[continued directly from 2a of Freak on A Leash]
 

"She kicked you out?"
 

"I kicked myself out," Scott said darkly, flipping the television channels with the remote. His pillows and blankets were spread about on the couch he was sitting on.

Warren moved aside one of the pillows and sat beside Scott. "Why didn't you go to one of the spare bedrooms, instead of camping out in the rec room?" Warren asked.

"I had to leave my TV in the room with her. And I want to watch Leno." Actually, Scott wasn't sure if he wanted to be gone the whole night, much less do something drastic like move out to another bedroom.

"You're in a pissy mood. Did you two fight?"

"To put it mildly. We've been fighting since you left. She followed me to our bedroom, even when I tried to walk away. She's really pissed. Says I'm acting like a child," Scott breathed, frowning deeply.

"Well, you are. You should talk to her about your problems, Scott. Exploding at her all of a sudden, and with no warning, will take you nowhere. You need to calmly discuss what the problem is, so you can work it out," Warren replied.

"How am I supposed to talk to her when she spends all her damn time with Logan?" Scott growled, his temper flaring as he sat next to Warren, Leno forgotten.

"Maybe you're not giving her enough attention."

"But I do. I try. I don't know. I don't know if I'm in love with her anymore, Warren, and I don't know if maybe I just want her to leave me and be with Logan. Maybe I just want it all to end. I just don't know," Scott breathed, turning to Warren, his only confidant in the whole mansion. All the other X-Men were at least five years older than he was, and expected him to be the rock-solid leader. He had to be, if he wanted their respect. Otherwise he'd just be some stupid kid who was in charge and shouldn't be. And all the others were too young, and Scott had to be their role model on top of everything else.

But with Warren, there was no expectations. He didn't have to be perfect for Warren.

"Then you need to find out, Scott," Warren said calmly, turning to watch the television.

"Yeah. I guess I do. You'd think I'd be good at introspection, but I'm not. Don't have time for it," Scott sighed.

"Make time. Take a walk. Be by yourself for a while. No Jean, no me, no X-Men. Then if you need me for a sounding board, you know where I am," Warren offered.

"I guess. I guess I do need to think about it, but I don't want to right now. I'm still pissed."

"Understandable."

"So what are you doing in the rec room this late at night?"

"Trying not to go to sleep."

Scott turned to the man beside him, studying Warren's perfect profile in the light of the television screen. There was pain in that
beautiful face, a pain Warren was trying to hide.

"Nightmares again?" Scott asked gently. Warren had been having nightmares every night, and the sound of him screaming would often wake Scott up. He would only calm down when Scott came in to comfort him. And after having an episode like today, Scott knew Warren would be afraid to sleep.

It was awkward for Scott, at first, to hold a grown man like a child, and try to soothe him, but the awkwardness quickly wore off. Scott understood how much Warren needed comforting, more than maybe anyone else in the mansion. Logan had come running, his claws popped out and ready for battle, the first night. But for the past few nights, Scott would often find Logan crouching near Warren's door when he arrived, listening to Warren cry and scream, almost as if he was making sure that Scott would go in there to comfort the winged mutant. Scott wasn't really sure what to make of that.

Warren shrugged in answer, his lips tightening. Scott felt an instant surge of sympathy for Warren. Scott, himself, knew how bad nightmares could get.

"Do you want me...to sleep with you tonight?" Scott asked tentatively.

Warren turned to Scott, raising a delicate eyebrow. Scott blushed, suddenly realizing what he just said.

"Um, er, I mean, well, not like-"

"Yes."

//So much for making up with Jean tonight,// Scott thought, wondering if he should be bothered by this fact. Part of him felt he should make up with her, but part of him just wanted to leave it like it was, and let it fall apart. He was a man who could make a decision about life or death, but he couldn't decided what he wanted with Jean. But now he had more important things to worry about.

Like comforting a friend.
 
 
 
 

The step from Scott coming in in the middle of the night to offer comfort to all out sharing a bed him was rather disconcerting for Warren.

Scott was huddled under three blankets and Warren's comforter, and yet he was still shivering. He slept on his side of the bed, not touching Warren. It was rather like sleeping with one's brother.

Of course, now that Scott was in bed with him, Warren couldn't sleep. But he didn't mind. He dreaded the nightmares. And the only thing that ever seemed to make them go away was Scott.

