Perfectly Normal
folder
X-Men - Animated Series (all) › FemSlash - Female/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
63
Views:
7,399
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
X-Men - Animated Series (all) › FemSlash - Female/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
63
Views:
7,399
Reviews:
2
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.
18
PERFECTLY NORMAL CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Disclaimers Apply
A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… Okay, I think the box is sorted out now. I think. InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink, Dracena and Greywolf are loverly and wondermous for archiving/hosting. ProPhile: Okay, one silver star… Morgan: *stalkgloke* Readers/Reviewers: Thank you for reading/reviewing as you can!
“Is he awake?”
“Hard to tell… might be awake and just have his eyes closed. You know it’s hard to tell after anesthesia…”
“He’s awake,” the Professor muttered thickly. “They did not knock me out that completely. Just a bit of a calming influence to keep the patient from leaping up and running away when they realize exactly what’s involved in the procedure.” The feeling of the thin, snaking device moving through his body, the sudden flaring pain of the insertion into his heart… those were things he would never forget. Staring at the bright overhead light and the half-masked faces as his mind screamed out involuntarily in pain… The Professor wanted to leave Saint Dymphna’s now. He could not stand it anymore.
“Would you like some ice chips?” Emma asked solicitously, reaching past Logan to retrieve the pitcher full of half-melted shreds of cold relief. “Your mouth is dry,” she added unnecessarily, mainly just for something to say that was not a flood of annoyed tirades at the medical staff or angry snarls at the world in general. Logan did not move as she reached past him, forcing her to maneuver awkwardly around his solid form, sliding a glare at him the entire time.
“I’m fine,” the Professor answered belatedly, feeling alternately groggy and in pain, never a combination of the two. “I just…need to rest for a bit.”
“Your doctor said you’re being ordered to get some rest and relaxation,” Logan began, feeling a shade embarrassed to be bringing this up to a grown man who needed no taking care of usually, but, as Storm had reminded him, this was not the case at the moment. He knew as well as anyone that the Professor would try to be right back at the Institute as soon as he was on his feet, and they’d be back at this place within the year, maybe two years if they were lucky.
“I plan on it,” Professor Xavier responded, the drug-induced thickness in his voice making the words muzzy and his tone lower than normal for him.
“You need some R-and-R,” Logan began again, wishing Emma would stop giving him that vaguely amused, annoyed look as she fussed over the plastic cup at the Professor’s bedside, the scent of nerves and her own organic smells wafting over them all, but only Logan could tell. “And that means somewhere that IS NOT work and home. There’s too many stressors there,” he added, remembering what the doctor had told Storm. “And until that documentary crew leaves and we work out a better organizational system for the staff, you’re going on vacation.”
The Professor would have sat up in bed if everything did not hurt so much. “Logan,” he sighed, “I appreciate the thought but…” he paused, brows creeping up, eyes moving unwillingly to Emma. He could feel her silent disapproval at what was to come, the flash of her own thoughts of his short future if he went back to the Institute right way.
“I will hold you down and make you enjoy vacation,” she said, then sighed. “Not like that…”
“I should hope not,” the Professor smiled weakly. “Sean would be most upset.”
Logan did his utmost not to get that mental image imbedded in his brain as he cleared his throat. “Storm’s made arrangements for you to go recuperate at some place…” he shrugged, his fingers curling unconsciously around the railing of the hospital bed. “She wouldn’t tell me where.”
“Ah, just what a man recovering from a heart attack needs,” Emma said in false-lightheartedness. “A mystery vacation. Who needs nitroglycerine pills when you have uncertainty?” She popped a fingerful of the ice chips into her mouth and crunched down seemingly without thinking. “Sean and I will have our hands full with the new influx of students in Boston after spring break but I’ve made arrangements to visit the Institute at least once per week to ensure that things are running smoothly in your absence.”
“Once per week?” the Professor began, brows beetling. “How long am I going to be gone, exactly?”
“That reminds me, Chuck… Magneto? What were you thinking?” Logan was doing an admirable job of keeping his temper in check but just thinking of Magneto there, alone with everyone he cared about, made his body twitch with need to return to the house and, if he had his way, throw Magneto out bodily. In pieces.
