Neon Hearts Part 38
The saga continues, with yet another team chiming in! As 
always, no matter which team drops in, Marvel owns the copyright to all their 
established characters.


PART 38--GROWING THINGS


Closing the heavy oak door of Hank's room quietly behind her, Cassie moved 
across the floor, shucking off her thick terrycloth bathrobe as she did so. 
Moonlight streaming in through the window gave her plenty of light to navigate 
by. It also outlined Hank's comfortably curled form under the covers. She 
thought he looked like a little boy when he was asleep--a very large little boy, 
of course. Still, seeing him like that seemed to make her heart do a funny 
little flip all the same.

Cassie did her best not to slosh the waterbed as she slipped back into her spot. 
But Hank rolled over towards her, muttering her name in a sleepy query. "Yes, 
just me," she reassured him. "Up in the night again. I guess the dang jetlag is 
on rewind now or something." 

"Mmmm," he said as he stroked her arm, already half-asleep again.

"And then when I was in the bathroom, all of a sudden...you know how it is 
sometimes? I HAD to have a glass of milk." She continued her companionable 
babble as she plumped her pillow and got re-settled. "But it's such a long way 
down to the kitchen, and I thought, 'What if walking down there wakes me up, and 
I can't get back to sleep?' Isn't that annoying, when you want two opposite 
things?"

"Do you want me to go get you a glass of milk?" Hank asked, finally waking all 
the way up, wondering how much of the conversation he had inadvertently missed.

"Oh, no--I got it already. That's where I was, the kitchen."

"You went downstairs all by yourself?" he asked, pleased by the revelation. 
"You're becoming quite the bold adventurer, my dear. Scouting the deserted 
midnight halls of the scary old Xavier mansion...." 

Cassie laughed and snuggled under Hank's arm, from where she kissed the 
underside of his chin. "It's more like the 2 o'clock halls, and actually, they 
weren't deserted. Or rather the kitchen wasn't--I ran into Joseph." This was the 
information she had been hoping to impart in an appropriately casual way.

Now Cassie had Hank's full attention, as she had expected she might. She'd stood 
by listening to more than one conversation since their arrival home, where 
various team members filled Hank in on what had gone on while the two of them 
were off to Muir Island. She'd felt a little funny to find herself privy to the 
gossip, but also gratified to be treated like an accepted insider. 

"Did he say anything?"

Ever since Professor Xavier had given Joseph the X-Men's accumulated information 
on his history as Magneto, their strange visitor had hardly stirred from his 
guest room. Various members of the household had quietly been assigned the task 
of carrying him trays, once it was apparent he was not coming down for meals, 
but he had exchanged no words outside of simple thank yous. Xavier had asked 
everyone to be alert for any unusual activity, but to otherwise give him time 
and privacy to come to terms with the shocking revelations about his past.

"Not much. He'd brought down a tray with some dishes, and wanted to put them in 
the dishwasher, but it was full of the clean dishes from dinner. So I helped him 
put them away, since I pretty much know where everything goes by now." 

"I see." Something about this mental image was disquieting to Hank, but he 
dismissed it to pursue the more important matter. "How did he seem?"

Cassie considered this professionally, thinking how she would describe it in a 
book. "Quiet. Like he was thinking about something else. He was polite, though, 
and he smiled a couple of times. Asked me how our trip was. So I wouldn't say he 
seemed depressed or anything like that. Just... wrapped up in something...." She 
stroked her hand along Hank's chest, ruffling his fur. "I wasn't sure if I 
should hint around that he ought to come down to eat, that he was still welcome. 
So I didn't say anything."

"Probably best for now. I think Charles will want to be the one to handle that 
delicate situation." Cassie nodded in agreement. "Joseph is in a far from 
enviable position," Hank mused aloud as he began re- settling himself into a 
sleep position comfortable for two. "I imagine I should quite dislike being 
presented with a list of the misdeeds of another me, from another life."

"That would be pretty hard to cope with," Cassie agreed. "Poor guy." Feeling a 
bit guilty at being so utterly content here in Hank's arms when others were sad 
and alone, she gave a sigh, which turned into an unexpected yawn.

Hank echoed it before leaning to kiss her cheek. "I second your motion to return 
to our slumbers," he said, voice rumbling with a half-chuckle. "Tomorrow is a 
busy day."

"It is?" Cassie half craned her neck to look back at him. "On Memorial Day 
Weekend? That's un-American." Her grin assured him she was joking.

"You forget, I already HAD my vacation," he purred, with a light yet suggestive 
pat on her hip.

Her small hand grasped his large, furred one, lacing their fingers for a light 
squeeze. "And I'm still having mine. Lucky us, huh?"

"Indescribably," he responded, his tone equally light, equally sincere beneath 
the tone. "Good night, my dear Cassie."

*          *          *

Morning found the couple in the kitchen at Hank's usual time. Also as usual, the 
smell of coffee indicated other, earlier risers had already finished their 
morning breakfast rituals and gone. Storm was still present, putting the 
finishing touches on an almost ethereally fluffy omelet. She sat to eat it, 
conversing sociably as Hank and Cassie busied themselves with their own meal 
preparations.

"And what are your plans this fine morning?" Hank inquired of his teammate.

"I have learned the nursery in Salem Center is closing out all of its bedding 
plants," Storm said. "I thought I would try to give some of them a good home." 
There was a good-humored sparkle in her eyes that, in contrast, made her serene 
smile look vaguely mysterious, like the Mona Lisa's. "I proposed creating some 
new flowerbeds in front of the mansion, and Charles agreed."

"I wonder...if you need any help?" Cassie offered, after a brief hesitation. "I 
used to help my parents with their garden--I like it."

Storm was on the verge of explaining gently that she had planned to do the task 
alone, as an opportunity to commune with nature and her Goddess, but stopped 
when Hank, standing out of Cassie's line of sight, gave her a pleading look. 
Shrugging mentally, she said, "I would of course be grateful for the help, and 
pleased to have company." Cassie's relief and happiness showed instantly, and 
Storm felt a moment's pang of shame for almost having put the newcomer off.

To underscore her good will, she decided to tease her old friend. "Under the 
circumstances then, perhaps Cassie and I could take your car, Hank," Storm 
mused, well aware of Hank's discomfiture at the idea of someone else driving his 
treasured vehicle. "We will not be buying THAT many trays of plants, and I am 
sure any loose potting soil that spills will vacuum right up."

"Er," he said, swallowing hard, then looked at Cassie's eager smile and bravely 
continued, "well, I suppose...unless you think you MIGHT be tempted by a bargain 
in a larger plant size? Such as a shrub, or even a tree? You wouldn't have room 
if--" He broke off when Storm trilled her musical laugh, and feigned a reproving 
frown when he realized he'd been had. 

"You are right, Hank. It WOULD be more sensible for us to take the van, and so 
we shall." She directed her next words to Cassie. "They open at eight, so if we 
can depart perhaps fifteen minutes before?"

*          *          *

As the two women headed towards the garage, Storm extended the keys of the van 
in Cassie's direction. "Would you care to drive?"

"I don't mind, if you want me to," Cassie replied, taking the keys 
automatically. Her eyes asked a question she was too polite to frame verbally.

"I CAN drive, but I do not care for it," Storm explained with calm dignity. "I 
find I have no...no sense of communion with mechanical things."

"Well, that makes sense," Cassie murmured. They reached the van and got 
themselves settled to travel. "I like driving," she continued. "I started when I 
was ten."

"Ten?" Storm's elegant white eyebrows lifted like gulls' wings. "Surely that is 
rather young?"

"Pretty common in ranch country, where I'm from." With swift precision, Cassie 
backed the van from the garage and started towards the gate. "We'd go to my 
grandparents' ranch for a visit, and my dad or cousin would take me out to open 
range--it's legal on private property, you see--and teach me. There was nothing 
to hit or drive off of, just flat ground and low scrub." Her face grew wistful 
recalling the fun and unconscious freedom of childhood. "I really enjoyed it."

"Children can be taught many unusual things, and they naturally make games out 
of matters adults find serious," Storm commented, her eyes far away for a moment 
as well.

They continued to talk as they drove, and the initial sense of uncertainty, of 
having to make a conversation between strangers work, was soon left behind. By 
the time they parked and entered the greenhouse at the nursery, they were 
laughing together in easy accord.

Some time later, a smitten assistant finished loading the last of several dozen 
trays of young plants into the back of the van, and gave a forlorn but earnest 
good-bye wave to Storm. "Kindly stop smiling in that way; he is almost young 
enough to be my son," Storm pretended to scold Cassie as they drove away.

"A very dutiful son," Cassie replied, still smiling, thinking of how the boy had 
practically hovered over them, holding the large carrying trays for the 
six-packs of baby plants Storm selected, rushing them to the counter and running 
back so no other worker could usurp his spot.

"I am glad you will be helping me set the plants," Storm said, changing the 
subject. "I got carried away as usual, I fear."

"I hope it WILL be all right for me to plant those tomatoes somewhere in back," 
Cassie worried. She'd been drawn to some leggy, pale ones standing neglected in 
a corner, left behind now that the area's ideal tomato planting season had 
passed. 

"I believe we can find room for them SOMEWHERE on the estate," Storm said dryly, 
and Cassie laughed, admitting she was being unnecessarily nervous.

They re-entered the gates, and at Storm's direction, Cassie pulled into the 
circle drive in front of the mansion for unloading. There were half a dozen 
newly turned beds of different sizes and shapes in the general area of the 
entrance steps, neat and ready for filling with plants. "I guess you did this 
while we were away?" 

"I drew out the designs. Logan helped with the preparation of the beds."

"Really?" Cassie wished she could have seen that. It would have been interesting 
to see him tilling the soil with his extendable metal claws--scary, but 
interesting.

"Yes. Of all the mechanical things I do not care for, our rototiller is high on 
the list." Storm shuddered delicately. "Much too loud, and it shakes like it 
will fly apart."

"Oh." Cassie revised her mental image of Logan working to this much more prosaic 
picture. "Yeah, my dad's rototiller is just like that. And running it? It's like 
someone stuck handles on a Harley--your hands and arms buzz for HOURS 
afterwards!"

"Exactly." 

They removed the flats of plants and placed them in whatever shade was 
available, returned the van to the shed, and gathered up the tools and equipment 
they would need for their job. Back at the front of the house, Storm showed 
Cassie her carefully drawn out diagram for the bed designs. "No gold X's in blue 
backgrounds?" she asked, wickedly innocent.

Storm gave another of her looks of feigned annoyance, then stopped, stuck by 
some mental image. "I wish I had thought of that," she admitted. "It would have 
been amusing to propose it to Charles as though I was seriously intending...."

