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Star-Spangled Badness
by
Gax
The Don't-Sue-Me-Bit: Marvel owns all of it, except for Cody, who has just finished smackin' me upside the head, saying, "Jeeee-zuz! 'Bout time you got me back in the saddle."
Warning: Nudity, cotton-mouth, bad hangovers, some cussin', and what some may consider desecration of the American Flag (long may it wave).
This is dedicated to all you folks who harrassed/supported me in my time of need with your considerate e-mails. It meant a lot, I surely did appreciate it. So, I hope you dig it, 'cause I'm writin' it for you.
At exactly 6:00 a.m. (Eastern Standard Time), Dr. Henry McCoy opened his eyes, fully awake as he was every morning at this time. Full cognizance, however, was another matter. He was not entirely certain where he was. His glasses seemed to be missing, and his tongue was not only desiccated, but also felt as though it was four sizes too large for his mouth.
Noting the layer of dew on his fur, he ascertained that he was outside. In point of fact, he was curled up in the bowl of one of the larger satellite dishes at the back of the house. There was a blanket of sorts draped over him, which, upon closer inspection in the dawn's early light, revealed itself as the American Flag. A tentative peek at his backside beneath the material confirmed his suspicion that he was quite naked.
Something moved beside him.
With trembling hand, he lifted the other side of the blanket.
Cody, also naked, was curled up against the front of him, her head burrowed into the fur of his chest, her hand clutching a half-drunk beer bottle, and snoring softly.
They were nude, lying in a satellite dish, covered in the American Flag. And, try as he might, he could not remember how they had wound up there.
Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he summoned the courage to rouse her. "Uh...um, Cody?" he shook her gently.
"Piss off, Logan." She muttered into his chest.
Hank found himself mildly miffed. If a woman was going to wake up next to him--naked, no less--it seemed at least a matter of common courtesy that the first words she spoke were not another man's name. He shook her a bit harder this time. "Cody, wake up."
"Huh?" Startled, she drew back from him, bloodshot eyes trying to focus. The rope of drool connecting her mouth to his pectoral muscles did not escape his notice. "Oh, hey, Hank."
Hey, Hank? He was on the verge of a full-fledged panic attack, and that was the best she could do? "There's something I need to ask you, and it's very important that you-"
The expression on her face was something between a yawn and a laugh. "Relax. We didn't do the boogaloo."
"Boogaloo? We didn't?" He was too tired to check the immense sigh of relief that escaped his mouth.
It did go unnoticed by his erstwhile companion, who felt more than a little insulted. After all, there are far worse things in the world than a night of mind-blowing sex with me. She sat up a bit, bunching the flag around herself for warmth. "Nah. It was part of this whole Naked Shakespeare Festival thing you came up with."
Hank rubbed his temples. He felt the beginnings of a monstrous headache coming on. "Naked Shakespeare Festival?"
"Yeah. It was the only way I could get you down off the roof." She dropped her beer bottle to the ground and rummaged around the dish for cigarettes. Finding a crumpled pack, she shook one out, touched her finger to the end to light it, and took a long, deep drag. Besides, I bet the next question out of his mouth'll be-
"Why didn't we?" he blurted out.
Cody shook her head, grinning tiredly. "Listen to yourself, McCoy. Not two seconds ago, you were incredibly thankful that we didn't do it. But, the moment you think you might not be desirable, then, you wonder why we didn't."
Chastened, Hank had the good grace to hang his head a little. "I'm sorry, Cody. You're right. It was rather insensitive on my part." Of course, this did not in any way diminish his curiosity in the least. Nor did it assuage his ego.
He'd had his lesson. No reason to torture him further. Besides, she needed all the friends she could get around here. "Believe me, Blue, under different circumstances, I'd be all over you like a pack o' dogs on a three-legged cat. But my life is just a bit too complicated lately." She tapped the ash off the end of her smoke, then gave him a pat on the thigh over the flag. "Don't worry. It doesn't make you any less the hottie."
That was acceptable to him. All in all, it was best that they hadn't, really. She was, technically, his patient, after all. He was also not unaware of the looks he that had passed between her and Kurt, nor of the ever-present tension between her and Logan. Factor in her volatile temper, and her yet-to-be quantified pyrokinetic ability...well, "good idea" was not the first phrase that leapt to mind, certainly.
