robin Hood that Frosty here knows is the Disney
      version," Summers smiled.

      "I saw that," the hulking Russian smiled shyly. "With the animals,
      right?"

      "Yeah, Maid Marion was a fox, literally," Bobby smiled. Rasputin
      looked confused.

      "A fox is a pretty woman," Wagner explained.

      "Ah."

      "Why don't we get on our way?" Scott asked. "Professor Xavier is eager
      to meet you. He'd have come himself, but he had a teleconference."

      The ride back was fairly quiet - Rasputin seemed transfixed by the
      scenery through the car window and Kurt and Scott were discussing
      soccer in the front seats, so Bobby closed his eyes. He had gotten up
      early to do a Danger Room session with Hank - McCoy had cleaned his
      clock, again - and he had missed lunch by tagging along to the
      airport.

      The younger kids were playing freeze-tag when the car pulled into the
      drive, although some of the older students were playing along. Scott
      had to honk the horn to get Kitty to move from where she was 'frozen'.
      She indicated that they should drive through her - she'd phase through
      them - but Scott called out the window for her to move.

      "C'mon Kitty, don't scare the newbies before they've gotten settled,"
      Drake called to his friend after they had parked. "You don't want them
      to find out what they are in for until later."

      "What are we 'in for', Bobby?" Piotr asked, brow furrowed in concern.

      "Oh, nothing. I'm just kidding with Kitty. We tease each other a lot,"
      Drake shrugged. "Hey, Pryde, come over and say hello."

      "I can't, I'm frozen," she called back. "Theo's 'it' and he gets
      really cross if we break the rules."

      "Fine, we'll come there," Bobby shook his head. "And then you can
      explain how someone who can phase got tagged in the first place."

      "We're playing 'no powers'," she smirked. "Besides, I let him catch
      me. He really wanted to freeze one of the big people and Doctor Grey
      couldn't play."

      "Sure, that's it," Bobby drawled. "Piotr Rasputin, meet Kitty Pryde.
      Kitty, this is Piotr, one of our two new residents."

      "Pleasure to meet you," Kitty looked around for Theo before shaking
      the Russian's hand. In the distance a boy's voice could be heard
      shouting about no cheating.

      "It is all mine," Rasputin smiled brightly.

      All of a sudden, Bobby Drake got a sinking feeling in his stomach.
      Especially when he saw Kitty smile back.

      "Where's Rogue?" Bobby asked. Maybe the big Russian would be more
      entranced by the resident southern belle than by Kitty. If McCoy was
      right, Rasputin might stand a chance against Logan.

      Kitty shrugged. "Haven't seen her since you left."

      Bobby followed Scott and the two newcomers inside and then went down
      to the lab - it was a nice out and he *knew* Hank hadn't seen the sun
      in days. Besides, McCoy could console him as Bobby mooned over falling
      two farther back on the date-ability depth chart. Especially after
      Wagner had proven to be a suave lady-killer, bowing and pirouetting as
      he greeted first Jubilee and then Kitty, the latter of whom still
      managed to sneak a glance at Rasputin.

      ***

      "Hey, Hankster!"

      "Must you, Robert?" McCoy looked up tiredly from his microscope. "'
      Hank' is already a nickname. You don't need to create an additional
      diminutive. Especially as anything implying miniaturization is either
      cruelly ironic or just plain cruel."

      "You have no sense of humor, *Henry*," Bobby moved from the doorway
      into the lab. "I can't make Star Trek jokes, you won't let me give you
      my own nickname for you. I don't think you really like me at all. I
      think you just use me for my twinkie-stealing abilities."

      "You do have a way with purloining that particular incarnation of
      heaven's manna," McCoy allowed. "I do like you, Robert. I just have a
      wildly fluctuating appreciation for your particular brand of
      nominalism."

      "Let me write that sentence down so that in ten years I can see if I'
      ve gotten smart enough to decipher it," Drake smirked.

      McCoy raised an eyebrow, but continued. "I presume you and our
      Fearless Leader have returned with the new inmates?"

      "Yeah, Errol Flynn and the bad guy from 'Rocky 4'," Bobby frowned. "We
      definitely need more girls around here."

      "You shouldn't sell yourself so short, young Master Drake," McCoy
      shook his head. "The idea is not to think about what you lack with
      respect to others, but what those others lack with respect to you."

      "Rasputin lacks my scrawny frame and Wagner lacks my awkwardness
      around the female of the species. You shoulda seen him, Hank. Summers
      is gonna have to keep an eye on Doctor Grey."

      "He already does, or else you haven't noticed a particular tension
      between him and a certain rough-hewn Canadian," McCoy smiled. "One of
      the things that makes him leader material is."