"You still could," Cassie urged. "Draw it up to show him, I mean."

"OR we could merely return to the nursery...no, I doubt there would be enough 
flowers in the appropriate colors." 

"I think you took all the blue ones they had already," Cassie agreed. "But...." 
She looked at the design paper again. "If you could skip these borders?" Her 
finger traced two kidney shaped beds, outlined in blue. "With the yellow 
marigolds, we MIGHT have enough for ONE circle? Maybe on the side of the house 
by the patio?"

Indecision glimmered in Storm's cat-eyes for only an instant. "Do you want to 
start on this one, then, while I go find Logan?" She gave Cassie a conspirator's 
smile. 

"Sure," Cassie answered with a grin, catching Storm's mood.

"I shall ask him to prepare a place for the tomatoes as well," Storm promised as 
she left on her errand.

Smiling to herself in enjoyable anticipation of Hank's reaction--she knew HE 
would be amused, at least--Cassie looked over the guide paper once more, then 
went to select the first batch to be set, white petunias as ruffled as 
carnations for the center of a long, curving oval bed. She selected a trowel, 
picked up a flat of petunias, and set to work.

The ground here was so different from back home; dark brown and loamy, 
incredibly moist and lush when it was turned. "You're going to like this," 
Cassie said gaily to the bedding plants as she began to tease them out of their 
containers.

At the sound of an engine coming up the drive, she turned half around, curious. 
It was, surprisingly, the sort of car anyone would EXPECT to see pulling up at 
the front entrance of a place like this; a long, low limousine with tinted 
windows. The effect was spoiled, however, by the vehicle following it, a old, 
red Jeep full of luggage. 

Cassie assumed anyone who could drive right in MUST have security clearance, but 
she watched in some trepidation as the limo's doors opened. Then a rambunctious 
collection of teenagers began to spill out of the back half, and she relaxed. It 
didn't look like any kind of invasion she could imagine--at least, not a 
dangerous one.

There were big and tall boys, model-like girls, and two odd-looking little tykes 
tailing the pack. Cassie told herself they MIGHT just be shorter than the 
others, not younger, but then they started playing a game of tag between and 
around the big kids. Definitely little boys. 

A tall, red-headed man got out of the Jeep and started half-heartedly trying to 
corral the little ones as the teens dug through the jumbled luggage, bickering 
good-naturedly. The Jeep's passenger door creaked open, and what appeared to be 
a girl with skin as red as its paint slipped out to join the rest. It was all so 
fascinating Cassie didn't even realize she was staring.

Then the liveried driver came around the limo and opened its door for a woman 
with ice-smooth platinum blonde hair, and a body and outfit straight out of 
Penthouse. The kids, all of them, ceased their horseplay and the louder part of 
their banter when she emerged. "Shall we?" this apparition said to them in cool 
tones, gesturing towards the mansion.

As they lined up behind their...governess?...an Asian girl in an appallingly 
yellow raincoat ran a bright, assessing gaze over Cassie, then leaned close to 
whisper something to the other two girls she stood near. "Uh, hi," said one, a 
blonde, when she realized Cassie was watching them gossip.

"Don't bother the help when they're working, Paige," said the woman in leather, 
striding up the stairs without looking back, and Cassie's mouth dropped open in 
astonishment. Who WAS that very rude woman? She was still staring in shock when 
the red-headed man bringing up the rear of the entourage gave her a friendly 
wink as he went inside.

Cassie had given up trying to convince herself she had NOT been deliberately 
insulted by the time Storm returned. "We have company," Cassie informed her, 
tilting her head towards the limo. 

"Ah, the students are here," Storm replied, kneeling down beside Cassie and 
taking a six-pack of plants to set.

"So it IS some kind of field trip?"

Storm laughed in delight. "Not quite. These are the students from our...sister 
organization in Massachusetts. Where young mutants are trained in the use of 
their powers."

"Oh, yes, Hank DID mention them to me before, I think." Hank had mentioned quite 
a lot of people and groups in the past couple of weeks, but most of the details 
were still somewhat mixed in Cassie's mind.

"As I understand it, the group recently had an unexpectedly dangerous encounter. 
Charles thought it wise to move their yearly health exams up, to be sure no one 
had suffered any undetected injuries."

"Ah." That explained Hank's remark about his upcoming busy day. Cassie dismissed 
the group from her mind for the moment. "Am I spacing these the right distance 
for your design?"

*          *          *

The two of them had been working companionably for several productive hours when 
Cassie suddenly bolted to her feet. "Yes? Oh--certainly! I'll be right there," 
she said to the empty air. Storm, who had some idea of what was going on, merely 
waited through this one-sided conversation. It didn't last long. 

Cassie turned to Storm and blurted, "Professor Xavier wants me to come to his 
office!" She looked down at herself and gasped in horror, wiping her dirty palms 
against each other, then succumbing to a spasm of dusting at her mud-grimed 
knees and all the other parts of her body which had been in contact with the 
ground.

"Here, Cassie, hold out your hands," Storm instructed. A micro-shower fell from 
nowhere, and Cassie gratefully rinsed away the soil, then wiped her damp hands 
over her face.

"What do you think he wants? I said I'd be right there--oh, dear."

"I have no idea, but I doubt it is anything earth-shattering," Storm said, 
trying to soothe her, knowing she was unlikely to fully succeed.

"Is my face grubby?" Cassie asked anxiously.

"It is NOW," Storm told her dryly. Cassie looked quickly right and left, then 
untucked her t-shirt and wiped the hem over her face. With her casual garments, 
tied-back hair and agitated expression, Storm thought she looked very much of an 
age with the Generation X team at the moment. "But that solves the problem. You 
look reasonably presentable--" she barely refrained from adding 'child' at the 
last moment.

"THANKS, Storm," Cassie said as she gathered her nerve. "I'll be back to help 
again as soon as I can." With a tremulous smile, Cassie trotted off.

After taking the time for three deep breaths, Cassie knocked at the panelled 
door. The professor's voice bade her enter, where she found the one she'd dubbed 
Penthouse Woman and the red-haired man sitting in front of Xavier's desk. The 
woman examined Cassie, tapping one perfect nail on the arm of her chair in 
distinct displeasure as she did so. "You ARE joking, aren't you, Charles?" 

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

"You never LOOK like you're joking, not even when you try." Cassie was stunned 
all over again to hear someone talking to Professor Xavier that way.

The red-haired man had politely risen from his seat. The professor made 
introductions in an urbane tone while the man, Sean, fetched another chair. 
Cassie wondered wildly if she'd gotten all the loose grass and dirt off her rear 
end--if not, she hoped someone around here had the mutant power of cleaning 
antique needlepoint. But rather than look like even MORE of a dork in front of 
Emma, she sat down anyway.

Xavier began to explain why he had called her. "Sean and Emma run a school 
affiliated with us, for the benefit of younger mutants--much like my original 
interactions with the X-men. The children not only receive training in using 
their powers, but the more usual kind of education as well." Cassie nodded, 
seeing the sense of it. 

"Most of their traditional education is taught through individually paced 
modules via computer programs, which for the most part works very well. However, 
one area where some of the students are having trouble is in English 
composition. As you may imagine, it doesn't lend itself well to machine 
assessment."

"No, I don't suppose so," Cassie agreed politely. 

"We were discussing what to do about it, and I suddenly wondered whether YOU had 
ever taught writing?"

"Oh, yes, a few workshops and such," she began, then paused, looking a bit 
dubious. Surely he wasn't asking....

"As you were mentioning the other day you would like to do something, to be 
helpful--" 

"May I ask what her qualifications are, besides of course having taught the 
prestigious 'few workshops'?" Emma inquired with freezing false-courtesy.

Cassie's heart sank. There was not one chance in hell this woman had ever 
willingly even TOUCHED a romance novel, despite dressing like she belonged on a 
cover for the ultra-steamy type. To save the professor from having to try to 
explain, she admitted her dread secret.

Emma merely stared at her coolly, with a few well-spaced blinks, then 
transferred the same look to Professor Xavier. Saying nothing said it all. 

"Whatever your opinion of the genre, Emma, I'm sure you'll believe me when I 
tell you I know Cassie's writing skills to be more than adequate to serve as her 
credentials for this task. Plus she already understands our situation vis a vis 
security questions and the like."

"I'd be thinkin' the big question is whether she cares to help us out," Sean 
inserted, giving her a charming Irish smile. "Considerin' the lot of hooligans 
we're askin' her to cope with." Cassie hadn't even gotten as far as worrying 
about THAT yet, and she gulped inwardly. "Perhaps we could give it a try on a 
temporary basis? For the summer, say?"

"The school is in Massachusetts?" Cassie answered, trying to sound 
professionally calm. "How would we work that out?"

Emma sighed theatrically. "It's called telecommunications, dear. I understand 
even the normal world is using it heavily these days."

"Emma, please!" Xavier snapped, and Sean added, "F'r God's sake, Emma, give it a 
rest!"

Well, two out of three wasn't bad, Cassie supposed. Plus she HAD offered to 
help. And maybe she wouldn't have to have much to do with Emma. "I'd be happy to 
try, anyway."

"Good," said Xavier, with a satisfied smile. He looked to Sean who nodded, and 
Emma, who didn't.

"I'd like to go on record as objecting," Emma said. Her eyes flicked over Cassie 
one more time, then dismissed her. "For several of the students, this is 
supposed to be a college-level class. I've never read any masters theses that 
featured heaving bosoms and tingling... whatevers."

The only thing Cassie could think of to say about heaving bosoms at the moment 
would have come across as a bit of a personal attack, considering SOMEONE'S was 
practically heaving out of its bustier right here in this very room. She forced 
herself to merely smile and think about the moral beauty of self-control. "I'll 
try to avoid teaching the young people anything inappropriate."

"That they don't already know," muttered Sean, shaking his head.

"WELL then," Xavier said, regaining control of the conversation mostly through 
force of will, "why don't we arrange for you to just meet the students today? We 
can work out the formal scheduling later. There's a solarium on this floor we 
occasionally use for informal meetings; Hank can show you where it is after 
lunch. What time do you think the students will be available, Sean?"

"Hank said he'd be done lookin' over our darlin's by mid-afternoon at the 
latest." 

"Would 4 o'clock be a good time for you, Cassie?" Xavier inquired.

"I don't see why not...certainly," Cassie said, nodding a little too hard. She 
half-rose, then said, "If that's all?" Xavier nodded back, dismissing her, and 
Sean gallantly rose as Cassie did. "I promised Storm I'd finish helping her...." 
She trailed off and managed not to bolt through the doors only because she 
refused to give Emma the satisfaction.