“I trusted Eric before,” Professor Xavier replied, his eyes closing. “He will not fail me now. Too much is riding on this and he knows he needs my help.”
“Help?” Emma demanded. “Help for what? Being a psychotic bastard? I’m sure he’s got that under control!” She had her shields firmly in place but she could feel her old friend battering at them lightly, like a butterfly against steel, trying to remind her, to show her how she was once the big bad they had to worry about.
“Emma,” Logan put in, his lips quirking into wry amusement, “not much room to talk, huh?”
“I have never attempted genocide,” she pointed out coolly, ignoring the tiny nurse who stood in the doorway, eyes wide and chart clutched tightly against her chest. “Nor have I used human beings in experimentation!”
“Ah, Rebecca,” Professor Xavier sighed, feeling the nervousness of the nurse as she tried to decide what to do, interrupt them or come back later. “I assume you’re here to check my vitals and make sure I haven’t shuffled off this mortal coil.”
“Uh…yes!” she squeaked, hurrying forward with wary glances at Logan’s solid bulk and Emma’s long, cool presence. The nurse barely reached Logan’s elbow and was slip-like in her size, her skin almost translucent in it’s paleness.
She would have been a Morlock if she had not had the surgery to correct the most obvious of her mutants, the webbed hands and huge, hard growths down her spine. The Professor knew this and smiled at her as she edged carefully past Emma as if she were afraid of being touched by the White Queen. “There but for the grace of god,” he murmured.
Emma and Logan took this as their cue. “We’ll be back tonight with some of the kids. Storm is going to bring Kurt, Kitty, and Jubilee by in a bit, when you’re less groggy.” Logan patted the side of the bed in as friendly a gesture as he could allow in front of the others.
“Ah, ask Storm if she can reveal my destination,” Professor Xavier called mildly as they left. “I need to know if I should pack my Speedo and sun block or my skis.”
Emma and Logan stopped in the hallway, identical expressions on their faces. “Did he just say Speedo?” she asked under her breath, cheeks coloring slightly.
“Yeah,” Logan said, shrugging slightly, smirking at her discomfort. “I’ve told him before, swimming naked is much more fun.”
Disclaimers Apply
A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… Okay, I think the box is sorted out now. I think. InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink, Dracena and Greywolf are loverly and wondermous for archiving/hosting. ProPhile: Okay, one silver star… Morgan: *stalkgloke* Readers/Reviewers: Thank you for reading/reviewing as you can!
“Is he awake?”
“Hard to tell… might be awake and just have his eyes closed. You know it’s hard to tell after anesthesia…”
“He’s awake,” the Professor muttered thickly. “They did not knock me out that completely. Just a bit of a calming influence to keep the patient from leaping up and running away when they realize exactly what’s involved in the procedure.” The feeling of the thin, snaking device moving through his body, the sudden flaring pain of the insertion into his heart… those were things he would never forget. Staring at the bright overhead light and the half-masked faces as his mind screamed out involuntarily in pain… The Professor wanted to leave Saint Dymphna’s now. He could not stand it anymore.
“Would you like some ice chips?” Emma asked solicitously, reaching past Logan to retrieve the pitcher full of half-melted shreds of cold relief. “Your mouth is dry,” she added unnecessarily, mainly just for something to say that was not a flood of annoyed tirades at the medical staff or angry snarls at the world in general. Logan did not move as she reached past him, forcing her to maneuver awkwardly around his solid form, sliding a glare at him the entire time.
“I’m fine,” the Professor answered belatedly, feeling alternately groggy and in pain, never a combination of the two. “I just…need to rest for a bit.”
“Your doctor said you’re being ordered to get some rest and relaxation,” Logan began, feeling a shade embarrassed to be bringing this up to a grown man who needed no taking care of usually, but, as Storm had reminded him, this was not the case at the moment. He knew as well as anyone that the Professor would try to be right back at the Institute as soon as he was on his feet, and they’d be back at this place within the year, maybe two years if they were lucky.
“I plan on it,” Professor Xavier responded, the drug-induced thickness in his voice making the words muzzy and his tone lower than normal for him.
