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Hair of the Dog
by
Gax
The Don't-Sue-Me-Bit: All of it belongs to Marvel, with the exception of Cody, who is standing in front of the open refrigerator door of my psyche, staring at its contents, unable to decide what she wants to eat because she's not really hungry. I also don't own Flash Gordon or Queen, but they're really bitchen.
Background: Gods only know. It corresponds with no continuity, except for the Happy Magic Fantasy Land of Gax's Addled Brain. I just wanted to see what would happen if you threw Jean, Cyclops, Storm, Professor Chuck, Wolverine, Colossus, Nightcrawler, and Beast into a blender and added a stripper and a scene in the Danger Room.
Note: This is the third piece of fanfic I've ever shared with the 'net. Review it, and I will love you two times. Flame me, and I will close my eyes, stick my fingers in my ears, and hum "Mary Had a Little Lamb" really loud until you go away.
Dedicated to everyone who reads and reviews it. Hope you're likin' it.
Professor Xavier joined Scott at the console above the Danger Room. He looked down at Cody, loping toward the exit in her tee shirt and blue jeans as holographic obstacles vanished around her. "How did she do?"
Scott turned from the control panel. "Great. Amazing, in fact. She breezed through the simulations and accomplished all the objectives, without even breaking a sweat." He thanked God Jean wasn't there to hear him. After the initial blow-up about the strip club, she'd been giving him the deep freeze. Having Cody around as a walking, talking reminder hadn't helped. On the other hand, the woman drove Logan nuts, and he couldn't see a downside to Logan's attention being diverted from Jean. "What came up on the medical tests?"
"A number of things. Most of them quite puzzling." said Charles, pondering an earlier discussion with Jean. While Ms. Latrans physiology was not entirely human, her chromosomes revealed neither the mutant gene nor anything indicative of alien DNA. "And the maze? Did she complete it?"
"In record time. I think she could've done it blindfolded." The younger man shook his head. "It's like she's got some sort of sixth sense."
Xavier steepled his hands, pondering. This woman was definitely a puzzle. Fortunately, he knew exactly who could help him put the pieces together. In the meanwhile, he'd be very much interested to see how she faired against living opponents. "I want you to assemble the team for a session with her tomorrow morning. 10:00 a.m."
Next morning, there came a soft but insistent knock at the door to Cody's room.
"Go away." She growled into the pillow.
"Cody?" Her ears pricked up at the sound of Kurt's voice. "It's 9:30."
When she tried lifting her arm to block the sun in her eyes she found it, and every other part of her, was tangled up in the sheets. "And?"
"The Danger Room, remember?"
"Oh, right." She groaned. "Hold on. Gimme a minute."
Kurt heard something heavy hit the floor, then a loud "Ow!" He winced sympathetically. That was followed by a few moments of what sounded like stumbling, colored with not a little cursing, before the door opened. She stood before him in ripped, faded blue jeans, cowboy boots, and a tight black tank top with the words "I MAKE BOYS CRY" stenciled across the front in white letters. "Hey." She yawned and tied her hair back into a ponytail. "'Scuse the bedhead."
Even tired and rumpled, he still found her fetching. Do people even use that word anymore? He wondered. Looking at her, he almost forgot he was due to be beating her up in half an hour. "I thought you could use a little time to get ready."
"Not really. But things could get ugly if I don't get a cuppa coffee and a cigarette."
Shortly thereafter, cigarette smoked and a mug of coffee in her hand, they took the elevator down to the lower level and walked to the end of the corridor. He paused at the door. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to change into something else?"
"Like what?" She grinned. "A bird?"
He laughed. "I meant something perhaps moreäathletic?"
She glanced at his Xavier-emblazoned sweatpants and sweatshirt. Not being a team player, uniforms weren't exactly her style. "Nah. This is what I usually wear to kick ass, so I think I'll just go with it."
The door opened on the Danger Room. Cody took in her surroundings. The inside looked like the work of a sloppy demolition crew. Bricks, pipes, and pieces of masonry were scattered liberally about. A few dented, overturned dumpsters completed the urban decay motif. She drained her coffee and her gaze fell on her opponents.
The X-Men stood together, strong and proud, in their uniforms.
Cody burst out in a fit of snorting laughter, slapping her thigh and gasping for air as she doubled over.
