X-men:Bast Ch.3

“Kurt’s beatin the pants off me and Ah’m tryin’ my best,” Rogue complained. “He ain’t even usin’ his hands! He’s rubbin’ it in mah face on purpose!”

“My tail needed a stretch,” Kurt replied with a wide grin.

Rogue groaned and glanced up at Kia. “You comin’ to the trainin’ session tomorrow?”

“When is it?” Kia asked.

“ ‘Bout four,” Rogue replied. She gave a dramatic cry as she desperately tried to deflect Kurt’s next shot.

“I should,” Kia replied. “I missed my session this morning because I had to meet with some students. Scott left me a note telling me absences like that aren’t acceptable. I threw it in the fireplace.”

“Ve have all been receiving such notes, Kia,” Kurt offered. “I tink Scott…he is stressed, ja? It is not zat he is singling you out.”

“I guess,” Kia grumbled.

“Ororo’s leadin’ the exercises tomorrow. You’d pro’ly like them lots more than the ones Scott does,” Rogue added.

“Yeah, probably,” Kia agreed. “Ororo and Hank’s simulations are always interesting at least.”

“I vill be zere too, ja?” Kurt smiled. “You must come, I tink!”

“Well, now I’m obligated,” Kia laughed. “I’ll be there as long as it doesn’t take me too long to get changed and all after my last class. I’ve already missed enough this week. Having Scott lecture me is bad enough. I don’t want Charles to start too.”

Kurt grinned wildly and swung his bumper with his tail, hitting the puck. It ricocheted into the table wall once, twice, a third time, and then plopped into the goal, easily slipping past Rogue’s wide blocking attempt. Rogue cursed softly and fished the puck back out.

Bobby Drake entered the room. Bobby, codenamed Iceman, was fairly average in appearance, just slightly under average height and about as tall as Kia, with dusty brown hair and brown eyes. He was lean and well muscled, but not impressively built. Bobby was, however, quite powerful in his own right. He had the ability to vastly lower his external and internal body temperature, allowing him to change his body into an icy form that was nearly as hard as stone. He could also freeze the moisture and air molecules in the air, allowing him to form things from a jagged spike of ice for hurling at an enemy, to a sweeping ice-slide to ‘surf’ upon.

He plopped onto the couch beside Psylocke, grabbed up the remote, and changed the channel to a sleazy music video. Betsy glared at Bobby for a moment, then, with a glance at Jean, punched Bobby solidly in the side of the head. Bobby, however, was quite used to the brutal nature of Betsy’s roughhousing, and cooled his body into its icy shell just a moment before Betsy struck.

“Fuck! Bobby!” Betsy cursed, shaking the ache from her hand. Bobby snickered.

“Such language, Betsy. And I thought young Drake was our resident trouble maker,” Hank admonished as he walked into the room.

Henry ‘Hank’ P. McCoy was codenamed Beast for good reason. Though possessing tremendous intelligence, a PhD in biochemistry, and knowledge in the field of genetics and mutations equal to and in some ways surpassing Xavier’s own, Hank had quite a prominent physical mutation. He was animalistic in appearance, his enormous body wide and thick and slightly ape-like. He was covered in thick, bright blue fur, and his arms hung down nearly past his knees. He had claws at the tips of his thick fingers, though he had long ago adjusted to them and learned to use them for precise and delicate tasks such as lab work and typing. He was heavily muscled and, upon first glance, struck many as a fearsome monster. That, however, could not be further from the truth. Hank was a gentle and compassionate man, given far more to intellectual pursuits and moments of wit, cleverness, and poetry than acts of violence. Eloquent, playful, and intelligent, Hank was one of the pillars of the X-men and had served the role of friend, confidant, and problem solver more often than anyone on the team could remember. He was also a highly skilled acrobat second only to Nightcrawler, his agility and grace belying his size and strength. 

Hank was accompanied by Ororo. Both were very nicely dressed, Ororo in a calf length, slinky dancing dress of pale cream that complimented her light hair and dark coloring and clung to her curves. Her volumous hair was piled up on her hair and pinned in place, trailing down here and there to call attention to her long neck. Hank was wearing what was likely the closest Storm was letting him get to a suit on this date; black dress trousers and a rich green button up shirt. Both had been obviously custom made for him, and fit him well, almost giving the illusion that his body was simply largely built and not inhuman. His long sleeves had been rolled up slightly, a rare touch of casualness in Hank’s otherwise professional and gentlemanly appearance. Storm stood close to him, her arms twined about his.

“Aren’t you two looking fancy,” Bobby grinned. “Let me guess, Hank. You’ve won yet another award for outstanding achievements in the field of genetics, and you’re going to the ceremony.”

“Close,” Hank chuckled. “I fear my tango and samba are getting rusty, and Ororo has graciously offered to help me amend them.”

