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Making Memories	By : miladygrimm Category: X-Men: (All Movies) > General Views: 3221 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men. X-men and all its characters are the intellectual property of Marvel Comics and 20th Century Fox. I make no money off the writing of this fanfiction.

Chapter List
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Olivia, finally outfitted in a long bohemian dress, wandered the once familiar halls and lost herself in her memories. She'd happily left Ororo back in the dorms to tend her own morning rituals. Olivia needed to collect herself.
It was quiet. It would be a few days before the students arrived. The living quarter halls were much the same as they had always been, just quieter. Morning sunlight lent a much needed warmth to the hallway. A few landscape paintings, done by master hands, added a dash of culture.
It was strange to be back. Olivia's moss-green skirt nearly brushed the dark wooden floors as she walked down a hall she had trekked a thousand times before. It was stranger still to see how much had differed and how much had stayed the same. The wood paneling had been kept up over the years, but it had the same natural grain. The carpets had been refurbished but the elegant coloring had remained. The X-mansion, as the students often called it, was as modern as it was timeless.
She had just celebrated her twelfth birthday when she stepped through that front door, her body a long whip of flesh with knobby knees and elbows. The red dust of her home still clinging to her She'd worn tattered hand-me-downs and her thrift store school bag was wrapped tightly in her grasp. Her hair a curling mess around her still young face. She had been terrified and intrigued all at once.
She had never seen so much opulence in her life.
“Olivia?” a voice, deep and cultured, plucked through the chords of her memories and brought her back to herself. She knew that voice.
“Hank?”
The voice was the same, everything else was different. When Olivia had last seen Hank McCoy he had been pale, gangly, eighteen, and (she had thought) barely aware of her existence. He had filled out in th fifteen years since. He'd grown into those long legs and wide shoulders but that was hardly all. That face, once barely able to sport a youthful smattering of peach-fuzz now was covered with deep blue fur. His cheeks were broader and higher, his chin with the softened point of a cat. In fact, everything about him looked feline, right down to his golden eyes...which he certainly hadn't had in school.
“Ah...yes.” he said linking powerful hands in front of his body.
“You look...”
“Different?” he offered cocking his head to one side.
“Good.” she supplemented. “I was going to say good.”
“Ah, well.” he gave her a broad grin, revealing sharpened teeth inside that feline-esque mouth. “You are too kind. You're looking very well yourself.”
She resisted the urge to tug at her dress. He looked better than good. The tailored suit he wore, several shades darker than his fur, brought out the bold and powerful build he'd cultivated. The golden tie he wore was knotted well against a strong throat. He looked...perfect.
“It's good to see you. I was just on my way to breakfast, care to join me?”
“I'd love to, actually.”
“Wonderful!” He opened his arms and motioned for her to take the lead. “The kitchen hasn't moved. Are you visiting?”
“Not exactly,” she took the left corridor that would take her to the stairs and down to the kitchen. “The professor has offered me a job.”
“Well then! Welcome indeed.” he fell into step next to her. “You said offered though...you have yet to accept?”
“I've accepted for the short term. The first term, actually.”
He cleared his throat and his voice gentled, “Are you still having problems with your...powers?”
She glanced over at him. “Was I so bad in High School?”
They came to the stairs and she watched him take the outer steps, taking them a step behind her, his hand sliding over the wooden banister. “There weren't so many of us back then. It was hard not to notice things....”
“I'm Hyper-Aware, Hank. There is no changing that. It's gotten stronger with age...not less.”
“Stronger?”
“You were legitimately shocked to see me this morning. Not just surprised, but shocked. Moreover you were surprised that I wasn't dressed in thrift store hand me downs...”
He opened his mouth, “Now that...”
“It's alright,” she cut him off before he could offer a polite apology. “I know how I looked back then.”
He looked down at his feet, “I didn't mean to be rude.”
“I know you didn't. And I didn't take it that way. I was a very poor girl in a very wealthy place. I stood out.”
“What are your impressions of me so far?” he asked curiously.
“I know that your suit was recently tailored and it's too tight through the shoulders. You are hoping that wearing it is going to stretch out but deep down you know better. You still favor your left foot, football accident? The steps are heavier there. You've tried a new knot for your tie today, it's too tight at your throat and pulls at a shirt that would otherwise lay flat....”
“It had gotten better...”
“Your sense of smell is strong probably stronger than your vision or sense of taste. Far stronger than it used to be that's for sure. You still walk that line between wanting to fit in and wanting to be yourself.”
“Alright...” he said with a chuckle. “how could you possibly know that?”
She slowed as they made it to the kitchen. “I'm hyper aware. I know that you've showered recently but you didn't use a scented soap. Certainly not the little pine ones they stocked in the dorm rooms.”
He visibly winced. “No...”
“Your nose flairs when you are scenting things.”
“You smell like honeysuckle.” He managed to look bashful. She couldn't see the blush beneath the fur but she was positive it was there. It gave her a small thrill.
She nodded. “Maria has a soap making business. All natural supplies. I have extra if you are interested.”
“Very. But...it suits you better than it would myself.”
She paused to face him, he stopped short to keep from running into her. Her toes nearly touched his and if she breathed hard enough her chest would have brushed his. She watched the flair of his nostrils once more. She knew he was taking in her scent again. Better, he knew that she knew.
“I also know it's been a long time since you had sex and you are trying to ask me out without being too forward.”
“My stars and garters, however did you guess that?”
“I don't have to be Hyper-Aware to notice that you were staring at my ass when we walked down the stairs.”
“I was trying not too.”
“I know that too.”
“So what are you going to say if I ask?” There was a carefully controlled fretfulness to that phrase. She could see that he was trying to be casual about it but he truly feared her saying no.
“I already said yes to breakfast, didn't I?”
“Indeed you did.” he stood straighter and his smile reached his eyes.
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Making Memories