Having someone sleep in his bed, with no prospect or even a desire for sex was very odd to Warren. But having Scott on the other side, away from him, made Warren feel alone anyways. He wanted warmth, human contact. He wanted Scott's comfort. He might be able to sleep then.

Warren rolled over against Scott's shivering form, and drew his arms around the dark-haired man. Scott stiffened, surprised, but relaxed, letting Warren draw their bodies together. Apparently he didn't mind being Warren's make-shift teddy bear, and even rolled around to face him.

"Cold?" Warren asked, stretching out against Scott's lean, firm body, wrapping his arms around Scott and drawing a wing over him.

"Yes, thank you," Scott breathed. He felt so warm to Warren, and the fact that he was cold was so odd. But then again being a mutant was odd. Having wings sprout from your back was certainly odd.

Warren snuggled against Scott, burying his face in Scott's neck, pleased at how well he fit against him. He could definitely get used to sleeping beside this warm, comforting man. Very used to it. Learn to need it even.

"Nice to have a friend," Scott mumbled absently, half-asleep.

"Yes, it's very nice to have a friend, Scott," Warren whispered, as Scott drifted off, snoring ever so lightly.

Of course, falling in love with said friend could complicate matters.
 
 
 
 
 
 

"Well, this will be your classroom."

Warren looked around, approving of his surroundings. His room was large, filled with glass windows, and very classic looking. He liked rooms that left you room to breathe and to spread your wings. Literally.

"Not bad, Scott. So who's my first class?" Warren asked, placing his books and the curriculum he had been writing on his large oak desk.

"The older kids. Jubilee, Kitty, Fred, St. John, Bobby, Dominic, and Rogue," Scott answered dumping the box of stuff Warren needed on his desk. "You'll be teaching them French first, business last. The Professor said it'd be better for you to deal with the older kids, so you'll only have to worry about them this term, that way you have time for training in the Danger Room with us."

"Rogue?" Warren asked, noting the code name entered into the list of real names. Well, assuming Jubilation Lee was a real name, which Warren had severe doubts about.

"She's refused to give a real name. Keep an eye on her. She has the ability to absorb people's powers and personalities at a touch. Uncontrollable. Sometimes the kids will get rough, and if they touch her..." Scott shrugged. Warren could fill in the blanks.

"Damn. And I thought I had it rough," Warren said with sympathy. He didn't think he'd have been able to cope with the past month if it hadn't been for Scott's willingness to offer him affection when he needed it. It had been tentative and rare at first, but lately, Scott had even taken to sleeping with him constantly, to help with the nightmares he had often. Hugs and caresses were freely given, but only in private. But Warren took no offense, because Scott was a very private man.

Of course, Scott's indecision about Jean, and Jean's indecision about Scott was driving him nuts. Despite Warren's talk with Scott, neither one of them wanted to take responsibility to work out their problems, so they were stuck with the status quo, which was quickly deteriorating. Scott had decided to move out to his own room, even though he spent most of the nights holding Warren. While Warren enjoyed having Scott to himself, he wanted there to be a sense of finality between Scott and Jean. He wanted to press Scott, to question him. To ask him, maybe, possibly, if one of the reasons Scott found it so easy to share a bed with him, a gay man, was because...if maybe he might...

It was hard to nail Scott. Scott was not affectionate by nature, except to Jean in the past, so how quickly their comfort level of
hugs and being held had developed led Warren to believe maybe that there was hope for some sort of romance. Of course, Scott could just think of him as a brother, another proxy for his long-lost and much- yearned-for Alex Summers. Nothing past cuddling and snuggling had ever progressed in the bed they shared. But there reasons for that, as well. Warren wasn't ready to handle sex, even if it was with a man. And Scott might not be interested. Did Scott care for him like a brother? Or as a potential lover? Warren wanted to know, wanted to peg Scott for what he really was, but he couldn't just come out and
ask. He might scare Scott off, and that was the last thing Warren wanted. He'd rather Jean and Scott get married and have children than potentially lose the only real, true friend he ever had.

"-and she seems to have a crush on Logan. Christ, does every woman in this place have a thing for him? I think even Ororo likes him, for crying out loud," Scott was saying when Warren tuned back in.

