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Perfectly Normal	By : Nemain Category: X-Men - Animated Series (all) > FemSlash - Female/Female Views: 6947 -:- Recommendations : 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.

Chapter List
- 1-Perfectly Normal
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
- 8-8
- 9-9
- 10-10
- 11-11
- 12-12
- 13-13
- 14-14
- 15-15
- 16-16
- 17-17
- 18-18
- 19-19
- 20-20
- 21-21
- 22-22
- 23-23
- 24-24
- 25-25
- 26-26
- 27-27
- 28-28
- 29-29
- 30-30
- 31-31
- 32-32
- 33-33
- 34-34
- 35-35
- 36-36
- 37-37
- 38-38
- 39-39
- 40-40
- 41-41
- 42-42
- 43-43
- 44-44
- 45-45
- 46-46
- 47-47
- 48-48
- 49-49
- 50-50
- 51-51
- 52-52
- 53-53
- 54-54
- 55-55
- 56-56
- 57-57
- 58-58
- 59-59
- 60-60
- 61-61
- 62-62
- 63-Mise en Scene: Coffee and Cream
- 33
- 34
- 35
Perfectly Normal Chapter Thirty Four

Disclaimers Apply

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad
Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE (TM), Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch
and Uberbeta... raaaaaaaainy season makes it hard to work. Blah.
InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink, Dracena and Greywolf are loverly and
wondermous for archiving/hosting. :) ProPhile gets a big cookie for
his zip files. :) Morgan: *stalk stalk stalk tackle *
Readers/Reviewers: Thanks for reading and reviewing when you can! I
appreciate it! So do the ducks and kitties...

“Professor Xavier!”

He vented a harsh sigh but smiled as he
turned to face the nurse, the one with the Morlock husband. “Yes?”

“Why aren't you in bed?”
she fussed, hurrying around the nurse's station towards him, fully
intending to push his chair back to room he had just vacated. She
glared briefly at his haphazard state of dress: a slightly wrinkled
shirt, pulled from the plastic bag under his bed, forgotten in the
worry over his heart, the wrinkled slacks from the same bag, looking
a bit worse for wear thanks to their lack of synthetic fiber, and a
tie, left loose around his neck. He had managed a shave, missing only
a few spots and sporting one tiny dot of blood over his Adam's apple.
“You look a mess!”

“Ah, there is the bedside manner
I have heard so much about,” he murmured, resting his hands on
his knees as she pushed him hastily back towards the room, obviously
hoping to get him out of sight before the head nurse noticed her
charge had made a break for it. “I was simply hoping to go to
the nursery. I wanted to see the babies.” He knew how poor of
an excuse that sounded to be, but it was true in part. He had planned
on stopping by the large window they had set up as a sort of
observation area for new parents and their families, a sort of
voyeuristic way to get used to the notion of a baby, he supposed. He
liked the nursery because babies were so purely innocent and so
uncluttered mentally that it was like a small break from his daily
stresses. It was simple, he thought: feed me, change me, love me.
Rather like some adults I know. He let the nurse flip the
sides of the bed down and adjust the chair to make it easier for him
to transfer between the two. “If I'm to be released tomorrow, I
don't see the problem in taking a small spin about the floor,”
he complained, not making a move to transfer. She was shielding
against him, he realized. She had managed to block him out entirely.
It was a wall of white noise coming at him. Not only is she
shielding, he thought, she's projecting it. “Something
the matter today?”

“No,” she said sharply, her
friendly nature dissolving like sugar in warm water. Her gaze slid
sideways, back to the door, and past it. Something akin to fear
flickered across her face and was gone as quick as a wink, leaving in
it's wake a smooth, placid expression devoid of any real emotion.
“Let's get you back into bed. You have about two hours before
we wake you for your sleeping pill.”

“I hope you're joking,” he
replied flatly, transferring himself easily without her help. He
managed to swing both of his legs into the bed, wincing slightly as
his chest gave a twinge of protest. “Who is waiting for you?”

“What?”

“Someone is waiting for you in
the lounge. Someone you don't want to upset.”

“Stay out of my head,” she
said tersely. “It's not polite.

“I'm not in your head,” he
replied as calmly as could be. “I'm just good at reading
people. You keep glancing to the door, your movements are sharp and
short, and you are hurried, unlike before. Someone is waiting for you
and told you not to be long.” He inhaled as she leaned across
him, her lips pressed into a thin line of annoyance. “A Morlock
is waiting for you.” The unmistakable whiff of sewer water
mingled with the usual hospital smells of antiseptic and cleanser.
“Someone who's not welcome in the main tunnel,” he
murmured more to himself than anything else. He knew those who lived
in the main tunnel did not have the sewer water smell of those living
on the fringes, those relegated to the more public tunnels that led
directly from the storm drains.

“Good night, Professor Xavier,”
the nurse cut him off tersely, adjusting his oxygen monitor a little
more roughly than absolutely necessary. “Someone will be by in
a few hours to check on you.”

He closed his eyes
in mute annoyance as the door shut behind her. “Why send
someone by when you can just look at the damned monitors?” he
muttered, pushing agitatedly at the blanket covering him to his hips.
He sat quietly for a minute or two more, drumming his fingers against
the thin sheets before letting out a sharp, short curse of
frustration. His chair was again out of reach and he did not feel
like exerting the energy to move it towards him using his
limited—very limited—telekinesis. As powerful as he was,
he thought with a small sliver of self pity, he could not move a
simple wheelchair two feet. The door hissed open again and he sighed.
“I'm not running off. Rolling off rather.”

There was an
amused, very masculine, snort before the door swung open the rest of
the way. “Well, why not?”

Professor Xavier
blinked in mute surprised. “Eric,” he finally said, the
name sounding dusty and ill used on his lips. “To what do I owe
the honor?”

“Remember,” Magneto said
slowly, looking around the room as if the very sight of it made his
head ache, “when we were twenty three and decided to go out on
the town to celebrate our genius? We drank that awful home brew and
woke up in that tiny hospital in Berlin...” A faint smile
touched his lips. “You look worse than that now.”

Professor Xavier
raised a brow. “You came to reminisce?”

“No,I came to spring you, as the
kids say. Shall we?” He pushed the chair closer to the bed and
waited for a reply, lips twitching with the need to smile.

“While it might be unwise of me
to leave before questioning this out of character exercise, I'm not
going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Lead the way, Eric.”

“Problems?”

“He...no,” the nurse
sighed, sinking onto the creaky vinyl chair she had abandoned in the
lounge. “Sorry it took so long.”

“That's fine,” Marrow
smiled thinly. “It's given me time to think further on your
request. I can get you to your husband. But you must let me get to
Professor Xavier.”
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Perfectly Normal