"Huh." She squinted philosophically into the approaching dawn.
"What is it?" he asked.
"With a cushion, this would be just like one of those big papa-san chairs."
Ororo was flying. She spiraled upward, borne on a warm wind, her long hair brushing gently against her bare skin, her laughter sending clouds scampering like sheep. The first rays of dawn set her skin glowing, and as the sun came around the curve of the earth, she reveled in its warmth and light.
She awoke with her arms open, reaching toward it.
With a sigh, she glanced at the clock on her nightstand. Six a.m. The alarm wasn't due to go off for another hour, but she knew she wouldn't be able to get back to sleep. Pulling on her robe, she padded over to the window and peeked out of the curtains.
The sun was indeed coming up, peering just over the edge of the horizon. The light was faint, but she could just make out two figures walking across the lawn. She squinted.
It was Hank and Cody. Both of them looked quite disheveled. Hank was hopping into his pants while he walked. Cody was striding toward the house with a cigarette dangling out of the corner of her mouth, her body swathed messily in the American flag. To her credit, she did seem to be doing her best to keep it from touching the ground.
Ororo burst out laughing, then clapped a hand over her mouth. Anyone else catching sight of them in this condition was not likely to be as amused-or, for that matter, as understanding-as she was. The sound of a door opening and closing carried down the hall. She would have to act quickly.
Jean awoke more tired than when she'd gone to bed. It didn't seem possible.
Her hand reached over to where Scott should have been, only to find a cool space on the sheets. She pulled the covers up to her chin and sighed. At times like this, nothing she could think of was worth being without him. Part of her was ready to leap out of bed, run to wherever he was, and wrap herself around him.
Then, she would step outside her room, lay eyes on Cody Latrans, and a surge of anger would drive that part into hiding like it was a kicked dog.
It was maddening.
After indulging in a few more minutes of tossing and turning, she gave in and got up.
Kurt lay on his back, refusing to open his eyes. What a wretched night.
He had spent most of it tossing and turning, playing things over and over again in his mind. Perhaps Logan was right about her. Maybe she was just stringing him along. Of course, he was not inclined to be charitable to Logan just now.
And Cody. He sighed. At least she had been honest with him, though that had only made things more confusing. Am I being unfair? Wouldn't it be better to have her friendship rather than nothing at all?
He opened one eye. The sky was growing light. "I might as well get up." he groaned.
"Pssssssssst! Psssssssst!"
Cody's ear's pricked up, trying to get a bead on where the sound was coming from. She looked up blearily to see Ororo hanging halfway out her window, waving at them. Elbowing Hank in the ribs, Cody pointed toward her, and they trotted nearer to the house.
"Everyone is getting up!" Ororo called in a stage whisper.
"Shit!" Cody hiked up the flag. So much for sneaking back into the house.
Hank was unsure of what to do. While was not ashamed of how he had passed the night, he was reluctant to endure the jibes of his teammates for days on end---not to mention what would most certainly prove an epic tongue-lashing from Charles. How to get them both inside under everyone's proverbial noses?
* * *
Logan had slept like a rock. It was his dreams that were a bitch.
He had had woken up in a cold sweat somewhere on the other side of 4:00 in the morning, tangled in the sheets. A nasty feeling was crawling up the back of his head and the hair on his neck was standing on end. He had spent the night chasing Cody across random dreamscapes, interrupted by visions of arguing with his best friend. Then there were just moments of warm blackness where the only thing he could perceive was the feeling of her teeth in his throat.
Barely biting back an urge to cut his way out of bed, he had untangled himself and stalked to the living room. Maybe there was something on tv.
Having gotten up at 5:30, Scott was showered, dressed and on his way to the kitchen by 6:05. He was congratulating himself on accomplishing it all in less than his usual time when he ran into Storm going down the stairs.
"Morning." He said, taking in her bathrobe and slippers. That was unusual. She always dressed for breakfast.
"Good morning, Scott." Ororo glanced at his face and paused for a moment. "Are you growing a beard?"
"What?"
"I just noticed..." She let her voice trail off and pointed to his cheek.
He put his palm to his face. Stubble. I can't believe I forgot to shave. "Ah, no. I'll...I'll see you at breakfast."
