We Can Explain...
folder
X-Men - Animated Series (all) › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
42
Views:
3,122
Reviews:
23
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
X-Men - Animated Series (all) › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
42
Views:
3,122
Reviews:
23
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own X-Men Evolution, or any of the characters from it. I make no money from from the writing of this story.
17
We Can Explain...Chapter Seventeen (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply
A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE (tm), Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta...Computers are tools of evil. I'm sure of it now. InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink and Dracena are spangley for archiving/hosting. :) ProPhile is around here somewhere, I'm sure...probably writing 100 words. ;) Readers/Reviewers: I may miss a day soon while Frankenputer is on life support...cross your fingers the evil IT monster doesn't destroy it... And the Killer Kitties (tm) are hiding...I'm worried. ;)
Emma drew in a long, burning breath she had not been aware she needed until her lungs ached with the lack of oxygen. She had been so invested in skipping from mind to mind, weaving a coherent story from the threads of several fragments that she had neglected comfort for a time. Her eyes fluttered open and she was aware that she looked very fragile. All of intent gazes on her made her feel as if she had been putting on a show for their benefit and she frowned. "Next?"
Jean leaned forward. "Emma, you might need to rest... It's been an hour." The red head felt sympathy pain for the older, more experienced telepath. Emma Frost might be one of the strongest psychics in the world, Jean thought, but she still has her limits. She did not care if Emma heard that.
The blonde socialite smiled tightly. "An hour? Is that all? Well, we still have time. It's not yet midnight. Now please, silence."
"Does she really need silence, yo?" Todd muttered, closing his eyes as he felt appropriate. Part of him was put into mind of the old variety shows his mother used to watch where the host would bring out a supposed psychic who would demand absolute silence and then go into a spiel...
"Todd," Emma cut across his thoughts sharply. "You're thinking of Johnny Carson. Stop it."1 It was not that she could not weed through those surface thoughts but she was already feeling the strain and wanted to make this as easy as possible. "Just a little while more, please." She waited until she felt the last shield slip and she began again.
"Stop scratching at it!" Jean ordered sharply, her own fingers rubbing at the small knot on the back of her neck. "You're making it bleed."
Scott pulled his fingers away from the back of his thigh and sighed at the small streak of blood across his fingertips. "It's driving me nuts...It doesn't even itch anymore but I know that it's there." He paused on the doorstep of the mansion and reached for Jean's wrist, pulling her scratching fingers away from her own mystery spot. "Physician, heal thyself."2
"It's hot," she complained, the door swinging open at her thought. "Unlocked. That's good. That means someone must be home."
"Or they were robbed," Scott muttered, entering the darkened foyer. "Hello? Anyone in here?" The entire first floor, as far as he could see, was dark. Tinged by his lenses, the place looked like it was blood stained. "Logan?"
"He went with the Professor, remember?" she murmured, sending tendrils of seeking into the ether around them. "I can't find anyone...wait..." She concentrated a little harder, a twinge behind her eyes telling her to pace herself. "No...it was nothing, I guess. Maybe just skimming your signals or something."
He frowned. It was not like Jean to be so spotty with her abilities, even if telepathy and empathy were not her strongest powers. He let the observation remain inward, though, as he progressed further into the dwelling. "You take upstairs, I'll take down. We'll meet in the kitchen to take the sublevels."
"Um, Scott?" She stood in the doorway, her expression quizzical.
"Okay, I'll take upstairs," he sighed.
"Okay, but I was just going to say we can check security feeds for the sublevels. They show everything except Jono's room. And I know there's no one else here... I would've felt them." She shrugged. "I guess even Beast has to get out now and again."
He frowned more deeply. "There's always someone here. I've been here almost half my life and there's never been a time where there hasn't been at least one person on the grounds somewhere." Shaking his head, he sighed. "Something's not right..."
Jean nearly jumped as the phone in the study to her left rang. Her hand moving to cover her heart in a universal gesture of surprise, she managed a smile. "I'll get it. It's probably Kitty, wanting a ride."
Scott trailed her into the study, the Professor's private line ringing loudly. Jean picked up the phone and issued her standard greeting ('Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters, Jean Grey speaking...') as he wandered towards the bookshelf aimlessly. It was not right, he knew, that not even Beast was at home. _Someone is always here, _ he repeated to himself. _The guard systems weren't even activated... Something's not right. _ "Jean," he murmured, "I'm going to check Storm's greenhouse. I'll be right back." She nodded as she responded in the affirmative to whoever was on the other end of the line. He took that for acknowledgement of his words as well and headed out the door. The mansion was dead quiet, the faint hiss of the air conditioner freakishly loud in the marble floored foyer. He did not like it a bit. It made him feel like he was in a horror movie, waiting for the boogey man to jump out from behind the ficus. Jean's voice followed him to the side hall where it became muffled and drowned in the thick carpet that led to the old service entrance. Scott paused and stuck his head in the laundry room, halfway prepared for Lance and Amara in flagrante delicto again, but was more relieved than not to find it empty. The old library near the back door, now the Professor's private office, stood open. _Now that's just weird, _ Scott mused. The Professor kept this office locked at all times, unlike the downstairs study where he met with prospective and current students and parents, and the upstairs office, which served as a meeting place when the school board made it's unscheduled visits to check curriculum and the rest of the laundry list of items they sought to discredit the Institute with. This downstairs study was dark, even with the curtains tied back. It was done entirely in dark woods and leather, the only sign the owner of this space was not quite like everyone else being the wide variety of books on psychic phenomena, ranging from the most dreadful penny dreadful to the most complex text book on the subject, lining the shelves, and a model of Cerebro, built by Forge, adorning the corner of the massive desk against the far wall. Scott edged into the study almost reverently, the air feeling close around him. He could almost feel the Professor's eyes boring into the back of his neck as he moved slowly into the middle of the room, reluctantly standing on the Oriental rug that most likely cost more than his future college education. "Professor? Hello?" he called into the empty room, even though he could see every corner and highly doubted the Professor was hiding under his desk.