"You mind lettin' us in on the joke?" Logan asked darkly.
"You actually wear those things?" She managed to choke out, looking at Jean and Ororo, in the tightest, brightest spandex outfits she'd ever seen. "And you bag on me for being a stripper? Believe me, those don't leave much to the imagination. I'd never wear somethin' like that without getting paid. A lot." Ororo looked down at her uniform, wondering what was wrong with it. Jean fumed.
Scott resembled a blue and yellow Peter Pan. Peter looked as though he'd been raiding the wardrobe trailer for Flash Gordon. The one with the Soundtrack by Queen. And Loganäblue and yellowäwith the tightsäand the pointy headgearä
She burst out laughing again.
"Ms Latrans." Xavier's exasperated voice came over the loudspeaker. "We'd like to get started, if you don't mind."
"Right. Sorry." She wiped her eyes. "Ready whenever you are."
Nightcrawler had discarded his sweats and walked over to join his teammates. Hid red, white, and black uniform lovingly hugged every muscle on his lithe body, and there were a lot of them. She had to admit he looked good, even if it was in a circus-y, trapeze artist sort of way. Cody stifled a snicker. "Et tu, Kurt?"
Wolverine cracked his knuckles. She ain't gonna be laughin' for long.
"Your objective, Ms. Latrans, is to cross the room and push that red button on the far wall."
"What's the catch?"
"We will be trying to stop you." Said Colossus. Cody watched his entire body turn into what looked like solid, banded steel. Storm's eyes glazed over white, and a wind grew out of nothing to envelop and raise her twenty feet off the floor. Jean glanced at a chunk of masonry and sent it rocketing toward the ceiling. Cyclops adjusted his visor and let fly with a bright red beam that blew it into fragments. In the blink of an eye, three metal claws extended from Wolverine's right hand, taking on a lethal gleam in the light. With an acrobatic leap, Nightcrawler landed on the wall, clinging to it comfortably at a ninety-degree angle to the floor.
In a one-on-one fight, she was pretty sure she considered herself an even match for any of them. But it was readily apparent that they had a lot of experience fighting as a team. She was certain at least two of them wanted to personally kick her ass, and the other four probably weren't too happy with the cracks she'd just made about their costumes.
Wolverine could smell the nervousness on her. "Feeling outgunned?" he grinned wickedly.
Cody cracked her neck and shook the tension out of her body. The scent of her fear began to evaporate, slowly being replaced with that sharp bristling smell he remembered her giving off during the fight in the bar. "Wouldn't be the first time." A toothsome, feral smile broke across her mouth.
They already knew she was fast; they were probably relying on her to use her speed. If she made an out-and-out break for the button, she could probably even outrun whoever would come after her. But more than likely, one of them would throw an obstruction in her way while someone else came up from behind, and she would be trapped. One thing was certain. If she wound herself up trying to second-guess them, she was sure to lose. The human brain was always buzzing with thoughts and emotions, processing details before it would let the body take action.
Of course, Cody's brain wasn't exactly human.
Time to listen to instinct.
A coyote's first order of business when hunting big game is to find the weak spots in their prey. Time to push this herd and see how they ran.
The group fanned out at her approach, Storm maintaining her position in the air above them. Nightcrawler remained glued to the wall, his tail flicking back and forth. Cyclops moved to her right, Jean to her left. Colossus was behind her and Wolverine stood directly in her path.
She tossed the cup to Wolverine, who caught it reflexively. While his hands were busy, she bolted past him in a dead run straight at Jean. Colossus's echoing footsteps told her he was on her heels. Cyclops had his visor at the ready, but Cody was moving so fast, he couldn't fire without the risk of hitting his girlfriend.
She saw the look of concentration on Jean's face. Red's powering up. She's gonna toss me right into Peter. At the speed she was going, she felt the first touch of the telekinetic wave brush against her skin in slow motion. Banking left, it glanced off her shoulder like a hard shove. The shove hit Colossus in the chest, and though it wasn't enough to topple him, it did stop him in his tracks. Coming up fast behind him, Wolverine had to catch himself to keep from colliding with his teammate. In the split second Jean pondered what the hell had just happened, Cody zagged around her and made a break for the button.
Then she heard the bamf.