“Huh?” Bobby muttered.

“We’re going dancing, Bobby,” Storm explained.

“Yes. We’ll be the talk of the town,” Hank grinned, showing pointed canines. “The graceful Nubian princess in all her dance-floor prowess…and the dancing blue monkey.”

Kia laughed and smiled at Hank. “Just be sure not to step on her feet, hank. You’re what, 400 pounds now?”

“Please Kia, you’ll give me a complex,” Hank laughed. “And I’ve been dieting. I’m down to 395 pounds, thank you.”

“We’d better get going Hank,” Ororo suggested. “I want to dance for a few hours at least before we go get dinner.”

“We shall depart then,” Hank smiled.

“Have a good time,” Jean called from the couch.

“We will,” Ororo said, tugging slightly at Hank’s thick arm. “All of you enjoy a pleasant evening.”

“Be careful,” Kia waved.

“Bye you two,” Betsy said, still gripping her sore hand and shooting a glare Bobby’s way.

As Ororo and Hank stepped out the room, Scott appeared in the doorway, glancing around the room till his gaze fell on Jean.

Scott ‘Slim’ Summers was the leader of the X-men by virtue of his being Xavier’s first X-man. He was one of the tallest people on the team at 6’3” and, as his nickname suggested, had a lean build, straight up and down with long but muscled limbs. His hair was short and a dark brown. His Mutant power, the ability to project powerful beams of concussive force from his eyes, forced him to wear either a visor or glasses made of ruby quartz crystals to control the fearsome blasts. His face was thin and currently pinched slightly at the mouth.

“Jean, can I see you for a minute? In private?”

Jean hesitated a moment then nodded, rising and bidding the rest of the team goodnight. Betsy watched her go for a long moment before returning to the TV and flipping through channels distractedly.

When Kia turned back to Rogue and Nightcrawler, Rogue was staring at the floor, jaw clenched visibly. After a moment she forcefully slammed her bumper onto the table, making it move almost a foot across the floor. Kurt teleported out of the way just in time.

“Rogue? Vat did I do?” Kurt asked in concerned confusion.

“Ah just don’t wanna play any more!” Rogue snapped.

“Are you okay?” Kia asked.

Rogue started out the room, calling over her shoulder, “Ah’m goin’ outside.”

“Walking or flying?” Kia asked.

“Uh…walkin Ah guess. You wanna come?”

“Sure,” Kia nodded. “You want a coat?”

Rogue gave Kia a funny look.

“I’ll get us some sweaters,” Kia shrugged. “I’ll meet you by the stairs.”

“Vat was zat all about?” Kurt asked Psylocke as the two women exited. Betsy shrugged, seeming distracted.

“Maybe scoring fifty three points against her five didn’t set well with her,” Bobby suggested.

***

Kia and Rogue strode down one of the Mansion’s beautiful garden paths. Though too early for the plants and flowers to be in bloom this far in upstate New York, evergreens were prominent in this part of the gardens, tall trees and wide shrubs still green and thriving among their hibernating cousins. The memories of a beautiful summer lingered with the promise of lush, colorful months soon to come. 

Rogue wore one of Kia’s old college sweatshirts. It was gray and baggy about the bust. Kia wore a blue sweater that fell straight at her waist. Rogue was upset, the set of her face and the way her jaw worked and slight frown at the corner of her lips a clear indication of this.

“You aren’t this upset about losing that game, are you?” Kia stated more than asked.

Rogue shrugged slightly, looking out over the gardens. “Nah. Ah guess not.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Kia asked gently.

Rogue shrugged again, a hesitant, guarded motion. She pulled her shoulders up and put her arms about herself, though the evening was hardly more than chill.

“Ah feel kinda stupid.”

Kia patted her shoulder companionably. “I won’t think you’re stupid, Rogue. We’re friends. You would probably feel better if you talk about it.”

“It’s just…Ah keep seein’ couples…it was bad enough with just Jean an’ Scott. Now Hank and Ororo got together. An’ there’ve been plenty others over the years, too. An’ it’s the same way everywhere else, not just here in the Mansion. Ah guess Ah just feel like everyone’s got someone but me.”

Rogue sighed and hung her head. “Ah’m happy for Storm and Beast, Ah really am. Hank’s a great guy an’ they make a good pair. Ah just can’t help but feel jealous though. Ah feel so…so…left out. An’ so lonely.”

Kia turned Rogue to face her, stopping and looking her in the eye. A tear ran down Rogue’s cheek. Kia squeezed her shoulders firmly. “Your feelings are perfectly understandable, Rogue. Any girl that isn’t envious of a good relationship like Ororo’s is lying to herself. I wish I had something like that, too. So does Betsy, I bet.”

“But you or Betsy could have it,” Rogue sighed. “Even if Ah did find someone to be in a relationship with, Ah can’t even touch them. Ah’m never going to find someone who Ah can be close with. It’s just damn unfair.”