Ororo smirked after him as he made his way back upstairs. One small crisis diverted. She made her way down.
* * *
Piotr awoke are of a painful crick in his neck and unaware that the left side of his face was coated in a broad, multi-colored smear of oil paint. He had fallen asleep at his easel sometime during the night. "Boishe moi." With effort, he stretched and straightened, sorting out a hundred small aches, and headed to the kitchen.
* * *
Cody scratched. It was too goddamn early to form a plan for sneaking into the house. She worked much better at night.
Hank surveyed his surrounding, postulating the places where they were most likely to be spotted, calculating vectors of approach, and generally trying his utmost to force his brain to function rationally despite the fact that it was struggling with all its might to force him to go back to sleep.
"I got it!" She shivered and bounced on her toes, wrapping the flag tighter around her shoulders for warmth. "Okay, I'll go through the front door. While I'm distracting everyone, you sneak in the back and head for your lab."
"No, absolutely not." Hank said firmly. "We are in this together, and I'm afraid I cannot allow you to bear the brunt of admonition for the sake of my reputation. We will go in together."
"Hank, that's nuts. Listen to me. Everyone expect s me to pull stuff like this. If you get caught, Chuck'll have a coronary, and he might send ya packin'." She couldn't remember the last time someone had been willing to stand up for her. It made her feel downright warm and fuzzy inside. The man had stones. All the same, she couldn't let him do it. "Look, I've gotta stay until he's done studyin' me. If you go, I'm stuck with Jean, and both of us know how well that'll go."
She did have a point, though he did not have to like it. He would not put it past Charles to take him off the case, based on some supposed lack of objectivity. Of course, that did not render him any more comfortable with the idea of letting her take the fall. Passing the night with her in a state of enchanted delirium had been the most fun he had had in years. Hank placed his hands on her shoulders. "I am not ashamed of the time we spent together, nor of anything we might have done-though I will admit that there are, at the moment, considerable gaps in my memory."
She smiled, placing her hand on top of his. "I know it, Blue. I do. But we're burnin' daylight here." She swatted him on the rump. "Now git!"
Reluctantly, Hank scampered toward the back of the house.
Cody took a breath, hiked up the flag, and walked toward the front door. Maybe no one was out of the shower yet. She might still be able to make it to her room without anybody noticing.
Yeah, right.
* * *
Logan slumped on the couch with the remote in one hand and a half-empty bottle of Moosehead in the other. He had finally nodded off round about the sign-off time, lulled to sleep by "The Star-Spangled Banner" and a waving flag, leaving him snoring his way through the test pattern.
The early morning news came on just as Cody was opening the front door. She popped her head in and checked the hall, listening for any activity. Seemed like the coast was clear. She eased inside, closing the door quietly behind her, and slinking silently past the living room.
At first, he thought it was still the tv. Then he saw that the flag wasn't waving. He let her get a little ways down the hall before walking over to the doorway. "Look what the cat dragged in."
Cody stopped. Damn. I was almost home-free. At least Hank got away. She heard footsteps getting closer and turned around. Logan was standing behind her, smirking. "Nice dress."
She was about to tell him exactly where he could stick that when Ororo swept into the hall. Logan's eyes narrowed. Her hair didn't look combed and there was a slight flush to her cheeks. Logan had never seen her so disheveled. "Good morning." Her tone was serene, if a little breathless.
"Uh. . . mornin'." Logan grunted.
Cody smirked, but there was relief in her eyes. "Mornin'."
"I came down to get the paper." It had seemed like the perfect excuse when she'd gone over it in her mind, but exiting her mouth, Ororo felt it sounded stiff and suspicious. Logan noted that the other woman didn't seem a bit surprised by Cody's fashion statement.
Kurt walked down the hallway, lost in his thoughts and carrying a cup of strong coffee in his hand. When he stumbled upon the three of them he nearly dropped it. Ororo never left her room in her bathrobe. Logan was looking red-eyed and surly, his hair sticking out in several odd directions. Cody was. . . "Mein Gott." he breathed.
Cody's smirk turned to a sheepish smile. "It's not what you think."
Kurt blinked. "I don't know what to think."
"I do." Logan folded his arms.