In a puff of light and brimstone, Nightcrawler appeared before her, crouched and ready to spring. Cody came to a screeching halt in front of him with a few feet to spare. She glanced over her shoulder, giving him the chance to jump her just to see if he would take it. Cyclops, Jean, Colossus, and Wolverine were bearing down on herãthe last on smelling particularly pissed off.
When she glanced back, Nightcrawler was exactly as she'd left him. By her reckoning, it came down to two possibilities. If he was in Errol Flynn mode, he wouldn't make the first move against a woman. More likely, he was braced for a direct attack, figuring she didn't have enough room to pull off anything acrobatic. With no small effort, she proved him wrong by leaping over his head. She landed in a painful, sloppy tangle of limbs, but she'd cleared him by at least a couple of yards. Scrambling to her feet, she took off running.
Looking up, Cody saw Storm hovering in the air, halfway between her and the button. The wind was coming. No use resisting it. She didn't try to dodge the gust, but took the full force of it. Tucking into a roll, she was bowled past the other X-Men to the far side of the room.
Dusting herself off, she took a moment to review what she'd learned as the group started towards her. They've figured out that trapping me on two sides won't work, so they'll probably try to surround me if they can. My best bet is to play them off against each other. Easier said than done. She had a pretty clear idea of what each of them could do, but that was different from being able to predict what they would do. Cody closed her eyes for a moment, praying for the smallest bit of inspiration to strike before they arrived to pummel her.
When she opened them, everything was different.
She had the Totem Sight. It was one of Coyote's long-promised gifts, dangled in front of her for as long as she could remember, but never actually given. The ability to see someone as they really were. It offered a view of the shape of their soul, a vision of the creature that lived inside them, walked with them, lent them its power. And that knowledge made someone very predictable.
What she saw in their place was a group of animals, charging toward her like there was a forest fire at their backs. Storm, gliding above them all, bore the semblance of a white, speckled falcon unlike Cody had ever seen. She would stay above it all, surveying the actions of her teammates, and act only when it was necessary. Colossus now wore the skin of a huge brown bearãwhich, truth be told, was more intimidating than the banded steel. He was strong, but he knew his limits. He wouldn't waste his energy chasing her, but if he got his hands on her there would be no getting away. Jean and Cyclops were two sleek mountain lions, prowling purposefully toward her. They considered themselves to be at the top of the food chain, and would be the first to strike. Nightcrawler shimmied along the wall in the nimble body of a blue-black marten. He would stay out of the fray, keep to himself until things heated up, and when the time was right, jump in so quick she wouldn't know what hit her. Wolverine was his namesake; a dark, bristling piece of ferocity, running toward her with teeth bared, hackles up, and claws out. Intimidation was his game. Scare her so bad she ran to the others just to get away from him.
What's a coyote to do?
Midway between her and them, a dented dumpster lay on its side. She couldn't vouch for its structural integrity, but it would probably work as a springboard. If she was right, they would expect her to use it as a jump-off point to sail right over them. If she wasn'tãwell, she'd burn that bridge when she came to it. Breaking into a run, she headed straight for it. They changed direction like a flock of birds to follow her movement.
Cody's boot heels came down hard on the metal, kicking up an echo that rang after her as she leapt into the air.
They turned their heads to follow the trajectory of her flight. With a hard twist, she brought herself down right in
the middle of them, with half the group facing where she might have been instead of where she actually was. That left her facing Colossus, Nightcrawler, and Wolverine.
"Sorry, Kurt."
Before he could move, she wrapped her arms around him, laying a kiss on him that made his knees go weak and his tail point straight out. His teammates could only stand by and gape. When they came up for air, she was holding him up. Catching his breath, he managed to ask, "What are you sorry for?"
"This." Shifting her hands to his chest, she grabbed the front of his uniform. Dropping to the floor on her back, she planted her feet in his abdomen and flung him upward into Storm.
By then, everyone had gathered wits and she was surrounded: Cyclops to her right, Colossus to her left, Jean in front of her, and Logan at her back. This would be less easy. Cyclops let fly with a beam. Cody grabbed the bottom of her tank top and lifted it up just far enough to reveal that she wasn't wearing anything underneath. He looked away, sending the beam arcing into Colossus. Most of it ricocheted off his chest, but he went down. Jean, beyond furious at that point, flung a wave of force her way. With no time and no room to dodge, Cody hit the floor on her stomach, and the wave picked up Wolverine and threw him into the far wall.