'Oh, BOY," Cassie thought as she headed back outside. 'What in the world have I 
gotten myself into NOW? Don't answer that!' She suspected she would find out all 
too soon. 


Susan the Neon Nurse
(Susan Crites/CRITESS)


INFO, ETC.

More chapters of this story can be found at: 
http://web2.spydernet.com/lori/x-men.htm OR from the author, Susan Crites 
(carosue@iguana.ruralnet.net) IF you can't access the Web. Many thanks to Lori 
for our new home! 

There is also a mailing list for people who want to get new chapters ASAP. Be 
warned--you sometimes get odd extra mailings as well, when the spirit moves 
me....

Disclaimer: Since I am a) inserting a new character and b) not privy to any of 
Marvel's editorial decisions, this story is forced to be an alternate universe. 
It is similar to the 'real' one when it works out, plotwise, okay? And I DO make 
mistakes sometimes, I know. Such is life.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 
Don't forget to support the fanfic writers who work tirelessly to support your 
reading habit! Tell your friends about Untold-L, alt.comics.fan-fiction and 
CFAN! Comment early and often! And ALWAYS ask permission before archiving or 
otherwise mass-distributing a story--people like to know where their 'children' 
are at night! :)

The Neon Nurse thanks you!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 


-------
Neon Hearts Part 39As I've said so MANY times before, Marvel characters are 
copyright to Marvel. And good luck to them in their current crisis!


PART 39--THE BEST DEFENSE


"It's just, like, so weird," Jubilee muttered, poking at her plate. 

"This so-called food? You got THAT right!" Angelo smirked at her across the wide 
white-clothed expanse of the dining table. "Thought everything was so *perfecto* 
here with the X-men." Sam, sitting between Jubilee and his sister, frowned at 
this remark; Paige unconsciously copied her big brother's expression. 

"Pay attention much?" Jubilee retorted. "I wasn't talkin' about the food, which 
is FINE." Two of Jean's giant-sized emergency casseroles had been decanted to 
feed the X-men and their younger counterparts from Xavier's School for Gifted 
Students. Sadly, the dish was all too clearly an experiment which had not 
produced an unqualified success. 

"Since she was planning to freeze it, she should have reduced the amount of 
tarragon," Monet observed in the exact tones of an impartial cooking contest 
judge. "It being one of the herbs whose flavor intensifies and spreads during 
storage--" 

"THANK YOU, Martha Stewart," Jubilee snarled pleasantly. "I was TALKIN' about 
Beast an' his one-woman fan club." 

Thus reminded, they all stole a glance. At the extreme other end of the huge 
formal dining table, Sean was saying something inaudible to the stranger in 
question, which made her blush and Hank laugh out loud. 

"What's so weird about him having a girlfriend? It's not like he's never had one 
before," Paige said, practicing her voice of sweet reason. 

"I KNOW that." Jubilee frowned at the memory as she stirred up the cream-sauced 
sludge on her plate. "SHE didn't have any powers either." 

"Don' look to me like she NEED any powers," Angelo said with a suggestive leer. 
He was immediately cried down by his female peers for being porcine. 

Once Angelo seemed at least somewhat squelched, Jubilee continued. "All I know 
is, it seems, like, kinda SUDDEN. I mean, he goes to the bank, meets this girl, 
and before you can turn around she's MOVED IN with him--" 

"Remind me to ask him the name of that bank--I think I'm gonna open me an 
account," interrupted Angelo with an evil grin. He apparently had not taken his 
scolding too seriously. 

This prompted Everett to cuff him in good-natured fellow-male mockery. "Those 
kind of accounts need a certain 'minimum deposit' YOU ain't got!" 

"Hey, man, don' dis me in front of the *chicas*!" Angelo cried in pretend 
consternation, as he smacked him back. 

"Knock it OFF, you two," Paige protested. "I know they're too far away to hear 
us, but if you keep fooling around, Emma's going to start poking her mind in to 
see why we're laughing so much." 

As if she hadn't been interrupted, Jubilee continued, "And they go around stuck 
together like a grilled cheese sandwich or somethin'." 

"You have such a talent for romantic descriptions," Monet observed scathingly.

"Maybe she'll teach us some," Paige grumped, reminded of the unwelcome news 
about having this Cassie person as a teacher. The idea of being instructed by a 
ROMANCE writer had disturbed her more than she wanted to let on. 

"Can' believe that," Angelo chimed in, shaking his head gloomily. 

"It's only for the summer, anyway," said Everett. 

Sam interrupted with a mild protest, softened for his sister's sake. "C'mon, 
she's a nice lady--y'all could at least give her a chance." He excused himself 
to go refill his plate at the sideboard. 

"Wolvie did tell me that," said Jubilee, half-chastened for just an instant. "He 
says she's kinda shy and jumpy, but no one except maybe Hank knows exactly why." 

"Do you think perhaps she's attracted to Dr. McCoy because she wants a 
protector?" Monet mused. 

"Like a knight on a white horse?" Paige snorted. 

"You all make it so complicated," Mondo said. He had been listening earnestly to 
the whole conversation, while giving his food concentrated attention as well. 
"Perhaps it is just that she likes him. Man, woman, love--it is a wonderful 
thing." 

Jubilee groaned. "I keep meanin' to ask--what color's the sky in your world, 
Mondo?" 

"Why, blue, of course." Mondo gazed at Jubilee in some perplexity before a 
sudden broad smile broke through. "Ah, I see--you are joking me." He laughed 
heartily in appreciation. 

"It's rather a sad commentary when a woman feels she needs someone else to 
protect her," said Monet, buttering another roll. 

"What else she gonna do? Like Jubilee said, she got no powers." 

Jubilee tried and failed to kick Angelo under the wide table. "Didja skip your 
anti-annoying medication today on purpose?" 

"Yeah, women can learn to defend themselves!" Paige chimed in, indignant. "Even 
non-mutants." 

"Hey, that's a first--one of your brilliant ideas that really is!" cried 
Jubilee, entranced by a sudden vision. 

"What?" 

"Let's teach her some moves!" 

"Why?" As always when Jubilee waxed enthusiastic about something, Paige started 
to feel nervous. 

"So she can defend herself, like you said!" At Paige's look of dismay, Jubilee 
switched to coaxing. "C'mon, it'd be easy. I bet I can even still get into the 
Danger Room!" 

If rolling eyes made any sound, the sudden din at that end of the table would 
have been deafening. "Never forget you're dealing with mighty Jubilee, the 
former X-man," intoned Everett. 

Paige was torn. If she called Jubilee's bluff about the Danger Room, something 
might go horribly wrong. And yet, if she didn't get involved, Jubilee might try 
to pursue the project by herself, exponentially increasing the risk of something 
disastrous happening. "Tell you what--let's ask her if she's even interested 
first." If she was as shy as reported, that would solve the problem right there. 

The subject was dropped by mutual consent as Sam returned. "Hey, there's plenty 
of the casserole left, if y'all are still hungry," he told them as he took his 
seat. 

"Oh, wonderful," Mondo enthused, standing up. "Can I bring some for anyone 
else?" 

His answer was a unanimous "No!!" 

*          *          *

The adults began to rise and leave the table, signalling the end of lunch. Hank 
headed towards the younger mutants, trailed by Cassie. "Ah, Angelo! I believe 
you are my next lucky victim." 

"I'm lucky? What, you leaving out some of those nasty tests you *medicos* love 
so much?" 

"Well, nooo...." Hank was in his element, bouncing slightly on his toes and 
beaming as he regarded the group. "But if you wish, we can do as we've done with 
the female students for the more, ah, personal tests...." 

Angelo looked torn between interest and suspicion, so Paige saved him the 
trouble of deciding whether to ask. "Emma gets the how-to info from his mind and 
sets up the medical scanner stuff FOR him." She screwed up her face in eloquent 
expression of exactly how happy she'd been about that. 

"I feel so close to her now--not!" agreed Jubilee, making the traditional 
'gagging' gesture with one forefinger. 

"There is no need for embarrassment because of normal medical procedures," Monet 
said in a calm tone. "Fortunately SOME of us can be mature about things like--" 

"Don' say it, whatever it is," Angelo pleaded. "Some things us guys don' want to 
know, *sabe*?" He squared his shoulders like someone readying himself for the 
firing squad. "Let's do it, then. But just you and me, *por favor*, Dr. McCoy?" 

"Whatever you like," Hank assured him. He turned to kiss Cassie on the forehead. 
"Later, my sweet." 

Angelo brightened, and extended his arms to his teammates. "Somebody gonna kiss 
ME goodbye?" 

His only answer from the girls were three nearly identical 'you wish' stares. 
Seeing this, Sam clowningly said, "If ya just GOTTA have one..." and stepped 
forwards. 

"Ayeeii, you are *todo mas loco*," Angelo protested, though he laughed while he 
said it. "Seņor Beast, take me away." 

Emma joined them at the elevator, causing Angelo no little distress. "Remember, 
this was gonna be jus' between us *vatos*...." he said to Hank in a low, urgent 
tone. 

"Don't worry, Angelo," Emma said with cool amusement. "I'm down here working on 
a project of my own. And it wasn't MY idea to play nursie anyway." Angelo almost 
managed to hide his sigh of relief. 

Hank and Emma discussed minor details of the afternoon's proposed schedule as 
the elevator took the trio down to the labs. Then she split off to follow her 
own agenda. Angelo stopped at the main entrance to read a hand-lettered sign on 
the door: 

  Don't LOOK at anything in a physics lab.
  Don't TASTE anything in a chemistry lab.
  Don't SMELL anything in a biology lab.
  Don't TOUCH anything in a medical lab.
         and, most importantly,
  Don't LISTEN to anything in a philosophy department. 

  Come to think of it, perhaps you'd better simply knock, and I'll come out!

  Hank


"Shall we?" Hank asked with a grin, once Angelo had finished. He flourished an 
invitational bow, and Angelo shuffled resignedly inside. 

*          *          *

Upstairs in the dining room, two girls edged up to Cassie on the heels of Hank 
and Angelo's departure. Time to start getting to know her new students, Cassie 
decided, and gave them an encouraging smile. 

"Hi!" said one...Jubilee, wasn't it?...with a snap of her gum. "You, like, doin' 
anything right now?" Her almost aggressively friendly manner was the antithesis 
of the stereotypical shy Asian girl. 

Cassie quickly considered her options. The bedding plants she'd been working on 
with Storm were all in, and well-watered by some highly localized showers. She 
HAD been planning to sit herself down to WRITE this afternoon, but...oh, well, 
what was one more afternoon off? "Nothing in particular." 

"We thought--" 

Paige interrupted, knowing Jubilee's propensity for just blurting things out 
with no psychology about it. "We were talking about going downstairs to work out 
a little, and we thought you might want to come too?" 