"We have to go to New Jersey," Jean announced, striding into the room without preamble.
Scott swore fluently as he spun to face her, his heart hammering in his chest. "Damn it, Jeanie! Warn a guy, would you?"
She arched an auburn brow and smirked faintly. "I was calling you all down the hall...how'd you get in here? Wasn't it locked?"
"No, the door was wide open... New Jersey?" he asked belatedly, gladly leaving the room to stand with her in the doorway. "Why?"
"That was Remy, calling collect..." She rubbed her brow and sighed. "He said something about a bus and Amara and...I really couldn't make it all out and the line cut off before I could get much more than the address from him." She produced a piece of the Professor's Stationary from her pocket. "He said they were at this truck stop, where the bus let them off..."
Scott sighed. "Well, at least we know where they are. Are Kurt and Kitty with them?"
"He didn't say. It's just him, Jubilee, Lance and Amara." Jean tucked the paper back in her pocket. "I looked the address up already and got directions," she added, patting her hip pocket to indicate where she had put them. "I told them to wait there and we'd get there as soon as we could."
"I guess that's it then...we're going to BFE to pick 'em up..." He frowned and looked back into the room. "Should we leave a note?"
"Probably," she shrugged. "Go bring the car around and I'll leave one on the bulletin board in the kitchen." Her fingers stole up to scratch her neck again and she winced. "And a note for Beast, while I'm at it."
Emma blinked, her connection abruptly severed. The cause for the interruption was clearly visible in the doorway. "Charles," she sighed. "Always the worst timing."
"Good night, everyone," he intoned sternly. "Emma, a word, please..."
1 Former Tonight Show host...c'mon...you know who I mean... :)
2 It's Bible Quote timeew Tew Testament...cookies if you know the book and chapter and verse. ;) (said the recovering Catholic, lol...)
Disclaimers Apply
A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE (tm), Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta...Computers are tools of evil. I'm sure of it now. InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink and Dracena are spangley for archiving/hosting. :) ProPhile is around here somewhere, I'm sure...probably writing 100 words. ;) Readers/Reviewers: I may miss a day soon while Frankenputer is on life support...cross your fingers the evil IT monster doesn't destroy it... And the Killer Kitties (tm) are hiding...I'm worried. ;)
Emma drew in a long, burning breath she had not been aware she needed until her lungs ached with the lack of oxygen. She had been so invested in skipping from mind to mind, weaving a coherent story from the threads of several fragments that she had neglected comfort for a time. Her eyes fluttered open and she was aware that she looked very fragile. All of intent gazes on her made her feel as if she had been putting on a show for their benefit and she frowned. "Next?"
Jean leaned forward. "Emma, you might need to rest... It's been an hour." The red head felt sympathy pain for the older, more experienced telepath. Emma Frost might be one of the strongest psychics in the world, Jean thought, but she still has her limits. She did not care if Emma heard that.
The blonde socialite smiled tightly. "An hour? Is that all? Well, we still have time. It's not yet midnight. Now please, silence."
"Does she really need silence, yo?" Todd muttered, closing his eyes as he felt appropriate. Part of him was put into mind of the old variety shows his mother used to watch where the host would bring out a supposed psychic who would demand absolute silence and then go into a spiel...
"Todd," Emma cut across his thoughts sharply. "You're thinking of Johnny Carson. Stop it."1 It was not that she could not weed through those surface thoughts but she was already feeling the strain and wanted to make this as easy as possible. "Just a little while more, please." She waited until she felt the last shield slip and she began again.
"Stop scratching at it!" Jean ordered sharply, her own fingers rubbing at the small knot on the back of her neck. "You're making it bleed."
Scott pulled his fingers away from the back of his thigh and sighed at the small streak of blood across his fingertips. "It's driving me nuts...It doesn't even itch anymore but I know that it's there." He paused on the doorstep of the mansion and reached for Jean's wrist, pulling her scratching fingers away from her own mystery spot. "Physician, heal thyself."2
"It's hot," she complained, the door swinging open at her thought. "Unlocked. That's good. That means someone must be home."
"Or they were robbed," Scott muttered, entering the darkened foyer. "Hello? Anyone in here?" The entire first floor, as far as he could see, was dark. Tinged by his lenses, the place looked like it was blood stained. "Logan?"