Peeking over her shoulder, Cody said, "That would've been ugly."
Jumping to her feet, she blew past Jean and Cyclops, and made a beeline for the button.
Storm was a step ahead of her. Cody could feel the wind coming. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a handful of dry twigs, scattering them in a line in front of her. Bringing every ounce of focus she had to bear, she called up a fire from inside herself. The twigs caught in a neat little blaze. When the wind hit, Cody raised her arms, and a twenty-foot wall of flame surged toward the ceiling. She stepped through, emerging unsinged on the other side.
There was no more than five yards between her and the target. Throwing herself into the final length, she pushed her speed to its limit. The damp cotton at her back caught a chill from the wind created in her passing.
With less than six feet between her and the goal, Nightcrawler teleported directly into her path. At the clip she was going, there was no way she could stop. "Sorry, Cody." Dropping into a crouch, he caught her around the legs.
She hit the floor flat on her chest. Hard. The force of the fall knocked most of the wind out of her, but her right hand reached out. With inches between her and victory, something coiled around her wrist like a bullwhip. His tail. Summoning her last ounce of strength, her left hand shot forward, and her fist punched the button down.
For a long moment, the only sound in the room was Cody's ragged breathing as she gasped for air. Kurt untangled himself from her and she managed to prop herself up on one arm. "Did I win?"
There was a pause, and then the Professor's voice came over the loudspeaker. "You completed the objective, yes."
"Great." She got to her feet before Kurt had a chance to help her up. Her lungs were burning from exertion, her shins were killing her, and she felt like someone had hit her in the ribs with a two-by four. Repeatedly.
"Ms. Latrans, I'd like you to go to the infirmary so Jean can examine you for injuries."
"Yeah, that'd be fun." She mumbled under her breath. "I'm fine. Hot bath, and I'll be right as rain."
"I'm afraid I must insist."
"Insist all you want. I'll pass." It had taken everything she had, but she had come out on top. The last thing she was going to do now was take any help from them.
With a hand to her ribs, Cody staggered past all of them and walked out the door.
* * * *
The post-session meeting was not going smoothly.
Xavier rubbed his temples. The telepathic shouting was bad enough. The actual shouting was well nigh unbearable. "Everyone, please." He said sternly. "Scott, what are your thoughts?"
He spoke quickly, as though he didn't need to consider his answer in the least. "She cheated, pure and simple. Her behavior was so far outside the rules I don't think the results should be counted."
"What rules?" Kurt was incredulous. "All she was given was a goal, which she accomplished, despite the considerable odds stacked against her. She did what she had to do. We are to punish her for that?"
"Kurt, please. I would like to hear what Jean has to say."
Her voice was like ice. "I agree with Scott: She cheated, pure and simple. Her actions were so inappropriate, I don't think the outcome can be considered valid."
Kurt's yellow eyes narrowed. "Are you sure this isn't personal on your part, Jean?"
"You're accusing me of being biased?" She thundered. "I wasn't the one who played tonsil hockey with her!"
He was about to retort, when the Professor held up his hand. "Ororo?"
Storm drew a breath, considering her words carefully before she spoke. "While I agree that her methods wereäunorthodox, to say the least, she did accomplish the goal she was given. She also did so without causing any physical harm to any one of us."
"Peter, what are your thoughts?"
Folding his hands on the table, Peter frowned. "She did complete the test, and did so without hurting anyone, but I am...uncomfortable with the methods she used." He said. "She did not play fair."
Kurt bit down on the thought threatening to shoot out of his mouth. How fair was it to set her against the six of us? Even as he wanted to defend her, he found himself uneasy. That kiss. The kind of kiss that made you wonder what you had thought a kiss was before you had it. A kiss like that wasn't given without feeling of some kind. He felt the pads of his fingers brush his lip, and folded his hands on the table, hoping no one had seen. Still, what did she mean by it? Was it just a diversion to her? Had she just used him? And if she hadähow could someone fake that kind of feeling? His head was spinning.
Without being asked, Logan spoke up. "Elf's right. She did what she had to do, and she won. We don't have to like the way she did it. I don't. But that dudn't give us the right to say it didn't happen." He paused before continuing. "I think she should leave."
The room fell silent. Finally, Xavier spoke. "Why?"