Amazingly, Jubilee seemed to catch on, and followed Paige's lead. "Yeah, we were 
just sayin' how we haven't practiced our self-defense stuff in a while. And 
since we're here, and the Danger Room is up for grabs--" 

Paige saw Cassie involuntarily gulp at the mention of the Danger Room, and 
feared she was about to decline. "Except...we're technically supposed to have a 
grown-up around when we use it." She widened her eyes and looked as serious as 
she could, an expression that had always worked wonders on teachers back home. 
"It's the rules," she said solemnly. 

"I'd certainly be happy to help," Cassie said, trying very hard to sound 
natural, "but...I don't know anything about how the...the Danger Room works, or 
anything." 

"You don't hafta, *I* do," crowed Jubilee, assuming victory. "The prof just 
wants a grown-up there so we won't goof around--as IF!" 

"Oh, yeah, Jubilee--YOU never goof around!" 

"Not about somethin' like this!" Jubilee protested, stung by the accusation. 

Worried that the girls might think she was rejecting what was probably an offer 
of friendship, Cassie agreed. She even managed a semi- enthusiastic smile, 
although she was in reality far from sanguine about the prospect of venturing 
into the Danger Room. It had no doubt been so named for a good reason. But since 
this could be a start at getting close to two of her new writing students, she 
squelched her nervousness and followed their lead. 

True to Jubilee's expectations, the Danger Room door yielded to her 
voice-command, and let them in. The huge vault-like area seemed ominously still 
to Cassie--surely their footsteps and voices ought to echo a little more? But 
the girls were so matter of fact about the situation that she was able to summon 
up a modicum of calm. 

"Have you ever taken any self-defense courses or anything?" Paige inquired. For 
some reason she seemed as nervous as Cassie felt. "No, I haven't," Cassie 
answered. "I've thought about it, but, you know, never made the time." That much 
was true, although as an explanation it left out more than it told. 

"Well, hey, we can show ya some easy stuff!" Jubilee declared. "You never know 
when it might come in handy!" 

"That's true, you never know," Cassie managed to say, meanwhile scolding herself 
mentally. 'WHAT are you so worried about? It's not like you're going to have to 
fight your way out of here or anything!' 

"Would you like to?" asked Paige, almost hoping the answer would be no. Although 
the plan seemed, on the surface, to be going smoothly, there was some sort of 
undercurrent here she didn't quite like. 

"Sure!" Cassie said with false-heartiness. Heck, maybe she could use it in a 
book sometime. 

"How about that one real easy choke break for starters?" Jubilee said to Paige. 
She raised one arm in a partial arc over her head, and Paige nodded her 
understanding and agreement. "I can even bust Mondo off with that one," Jubilee 
bragged to Cassie. 

Mondo was quite a hefty specimen, if she was remembering the quick introductions 
accurately, and Cassie's interest went up a notch. Jubilee wasn't much taller 
than her--if SHE could do it? "Without your powers?" she hazarded. 

"Oh, yeah, we do this stuff without powers mostly," Paige explained. "In case we 
ever get into a situation where our powers don't work." At Cassie's puzzled 
frown she added, "It happens. Not very often, thank goodness." 

"Yak, yak, yak--let's get to work!" Jubilee swallowed her gum and moved to stand 
in front of Paige. "Here, you and me'll do it first, to show her." 

As Cassie watched intently, the girls worked out who was to choke who. Jubilee 
cheerfully grabbed her teammate's neck with almost too much realism. "Looser, 
Jubes--I have to TALK, y'know!" 

"Weenie," Jubilee accused amiably as she complied with the request. 

"Okay, just bring one arm out from your side--it doesn't matter which one--" 
Paige demonstrated as she explained "then act like you're drawing an arc exactly 
over your head with your forefinger--" 

"Look at your hand, not at the bad dude," Jubilee added helpfully. "So you won't 
freak." 

"When your arm is straight up, start turning your shoulders, and keep on with 
the arc until you're bent all the way over." Jubilee's hands popped off their 
grip as though they were greased. "Then from down here, you spring back up and 
hit 'em with the back of your fist, or the side of your arm, or whatever is 
handy." 

"Where do you hit them?" 

"In the face, if you can. Or the neck, or ribs--just bounce back up real fast 
and swing at whatever's in reach. For the element of surprise." 

'The one surprised will be me, if I remember this,' Cassie thought, but all she 
said was, "That DOES seem to work pretty well." 

"Watch us a few more times, then you can try it." 

Sooner than she would have thought possible, Cassie was successfully completing 
the action, and growing elated. Her two future students assured her happily they 
wouldn't even THINK of giving in easily just to make her feel good. 

"I know, how 'bout if we program up a sim for you to work with? Then you'll see 
for sure how good you're doin'!" 

When Cassie hesitated, Paige jumped in. "We don't have to get that realistic, 
Jubilee. There's plenty of other stuff we can do still." 

"Yeah, but it's way cooler to use the programs! And Cassie wants to see how it 
works against a guy, don't you, Cassie?" 

Thus appealed to, Cassie found herself nodding. "It...would be interesting." She 
thought back to the dance workout Hank had provided for a test group last week, 
and how it had actually turned out to be fun. 'Just special effects like the 
movies,' she reminded herself. 

"Gotcha covered!" Jubilee blazed out of the room before Paige could protest 
again. 

"I'll just stand by and coach, then," Paige said, surrendering to the 
inevitable.

*          *          *

Paige and Cassie cautiously exchanged small talk as they waited for Jubilee to 
finish her task. All too soon, as far as Cassie was concerned, her voice echoed 
through the room. "Got it--piece of cake! Are ya ready?" 

"Ready as I'll ever be," Cassie replied gamely, with a strained smile. Paige 
opened her mouth and almost called a halt to the proceedings after all. Then a 
figure drew itself in the air, solidifying in mere moments, and it was too late. 

The holo-attacker was tall but stoutly built, dressed in grubby jeans, a ripped 
t-shirt and a cheap-looking fake leather jacket--the type anyone might cross a 
darkened street to avoid. "Okay, just keep your mind focused on what you're 
going to do," Paige advised. 

Cassie barely heard her over the sudden hammering of her heart sounding in her 
ears. The only thing she could focus on was the unwinking malice in the eyes 
locked on hers, the kind of rabid glaze she had seen once in real life, 
uncounted times in nightmares. She tried to speak, say that she had changed her 
mind, but before more than a thin thread of sound could escape her lips, the 
figure charged. 

He started in slow motion, or so it seemed, and as his arms stretched out for 
her, a vicious grin split his harsh features. Her hands came up and out before 
her, but the attacker burst through that futile, instinctive attempt at fending 
him off and grabbed Cassie's neck with the speed of a striking rattler. 

At the hologram's touch, a scream burst from Cassie's throat, and she began to 
bat at the image's arms, flailing away with a random flurry of inept blows. 
"Okay, go! Do it!" Paige half-instructed, half- begged. She had KNOWN something 
like this was going to happen.... 

Cassie's terror was painful to witness. "Do the sweep!" Paige yelled, moving 
closer in a useless effort to make Cassie hear and respond. "Cassie! Do it!" Her 
urgent coaching went completely unheeded, and a cold claw of dread clutched at 
Paige's stomach. "Jubilee, shut it down! Now!" she screamed, then remembered 
there ought to be a safety override. "Computer, stop! Emergency stop!" 

At least one of their interventions worked, because in an instant the image 
soundlessly evaporated. Left unbalanced by the sudden disappearance of the 
opposing force, Cassie crashed forward to her knees. The shock of that 
unexpected pain made her gasp and drag in a ragged hitch of air. One hand shot 
to the floor, saving her from total collapse, and the other went to her throat. 
She choked, trying to stifle any further cries, producing a muffled whimper 
instead. 

Jubilee's voice echoed from the walls, "Beast! Get down to the Danger Room, 
like, yesterday! Your girlfriend's freakin' out!" 

That galvanized Cassie into trying to stand, gulping, "No...!" Paige jumped to 
help her. "Don't call Hank...." 

"I think she already did," Paige apologized. She scanned the other with a 
heartsick eye, anticipating further unpleasantness as soon as Beast arrived. 
"Are you okay?" 

It was a foolish question. Cassie looked bloodlessly pale, which highlighted the 
bruises already beginning to show on her neck. Her shoulders were hunched, and 
there was a weirdly inner-directed look on her face. "I think I'm going to be 
sick," she murmured, putting her hand to her mouth. 

Paige could empathize with this--she was feeling distinctly queasy herself. For 
an instant she considered whether she could do anything about this imminent 
event by husking; nothing practical or non- revolting came to mind. Then her 
sensible, problem-solving brain provided a much simpler solution. "This way," 
she said, and guided Cassie to the changing area just outside the Danger Room. 

By running the last few steps, Cassie arrived in time to throw up into a sink. 
Paige made an involuntary grimace, and stepped back to give her an illusion of 
privacy. She was trying not to stare, trying to think what to do next, when the 
door flew open with a crash that threatened to tear it from its hinges. Cassie 
sprang up from splashing cold water on her face and whirled to face this new, 
unknown threat with a hoarse cry of alarm. Paige barely refrained from screaming 
herself as Hank dashed in. 

"Cassie!" he cried, alarmed at the sight of her shocky complexion and haunted 
eyes. She stumbled into his arms, grateful beyond words for that refuge. 

Emma, who had been working near Hank in the laboratory, had heard Jubilee's 
emergency call from the control booth of the Danger Room, and determined their 
true location when she checked back with a mental scan. She'd passed this 
crucial data on to Hank, and been all but trampled for her pains as Hank bolted 
to the rescue. She stalked in behind him now, heels ringing a furious tattoo on 
the tile floor. Angelo, clad only in a white paper gown that sharply accented 
his strange grey coloring, followed. Reluctance at being seen this way had lost 
the battle with his curiosity. A few seconds later, Jubilee barged into the 
changing room as well. 

"What happened?" Hank demanded of Paige, in what could only be described as a 
growl. 

Paige swallowed hard, and looked to Jubilee, who for once was speechless. Emma, 
however, was not. "Don't you DARE use that tone of voice with my students," she 
snapped, crossing her arms and stamping her foot. "You haven't the SLIGHTEST 
shred of evidence they did anything wrong." She looked around the clean, bare 
room for signs of gore, without success. "And it's not like she's irreparably 
damaged." 

As Emma spoke, she skimmed Cassie's mind, just as a precaution against being 
proved wrong on that score. Whisking through the jumbled mix of emotions, Emma 
caught part of a stray thought, <...not their fault...> 

<You're damned straight it's not their fault!> Emma lashed out silently. <Now 
pull your silly self together and say so!> 

"It's not the girls' fault," Cassie croaked, just as Hank was preparing to 
launch a heated riposte against Emma's cold-hearted words. "We were...having 
fun, getting to know each other with a little workout session." She swallowed 
and her voice strengthened somewhat. "I didn't get hurt...just had a 
little...you know...panic attack."