"He has some sort of animal magnetism to match his powers, I'd wager. Attracts the women, but puts men off. Even Professor Xavier, if you noticed," Warren noted. Logan was attractive, but something about him just made Warren dislike him. And just about every other man who met him.

"Lucky bastard," Scott sighed.

Warren stiffened. "But if you had that sort of animal magnetism, then I wouldn't like you."

"A point. Aw, he can keep his fucking animal magnetism," Scott groused, obviously in a foul mood this morning. No doubt to do with him running into Jean and Logan at breakfast. Together. As always.

"That's pretty much what it amounts to. 'Fucking animal magnetism'," Warren quipped.

Scott snickered and Warren pulled out a pair of glasses and put them on. They were delicate and gold-rimmed, and suited his face.

"What's with the four eyes, War?" Scott asked.

"Thought they made me look more intelligent. Now that I'm a teacher and all, I have to act the part, see," Warren smiled. Between Scott and therapy with the Professor, he'd come a long way.

Scott snickered and at that point, students came pouring in. Scott got off Warren's desk, taking on his usual stern look. Various youths in their late teens took seats, and after one look at Warren, all the girls started fighting over the front row.

"They didn't fight over the front desk with me," Scott commented wryly, watching Jubilee, Kitty, and Rogue fight over the same seat, the one directly in front of Warren's desk.

Warren grinned, looking over at Scott. Scott was gorgeous. Dark brown hair, and a face chiseled to classic masculine beauty. A pretty boy without loss of masculinity, unlike Warren. He was of average height, but his body looked sculpted by Michelangelo, full of lines and curves and toned muscles that Warren could only admire. Warren, while stronger than most humans, had very little visible muscle tone, tending towards the slender, "angel" look. How could these girls not fight over the front seat of Scott's class?

And then Warren noted the imposing look on Scott's face. He was like stone, and wouldn't budge an inch. He didn't look like the type of man who would tolerate girls and their ridiculous infatuations.

Warren smiled, noting that the dark-haired Chinese girl, Jubilee no doubt, had won. "That's because I don't look at them like I'm considering which one of them I'm going to feed piece by piece to Sabretooth," Warren whispered.

"See, and you say you haven't gotten any better," Scott smirked.

An overweight youth with sandy hair came in, rubbing absently at his flushed face. He took a seat in the back, looked over at Warren and dropped his Twinkie on the ground doing a double take. Next was a burly-looking young man, who had more hair on his body than Wolverine. And then two teenage gods walked in the door, making Warren's eyebrows rise.

One was almost as tall as Scott, filling in very nicely in the muscle department, and who would probably grow more. He had dark blonde- brown hair, and sparkling blue eyes set in a beautiful face. Beside him was a smaller, slender youth with an almost feminine face and blond hair. He looked definitively sly to Warren, with a certain undeniable smirk on his pretty face. The pair of them were drop-dead gorgeous, and were leaning close to each other, whispering fervently.  Their whispering ceased and they stared at Warren as they picked their seat in the middle row.

Rogue and Kitty reluctantly sat to either side of Jubilee, all three with identical looks of infatuation. Warren sighed inwardly, but
offered a smile to the whole class. A month ago, these three looking at him like this would have caused him to tear off in fear, but now it was easily ignored.

"Good morning, class. I'm sure you've seen him around, but I would like to officially introduce you to Angel, the newest addition to the X-Men. In class you will refer to him as Mr. Worthington, and the same rules for disobedience or misbehavior, St. John, apply to him as with any other teacher. He will be teaching you both French and Business, so listen up. And don't worry about him punishing you. I'll deal with it, personally," Scott said sternly, causing Warren to look at him. Scott was protecting him. How cute.

It seemed to have the desired effect, because all the students looked properly chagrined at the idea of Mr. Summers reading them the riot act. Scott nodded to Warren and mouthed the words "good luck" and headed out the door, leaving Warren facing a group of teenagers.

//Oh joy,// he thought.

"So...can we see those wings of yours, Mr. Worthington?" one of the teenage gods asked him, the same cool smirk on his face. He reminded Warren of how he used to act, long ago, before Callisto.

Warren spread his wings, which he had folded behind his back. The class gasped at their size and beauty, and even the arrogant blond looked suitably impressed. He leaned over and whispered something to the other teenage god, who just grinned, revealing dimples.