"Look at us." He nodded at the assembly. "She's not even here and we're at each others throats."
"Logan, I understand how you feel. But especially now, in light of we saw in the Danger Room, I believe it's more important than ever that we find what she's capable of."
"She sized up our weaknesses and played us off against each other in less than five minutes, Chuck." He got up from the table. "Is that someone you really want around?"
That wasn't all of it, not by a longshot, but the rest he didn't feel like going over in "share time." Sweeping a hand through his hair, Logan headed for the door. He needed some air.
* * *
Cody stretched out her legs in the hot water. Bending over to massage the life back into her bruised shins, she tweaked the injury to her ribs, and had to bite her lip to keep from howling. Damn. That is some hurt.
A wicked little smile came to her face. Pride was a pretty good analgesic.
She'd beaten them. All six of them. Alone. It had taken everything she had and then some, but she had done it. With the odds against her. In fact, the "odds" were probably arguing about it in some secret room this very minute, which as far as she was concerned, was just an added bonus.
So why wasn't she entirely happy about it?
Part of her was. The part that had psyched them out. The part that had flashed Scott. The part that had won.
Then there was the other part. The part of her that had kissed Kurt. Not that there was anything to regret about that, in and of itself. Soft lips, sharp canines, and a tongue as agile as the rest of him. Even in her considerable experience (a number hovering somewhere around the population of the eastern seaboard), he was up there. Truth be told, the best. But she had promised herself she wasn't going there, and there she had gone. Head first and eyes closed.
It didn't take much to spot that he had a weakness for women. An admirable quality in her book. And she had used it against him. Used him. A strange unpleasant sensation needled at the back of her head. It took her a moment to realize what it was. If this is what it's like to have a conscience, it sucks.
Before plunging headlong into guilt, she tried to remind herself that she hadn't had much of a choice. That didn't last long. Everything we do is a choice, from the first breath we take in this world. Trying to believe anything else is just a fancy way of lying to yourself.
Cody forced herself away from that train of thought. What was she supposed to do, kiss Logan? He would've skewered me. She hadn't missed the look in his eyes, either. Disappointed, with a heavy dose of pissed off. It was doubtful she was in his good graces at the moment.
Why do I give a rat's ass what that surly little caveman thinks? That prompted a whole barrage of thoughts she didn't feel like thinking, and she ducked under the water, hoping to drown them.
* * * *
Henry McCoy sped down Graymalkin Lane, maneuvering his convertible red sportster with a driving style more indicative of a professional racer than a man who held twelve doctorates. Not that he needed to go so fast, per se; Charles hadn't indicated an urgency in his request. But the temptation to go for broke on a road he knew so well (including all the spots where he was most likely to encounter law enforcement) was simply irresistible. Especially on a day such as this, warm and fine, with just a hint of summer on the blossom-scented breeze. He savored the wind in his hair and the sun on his face, humming a jaunty tune as he blithely ignored the speed limit. Besides, Charles owned most of everything along the lane, rendering his chances of encountering someone he didn't know virtually nil. He was certain his skill behind the wheel was more than up to dodging any X-Men who might be tooling about.
Cody lay on her stomach in front of the big screen TV in the living room, surfing through channels with reckless abandon in the hopes of finding anything even remotely distracting. Gunsmoke. Jerry Springer. Teletubbies. Bass Fishing. Bonanza.
Her fidgety boredom was interrupted by the sound of a well-tooled engine coming up the drive. Jumping to her feet she went to the window for a look.
A vintage red roadster came to a halt inches from her back bumper. Rather than getting pissed off at a close call, she had to admire the way he handled his car. Besides, that paint job didn't have a scratch on it. Nice ride.
The driver was a big guy. Huge was closer to the mark, really. Probably about six feet tall, but damn near that broad across the shoulders. Through the shimmery image of an enormous white guy he projected over himself (one of those little gadgets, she guessed), she saw an enormous blue guy underneath. He vaulted out of the car with astonishing agility, clutching a laptop case in a hand the size of a cast-iron skillet. They sure do grow 'em blue around here. And nimble. Snappy dresser, too. White silk shirt, sharp gray slacks. Not the kind of stuff you find in a strip-mall big & tall shop. Getting a look at his gargantuan feet, she could hardly blame him for passing on the matching shoes.