“You need some R-and-R,” Logan began again, wishing Emma would stop giving him that vaguely amused, annoyed look as she fussed over the plastic cup at the Professor’s bedside, the scent of nerves and her own organic smells wafting over them all, but only Logan could tell. “And that means somewhere that IS NOT work and home. There’s too many stressors there,” he added, remembering what the doctor had told Storm. “And until that documentary crew leaves and we work out a better organizational system for the staff, you’re going on vacation.”
The Professor would have sat up in bed if everything did not hurt so much. “Logan,” he sighed, “I appreciate the thought but…” he paused, brows creeping up, eyes moving unwillingly to Emma. He could feel her silent disapproval at what was to come, the flash of her own thoughts of his short future if he went back to the Institute right way.
“I will hold you down and make you enjoy vacation,” she said, then sighed. “Not like that…”
“I should hope not,” the Professor smiled weakly. “Sean would be most upset.”
Logan did his utmost not to get that mental image imbedded in his brain as he cleared his throat. “Storm’s made arrangements for you to go recuperate at some place…” he shrugged, his fingers curling unconsciously around the railing of the hospital bed. “She wouldn’t tell me where.”
“Ah, just what a man recovering from a heart attack needs,” Emma said in false-lightheartedness. “A mystery vacation. Who needs nitroglycerine pills when you have uncertainty?” She popped a fingerful of the ice chips into her mouth and crunched down seemingly without thinking. “Sean and I will have our hands full with the new influx of students in Boston after spring break but I’ve made arrangements to visit the Institute at least once per week to ensure that things are running smoothly in your absence.”
“Once per week?” the Professor began, brows beetling. “How long am I going to be gone, exactly?”
“That reminds me, Chuck… Magneto? What were you thinking?” Logan was doing an admirable job of keeping his temper in check but just thinking of Magneto there, alone with everyone he cared about, made his body twitch with need to return to the house and, if he had his way, throw Magneto out bodily. In pieces.
“I trusted Eric before,” Professor Xavier replied, his eyes closing. “He will not fail me now. Too much is riding on this and he knows he needs my help.”
“Help?” Emma demanded. “Help for what? Being a psychotic bastard? I’m sure he’s got that under control!” She had her shields firmly in place but she could feel her old friend battering at them lightly, like a butterfly against steel, trying to remind her, to show her how she was once the big bad they had to worry about.
“Emma,” Logan put in, his lips quirking into wry amusement, “not much room to talk, huh?”
“I have never attempted genocide,” she pointed out coolly, ignoring the tiny nurse who stood in the doorway, eyes wide and chart clutched tightly against her chest. “Nor have I used human beings in experimentation!”
“Ah, Rebecca,” Professor Xavier sighed, feeling the nervousness of the nurse as she tried to decide what to do, interrupt them or come back later. “I assume you’re here to check my vitals and make sure I haven’t shuffled off this mortal coil.”
“Uh…yes!” she squeaked, hurrying forward with wary glances at Logan’s solid bulk and Emma’s long, cool presence. The nurse barely reached Logan’s elbow and was slip-like in her size, her skin almost translucent in it’s paleness.
She would have been a Morlock if she had not had the surgery to correct the most obvious of her mutants, the webbed hands and huge, hard growths down her spine. The Professor knew this and smiled at her as she edged carefully past Emma as if she were afraid of being touched by the White Queen. “There but for the grace of god,” he murmured.
Emma and Logan took this as their cue. “We’ll be back tonight with some of the kids. Storm is going to bring Kurt, Kitty, and Jubilee by in a bit, when you’re less groggy.” Logan patted the side of the bed in as friendly a gesture as he could allow in front of the others.
“Ah, ask Storm if she can reveal my destination,” Professor Xavier called mildly as they left. “I need to know if I should pack my Speedo and sun block or my skis.”
Emma and Logan stopped in the hallway, identical expressions on their faces. “Did he just say Speedo?” she asked under her breath, cheeks coloring slightly.
“Yeah,” Logan said, shrugging slightly, smirking at her discomfort. “I’ve told him before, swimming naked is much more fun.”