"We didn't try to scare her on purpose or anything," Jubilee inserted, looking 
quite distressed, for her.

"Honest, we wouldn't," Paige added. "We stopped the program as quick as we 
could." 

Hank still looked less than happy, but after a pause he said, "I accept it was 
an...unfortunate misunderstanding?" He looked down into Cassie's wet eyes, 
making sure with a silent question. 

She nodded as briskly as she could. "It's okay, you guys. Really, it's NOT your 
fault, don't worry." 

"Perhaps we should repair to the medical lab, then, and I can just do a quick 
check--" 

"I THINK you are already in the middle of a check-up?" Emma said, waving an arm 
at Angelo, who blanched to suddenly find himself the center of all eyes in his 
skimpy paper gown. 

"Don' mind me--she can have the rest of my turn," he said, poorly disguising his 
eagerness to escape the remainder of his ordeal. "Yo, Jubilee, quit starin' at 
my legs!" Jubilee snorted, and the gleam in her eyes promised massive future 
teasing, but for the moment she restrained herself. 

"I really am okay," Cassie said. "You could...look me over later, couldn't you?" 
She begged with her eyes for Hank to let the unpleasant scene end. 

Ignoring Emma's tapping foot, Hank gently tilted Cassie's head back to see the 
bruises on her throat. "How about if you come to the lab now, and just rest a 
few minutes in a side room until I have completed Angelo's physical? I don't 
like the looks of those bruises." 

Cassie nodded in resignation. Emma sniffed, but prudently chose not to speak. 
Turning towards Paige and Jubilee, Hank continued, "My apologies, ladies, for my 
unnecessarily harsh tone just now." He reflected in passing he seemed to be 
saying that type of thing unusually often lately; he was not, however, prepared 
to pursue the idea at the moment. "Angelo, we had best get you back to the lab 
before you catch cold, don't you think?" Angelo, who had been doing a good job 
of not looking anyone in the eye, scowled at having attention brought back to 
his state of undress. 

"I'll help the 'ladies' close the Danger Room," said Emma, and with a meaningful 
look, she gestured for the two of them to precede her out the door. 

Cassie reluctantly left Hank's embrace, but clung to his hand as they walked 
down the corridor. It was a silent journey. Despite that, the air around them 
fairly vibrated with pent-up emotion. 

*          *          *

Later that afternoon, at four o' clock, the door to the solarium opened slowly, 
and Sean's poked his head in. "Aye, and here you are," he said, trying to sound 
jolly, but not succeeding very well. 

Cassie was gazing out the glassed-in walls at the view of the west lawn, but she 
didn't seem to be seeing it. "Yes, I wanted to be on time," she answered 
quietly. As he entered, she moved to stand behind a table at one end of the 
room, which held a small sheaf of papers. The seven older Generation X-students 
followed Sean in, with a cold- faced Emma bringing up the rear. 

It was obvious to Cassie that the incident in the Danger Room had been 
thoroughly discussed by one and all. Jubilee and Paige's embarrassment was 
evident, as was the varying degrees of disdain or uncertainty on the other young 
faces. Emma looked just as coolly hostile as she had in the professor's office, 
and even Sean seemed dubious now. 

Cassie seated herself behind the small table, taking what comfort she could in 
the feeling it gave of providing a protective barricade. The others took up 
seats in the loosely grouped, comfortable chairs that made the solarium such a 
pleasant spot to lounge. No one spoke. 

Drawing on her experience of speaking to groups of would-be writers, Cassie 
managed to clear her throat, smile and say, "I think most of you know me 
already, Cassie Cantrell." 

She had assumed that if the professor had decided to change his mind about her 
teaching because of the incident in the Danger Room, Emma would have gleefully 
so informed her as soon as possible. "I guess you might also know that Professor 
Xavier has suggested we try having an English Composition class together this 
summer." No response, except for an ostentatious shift of position from Emma, 
which enabled her to better stare out the window in clear, if wordless, protest. 

"I've been making my living for several years now writing romance novels," 
Cassie continued gamely. "That's not quite the same as regular composition, I 
know, but I think it's close enough for starters. Also, I majored in American 
Lit in college, and was halfway planning to be an English teacher someday, so 
I've taken a few education courses." Sean perked up a bit at this, and she 
smiled directly at him, glad to see any sign of interest at all. "It sort of 
slipped my mind this morning--I hadn't expected to be going up for a job 
interview in my gardening clothes, and I was a little nervous." 

He chuckled at the recollection. "We don't have that strict a dress code." 

Cassie's eyes cut towards Emma. 'Apparently not', she thought, then hoped 
belatedly Emma wasn't listening in on her thoughts. Hank had warned her about 
that--along with a few other things. 

"Perhaps you have some questions?" Cassie suggested, looking around the 
assembled group. 

The silence remained unbroken for several long moments. Then Angelo addressed 
one of the group's privately arrived at complaints by grumbling, "Why we need to 
learn this stuff anyway? We ain't gonna be writers." His challenging look was 
shared between Sean and Emma as well as Cassie, somewhat to her relief. 

She took a deep breath, squelching the temptation to say, 'Because Professor 
Xavier says so.' Then an idea came to her. She ran a hand over the papers she 
had prepared for a different explanation, and boldly jumped in before she could 
have second thoughts. "Maybe not. But...someday you might want to write a 
speech, or a letter. That's an important skill to have." 

"Oh, yeah, sure," Jubilee muttered half-under her breath. Although no one else 
spoke, a few heads nodded agreement. 

"You know you have enemies." This matter-of-fact statement shocked the group, 
and a flicker of wary interest charged the room. "You can't meet some of them 
face to face; they're too well-protected, and they won't fight you on your 
ground." Sean nodded slowly. Even Emma turned her face back towards Cassie for 
the moment. 

"The way some of you look works against you with some people," Cassie continued, 
not meeting anyone's eyes directly as she spoke. A quick, indrawn hiss of breath 
confirmed her suspicion this was NOT something they often--maybe ever--said 
aloud. "But if you can put clear thoughts on paper...you can confront anyone. 
You can state your case and not be shouted down. You can show someone how it 
feels to be you...so they see the real you, inside." 

She finally held them all transfixed. There were some angry faces, but all eyes, 
all attention, was locked on her. "I have something here I think will prove my 
point, even though I wrote it for another reason." Cassie picked up the papers 
in front of her, hesitated a moment more, then stood. "Or maybe it IS the same 
reason. I've always thought I communicated better on paper than with talking, 
you see...." 

Her first two steps away from the table were brisk, but then she slowed to a 
stop. "See, the thing is...." With extreme effort, Cassie stopped her nervous 
hand motions; she was rolling the papers into a tube. "...I was married this 
time five years ago. In a few weeks, it will be the anniversary of the day my 
husband...finally lost his battle against insanity, and tried to kill me." 

Jaws dropped, but all other movement ceased. That remark had always been quite 
the conversation stopper, Cassie reflected. The few times she'd ever been able 
to make herself say it, that is. 

"That's the facts," she continued, after reminding herself to take another deep 
breath. "Plain facts might tell you something about me, or they might not. If 
you didn't have the background to relate to those facts." Despite her deep 
breathing, she was starting to feel dizzy. "I could try to tell you out 
loud--but that's not something I'm good at. Like I said already." Cassie forced 
herself to focus on what she was trying to say. "With writing, you can take your 
time, and get it right." 

She walked to the chair where Paige was sitting, and tried to take one paper 
from the batch she held, but her hands were starting to tremble, making the task 
nearly impossible. "Here, let me help," Paige murmured, and took them from her. 
Cassie looked for a second as though she might try to grab them back, but then 
she stepped away. "Do we...each get one?" 

Cassie nodded, and stood her ground as Paige rose to distribute the result of 
her afternoon's work. But before the girl was halfway around, her nerve broke. 
"I guess..." She caught Sean's eye; he was looking stunned and apprehensive. 
"...you can let me know, about the days and time and all." Then, with carefully 
controlled movements that shouted how much she would rather run, Cassie walked 
from the room. 

Consumed with curiosity, Jubilee almost snatched her paper from Paige. Monet 
took hers with cool grace, but began to scan it right away. Sean reached out and 
snagged one as Paige passed him, her arm stretched out to hand a copy to Jono, 
sitting behind him. "Snap it up, *chica*, some of us are slow readers," Angelo 
complained with a mocking grin as he took his. 

By the time Paige finished her self-imposed task and got back to her seat, the 
group was absorbed in their reading. Scattered intakes of breath urged her to 
hurry and catch up. 

Her skin began to tingle after her first quick scan, and she automatically 
damped her power's response to threat. "Oh, this is--" Understanding flooded her 
mind, far too late to do any good. "Oh, no...." 

"Madre de Dios," whispered Angelo grimly, in a sort of reply. "Someone did 
somethin' like this to *mi familia*, I'd rip them up!" 

"No wonder she went, like, totally ballistic," Jubilee observed, earrings 
twitching as she shook her head. "Why didn't she just TELL us, fer cryin' out 
loud?" 

"As she said only moments ago, Jubilee," Monet replied, "some things are too 
difficult to speak of." Having said this, she turned her attention back to the 
paper before her, and began to shred it into minute fragments as an unsettling 
blank look came over her features. 

<Looks like she CAN write, though,> Jono's mental 'voice' said to everyone 
present. He half-held the paper away from him, not knowing what to do with it, 
then folded it neatly and laid it across his leg, where his fingers tapped on it 
in a staccato rhythm. 

"Yes, it would seem so," agreed Sean. He glanced at Emma, trying to gauge her 
reaction. Her expression was calm, thoughtful...except for a faint crease by one 
eyebrow, which he had come to realize meant she was disturbed, but determined 
not to show it. 

"It does remain to be seen whether she can teach," Emma pointed out when she 
realized Sean was looking her way, but in a faintly uncertain tone quite unlike 
her normal self-assured one. 

"Do ye think so?" he answered softly, gesturing with his head at the still 
dumbstruck students. 

"Teach ENGLISH, then," Emma conceded, finding her trademarked ambiguous smile. 
As usual, Sean could not tell at all what it meant, what it hid. 

"You're all free until dinner," she told the students, standing up. "DO try to 
keep out of trouble for that length of time, hmmm?" She folded her paper into a 
neat, palm-sized square. "Come, Sean. We have administrative functions to 
perform." 