"Don't start with me, mutton-chops." Cody bristled.
Ororo rolled her eyes.
"What's going on here?" They turned collectively to see Jean standing behind them.
"Great. The gang's all here." Cody rolled her eyes heavenward.
* * *
Hank slipped in the back door and tip-toed to the elevator. When the doors closed, he was almost overpowered by the reek of smoke and alcohol rippling off of his fur. A gallon of shampoo and a long, hot shower were most definitely the first order of business. Then, perhaps, a cup of very strong tea and---
The door to his lab opened on Professor Xavier. "Good morning, Henry." The older man held out the morning edition of the Salem Courier. "Have you seen the news?"
* * *
Jean could hardly believe what she was seeing. "Is she wearing the-"
"First, Red, don't talk about me like I'm not here." Cody had thought it would be tough getting inside, but not this tough. The fact that her back teeth were floating wasn't helping her keep her cool any, either. She had to pee so badly she was doing her best to keep from dancing.
"You can't wear the flag!" The redhead thundered. "It's-it's illegal!"
"It's only illegal if you cut it up and make it into clothes. Besides, it's not like I let it touch the ground."
"Well, it's damned unpatriotic." Said Logan self-righteously..
Cody snorted. "What do you care? You're Canadian!"
Before he could respond, Piotr appeared in the doorway. "What is going on?" Covering his mouth while he yawned only spread the paint to his other cheek. Everyone turned to look at him. His eyes narrowed quizzically. "What?"
Kurt pointed toward his face, trying to think of the most polite way to tell him. "There is some paint. . . "
"Where?" Piotr's eyes widened.
Even Logan was distracted. "All over. Did ya cuddle up to a palette or somethin'?"
Ororo turned away to keep from laughing. That was when she noticed what was on the news. "In what can only be described as a bizarre sequence of events, a robbery at the Quickie Mart in Salem Center was foiled late last night. An unidentified woman seemingly dodged a bullet fired at point blank range, then disarmed the assailant." Said a very coiffed morning anchorwoman.
Scott entered the room. Trying to take in the scene before him almost made his head spin. "What the----"
"Shhhhhh!" Ororo pointed to the television. Everyone's attention turned to the screen.
"According to the clerk who witnessed the incident, the woman then gave the assailant one hundred dollars in cash out of her own pocket so that he could get his dog released from the custody of the Salem Center Animal Care and Control before it was scheduled to be euthanized this morning. We go now to the surveillance camera footage from the Quickie Mart."
Cody groaned.
* * *
Hank took the paper, straining to read the headline without his glasses. WOMAN DODGES BULLET, FOILS ROBBERY. Below it was a blurred freeze-frame still of Cody side-stepping the shot. Scanning the article, he saw that it also made reference to her departing the scene with a "very large man in a vintage red sportscar." It also mentioned that she freed the gunman after giving him one hundred dollars so that he could pay to get his dog released from the animal shelter.
"Care to explain, Henry?" Xavier asked icily.
Hank sighed. It was far too early and he was far too exhausted to cope with Charles' sanctimonious, irate headmaster demeanor this morning. "The article seems to be quite complete. I have nothing further to add."
"Then perhaps you wouldn't mind clarifying why you are wearing your shirt inside-out and you smell as though you spent the night in burning brewery." The older man furrowed his considerable brows and there was the unmistakable twitch in his jaw that Hank remembered as the pre-cursor to so many lectures from his youth.
Only now, he was no longer a child, and he felt resentment steadily building by the nanosecond. He refused to allow Charles to get away with playing the stern father this time. "Actually, I would very much mind. What I do in my spare time is my own affair, and I have no intention of justifying myself or my actions to you."
"Damn it, Henry! Your actions represent not only the X-Men, but all of mutantkind. You cannot behave in public---"
Hank did something he had never previously imagined he would do. He interrupted Dr. Charles Xavier. "It vexes you no end that you can't read her mind, doesn't it?"
The Professor stopped, mid-tirade. Henry had never, in all the many years he'd known him, shown such insolence. It gave him momentary pause. Xavier frowned. "No such obstacle stand between you and I, Henry."
Hank folded his arms. "Has she agitated you so that you're willing to break your sacred code of ethics on her account?"