“Don’t worry,” Kia said gently. “I have faith we’ll figure something out for you one day. Hank is always testing new idea’s, and the Professor is working with him. With the two of them working together, surely they’ll find something, one day.”

“Ah know, Ah know,” Rogue nodded. “Ah have good friends, and Ah’m glad you’re one of them,” Rogue said slowly. She took a deep breath and gave a strained smile. “Ah’ll be okay. Ah just need to calm down. Ah…Ah’m gonna walk for a bit longer.”

“Okay,” Kia smiled. “I’m going to head back inside. I’ve got more papers to grade. But Rogue? I’m here for you. We all are.”

“Thanks, Kia,” Rogue smiled, sincerely this time. She hugged Kia and then walked farther into the gardens as Kia returned to the Mansion.

***

Just before 2 A.M., Hank and Ororo returned from their night out. The Mansion was quiet and still, with only a handful of people still awake at this late hour. They spoke in hushed voices and Ororo giggled softly at Hank’s usual wit.

Their night had been wonderful in Storm’s opinion. They had grabbed a quick meal at a nice restaurant and then gone walking through the city streets for a short while as the sun set. A few people had stared, yes, but everyone left the two of them alone and in peace. After chatting softly as they walked and let their stomachs settle, the two Mutants made their way to the dance-club they had in mind, a nice place that held a more traditional dance-floor than the rave and party-heavy clubs and bars that were so popular. Hank proved to be a wonderful dancer, the natural agility and sense of balance that seemed so odd for his large size allowing him to move with a grace and quickness that complemented her steps quite nicely. No one seemed too bothered by Hank’s unusual appearance, though people gave them a wide range to move during the especially upbeat dance numbers. Ororo matched Hank’s sweeping steps with enthusiasm, completely oblivious to the dancers around them. Ororo loved to dance, any kind of dance, and few men were able to keep pace with her as well as Hank did.

“Well, I shall be sore in the morning,” Hank said softly as they arrived at Storm’s room. “I’ve not danced like that since Prom. And I certainly didn’t have all this fur back then making me feel as if I were being incubated. I don’t see how dogs stand it.”

“Maybe if you try panting next time you’ll manage better,” Ororo said playfully.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Hank chuckled. He smiled down at her and took her hand in his. His massive blue fist was enormous around hers and could have easily crushed her slender fingers, but his touch was gentle and light. “Though I fear that may distract me from performing a proper tango.”

“We can’t have that,” Ororo smiled softly.

The pair stood motionless, watching each other. The was a strange mix of feelings between them; nervousness, uncertainty, yes, but also a depth of friendship and familiarity that stretched beyond their few months of closeness to years of relying upon one another and trusting each other with their lives. 

“Well,” Beast cleared his throat at last. He smiled at her warmly and faltered for a moment. “I should let you get your rest. I enjoyed tonight very much.”

“As did I,” Storm smiled. “Thank for the wonderful dancing. I was impressed.”

Hank puffed out his great chest and smiled wider. “I look forward to repeating the experience. Perhaps you can help me to keep in better shape. I wouldn’t want to get a gut. I’m pretty sure big blue guts are out this year. It’s bad enough I already have such atrocious belly hair.”

Ororo shook her head, brushing the thick white hair from her eyes as it swished forward. “You’re cute, Hank.”

“Cute?” Hank said, mock-wounded. “I was going for roguishly handsome. But I’m always ‘cute’. It’s the fur, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Ororo winked. “You’re a teddy-bear, as always.”

“I suppose it’s better than being revolting,” Hank chuckled. He straightened and bent to somewhat awkwardly kiss Ororo’s soft hand. “Listen to me ranting on. I should go.”

Ororo hesitated a brief moment before laying her hand on top of his. “Hank, can you wait here a moment? I have something in my room I think you should see. I think it would pique your scientific curiosity.”

“Oh Lord, you just had to say the ‘s’ word, didn’t you?” Hank grinned. “But yes, my dear, I would be happy to wait.”

Ororo smiled and kissed Hank’s cheek before stepping into her room.

Hank sighed softly and leaned against the wall outside of Storm’s room. He felt so foolish around her sometimes. His wit seemed to be silly and unneeded, but he couldn’t stop talking. He was sure his nervousness was more than a little apparent, and he worried that she would tire of it.

Hank smiled to himself. She was truly a wonder. While not as mentally developed as himself(which he was sure was a good thing. He didn’t relish the thought of spending time with someone with a similar thought process to his), Ororo possessed a keen and sharp intellect that he found tantalizing. She had an air of sophistication and womanliness he found equally appealing. And for all his neuroticism, Ororo seemed to understand him. They had a common love for art and culture and learning, and she had a wild freedom that helped him to forget himself and his lab and live more in the moment.