*          *          *

For the second time that day, Emma used her psi talent as a locating device. She 
and Sean tracked Cassie to her room. Despite Sean's uncertainty, Emma rapped 
loudly on the door. Then, contrarily, she stepped back, putting him in the 
speaker's position when Cassie opened it. 

"Er, will ye be wantin' these back?" was all Sean could think of to say on such 
short notice, proffering the few sheets left behind in the solarium which he had 
collected. 

"Oh! Oh, no...no, I don't think so," Cassie stammered. "I mean...I kept a copy 
and all...." 

"Ah, good. Well." He glanced down at Emma, who smiled sweetly at them both, but 
said nothing. "That was a bit of a surprise you gave us today." 

"I'm sorry if you think it was inappropriate material," Cassie apologized. "I 
tried not to make it too graphic. But I thought... some sort of explanation 
would clear the air." 

"I would say it cleared a few things up," Emma replied, deigning to speak at 
last. "For me, at least." She considered the other woman. "You've got more guts 
than I thought, putting that down on paper for everyone to see." 

Cassie just shrugged uncomfortably. "I've been thinking about doing it for 
awhile, for the people living here...." 

"Ah. Well, I'm sure they'll all be--" Sean gave her a sharp look, which Emma 
answered with one of innocent surprise, before continuing, "--upset to learn 
such an awful thing happened to you." 

"Not that big a deal, compared to some of the things Hank has told me about," 
Cassie murmured, embarrassed now. 

"Be that as it may," said Emma in an almost kind voice that shocked Sean much 
more than it did Cassie, "I'm going to withdraw my objection to you working with 
my students." 

"Our students," Sean amended firmly, and Emma tossed her head in a gesture that 
said, 'oh, very well, have it your own way'. "When it's convenient for ye, we 
should discuss a schedule, and that sort of thing." 

"Oh!" Cassie took a quick glance over her shoulder, and decided the room was 
neat enough for guests. "Well, we could do it now, if you like--Hank's still 
finishing up downstairs." With a shy smile, she stepped back and held the door 
open wide. "Please, come on in." 

Within a short time, treaty followed truce, and Xavier's School for Gifted 
Youngsters had officially added a new part-time telecommuting instructor to 
their teaching roster. 

*          *          *

Credit for Hank's lab sign is due to Bill Lye, according to my sources, although 
the last sentence suggesting visitors merely knock is my own. I like to keep my 
attributions straight when I can! 


Susan the Neon Nurse
(Susan Crites/CRITESS)


INFO, ETC.

More chapters of this story can be found at: 
http://web2.spydernet.com/lori/x-men.htm OR from the author, Susan Crites 
(carosue@iguana.ruralnet.net) IF you can't access the Web. Many thanks to Lori 
for our new home! 

There is also a mailing list for people who want to get new chapters ASAP. Be 
warned--you sometimes get odd extra mailings as well, when the spirit moves 
me....

Disclaimer: Since I am a) inserting a new character and b) not privy to any of 
Marvel's editorial decisions, this story is forced to be an alternate universe. 
It is similar to the 'real' one when it works out, plotwise, okay? And I DO make 
mistakes sometimes, I know. Such is life.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 
Don't forget to support the fanfic writers who work tirelessly to support your 
reading habit! Tell your friends about Untold-L, alt.comics.fan-fiction and 
CFAN! Comment early and often! And ALWAYS ask permission before archiving or 
otherwise mass-distributing a story--people like to know where their 'children' 
are at night! :)

The Neon Nurse thanks you!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

++++++++++++++++++carosue@iguana.ruralnet.net++++++++++++++++++
Courtesy*Integrity*Perseverance*Self Control*Indomitable Spirit


---------
Neon Hearts Part 40. Hey, there, remember me? Susan the Neon Nurse? Oh....

I hesitate to waste any MORE time explaining my long absence from the hallowed 
halls of Fanficdom. Let's just say I hope to get back to my former 
much-more-frequent posting schedule from here on out!

Established X-things still copyright to Marvel and whoever's in charge THIS 
week....


PART 40--PRELUDE


"Crisis? So what? We're the X-men--we THRIVE on crisis!"

"Very funny, Scott." Although her expression did not change, Jean's cool tone 
made the outwardly mild words a rebuke. 

Any fool could plainly see that major irritation control was in progress with 
this month's X-chatelaine. Despite that, Bobby fearlessly rushed in. "Scott made 
a joke? Catch me, I'm gonna faint!" Then he grasped the seat of his chair with 
both hands, laughing, as Jean gave it an impatient telekinetic shake.

"Can you at least be serious until we get our plans finalized?" Jean rattled her 
sheaf of notes and muttered, "I love Nathan dearly, but an hour and a half is 
NOT adequate advance notice for a non-emergency visit. Not when he's bringing 
his whole team, anyway."

"And when we already have the youngsters here," Scott agreed, wisely abandoning 
his mild attempt to soothe Jean with humor. He of all people knew that making 
sure things ran perfectly when it was her turn to oversee the X-mansion's 
household needs was a particular point of pride with her. Made her touchy.

"Can't get away from those darn holiday crowds ANYwhere these days," Bobby 
observed. It would take a great deal more than an annoyed Jean to make HIM give 
up his trademarked wisecracks, even temporarily.

"Look, if they don't like the room assignments, too bad, but they'll live," 
Scott said. "They can always scout out a Motel 6 and start their vacation a 
night early, if they REALLY object."

"That's true." Jean decisively yanked the top paper off her stack and smacked it 
down on the table top. "Next problem--dinner."

Bishop, whose turn it was to prepare the evening meal, had been waiting for some 
time to voice his objections. "I am always willing to do my part. But cooking 
for 40 requires more preparation time than we have--unless we all dine on 
something simple? I believe we have enough canned beans and hot dogs--" 

"No," Jean said hurriedly, almost but not quite hiding a delicate shudder. "I'm 
sure we can think of SOMETHING else."

"You know, even with all the extra leaves added to the table it's going to be 
close quarters at dinner," Scott remarked, frowning at the mental image of 
barely controlled dining chaos, with three different teams squeezed in elbow to 
jostling elbow. 

"We could call for the banquet room at Pizza Hut," Bobby suggested. "Order two 
of everything to start, and take it from there."

Jean started to remonstrate with him, out of habit, then stopped to actually 
consider his suggestion. "Take-out food might be a good option, actually," she 
conceded. "But...why don't we get more of a variety, and then have an informal 
buffet in the big rec room?"

"Good idea!" Scott said, and Bishop nodded as well. "It's been quite a while 
since this many of us have been able to get together when there wasn't a 
crisis--good opportunity to mingle and chat."

The wide smile that began to spread across Jean's face was contagious, as it 
signaled to the rest of the impromptu social committee they were going to get 
early release for good behavior. "That will take care of entertainment, 
too--people can go or stay as they like, but we will have at least provided 
SOMETHING everyone can do and enjoy."

"Would it be...appropriate to place an order with the Verdant Dragon?" Bishop 
inquired with uncharacteristic diffidence. He had developed a strong partiality 
to Chinese food--so exotically different from anything he'd ever eaten in his 
time--and had even been caught watching PBS shows that taught its preparation. 
Yet somehow he still seemed to believe his fascination with that cuisine was a 
secret from his teammates.

"Yes, that would be fine, Bishop."

"Especially those little eggrolls," Scott suggested. "And extra hot oil sauce." 
Scott held the team record for number eaten in a row without taking a drink of 
ice water.

"I'll do the pizza run," Bobby volunteered, knowing that was the best way to 
ensure a good selection of the toppings he favored. 

"No more than two Super Supremes," Jean said automatically.

"Gotcha."

*          *          *

Hank rattled out his final notes on the Generation X students in a flurry of 
rapid-fire keyboard strokes, then rose with a sigh of relief. Since he was 
alone, he headed for the elevator using his efficient brachiating lope. Not that 
anyone around the mansion thought twice about seeing Hank use his legs AND arms 
to get around; it was just too fast a pace for most others to comfortably 
maintain. 

Amazing how quickly a routine day could turn to a grueling exercise in 
self-discipline. Hank had had to exert himself to chat his way through the last 
few medical exams, when he would have preferred to silently rush through as 
quickly as accuracy would allow. Not that he was angry at any of the 
students--but the incident in the Danger Room had upset Cassie tremendously. He 
couldn't help but fret when his duty kept him from her side when she needed his 
comfort. 

Professionalism had also required he stay the extra hour to type in his 
observations, rather than leaving them for the next day. But at last the task 
was done, and he was free to go to her. 'If she's still upset,' Hank thought as 
he left the elevator and headed towards their room, 'I'll take her out for a 
private dinner somewhere.' Quite likely she would be grateful not to have to 
face everyone tonight.

But as Hank opened the door, he was astonished to hear Cassie saying with eager 
animation, "--friend of mine has a son with fairly severe dyslexia. She's been 
very involved in his education plans. I bet I can get some good pointers from 
her on what's helped him learn best." That first surprise turned to amazement at 
the sight of Emma nodding approval of Cassie's idea. Sean was present as well, 
looking right at home in Hank's personal easy chair. 

Hank cleared his throat, since none of the three present seemed to have noticed 
that he'd walked in. "Hank!" Cassie cried happily, and bounced to her feet, as 
elated as if she'd parted from him weeks ago, instead of a few hours. He 
wondered if the invisible skip he could see in Cassie's walk as she crossed the 
room to greet him with a hug and kiss was evident to anyone else but him. Emma 
was certainly looking amused over SOMEthing. It still gave his spirits a much 
needed lift, and helped him smile with more realistic welcome upon the 
unexpected visitors, though they were the last two people in the state he would 
have expected to find in private conference with Cassie. 

"All through with the check-ups, then?" Sean asked Hank heartily, rising up from 
the oversized chair he must suspect belonged to the room's larger occupant.

"Your students are as healthy as a herd of adolescent equines," Hank assured 
them as he hugged Cassie lightly to his side. 

"Excellent," Emma said, rising herself. "Cassie, perhaps we can finish going 
over the student roster after dinner?" She broadcast the impression of not quite 
seeing Hank, making it plain she hadn't yet forgiven him for his outburst at two 
of her proteges earlier that day.

"Or at least sometime before we head for home," Sean amended smoothly, following 
his habitual pattern of attempting to lighten the impact of Emma's authoritarian 
ways.

"That's fine with me. I'm always around here somewhere," Cassie replied, as the 
visitors made their way to the door. 

Once goodbyes were said and they were alone, Cassie greeted Hank more 
physically. He was surprised but pleased to find he could detect no trace of 
distress lingering from the afternoon's debacle, when Paige and Jubilee had 
unwittingly induced a panic attack in her by subjecting her to a Danger Room 
sequence. He therefore judged it safe to say, "If you care to divulge the 
secret, I suspect there would be quite a market for your astounding ability to 
induce Emma to eat out of your hand on such short acquaintance."