"He went with the Professor, remember?" she murmured, sending tendrils of seeking into the ether around them. "I can't find anyone...wait..." She concentrated a little harder, a twinge behind her eyes telling her to pace herself. "No...it was nothing, I guess. Maybe just skimming your signals or something."
He frowned. It was not like Jean to be so spotty with her abilities, even if telepathy and empathy were not her strongest powers. He let the observation remain inward, though, as he progressed further into the dwelling. "You take upstairs, I'll take down. We'll meet in the kitchen to take the sublevels."
"Um, Scott?" She stood in the doorway, her expression quizzical.
"Okay, I'll take upstairs," he sighed.
"Okay, but I was just going to say we can check security feeds for the sublevels. They show everything except Jono's room. And I know there's no one else here... I would've felt them." She shrugged. "I guess even Beast has to get out now and again."
He frowned more deeply. "There's always someone here. I've been here almost half my life and there's never been a time where there hasn't been at least one person on the grounds somewhere." Shaking his head, he sighed. "Something's not right..."
Jean nearly jumped as the phone in the study to her left rang. Her hand moving to cover her heart in a universal gesture of surprise, she managed a smile. "I'll get it. It's probably Kitty, wanting a ride."
Scott trailed her into the study, the Professor's private line ringing loudly. Jean picked up the phone and issued her standard greeting ('Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters, Jean Grey speaking...') as he wandered towards the bookshelf aimlessly. It was not right, he knew, that not even Beast was at home. _Someone is always here, _ he repeated to himself. _The guard systems weren't even activated... Something's not right. _ "Jean," he murmured, "I'm going to check Storm's greenhouse. I'll be right back." She nodded as she responded in the affirmative to whoever was on the other end of the line. He took that for acknowledgement of his words as well and headed out the door. The mansion was dead quiet, the faint hiss of the air conditioner freakishly loud in the marble floored foyer. He did not like it a bit. It made him feel like he was in a horror movie, waiting for the boogey man to jump out from behind the ficus. Jean's voice followed him to the side hall where it became muffled and drowned in the thick carpet that led to the old service entrance. Scott paused and stuck his head in the laundry room, halfway prepared for Lance and Amara in flagrante delicto again, but was more relieved than not to find it empty. The old library near the back door, now the Professor's private office, stood open. _Now that's just weird, _ Scott mused. The Professor kept this office locked at all times, unlike the downstairs study where he met with prospective and current students and parents, and the upstairs office, which served as a meeting place when the school board made it's unscheduled visits to check curriculum and the rest of the laundry list of items they sought to discredit the Institute with. This downstairs study was dark, even with the curtains tied back. It was done entirely in dark woods and leather, the only sign the owner of this space was not quite like everyone else being the wide variety of books on psychic phenomena, ranging from the most dreadful penny dreadful to the most complex text book on the subject, lining the shelves, and a model of Cerebro, built by Forge, adorning the corner of the massive desk against the far wall. Scott edged into the study almost reverently, the air feeling close around him. He could almost feel the Professor's eyes boring into the back of his neck as he moved slowly into the middle of the room, reluctantly standing on the Oriental rug that most likely cost more than his future college education. "Professor? Hello?" he called into the empty room, even though he could see every corner and highly doubted the Professor was hiding under his desk.
"We have to go to New Jersey," Jean announced, striding into the room without preamble.
Scott swore fluently as he spun to face her, his heart hammering in his chest. "Damn it, Jeanie! Warn a guy, would you?"
She arched an auburn brow and smirked faintly. "I was calling you all down the hall...how'd you get in here? Wasn't it locked?"
"No, the door was wide open... New Jersey?" he asked belatedly, gladly leaving the room to stand with her in the doorway. "Why?"
"That was Remy, calling collect..." She rubbed her brow and sighed. "He said something about a bus and Amara and...I really couldn't make it all out and the line cut off before I could get much more than the address from him." She produced a piece of the Professor's Stationary from her pocket. "He said they were at this truck stop, where the bus let them off..."
Scott sighed. "Well, at least we know where they are. Are Kurt and Kitty with them?"
"He didn't say. It's just him, Jubilee, Lance and Amara." Jean tucked the paper back in her pocket. "I looked the address up already and got directions," she added, patting her hip pocket to indicate where she had put them. "I told them to wait there and we'd get there as soon as we could."
"I guess that's it then...we're going to BFE to pick 'em up..." He frowned and looked back into the room. "Should we leave a note?"
"Probably," she shrugged. "Go bring the car around and I'll leave one on the bulletin board in the kitchen." Her fingers stole up to scratch her neck again and she winced. "And a note for Beast, while I'm at it."
Emma blinked, her connection abruptly severed. The cause for the interruption was clearly visible in the doorway. "Charles," she sighed. "Always the worst timing."
"Good night, everyone," he intoned sternly. "Emma, a word, please..."
1 Former Tonight Show host...c'mon...you know who I mean... :)
2 It's Bible Quote timeew Tew Testament...cookies if you know the book and chapter and verse. ;) (said the recovering Catholic, lol...)