      <Henry McCoy! Please come to my first-floor office promptly!>

      "Summons from the Great Egg?" Drake asked as he watched his friend
      wince suddenly.

      "Yeah," the blue-furred young man sighed.

      "I think Xavier used to train dogs when he was younger," Bobby
      suggested. "'Here, boy!' and all that."

      "You heard him?"

      "Nah, but you had that put-upon look you get when you're being asked
      to suffer stupidity - and I know that look too well - or when you
      think you're being talked down to," Drake shrugged. "And he treats all
      of us like that."

      McCoy laughed and shook his head as he grabbed his clipboard - he had
      a feeling he'd need it - and followed Drake out the lab door. "You
      definitely shouldn't sell yourself so short. I'll see you later?"

      "Hey, I'm not gonna pass up a chance to see 'Casablanca' on the big
      screen," Bobby scoffed. "Even if I have to have a blue-furred
      bio-medical engineer as my 'date'."

      "Maybe you should ask some of the girls if they want to come," McCoy
      winced.

      ***

      "Professor Xavier must have pulled some strings to get Wagner
      matriculated so late in the semester," Ororo Munro mused aloud as she
      organized her class notes. "We've had so many problems with
      Manhattanville's registrar in the past."

      "A telepathic 'you will obey' might have worked," Jean Grey smiled.
      "Actually though, I think it was closer to a healthy helping of
      Catholic guilt - the trustees wouldn't want to hear that a devout soul
      such as Kurt Wagner was being sent across town to public school. That,
      or the tuition they know they'd be handing over to SUNY Purchase."

      "Don't make jokes about Catholics and money easing entrance into
      anything," Ororo shook her head. "I've just spent a week on the
      Reformation with the kids. I'm tempted to move forward their test so
      that we can get on to more pleasant topics."

      "I think I sense a very windy evening coming up."

      "You are most perceptive, dear friend," Storm smiled. "I promise no
      gales, however. It would be improper to ask the Earth to turn against
      herself just to ease my tension."

      "Just focus on the next holiday, that's what I do. Is that Piotr
      Rasputin wandering around outside looking lost?"

      "So it seems. He is a groundskeeper unfamiliar with the grounds, so
      the wandering will do him well," Ororo nodded.

      "I hope he at least knows where the tool shed is. I know he's used to
      just armoring up and doing by hand, but a little more subtlety is
      going to be needed with our suspicious neighbors."

      "It was explained to him, I imagine, and we should not mistake his
      quietness for dullness. Professor Xavier encouraged him to volunteer
      for teaching an elective in Russian Literature once he's more
      comfortable. He didn't say no, although he was hardly enthusiastic."

      "Oh, far be it for me to call him dumb," Jean spoke up. "I got to poke
      around in his head a little when I was introducing him to our system
      of telepathic communication. He learned how to shield much quicker
      than most do and the ones he created were actually quite unique."

      "Henry McCoy tells me that Piotr's an artistic sort," Ororo agreed.

      "Are you two gossiping again?" Scott Summers walked into the teachers'
      prep room carrying his books.

      "Ummm. would you be willing to classify it as a necessary information
      exchange?" Jean smiled at Ororo, who nodded.

      "In other words, gossip," Scott leaned over and pecked his girlfriend
      on the cheek with a kiss. "So what are we discussing?"

      "We?"

      "Well, if it isn't girl talk, then it's fair game, right?"

      "It *was* two girls talking," Storm began with a smile.

      "Don't try word play with me after two straight periods of grammar and
      then logic and rhetoric," Scott warned. "Either of the two of you feel
      like being Kurt Wagner's training buddy for his first weeks? I've put
      McCoy with Rasputin - strength versus strength - and I would like to
      match Wagner's agility with a suitable partner. At least until we know
      where they stand and can then mix-and-match."

      "I think Ororo would be best," Jean smiled. "She can drop boxes on him
      as well as I can." Left unsaid until later on was that keeping herself
      away from the flirtatious Bavarian was a good idea until Scott was
      comfortable with the idea that Wagner was merely being playful, not
      trying to poach.

      "Okay, I'll leave it up to the two of you to work up a schedule for
      the Danger Room," Scott nodded after Ororo signaled agreement. "I'm
      done teaching for the day, so I'm going to the garage to tinker."

      "Stop pouting," Jean called after him. "You really aren't that upset
      that Logan took your bike. And no, you haven't learned to shield from
      the psi-link yet."

      Ororo's chuckle was a mix of awe and a little but of envy. Telepathy,
      no matter how long she was exposed to it, still amazed the woman known
      as Storm. But when it was used to create a special bond between two
      lovers, it was all the more special.

      ***
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