The older man leaned forward in his chair. "And has she clouded your judgment so that you forget the considerable difference in your respective ages? Not to mention your respective backgrounds."
"By that, I assume you mean to infer that my intellect is beyond her, and that her personality is too free-spirited for mine. You do us both a disservice."
There was a pause, during which neither knew what to say. It was mercifully interrupted by the sound of Hank's computer. Its simulated human voice announced in dulcet tones that it had matched the sequencing on Cody Latrans' DNA.
* * *
With everyone's attention fixed on the TV, Cody figured she'd take the chance and sneak out. She didn't make it to the doorway before Scott turned around. "You can dodge bullets?" There was more than a hint of apprehension in his voice, and not a little disbelief.
"Only if they're fired by a white man." She said pointedly.
No one could tell if she was joking or not.
Logan was sorely tempted to find out. "You been holdin' out on us."
Cody had lost patience and was burning through the last of her restraint just to keep up. She ran out. "Holding out on you? I was the one dropped into the middle of this little party, remember? And I don't recall anyone givin' me a rapsheet on all your 'special abilities' before lettin' you all dogpile on my ass in the Danger Room." Her gaze swept angrily over everyone. "Did anyone talk to me? No. Did anyone even think of asking me what I could do? Hell, no. Not even the wise and powerful Doctor X. Just test, tests, and more goddamn tests. I put up with it because I said I would, and I'll keep puttin' up until he finds whatever the hell he's lookin' for. But since you're so anxious to get me out of your hair, I'll let you in on the big, magic secret: You wanna know somethin' about me? Ask. I'm playin' by your rules. If you don't like it, change 'em."
That said, she turned on her heel and strutted for the door. Jean's voice caught up with her. "You can't wear that." She said sternly.
Cody stopped. She grabbed a fistful of fabric and whipped it off herself and into the air. Before it could touch the floor, she crunched it into a bundle and threw it at Jean. "You're so concerned about the fuckin' flag, Red, you take it."
The men averted their eyes. Jean gaped at her in a kind of disbelieving rage. Cody walked into the nearest bathroom and slammed the door.
And for no reason she could account for, Ororo smiled.
* * *
Scott and Jean appeared at the door of the Professor's office. He ushered them into the chairs facing his desk. "Scott, please close the door."
"What is it Professor?" Jean entertained a small flicker of hope that they were about to be asked to show Cody Latrans off the grounds. Personally.
The older man pushed a file toward her across the desk as Scott took a seat. "Henry has discovered a match for Ms. Latrans DNA. Part of the sequence is specific to a small Native American tribe in New Mexico, called the Shanakee. I am sending the two of you there to investigate. There is a flight to Santa Fe leaving La Guardia in two hours."
"If it's urgent, why don't we take the Blackbird?" asked Scott.
Charles shook his head. "This needs to be as unobtrusive as possible."
Jean scanned the pages of the file. Her eyebrows suddenly arched toward her hairline. Her eyes lit on information which her brain could hardly process. "But how?"
"That is precisely what I am sending the two of you to find out." Charles rubbed his temple, and Jean could feel a hint of apprehension ripple past his guard. "Especially in light of her well-publicized exploits of late, I believe it is imperative to find out all we can about her. Also, the longer she remains here, the more she could come to be associated with the X-Men, which could prove highly detrimental."
"If that's the case, why not simply send her away?" Jean asked tartly.
Professor Xavier sat back in his chair. "Cody Latrans represents something we have never encountered before, something which could prove quite dangerous."
"Dangerous to us?" Scott asked.
Jean glanced at the file again. "Dangerous to anyone."
* * *
Some people might call a nine-hour nap during daylight hours gratuitous, but Cody wasn't one of them. She was rested and showered with a couple of hours of daylight to spare, and she'd caught the sunrise, so to her reckoning, it all balanced out. After the mother of all long, hot showers, three bacon sandwiches, and a pot of coffee, Cody felt ready to face the world again. She sauntered down to the MedLab to see how Hank was holding up.
Peering through the glass, she saw him perched on his stool, white labcoat tight across his shoulders, staring into his monitor. He took off his glasses and pinched the space between his eyebrows, like he was trying to punish a headache. This didn't bode well. She knocked and popped her head in. "Hey, Blue."