"Well, I'd like to get to know all of you first. This will be the French class, which is slightly more personal than the Business
course. After all, it is the language of love." The girls all giggled and blushed. Warren cleared his throat, wishing they would stop doing that.

"Well my name is Warren Worthington III. My father is Mr. Worthington, so call me Warren, no matter what Scooter says," Warren grinned, noting the class busted up at his reference to Scott as "Scooter". The sly blond's eyes in particular twinkled at that.

"So tell me what your names and your powers are, going around the room. Let's start with you, young lady," Warren said, pointing to slim girl with shoulder-length brown hair. He found referring to a girl only three or four years his junior as "young lady" amusing.

"Kitty. Kitty Pryde, sir. I can phase through solid objects...become intangible, like a ghost," the girl blushed and giggled and would no doubt gloat later to her friends about being the first he called on.

Warren nodded and motioned for them to continue naming themselves. The girl who had won the prized seat grinned. "Jubilation Lee, though my friends call me Jubilee. I can create small plasma bursts, kinda like fireworks, and they're real pretty like, too. I like to-"

"That'll do, Jubilee. Next?" Warren interrupted.

"Rogue. I absorb the powers and personalities of anyone I touch with my skin," the brown-haired girl with a white streak replied. She didn't seem too thrilled by it, either.

Warren nodded, giving her a look of sympathy. The next one was one of the teenage gods.

"My name's Bobby Drake, and I can create and control ice," the taller boy with the incredible blue eyes and heart-breaking smile said.

Warren turned to the second teenage god. "St. John Allerdyce. I can do this," he smirked, pulling out a lighter and shaping the fire to look like Warren himself, to size and everything. Warren was duly impressed by the boy's power. He couldn't create, but he could manipulate, and apparently increase. But Warren knew something about arrogant teenagers and showing off.

"Pyrokinetics. Lovely. Two demerits for disobeying me, by displaying your power, rather than telling, and for risking a fire that could burn down this classroom. Any other tricks like that, Mr. Allerdyce, and I'll give you detention. With Mr. Summers," Warren smirked. St. John looked startled, not expecting the beautiful new teacher to be strict.

"Next?" Warren asked blithely, noting how St. John and Bobby instantly conferred quietly on this.

"Fred Dukes, sir. I, um, well, I'm kinda strong and my...fat...makes me pretty invulnerable to everything," Fred said with a blush, and Warren didn't miss the cruel smirk on the burly boy's face. No doubt Fred was invulnerable to everything but his classmate's jibes about his weight.

"What a useful power, Fred. To be invulnerable. I envy you," Warren said smoothly, which caused a surprised and happy smile to spread across Fred's features.

"And you, last but not least?" he asked, turning to the last student.

"Dominic Petros. I can make the earth move, and shake, and create landslides, avalanches, and tremors, and such-like," said the burly young man in the back.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you all. I'll suppose I'll start by asking if any of you know any French. Any of you know even a little?" Warren asked.

St. John spoke up, his smirk starting to wear on Warren's nerves. Something needed to take the blond youth's ego down a notch or two. The constant reminder of Warren's selfish and arrogant teenage years was not improving his temper.

"I can understand French, but I only speak a little. So I don't think I need to do as much work as the others," he said blithely. Bobby's eyes widened and he grinned at St. John's attempt to get out of work.

"Really now? So let's try this out, then," Warren said, narrowing his eyes. St. John was very sly. Scott was right. Not a bad kid, just stuck on himself. And showing off. For who? Warren's eyes were inevitably drawn to Bobby, wondering, but no, that was just his own personal feelings, he really should stop looking at everyone and wondering if they're gay, or have gay tendencies, too. That was his problem with Scott. He needed to stop imagining things.

~"Go... for... it..."~ St. John said haltingly. Well, he did know a little French.

Warren smiled. ~"Do you understand what I'm saying?"~ Warren said quickly, as fluent in French as any native.

"Oui," St. John replied.

~"Do you like football?"~ Warren asked, impressed. Maybe St. John wasn't showing off this time.

"Oui."

~"Do you like Hot Topic?"~

"Oui."

~"Do you like taking advanced mathematics class with Cyclops?"~ Warren asked, trying out something more advanced.

"Oui."