Cassie laughed, as he'd intended, and leaned back with her hands gripped around 
his waist, like a giddy child swinging herself on the trunk of a tree. "I have 
to admit, she kind of put me off when I first met her. But once you get to know 
her, she's nice."

Hank snorted. "You have just earned a place in history as the first person to 
ever define our Miss Frost as 'nice'." He considered, then dismissed, any idea 
of telling tales out of school concerning Emma's past at this point in time. Not 
while things were unexpectedly going smoothly between the two women.

"Well, nice in her own way," Cassie amended, trying to be fair and yet honest.

"So...you're proceeding with the composition class, I take it?" Cassie had 
filled him in on the professor's idea, and everyone's reaction to it, just 
before lunchtime. He had feared the unfortunate incident in the Danger Room 
might have derailed what seemed to him an excellent plan to help Cassie gain 
acceptance and respect.

"Oh, yes. Sean and Emma and I were talking about details when you came in." 
Cassie paused, clearly considering something, then gave him a quick squeeze 
before stepping out of his light embrace. Looking back over her shoulder to 
maintain connection through eye contact, she moved to the desk and picked up a 
sheet of paper. "We did have that group meeting, with the kids? And I gave 
everyone...this."

Hank glanced at the paper she placed in his hands, and managed to limit his 
reaction to a faint twitch as he saw what it was about. Cassie was eyeing him 
anxiously now, and he bent his head quickly to read the words, realizing only as 
he did so that it was also a way to evade her gaze. 

Despite the fact that he already had some knowledge of the event it detailed, 
useless adrenalin surged through him, making his fur rise as though the villain 
in her scenario was physically present and available for combat. Reading about 
Cassie's trauma somehow rocked him in a way that hearing about it had not. She 
had outlined the event in a low key yet compelling style that dragged the reader 
into her reality. Too, there were details here he hadn't known, things she 
hadn't shared with him in her explanation of her phobic reactions, and that 
upset him further. What else was she keeping to herself... keeping from him?

He could not continue reading long with her watching him. With some difficulty, 
because he felt strangely compelled to give this document minute study, Hank 
lowered the paper. "I...would think everyone understands now, concerning the 
incident in the Danger Room."

"I hope so." He'd said the right thing; her face cleared and she relaxed 
noticeably. "That's why I wrote it."

"I thought you were joking about doing that," he explained, not quite sure why 
he felt faintly disturbed about it. True, his style of coping with unpleasant 
truth was to somehow make a joke of it, use humor to diffuse difficult 
situations. This restrained but carefully detailed discussion of a personal 
horror was quite possibly beyond the range of his psychological abilities. But 
was that the only reason this troubled him?

"I thought I was too." Cassie combed her fingers up through her hair as she 
sought just the right phrase, and the familiar gesture caught at Hank's heart, 
an instant of familiarity in this alien territory. "But all of a sudden it 
seemed like the only way to...to let people know I'm not NATURALLY a psycho." 

"Of course you aren't," Hank murmured. Had she been fearing the others thought 
so?

"Well, anyway, the cat's out of the bag now." She sat down on the edge of the 
armchair, hands crossed over her knees. "And...I'm glad." Her tone as she said 
these last two words held an edge of wonder.

"If you're glad, then so am I," Hank averred instantly.

"I guess I've just been dreading having to explain--and now...it's like finally 
going to the dentist or something, you know? After you've put it off and off and 
off? And then once you go, it wasn't so bad, and you feel like a goof for being 
such a baby?"

"Are you going to tell the others, or merely pass out a few more copies?" Too 
late, he worried she might hear unintended sarcasm in his choice of words.

"I don't know." Even considering there were still some individuals remaining 
uninformed didn't shift her paradoxical light-hearted look. "See, if I DO decide 
to just talk to everyone else, I have this now as a...conversational opener?"

A chime sounded in the room, signalling an incoming intercom message. "Yes?" 
Hank spoke, strangely glad to have this peculiar conversation interrupted.

"Hank, we've got a change in dinner plans," came Jean's voice. "Nathan is 
coming, with X-Force. So we've set dinner back to seven, and we'll be eating in 
the large recreation room downstairs, buffet style."

"Do you need any help with anything, Jean?" Cassie asked immediately.

"Thanks, but no. We've made calls for take-out food, and we've got drivers all 
set to go pick up the orders. Just come on down about seven. Casual dress."

"Thanks, Jean," Cassie said, Hank echoing her.

As Jean signed off, Cassie moved to the closet, already chewing lightly on her 
upper lip. "Less than an hour--oh, great! Well, let's see what's not in the 
wash."

"But...Jean just said...." Hank said, baffled by the intent, not QUITE worried 
look that had come over Cassie's face.

"Casual means something different for us female types," Cassie half- laughed. 
"Not that you don't spruce up--it's just not supposed to SHOW." She started 
rummaging through her side of the closet as Hank shook his head, mystified anew 
that an entire separate culture had apparently existed under his nose all his 
life, and he'd never noticed. Cassie shifted the garments on hangers as rapidly 
as Gambit shuffled cards, pausing only to briefly consider possible candidates. 
"Maybe the horse shirt? No, that's a little TOO nice, plus I wore it to go out 
in already." 

"That made it lose its amateur standing?" Hank tried to joke.

"Kind of like that," she said agreeably, tossing him a friendly glance that also 
said 'there's no way to explain it to you'. "You don't have to worry--you always 
look nice."

Hank opened his mouth to reply with joking thanks, then shut it as realization 
struck. "Wait, I think I grasp your point about the requirements for 'casual 
dress'." Cassie politely paused her search to give him her full attention. "I do 
it myself--make an effort to procure garments that bespeak sartorial 
sophistication, but in an understated way. There is a certain line, past which 
one's hidden purposes would become obvious." He felt absurdly pleased with 
himself for reasoning this out.

"Purposes?" Cassie's acknowledging smile shifted a moment as her attention tried 
to escape back to her own apparel problem.

Was this fit of honesty being propelled by HER revelations? "I've always agreed 
with the saying about the best defense being a good offense, although I tend to 
use humor rather than more overt forms of aggression. Humor and...pretense. 
Acting as though everything is just fine and dandy." He could tell she was not 
following this at all. "By appearing in public in fashions appropriate to a 
young...well, relatively young professional fellow, I am silently stating that I 
am...unbowed by the physical appearance my mutancy conferred on me. That an 
individual of SOME urbanity lurks beneath the bestial exterior."

Hank smiled, but it faltered when he realized Cassie was clearly trying to hide 
her dismay. "But--but, Hank. I LIKE the way you look!"

He laughed dismissively, squelching his initial reaction of irritation--or 
something darker?--at her statement. "I suppose that's why they say love is 
blind."

"Hank!" Now she looked quite shocked, and he could not fathom why. How on earth 
had they gotten onto this subject anyway? The last thing he would have chosen to 
do was upset her further, when he knew she'd had a traumatic day. With apology 
in mind, he moved to take her in his arms.

She let him pull her close, but turned sideways within his embrace so she could 
grasp his hand, and then stroke his forearm. "I don't see why it's strange for 
me to like your fur," she murmured, soothingly but with a note of concern. "It's 
a lovely shade of blue, and a wonderful combination of textures." She looked up 
at him with earnest entreaty, silently urging him to understand her. "Very 
aesthetically appealing."

"Aesthetics are in the mind of the beholder." Something very strange about this 
conversation--had they really never had it before? Or had he been in such a daze 
of hope and wonder the first few days after they met that he didn't remember? 
"And there is more to my, ah, unique appearance than the fur."

"Well, yes, I suppose so."

'Just drop it', Hank ordered himself. Yet, perversely, he essayed a mild 
theoretical provocation. "If it were suddenly magically possible to 
choose--which would you prefer, this body, or my original one?"

Cassie only hesitated a moment. "Whichever one would make you happy."

"You're evading the point, my dear. The idea--" yes, what on earth WAS the idea? 
What was he doing grilling her like this, even in a supposedly lighthearted way? 
"--was for me to learn YOUR preference."

"Welll...." She obviously didn't want to say, didn't want to hurt his feelings, 
and he mentally kicked himself for starting the whole mess. "The thing is, 
without your fur and all, we wouldn't have met. So I guess I'd be sort of 
sentimentally attached to this version."

This shocked him. "You wouldn't have helped a normal-looking stranger?"

"Oh, yes, probably, but...if just an ordinary guy had pulled into that parking 
space, I don't think I'd have given him a second look-- probably not even a long 
first one. I wouldn't have NOTICED he needed a quarter for the meter, see?" 

He'd forgotten, for a moment, about Cassie's phobia. No, she wouldn't have 
surreptitiously watched a strange man, or spoken to one, or gone to dinner...but 
a quasi-human substitute had been acceptable to her. "It was my unusual 
appearance that caught your attention; I can understand that...." But to cling 
to that preference now--was that HEALTHY? Hank wondered for the first time if 
their relationship was as solidly grounded as he had so far believed.

"Sort of--I recognized you from TV. But...I DID like the way you looked. Look." 
Cassie was sensing a potentially serious problem, and at last becoming genuinely 
worried. "I kind of assume you thought I was reasonably attractive as well?" she 
prodded, trying to match his former light tones.

This made him smile, despite his distress. "Yes, I do recall thinking something 
along those lines."

"Well, then, it's the same thing, isn't it?"

"I suppose." Hank forced a laugh, and this time succeeded in backing off the 
subject. It WASN'T the same, but he could see no point in making an issue of it. 
"And I fear I am distracting you from your task." 

Cassie hesitated long enough to give him a searching look, then silently agreed 
to the change of subject. With a quick kiss, she turned away from him and back 
to the closet. "It shouldn't take me MUCH longer," she promised.

True to her words, Cassie made her final decision within five minutes, a top cut 
like a t-shirt, but made of crimson silk. She laid it out on the bed, and Hank 
said, "Well, half-way there!" in encouraging tones. But she turned out to have 
already made up her mind about the rest of her outfit--fairly new but otherwise 
unremarkable denim jeans, which she pulled on in front of the full-length mirror 
of the closet door. They were cut western-style, the fit too crisp and snug to 
be currently fashionable, but Hank was not at all inclined to complain. 

After she buttoned them, Cassie stuck her thumb in the waistband, looking 
faintly perturbed. She turned from side to side, examining her silhouette in the 
mirror, and Hank braced himself for the question every man dreads from his mate. 
But, amazingly enough, she seemed to decide on her own that she hadn't 
mysteriously ballooned overnight into a candidate for Weight Watchers' Emergency 
911 plan, and he heaved a silent sigh of relief. 