When he looked toward her, his eyes were equal parts warmth and wariness. Something's happened. He doesn't know if he can tell me. "Cody." His finger strayed to the keyboard, but she was at his side before he could tap a button.
"I'm gonna make this easy, Hank. Just tell me." Her eyes locked on his. "Pretend you don't have a choice."
He smiled wanly. "Do I?"
"Not really. You could lie, but we both know how well that'd work."
"I could simply withhold information." Despite the Professor's explicit instructions to keep the information from her, his resolve was weakening by the second. In his heart, he felt she deserved to know, the fact that she might later prove to be a threat notwithstanding.
"You won't." Not because we spent the night doing things you can't remember, but because you know right from wrong. "It's my body. It's my right to know."
Hank sighed, his massive chest rising and falling slowly. It was less a gesture of deliberation than it was of resignation. He was in a difficult, if not impossible spot, and the sole means of navigating his way out was through personal integrity. Integrity, oddly enough, sided with Cody. "I've been running your DNA through every conceivable database at my disposal to find a match."
"What turned up?" Cody's throat was tight. Whatever information he had, Xavier had. Her stomach churned at the thought of that.
He clicked a new display onto the screen, which to her looked like nothing more than a bunch of odd, chunky squiggles. "These are your chromosomes." His throat was suddenly quite dry. "There are some. . . abnormalities."
She became very still beside him. "Like what?"
"To begin with, almost a third of your genetic matter is entirely specific to Canis Latrans: the coyote."
To her credit, she did not seem in the least phased by the information. "What about the rest of it?"
"It's a mixture of human DNA, occurring predominantly in people of Anglo-Celtic descent in the American South, and DNA indicative of a Native American heritage, but it's very specific." He picked up a transparency from his desk and walked over to click it onto a backlit white screen. It was a series of lines, mostly gray, interrupted by black bars along the sequence. Whipping a laser pointer out of the pocket of his labcoat, he shined a red dot on a particular black line. "This gene is particular to only one tribe in New Mexico--"
"Shanakee." It took effort to squeeze the word out. "How did you find it?"
"A sampling was taken for a Hantavirus research project several years ago. The computer stumbled upon it while searching the database of the Centers for Disease Control."
Cody reached for the nearest chair and guided herself into a sitting position. "That's not all, is it?"
In for a penny, in for a pound. He could not, in good conscience, keep the rest of it from her. "No. It's not so much the chromosomes, or even the genes themselves that were so puzzling. They were identifiable. It was the amino acids, the base pairs that hold the structure together. You have three of the four found in all DNA: guanine, adenine, and cytosine. However, instead of the fourth, thymine, you possess a different nucleic acid, one that has never before been encountered or quantified."
"So what is it?"
"I don't know. As I said, I've never seen it before."
"But you have an idea."
"Yes." Aside from ignoring Charles' direct order against telling her (which now gave him only perfunctory pangs of guilt), he found himself at a loss as to the best way to impart the information. Hank did not have unmitigated faith in his conclusion. "As I said, I was unable to find an exact match, but I have come across an amino acid that was similar in its composition."
Her heart was threatening to jump out of her chest and it felt like her blood was pumping at the speed of light. She wanted to know, and she didn't. A lot. "Where?"
"It's called diocine. It occurs only in genetic samples we acquired from denizens of Asgard."
"Asgard? What, you mean like Thor and horned helmets?"
"Yes, but as I said, it's only a similarity, not an actual match. I'm afraid I'm still in the dark." He clicked off the white screen. "Unless you can enlighten me."
She met his gaze with the wide, sad eyes of a confused child. "I wish I could, but a lot of this is news to me."
"But not all of it."
"No."
He had an urge to reach out to her, lay a hand on her shoulder, anything to recapture the ease they had had with one another the night before. Something in how she held herself, the way the vulnerability in her face mixed with the taut apprehension in her body, told him he might lose a hand if he tried. "What can you tell me?"
"I don't know."
As desperate as he was for even the smallest mote of information, he could not bring himself to press. And there was something more. "Cody, you probably know by now that Dr. Xavier is aware of the incident in the Quickie Mart."
She swept aside the hair threatening to dangle in her face. "So, why hasn't he sent you packin'?"
"He needs me here. There is currently no other doctor on the premises."
