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CHAPTER 16: UNEXPECTED REASONING

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Scott ground his teeth in frustration. The story of there being potential dangers in New Orleans and need of an extra X-man didn't cut it for him. It was an excuse to get rid of him, he was sure of it. But what had he done wrong? What was so terrible that he had to spend the next several weeks under Storm's command? He had tried to drag the answer out of Xavier, but to no avail. He could do nothing but pack his bags and prepare to leave. Not that the leaving itself was something he minded.

Emma had seemed particularly moody in the last several days. Even though her temper didn't usually bother him, he was getting tired of not knowing what she was thinking. But then again, he hadn't been very sociable towards her either. Watching Jean walk out the door had taken away any pleasure he had in Emma's company.

He was filled with a conflicting mix of emotions. He and Jean had almost always known where they stood since they were teenagers. The thing that had always bothered him, was that when he returned, Jean wouldn’t use her telepathy. She wanted him to tell her what was wrong, but he couldn’t put it into words. It was as though Apocalypse had found a darkness inside of him that he hadn’t known existed, and exploited it. He couldn’t describe it to anyone without cringing inside. Not even his wife.

He had started hanging out with Emma for various reasons. The first, was that she never asked about his problems. The second was that Emma was...well, Emma. The way she dressed, walked, and talked were all designed to attract him and men like him. All men, really. He might never have found anything deep or meaningful in his discussions with her, but it was a nice distraction.

But there was something he had not counted on. Not once had he thought Jean might leave him. To him, Jean had been like the institute itself: always there, always reliable. Her presence was as certain as dawn the next day. Until now. He wanted her back. Because he wanted her, or because he wanted normalcy, he did not know; he knew only that he wanted her back. But what would he say? “Jean, I miss you doing my laundry and giving me the cold shoulder when I go to see Emma. Would you please come back to me.”?

Yeah, right.

He wanted time to sort it out in his head. Maybe speak with her, so she could help him sort it out. Instead, he was getting shipped off to New Orleans.

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In one week and five days, she would be shipped off back to Australia. Teri tried not to think about it as she undressed, preparing to don her nightgown. Unfortunately, it wasn’t working as planned.

She was distracted. She hanged her jacket on the doorknob, but it fell off. She didn’t bother to pick it up. She unclipped all six earings and placed them in the wrong box. She removed her clothes and threw them at the laundry basket, but missed. And in the end, she put her nightgown on backwards.

Lucas Bishop was a mutant. It was a newly learned fact that completely baffled her. She knew it shouldn’t make any difference what he was, as long as it wasn’t illegal; but the thought still nagged at her brain. She found it both frightening and intriguing.

To her, mutants were things you heard and read about that never happened to you. She had thought on occasion, that there might be mutants who led normal lives undetected. She had never thought that she might know one. Or be attracted to one.

She shook her head--she couldn’t allow herself to think that way. Lucas was a partner, and a friend. Making a relationship more than that, would only complicate the situation and make the other person harder to work with. But lying also made partners harder to work with. And Bishop had certainly waited a while to tell her what he was....so what other secrets was he hiding?

She picked up her cell phone and began to dial a number. She hesitated over the final buttons, wondering if she was doing the right thing. If she made the call, would she be breaking Lucas’ trust? Or just playing it safe? She stamped her foot in frustration, and punched in the final digits. It was best to do this quickly, before any other doubts plagued her.

“Headquarters.”

“Hey, Gavin, this is Baltimore.”

“H’lo, Teri.”

“Um, c’n yeh get me a file on Lucas Bishop?”

“Bishop? That tall, dark fella that was nosing in on the LeBeau case?”

“And helped me break the mafia ring, yah.”

“Sure, what’ya want it for?”

“Oh...yeh know me--curiouser than a kitten.”

“I’ll see what I can do, Teri.”

“Thanks, mate. I’ll check in with yeh later when I’m off vacation.”

They said their good-byes and set down the phones. But on her end, Teri wondered. Was Lucas Bishop for real?

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The tension Jean Grey-Summers was feeling was very real. After half an hour of crying, she had discovered that feeling sorry for oneself really didn’t do one any good. So, she had picked herself up off the couch and followed her nose to the kitchen. But there was a catch: Remy was the chef.

“Could y’ pass me dat plate of green peppers, chere?”

Jean froze, startled. She had walked in behind him, and the padding of her feet had probably given her away. Picking up the plate he requested, she realized that he still might not know it was her. He didn’t have Wolverine’s sense of smell, so he probably guessed from the sound of her footsteps that Ororo or Rogue had come in to help him. She walked forward with the plate. If she was lucky, she could hand it to him before he turned around and recognized her. It would allow her to avoid a very awkward confrontation.

No such luck. He turned to take the plate from her hand, and saw her. He paused, but quickly regained his composure, proceeding to stir the chopped up pepper in the pot.

"...I...May I explain?"

"S'long as Remy c'n keep cookin' and y'don't move."

Jean nodded. Once they began, any gesture could be misinterpreted. She sat down in a chair and stared at the floor.

"Um, may I open a telepathic link--"

"Non. Y'gonna talk t'rough dis like ev'ryone else 'round here."

Jean winced. Showing him what she thought would be easier, but she understood that he didn't want to feel any emotions that might not be his own.