There was a tense moment when she could not find the suede half-boots that 
matched her jeans. But Hank discovered that the box in which they'd come from 
Colorado in had merely tumbled to his side of the closet. He accepted his hero's 
award--multiple quick kisses--with enthusiasm, then followed Cassie into the 
bathroom, to sit and chat companionably while she began the final stage of 
preparation, hair and makeup. He wondered in passing how long it would take to 
achieve the elusive 'didn't do a thing' look.

"Hank," Cassie said as she began to wield a curling iron, rolling here and 
straightening there. "Do you suppose someone has told Joseph about the change in 
dinner plans?"

"Mmm, good question." Hank did a quick mental tally over who would be present 
downstairs and how much potential trouble there might be. No doubt everyone 
would already have been briefed about their visitor, so there ought not to be 
any unpleasant surprises.... But if he was already avoiding the X-men, would he 
not feel even more inclined to keep away from a whole mutant horde?

Their minds are running in the same track on this one. "He might not WANT to 
come down, but it's nice to be asked," Cassie observed gently, using the 
mirror's reflection to meet Hank's eyes.

Speaking as a fellow outsider, Hank assumed. However, she WAS right. "Yes, we 
should go mention the matter to him. The decision will then be his, to come down 
and join us, or take advantage of everyone's absence to go and raid the 
refrigerator."

Cassie's reflection smiled warmly at him. With a few quick motions she spritzed 
something that smelled like apples, alcohol and mystery solvents on her hair, 
and shook her head back and forth several times. Hank then watched in wonder as 
what seemed like random strokes of her brush turned taut, stress-shined crimps 
of hair into silken locks. Waving here, curling there, it made Cassie look like 
a golden fairytale princess. But a casual one.

"I'm all ready," she laughed, reacting to his bemused expression. "Let's go."

Squelching his doubts, Hank led the way down the hushed, elegantly panelled hall 
towards the guest room where Joseph was quartered. Cassie slipped her arm 
through his and squeezed it, favoring him with a warm look of approval.

'Strange', Hank mused to himself, while returning Cassie's gesture with a mimed 
bow and a courtly smile. 'A mere phantasm of photons sends her into a 
full-fledged panic. But someone who was once a threat to the human race second 
only to the proliferation of nuclear weaponry--HIM, she can serenely invite to 
dinner!' Ah well, her sympathetic heart was one of the things he loved best 
about her. He dismissed his mild mental criticism with an invisible shrug as 
they proceeded with her plan.

*          *          *

Joseph sat at a small desk before the window in his room, staring out at the 
neatly groomed landscape, seeing none of it. His long fingers toyed with the 
corner of the stack of reports Xavier had given him several days before, 
riffling the edges of the damning evidence of his deadly personality. Not that 
he needed physical touch to keep it in his mind. Deeds of a past he could not 
recall nevertheless burned in his dreams, his every waking thought.

He'd tried to find emotions, ANY emotions, left within him that could be tied to 
that cold list of the events of his life, but sifting through his mind for them 
was like grappling with fog. And that colorless non-feeling was now creeping 
steadily into THIS life, like grey water seeping in to slowly engulf him in 
nothingness.

He had so boldly told Xavier he would be back with questions, as soon as he read 
the unwieldy pile of printed out reports. But his initial indignation over 
learning the truth behind his amnesia had quickly given way to sick, numb 
horror. Horror shared with chilling evenness between what HE had once done and 
what had been done TO him, in a world even colder and madder than he had come to 
believe this one to be.

A blank sheet of paper on the desk mocked him, a reminder of his attempt to 
apply himself to the task of writing up his promised list of questions. The only 
one he could formulate was...why? Why let him live, when he was such a clear and 
present danger? Witness how he had ALREADY begun to consider ways to organize a 
fight against the humans--at least some of the humans--for the protection of 
mutants. It was excruciatingly clear that, if he lived, history was at very 
serious risk of repeating itself.

A knock on the door interrupted Joseph's dreary reveries, and his mindless 
stomach reacted with a growl to the imminence of food. Ironic how, despite his 
doubts about continuing his existence, his still-depleted physical body was 
ready and extremely willing to carry on the task of rebuilding itself.

Reaching out with his powers, Joseph turned the knob and opened the door, rising 
to walk towards it as he did so. He reminded himself to be courteous to whoever 
was bearing his dinner tray. So far he had been treated with tense but 
meticulous propriety, and it behooved him to reflect those civilities. 

Seeing Hank and Cassie in the door, without the expected dinner tray, was a mild 
shock that lifted the greyness for a moment. Visitors were so outside his 
thoughts right now it was almost an alien concept. Adding to his temporary 
discomfiture was the startling crimson of Cassie's shirt, a shout of color in 
the blandly decorated room. Joseph wondered a moment, in passing, if the tan, 
cream and grey surroundings could somehow be contributing to his low state of 
mind. 

Although her blue-furred lover looked noncommittal, Cassie was smiling as though 
she were genuinely glad to see him. Joseph found he could not help smiling back, 
as one did almost automatically in response to a puppy, or a child. After a 
pause where she seemed to be waiting for Hank McCoy to speak, Cassie ventured, 
"There's been a change in dinner plans for tonight. We thought you would want to 
know."

She cued her companion with a look, and Hank elaborated, "We have two other 
teams visiting, and dining room space is thus at a premium. So we are all 
gathering in a larger room downstairs for an informal buffet. The food should be 
arriving momentarily, I believe."

Joseph said nothing, waiting for a more definite statement on how this was 
expected to affect him. Cassie obliged by adding, "You're welcome to join us."

"Am I?" He was quite certain she was wrong. Cassie blinked, then looked to Hank 
again. 'Is he the source of ALL your life's answers, liebschen?' Joseph 
wondered, his grim melancholy surging back.

Hank answered blandly, "I rather think so." He had already considered the 
possibilities of various encounters, and didn't think any of the potentials were 
TOO dreadful. "On the whole, we tend towards 'forgive and forget' as operational 
policy." 

Cassie looked from one reserved countenance to the other, biting her lower lip, 
then turned to Joseph. "You know, I've found--in fact I've rediscovered 
today--that when you have to deal with...something, and other people are 
involved, sometimes it's better just to get it all over with at once. Do it all 
in a batch, if you see what I mean?" Joseph merely continued to gaze at her with 
an expression of mild inquiry, as if waiting patiently for her to say something 
that made sense. "Especially if you know you have at least a couple of people 
ready to...be supportive?" It occurred to her belatedly that perhaps she was 
making the most AMAZING fool of herself....

Watching this exchange, Hank abruptly identified the uncomfortable sensation he 
had been trying to repress ever since Cassie made her suggestion. Seeing Cassie 
reaching out to others...at least, THIS other, who was known to have an 
exceedingly charismatic personality, and must be admitted to be a handsome 
specimen.... This unworthy emotion he was experiencing was plain old jealousy.

Sensing things were not going as she had hoped, Cassie broke into the growing 
silence again. "If you really would rather not, it's okay. We're not trying to 
be pushy." Another glance at Hank, who just smiled, a little more thinly than 
before, Joseph thought. "But it's going to get boring, staying up here forever," 
she finished, a little lamely.

"Should you prefer to dine privately," the 'again' that Hank left unsaid 
nevertheless hung in the air, "there ought to be little activity in the kitchen, 
once we are all gathered downstairs." He tried for some normalizing levity. "The 
quality of leftovers available for grazing upon is generally quite high--I know 
because I myself partake, after late hours in the lab, on a sadly regular 
basis."

One thing Joseph had learned about himself was that he had a dislike of being 
manipulated by those whose motives he did not know. His mind suddenly made 
itself up. "I believe I will join the group for the evening meal." 

"Oh, good!" exclaimed Cassie, all but clapping her hands. 

Joseph nearly smiled again. She might be misguided, and was certainly naive. But 
her innocent concern was patently genuine; he hoped this dinner party would not 
disabuse her of her kind notions about his welcome. Very odd, feeling such a 
mundane concern...actually FEELING it. "I will join you shortly." 

"Just take the elevator down one floor past the ground level," Hank advised. 
With a nod from Joseph, the door closed, not QUITE in his face.

Preparing to follow Hank's own advice, the couple walked back down the way they 
had come, towards the elevator. "Do you think he'll really come?" Cassie asked, 
after they had traveled a discreet distance.

"Probably," Hank replied, annoyed with himself for sifting Cassie's words for 
hidden clues to possible secret intentions. "But you did your best, my dear. The 
rest is up to him."

"I guess." They paused before the elevator and Hank firmly pushed the button. 
"But somehow...it doesn't feel that simple...."

"Cassie, it's only dinner, not his last chance for earthly happiness." Hank made 
sure to say this with a fond smile, and Cassie smiled back at him, though she 
still looked faintly dubious. "Charles will probably thank you if he DOES come 
down, but I imagine he had his own plans for luring him out soon."

"They did used to be friends, didn't they?" At this thought, the last trace of 
worry left Cassie's face.

"Very good friends," he assured her, now on solid ground. "Speaking of 
friends--" The elevator car arrived and they stepped inside. "--let us hurry 
downstairs to meet ours."


Susan the Neon Nurse
(Susan Crites/CRITESS)


INFO, ETC.

More chapters of this story can be found at (in ABC order of servers):
http://home.att.net/~lubakmetyk/others.htm#beast
http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/Lofts/2207/neon.htm
http://gen-x.simplenet.com/stories/N/NeonHearts/neon.html
http://web2.spydernet.com/lori/x-men.htm
OR from the author, Susan Crites (carosue@iguana.ruralnet.net) IF you can't 
access the Web.

There is also a mailing list for people who want to get new chapters ASAP. Be 
warned--you sometimes get odd extra mailings as well, when the spirit moves 
me....

Disclaimer: This story started out firmly based in Marvel Reality (whatever THAT 
might be!). But as time marched on, it became its own Alternate Universe. Just 
thought I should mention it....

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 
Don't forget to support the fanfic writers who work tirelessly to support your 
reading habit! Tell your friends about Untold-L, alt.comics.fan-fiction and 
CFAN! Comment early and often! And ALWAYS ask permission before archiving or 
otherwise mass-distributing a story--people like to know where their 'children' 
are at night! :)

The Neon Nurse thanks you!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

++++++++++++++++++carosue@iguana.ruralnet.net++++++++++++++++++
Courtesy*Integrity*Perseverance*Self Control*Indomitable Spirit


"Integrity includes but goes beyond honesty. Honesty is telling the truth -- in 
other words, conforming our words with reality. Integrity is conforming reality 
to our words -- in other words, keeping promises and fulfilling expectations." 
Stephen R. Covey