//Somehow I doubt he enjoys math with Scott.// Warren mused, positive he had caught St. John now. ~"Do you like dancing around in nothing but socks and a lamp shape on your head?"~

"Oui."

It was definitely fishy. Warren would get him now. ~"Do you have hot, wild, freaky sex with Bobby Drake on a constant basis, with no end in sight?"~

"Oui."

Oh, Warren had him now. ~"And you and Bobby are going exclusive, and have every intention of retiring to San Francisco to live the life as a couple together for the rest of your lives?"~

"Oui."

Warren couldn't help himself, he had to laugh. And try not to think of the two teenaged gods having hot, wild, freaky sex, which was admittedly an interesting mental portrait, and one he'd treasure later on. The class looked at him in confusion. Except for St. John, who was grinning ear to ear.

"Somehow, Mr. Allerdyce, I think you need to take this class and study as hard as everyone else. I won't needlessly embarrass you, but I assure you that you just admitted to some pretty scandalous things," Warren chuckled, and ordered them to open their French books.

The class was actually fun for Warren, and he had to admit, he enjoyed teaching both classes to the teenagers. They were interesting in their own ways, even the girls. Business could have easily lost the the entire class, but Warren used a sense of humor, and his own strong experience to keep it interesting. The class paid attention, even St. John, who would offer smart-ass comments on a regular basis. Despite the smirk, Warren found himself liking St. John. You just couldn't be annoyed with him for long. The class liked Warren, finally having found that rare and treasured teacher who would let a student speak their mind, but didn't take any bullshit.

So Warren gratefully sank into his chair when both classes were over, pleased that it went well. The students filed out, waving good-bye to him. He was almost working his way past the girl's silly infatuation with his looks, and considered that progress. At least they weren't air-headed. If they were air-headed, he'd never work past it.

Warren went to lift his books, knowing he now had an intense combat training session with both Cyclops and Wolverine ahead of him. A shadow fell over him, and Warren looked up into St. John's grinning face. Bobby stood just behind him, smiling.

"By the way, Mr. Worthington," St. John said slyly, emphasizing Warren's position on purpose, "were those questions something a teacher should ask his underage students?"

Warren raised an eyebrow. "Of course," he said, wondering if St. John was trying to bait him somehow.

"Oh, okay. Just checking. You won't tell anyone about my and Bobby's little secret, will you? I couldn't bear my fellow classmates to think I was exclusively gay with him. It would ruin our retirement to San Francisco," St. John asked smugly.

Warren's eyes widened. So St. John had understood him. "Your secret's safe with me," he grinned. St. John and Bobby both flashed him an impish grin and left the classroom, leaving Warren with very inappropriate mental imagery.

Warren wondered idly if St. John was serious or not.
 
 
 
 

Outside the mansion grounds...
 
 

The purple-haired woman known only as Psylocke smiled grimly, packing her notes away. She had quite a bit of information about the mansion now, thanks to her telepathic invisibility.

She headed back a mile away, to where Domino, and the rest of strike team awaited her. Domino was waiting calmly by the stealth plane they were using. The pale assassin offered the violet-haired telepath a feral smile.

Speaking of feral...

A low growl, and a nasty gleam of yellow cat eyes caught Psylocke's attention for a moment, but she ignored Feral, who was swishing her tail anxiously.

"Where's the rest of the team?" Psylocke asked. She knew better than to fuck around with Domino's head.

"Scouting. What do you have?"

"No good to attack the mansion. You wouldn't believe the amount of alphas they got in there, Dom. That Professor alone gives me the creeps. We're going to have to wait until the mark comes out," Psylocke answered.

"The boss wants him dead, but I think we could make more money if we sold him to a private owner. You've seen what a beauty he is. Unless Callisto fucked him up when she was having her fun with him," Domino said calmly.

Psylocke shrugged. "No, he's still quite a prize. Fetch a damn high price. The problem is now that he has friends..." she sighed.

"I know. So we zero them. No big deal. Money's worth it," Domino shrugged. "And if it doesn't work out, we'll just kill the little
angel. No skin off our backs either way."

Psylocke knew better than to argue with Domino. Arguing with Domino was always a Bad Idea. She just nodded her head. Smile and nod and you'll be paid well, that was the drill.

But she couldn't shake the nasty feeling that they were over-looking something.