“I’m sorry I...” she searched for a word. “...hurt you. I’ve been putting up a tough front for Xavier and the students, but it’s fake. I’ve been pretty messed up inside lately, and holding it in has only made it worse. I was looking for some sort of comfort...and I went about it the wrong way. I tried to use my powers to impose my will on you, and I’m sorry. It’s the very thing I’ve been taught not to do from the beginning, and it’s the very thing I did.”

His back remained turned to her, stirring peppers, meat, and spices. There was no indication that he had heard her.

“I...I...I’m sorry. Do you forgive me?”

The stirring stopped, and the cajun lifted his head a little. His tone was dream-like and distant.

“Do y’know how strange it is to hear somet’in like dat from someone like you?”

Jean frowned. “I don’t quite get what you’re saying.”

He turned a little, still not quite facing her.

“Remember what Remy was like when he first came t’Xaviers, petite?”

“You...tried to kiss me.”†

“Exac’ly. In de beginin’, always t’ought dat if anyone was gonna be breakin’ some hearts or messin’ wit’ relationships ‘round here, it would be Gambit. Never s’spected dat you would turn de tables on me. I’m sorry ‘bout you an’ Scott, cherie, but don’t do dis again.”

“I won’t.”

He met her gaze. His eyes were serious, but his lips smirked a little, as though thinking of a private joke.

“Well, y' went f'moi stead' of Bish or Neal, so I gotta admit dat y'got good taste. I'll let y'go, chere, but on condition."

Jean raised her eyes in questioning.

"Y'gotta 'round everyone up. Dinner be served, an' Remy can't eat it all by himself."

She got up from her seat and turned to go.

"An' Jeanne, one more t'ing..."

She paused.

"I tol' Rogue 'bout what y'did. So tread carefully 'round m'feme."

Jean nodded as she left, but her steps had become a touch more fearful.

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“You do realize that Remy is probably preparing dinner right now, don’t you?”

“Yeh friend’s an understanding bloke, Ororo, I don’t think he’ll mind that much if we’re a lil’ late.”

They were walking along the shore, dragging their feet in the sand. The twilight was growing darker, and Ororo worried about how they would get back.

“I wish you’d give a warning when you use your powers, not everyone can ride the ‘warp wave’ as well as you do.”

Davis shrugged.

“I figured, that if I asked, y’d say ‘no’”.

“You would have been right. I don’t want to see you in any danger.”

“I might not be what yeh’d call an ‘X-perienced X-man’, but I know when I’m well enough to use my powers.”

“Did you use them in your time away from us?”

Davis Cammeron sighed. The day so far had been like a dream. Flying and laughing with Ororo had been so wonderful he wanted it to last forever. But now his head was out of the clouds, and Ororo wanted to know about his past: where he had gone after deserting the team.

“I used them to get away from alla you.”

The wind-riders face tightened in concern, realising where the conversation was headed.

“I can’t seem to use ‘em for short distances. I tried doin’ that in Madripoor and ended up in America. I had to ask around a bit before I figured where I was. I kept encountering bunches a’ yanks that didn’t want to tell me anything. Turned out, I was in Kansas.”

“Kansas?”

“Yep. I didn’t have any money on me, so I slept on a bench in a park. I guess I musta been in a pretty nice area, since I didn’t run int’ any muggers right away. It turned out t’be a pretty well-guarded area too, since I almost got arrested for loiterin’.”

“For loitering?”

“Okay, beggin’.” His cheeks turned red. “I guess it was illegal to ask for some spare change for food when you look a bloody sight. I didn’t want to end up behind bars, so I warped outa there. I ended up directin’ myself north, and ended up in New York. I was worried that if I used my powers too much, I’d end up...well, like Heather. So I promised myself I’d lay off so I wouldn’t mutate any more than I already was. I ran into a bunch a’ dubious-lookin’ yanks. I guess they jus’ decided they didn’t like me, so they started beatin’ up on me. I almost broke my promise not to warp out when this old lady started screamin’ ‘bloody murder’ and makin’ a big scene. People started crowdin’ around, and the mugs ran fer it. Someone was nice enough to get me to a hospital, but I never got a chance to thank ‘em. Never even saw their face.”

Ororo placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. They remained that way for a while, watching the rise of the moon.

“Davis, we need to leave.”

“I know. I jus’...I just missed this is all.”

“I understand. I would like to do this again sometime, a talk between the two of us.”

“Me too....So, best be headin’ back, then?”

“Yes, lets.”

“Um...I know I can take passengers without touching them, but it would be a little nicer if, y’know, you...hung on?”

The young surfer was scratching the back of his head with his head bowed. A blush was evident on his face from his request. The weather-witch smiled.

“I would be honored.”

She gently slipped her arms around his neck as they began the journey home.

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Author’s Notes: Okay, so I didn’t switch between as many characters as I’ve been trying to, but I was trying to make the character interaction (and the chapter) longer, so I didn’t deal with as many people. We should be seeing more of Rogue, Franklin, Sage, Robo-ben, and Doom next chapter. Definitely more of Franklin if nothing else. This fic is supposed to star him, and I haven’t been doing much with his character lately. I’ll try to remedy that.

† X-men ish #1. He didn't actually kiss her; he smootched a cerebro-created construct of her instead.(afterwards, it blew up in his face) It wasn't until a few issues later that he started dating Rogue.

PS.-- Anyone still interested in joining the hit list so you can know when I update?