She was on her way out to introduce herself when Logan stopped her at the living room door. "We hafta talk." His voice was a low growl.
Rolling her eyes, she breezed past him like he wasn't there. "Later."
His fingers closed around her wrist. "No." Not hard enough to hurt, but she wasn't going anywhere, either. "Now."
Cody wasn't good at being afraid. Spending most of her time around regular people, she hadn't had a reason to been afraid in years. But his hand locked around her wrist--the feeling of being trapped--unable to get awayãblack panic surged up from some long-forgotten place. Suddenly, for no reason she could put a name to, she wanted to run, far and fast, but her feet were rooted in something, almost, but not quite a memory. She couldn't break away, couldn't move. Could hardly breathe.
Logan felt the change come over her. Her entire body tensed, fighting the urge to bolt. The smell of fear rippled off her like heatwaves and he could her the staccato beating of her heart, going a mile a minute. She wasn't just nervous: she was terrified. What the hell was going on? He hadn't meant to scare her, just corner her, make her hear him out.
The air around his body became noticeably hotter. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his neck, and his arms. Her voice was a low growl through gritted teeth, completely at odds with the panic he saw in her eyes. "Take your hand off me or they'll need dental records to I.D. the corpse."
She meant it. He knew it.
She didn't move, but he could feel her struggling. Straining to swallow the harm before it could get out. He knew what that felt like, too well, but he had never seen someone else go through it. And the heat kept rising. His shirt was soaked. If something didn't give, and soon, one of them was going to end up dead.
Logan let go. Cody took a step back. The temperature dropped.
"Look, I didn't come here to fight with ya, but there's a coupla things we gotta get straight." He was still sweating.
"Then spit it out." The adrenaline was starting to ebb, and she flexed her hands to keep them from shaking.
"Fine. I want you to leave."
She snorted. "What, the Xavier get all bent 'cause I beat up his prize pupils? He send you down here to show me the door?"
"First off, lady, you didn't beat us up. Second, I came on my own." He could hear her rev from difficult toward impossible. He didn't want to have this conversation, but somebody had to do it. "I'm tired of you playin' headgames with my friends."
He was starting to piss her off. "If anyone's gettin' played, it's me. I've been poked, prodded, probed and run through mazes, and no one has told me shit about why I'm really here."
"So why don't you leave?"
She sighed irritably. "Listen, I'd love to help you out, but I gave the Professor my word. He got me out of a jam, and I owe him."
"Yeah, and you're payin' him back, all right." Logan snarled. "Eatin' him out of house and home and drivin' a wedge between his team." There was more to it than that, but nothing he was willing to talk about. Especially with her.
"You know what, claw-boyã" She stopped. He was holding something back. She could feel it. Her eyes narrowed. "That's not all there is to it, is there? You're leaving something out."
Logan stiffened. "That's a load ofã"
"Save it." Cody snapped. She took a step toward him. "There's something you're not telling me." The distance between them was closing. "You know I can look right in you and find out what it is." She was well into his personal space now, looking down into his eyes. "You really want me rootin' around in there?"
Unable to abide further vicarious tension, Hank cleared his throat.
Their heads snapped in his direction.
Dr. McCoy put on his best facsimile of a relaxed smile. "Sorry to interrupt, Logan, but could you tell me where I might find Charles?"
"Right here, Henry." The Professor was wheeling down the hallway toward them, seemingly unaware of the altercation that had very nearly taken place.
Logan stabbed a finger at her chest. "We'll finish this later." He stalked off down the hall in a huff.
"Yeah. Can't wait."
"You must be Ms. Latrans." Hank shifted his briefcase and reached out his hand. "I'm Dr. Henry McCoy."
She took it, the ghost of a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. "Call me Cody, Hank."
He smiled at her casual use of a nickname with a total stranger.
"I see you two have already met." Xavier came to a halt next to them. "I've called Henry in to consult on your genes and examine your physiology."
"Well." Hank took in her cocky smile and the way her eyes roved over him in what seemed to be a calculated effort to make him blush. Despite his best efforts at self-control, it seemed to be working. "That sounds interesting." Thumbing toward the door, she added, "By the way, nice ride."
"Thank you."
She turned and loped down the hall, leaving him staring after her.
"Charles, you never allowed fireworks in the house when I was an X-Man." He commented wryly.
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