"Where's Red?" Please don't tell me what I think you're gonna tell me.
"She and Scott are on their way to New Mexico."
There was a blur of motion, a rush of warm air, and the door slammed behind her.
* * *
Piotr heard a soft knocking at the door of his studio. He hastily covered the canvas he was working on. "Come in."
Much to his surprise, it was Ororo. She had not ventured down here in quite awhile. "Piotr, can I speak with you?"
"Please. Is something wrong?"
"I'm not sure."
He gestured to his sheet-draped couch. "Sit down, tovarisch."
She took a seat, glancing at the covered canvas he was working on. Part of her desperately wanted to see it, merely for the sake of curiosity, but that was not why she had come. "Piotr, a lot has happened recently. Tempers are running high, to say the very least."
He washed the paint from his hands, checking his face in a small mirror as well. He didn't want to miss anything this time. "I have noticed."
"Many of our friends hold Cody responsible for the. . . upheaval." Ororo sighed. "What do you think?"
Piotr ran a hand through his hair and sat down heavily on his wooden stool. "It is difficult to say. When we met for the first time, all of us, there was much friction. Eventually, we learned to work together, and even became friends. Perhaps even family." He smiled tiredly and continued. "But it was not easy, and it was not fast."
His friend nodded. Logan had been utterly intractable for months. At least Cody had a sense of humor. "You will get no argument from me."
"Ah, but we all had a place on the team, some part to play. A way of belonging."
"And no one knows where Cody belongs." She nodded.
Piotr's glacial eyes locked on hers. "I am not sure she does."
* * *
Cody blew into Professor Xavier's office like an ill wind off the prairie and the door slammed shut in her wake. "What the hell do you mean by sendin' your people out to New Mexico?"
Though unable to read her mind, the way the air crackled around her body gave him pause. Nonetheless, he schooled his features into a façade of calm. "People generally knock before entering." He said sternly.
She folded her arms. "What's the matter? Couldn't hear me coming?"
He summoned the full force of his glare. "If there's something you want, barging in here and throwing a tantrum is your least likely means of getting it."
In a blur of speed he was certain was designed to intimidate him (and which was also not entirely unsuccessful in its aim), she rushed forward and slapped her palms on his desk, lowering her head to look into his eyes. When she leaned forward, he could feel the heat rippling from her skin. "I could do a lot worse than throw a tantrum, Doc." She growled.
"If you've come here to threaten me," he said more placidly than he felt. "I'm afraid you're out of your depth. With a mere thought, my people would be here in a moment."
Something almost like a smile bared the tips of her sharpening teeth. "Do you have any idea what I could do to you in that moment?"
That was a loaded question.
"What is it you want, Ms. Latrans?"
"Call off your dogs."
"Why should I do that? I'm certain you know about the anomalies in your DNA. Despite my express prohibition against it, I'm sure Dr. McCoy will have told you. To be frank, you may pose a threat to both mutants and mankind, and I intend to have all possible information at my disposal when assessing that threat. You have not exactly been forthcoming-"
"Forthcoming?" She could hardly believe her ears. "I've peed in gods know how many cups, given you a gallon of blood, and been run through every test you could dream up. You've done everything but give me a friggin' anal probe! The one thing you haven't done is ask me a straight question or give me a straight answer."
He leaned forward in his chair. "May I remind you that you made the choice to come here of your own free will, to be studied? No one forced you."
"I agreed to let you study my abilities, my body. I never said you were allowed to go sniffin' around where I come from."
"We are checking your background in order to elucidate the source of your abilities." Charles felt beads of perspiration forming on his bare scalp. "It is a necessary part of the research."
"Necessary, my ass! You just got your panties in a bunch 'cause you can't get into my head. That's what this is all about."
Had he been capable of standing, he would have shot to his feet. "I have brought you into my home and you have been nothing but disruptive. You have created a schism between my people, encouraged base and irresponsible behavior---"
"Oh, please. You're a mindreader, for chrissake. You think they can't think for themselves?" Her heart was going a mile a minute, and her frustration level was way into the red. She wanted to end this before things got really ugly.. "Call your people back."
"No." he said simply.
"Then kiss my ass good-bye."
Before he could blink, the door slammed shut behind her.
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