Perfectly Normal
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Perfectly
Forty Six
Disclaimers Apply
A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST
WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… *sends minions to do
work for you * InterNutter, TC, Maxwell
Pink, Dracena and Greywolf are loverly and wondermous for
archiving/hosting.
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ProPhile: *poke * Morgan: I think I’m
stalking too sneakily… ;)
Readers/Reviewers: AFFN is mostly up but for some reason the part with
my fics is not so… I have a cunning plan.
I just have to decide if I really want to do it or not.
Mark tapped
his fingers idly against the desk, staring at the locked, firmly seated case of
rare and important texts just yards away.
He was not wondering at the contents or even giving them a shred of
thought. Instead, they were his focal
point in the ongoing fight to stave off the need to yawn as Brian and Jacob
took turns going through their interview questions with him.
S.W.A.T
and frowned. “What did you just say?”
There was a
lengthy pause as the two college students exchanged significant looks.
plasma flash the night before and his eyes squinted in an exaggeration of the
mild sensitivity they still bore, leaned forward and repeated himself.
species.”
Mark
counted to ten in Dutch, then Latin, then German before reflecting on the
similarities between the first and last languages. Then he stood slowly, his
lips curving into a grimacing smile. “Gentlemen,
and I use that term loosely, it is barely nine in the morning.
interview is finished.” He did not move
towards the library door, trying to think of where Storm and
refugees that had shown up just an hour before.
Surely they’re still in the
infirmary, he reasoned quickly.
arrived to help Beast yet…
“You’re
normal,” Brian practically hissed, not moving from his spot in the wooden chair
before Mark’s desk. “All of those stories
about this place are true.” He was
gaining volume, sounding nearly excited as Jacob stood, forcing him to stand or
become the one in a position of submissiveness.
“We’re all
normal,” Mark replied mildly. “Well,
most of us. I have serious doubts about you…”
A light, rapid knock fell on the library door and he barely managed to
hide a sigh of relief as Jean stuck her head into the room. “Mark? Do you have
a minute? Mister Samuels from down the
road is here and he’d like to speak with one of the, er, adults in charge…”
students, aware of what they both thought of her in her slightly overlarge
scrubs and lack of make up. She wanted
to snarl at them, demand to know if they thought she liked looking tired all
the time, looking on the verge of illness from overwork, but she held her
tongue. She had enough to worry about
with Kurt pacing, panicked, in the basement sublevel just beneath her feet, the
stoic Shi’ar staring and waiting with him.
“Mister…
Samuels?” Mark blinked, wondering if
this was some sort of code he missed learning about.
her way of giving me an out? Or is this like Code Blue at the hospital? “Send
him in. Brian, Jacob… it’s been… annoying.”
Jean opened
the door a bit wider and a man of indeterminate years stepped inside, bobbing
his head politely. “I hate to interrupt your meeting, sir, but I came over to
speak with Charles Xavier.” He paused, shaking his head and making a noise of
sorrow low in his throat. “I had that
angio stuff back in the early nineties.
Knock you on your ass, it will.”
He smiled politely at Brian and Jacob, taking another step into the
room. “This nice young lady here was
just on her way to work but took the time to bring me back here… Lord, I haven’t
been inside this house since…oh,
since right after the second War to End All Wars…” he smiled again, this time a
sad expression that spoke of ghosts he’d like to leave lie.
“Are you
aware,” Brian began hotly, only to suddenly scream in pain as the wooden chair
at his side seemed to take on a life of it’s own and tip over onto his
foot. Not easily discernible to the
naked eye, the wooden chair pressed down hard against the top of his foot,
sending a shock of pain through his leg to his hip.
Jean shook
her head sadly. “Come on… we’ll get you some ice…”
Mark held
his tongue until the students had been led out, almost forcefully, by
Jean. Forcing a smile, he turned his
attention to Mister Samuels. “How may I
help you?”
The man
drew himself up straight, all traces of polite humor vanishing from his
expression. “I need to speak with
Professor Charles Xavier. It’s urgent.”
“I’m afraid
he’s on vacation for a few weeks… Ah, is this a complaint, by any chance?”
“No…”
furtively, dropping his voice to a near whisper.
it’s not gonna end well unless he uses the gift God gave him.”
“I’m afraid
I’m not certain what you are speaking of,” Mark said slowly, sinking back into
his seat behind the desk and motioning for Mister Samuels to take up the
remaining wooden chair. “Could you, ah,
clarify?”
Mister
Samuels sighed loudly. “In all my years
livin’ behind this place I never put two and two together till I seen what’s
been in the news the past few years. Now, it makes so much sense that I musta
been dumb as a bag of hair not to see it before.”
“Mister
Samuels…”
“Next time
you speak to Chuck,” he cut Mark off, “tell him Pinky from the 402nd
says thank you.” He turned on his heel
and strode towards the door, pausing to toss over his shoulder, “And tell him
he’d better keep his nose clean and lay low till this all blows over.”
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