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FIC: Fifth Period (1/1) - PG, Roguecentric foof/silliness

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  • Donna Bevan
    Title: Fifth Period (1/1) Author: Donna Bevan Rating: PG Category: foof - sheer foof Summary: You d think a mutant would do well in genetics class,
    Message 1 of 1 , Feb 7, 2002
      Title: Fifth Period (1/1)
      Author: Donna Bevan
      Rating: PG
      Category: foof - sheer foof
      Summary: You'd think a mutant would do well in genetics class, wouldn't
      you? Personal interest, and all… ;)
      Disclaimer: If you think it's mine, then start taking your drugs
      again. Besides, you'd look better without the tin foil hat.

      Note: This is for Khaki's "opening sequence" challenge. It's silly. It's
      very nearly retarded. But it was fun to write. ;)


      They died instantly. The girls, however, didn't figure it out until the
      next day.

      Fifth period, to be exact.

      Rogue gasped in shock, then slammed her gloved hand down on the
      black-topped table. "I do not *believe* this!"

      Jubilee raised her head from the table, blinking at the outburst. Upon
      seeing Rogue's exasperated expression, she removed her earphones and
      narrowed her eyes. "Dude… Tell me it didn't."

      "You know it, " she growled in response, gritting her teeth. "Look at this
      - teeny little carcasses everywhere."

      Jubilee cringed. This wasn't good. Not only had Rogue been in a foul mood
      to beat all other foul moods for the last three weeks, but she'd already
      lost several colonies. More deaths equaled badness, not to mention summer

      Jubilee *hated* summer school.

      Hank McCoy, meanwhile, had taken note of the commotion and lumbered
      over. "Is everything quite all right, Miss Rogue? Are you having a
      problem with your Drosophilae?"

      "You're damn skippy I'm havin' a problem," she replied unthinkingly. Then
      her hand flew to her mouth. "I'm sorry, Dr. McCoy. I'm *so* sorry."

      "It's quite fine, " he reassured her. "What is the matter?"

      She looked miserably at the tube in he hand. "It happened again," she said

      "Oh, dear." Hank peered down at the tube over his half-spectacles. "What
      did you -- I mean, how?"

      Rogue sighed. "Just like the last three times. I put the Flytrap -- "

      "Er, don't you mean Flynap?"

      She nodded, blushing. "Yeah, that stuff. I put it in the tube, and we
      counted them. But that was yesterday, and they still haven't woken up."

      Hank rubbed his blue furry chin. Perplexed, he studied the specimens and
      equipment scattered across the table. He took the tube in question from
      Rogue's hand and shook it gently. Sure enough, there was no movement
      within it, just a layer of dark bodies on top of the aqua-green sludge at
      the bottom.

      He sighed. "Did you get Flynap on the stopper?"


      "What about the tube? Did you rap it hard enough to make them stick to the

      "Uh-uh. Jubes watched."

      "Hmm." He paused, then checked the table again. "Where's the wand you used?"

      Rogue merely blinked up at him. "Wand?"

      "Yes, wand," he confirmed. "The apparatus used to deliver the anesthetic?"


      Again, he sighed, a long-suffering sound.

      "I just, uh, used this." She held an eyedropper aloft. "See, I filled it
      up and squeezed in drops. You know, until they stopped moving. It took
      about seven."

      If Jubilee hadn't known better, she'd have sworn that Hank choked on his
      own spit. "Miss Rogue… You are supposed to saturate the wand with
      anesthetic, place it in the tube for approximately two minutes, then
      *remove* it."

      She was very quiet and very still. "Oh."

      "I'm afraid you've killed your fruit flies. Again," he added.

      He was immediately sorry for his uncharacteristic lack of tact. Rogue's
      eyes began to well up with tears.

      "Okie dokie," Jubilee interjected. "I think we've had enough science for
      one day." She took Rogue's shoulders and turned her away from the lab
      table. "We'll try again later, huh?"

      Hank tried to smile kindly at the dark-haired girl who'd only been at the
      school for several weeks. "Rogue, everyone experiences occasional mishaps
      in the laboratory." His smile grew wider as he laughed silently at his own

      If only they knew.

      The young woman they called the Rogue, however, wasn't listening. She was
      whispering miserably to Jubilee. "First I accidentally mixed the medium
      with ethyl alcohol instead of water…"

      "Hey, so you loaded them up on vodka, so what? They died happy."

      Rogue shook her head. "Then I put too much yeast in the tube, and gave
      them all carbon dioxide poisonin'."

      Jubilee bit her lip. "Okay, that was a little worse…"

      Rogue's slight shoulders slumped. "And now I've Flynapped them to
      death. I *suck*, Jubes."

      "Hey, hey. It's been a rough couple of weeks. You don't even have to *do*
      this right now, you know. Genetics class can wait. You need to relax,
      girl. Give yourself a chance to get oriented."

      Hank stepped up to them. "I quite agree, Miss Rogue. Now, if you'd truly
      like to stay in line with the rest of the class, then I have a
      suggestion. I'd very much like for you to do a bit of research for me."

      She swiped her hand across her cheek. "What kind?"

      He pondered that for a brief moment, hoping she wouldn't realize he was
      flying by the seat of his pants. "In the latter part of the twentieth
      century, geneticists became aware of certain beneficial mutations that
      occur in humans. I'd like for you to find an example of one and write a
      short report on the mutation and its benefits."

      Jubilee was formulating a humorous comment about her sparklies when Rogue
      nodded and said, "You mean like sickle cell anemia."

      It was Hank's turn to blink. "Pardon?"

      "Sickle cell anemia," she repeated slowly. "People afflicted with the
      disease are less likely to contract malaria from mosquitoes. Scientists
      believe that, from an evolutionary standpoint…" She trailed off, then
      furrowed her brow.

      Jubilee gaped openly. "Jesus. Someone's on Jeopardy overload. Repeat
      after me, babe - Alex Trebek is the Antichrist."

      Hank ignored Jubilee. "I see you've been doing research on this already,"
      he observed.

      "No," she denied. "I don't know how I…" Her eyes grew wide. "Logan."

      Hank had been in California on personal business when Rogue had arrived at
      the school. He'd rushed back, but had missed meeting the mysterious man
      called Logan. Jean, however, had briefed him on the events that had
      transpired, including Rogue's absorption of the Wolverine's powers - and
      his personality, apparently.

      It would seem that Scott had grossly underestimated the man's intelligence.

      Jubilee kept gaping at Rogue. "Great. If Logan had to watch a late-night
      Learning Channel special, why couldn't it have been one about fruit flies?"

      Hank shot her a quelling look and nodded at Rogue. "Sickle cell
      anemia. I'll expect your report tomorrow. In the meantime," he added,
      "why don't you retire to the common room? It's two o'clock."

      "What happens at two o'clock?"

      Jubilee nudged her with an elbow. "The Prof heckles Judge Judy. It's
      *hilarious*. Let's go."



      I don't want to be a geek groupie. Though I'd like to go on record as
      saying right now that I think the world needs more of those.

      [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
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