The Oh-So-Horrible, Terribly Wrong Round Robin
by Generation X
(with a little help from girlyskin, maggiecat
and wgsarah)
It was long after midnight and most everyone inside the Massachusetts Academy had since gone to sleep. Jubilee quietly snuck through the darkened halls, clutching a small marbled notebook to her chest. She'd found it hidden behind a toilet on the boy's bathroom some five minutes earlier. Scanning the hallway, she quickly she ducked into her room, and plunked down on her bed. She propped herself up against the headboard and flipped through to the last page of the notebook, reading it avidly.
"But, but..." Jean tossed her glorious red hair and cried out in disbelief. "But I haven't even died yet!"
Scott looked down his nose at her and pulled Kurt ever closer, rubbing his fingers against the downy blue skin. "I don't care!" He bit out at her, making her expression grow more distraught with each syllable. "I can't stay with you any longer. So much of my life I've wasted with you..." He gave the man in his arms a frankly lascivious look. "I want different things now." He tossed Jean one last, sideways glance. "So goodbye, Jean."
Kurt had the good grace to look uncomfortable and squirmed slightly in the taller man's embrace. "Mein Gott, Jeannie, it was not planned to be like this.."
Unable to believe what was happening before her, Jean made her last desperate bid to bond her husband to her. "But Scott, I'm pregnant!"
"What?" The statement snapped Scott out of his bemused stupor. "You're what? NOW?"
Jean sniffled and held out her arms to him. "Yes, Scott It's true and I wanted to tell you...tell you...Oh!" She began to weep copiously.
Suddenly Professor X wheeled himself in the room. "But the baby isn't Scott's now, is it Jean?"
Jubilee let out a low whistle. Jono was a sick, sick bastard if he was heading in the direction she thought he was. Giggling, she went over to her desk and rustled through it. Pulling out a pencil, she licked the tip and began to write in the notebook. After all, Jono needed some some help to keep him on the right track.
"Dear merciful heavens!!" Jean put one hand to her forehead like she was about to swoon. Scott sat down with a thump, his face dumbstruck with shock, horror, pain, and confusion.
The Professor steepled his fingers and raised one eyebrow, doing his best 'I'm so mysterious' look. "We *all* know whose baby it really is."
"I don't," Scott pointed out, bouncing Kurt on his lap. Kurt clung to Scott's neck and looked slightly embarrassed.
Jean flung herself at the Prof's feet, clawing moderately at his lap robe so she wouldn't wreck her nails. "Please!" she implored him. "You must help me! Tell me whose baby it is!!"
Gasping, Kurt shot out of Scott's arms, pulling Jean up from the ground. Her fabulous masses of strawberry hair fell across her face as he shook her. "You mean--*you* don't even know?!?"
Jean wept.
"It's a story that's not so much sordid as it is long," the Prof cut in, doing the finger thingy again. "Gather round my X-Men, and I shall tell you of it."
They all gathered round, even Jean because hey, after all, she didn't know whose baby it was either!
Snickering, Jubilee left the notebook prominently on Monet's bed. So far, the snooty creature had refused to participate, but after reading the way their masterpiece was going, how could she resist...?
Monet looked down at the notebook she held in her hands, her nose wrinkling delicately in disgust. She had stated several times that she had no desire whatsoever to participate in what she considered to be a childish endeavor. She made her way to Paige and Jubilee’s room, fully intending to make it crystal-clear to them that she wished to be left out of this. As she raised her fist to knock on the door, she heard Paige exclaim, “M?! Ya can’t be serious!”, followed by Jubilee’s laughter. Her curiosity peaked, she pressed her ear to the door and listened.
“S’not like she’ll write in it anyways,” Jubilee replied, cracking her gum loudly. “It’s *beneath* her,” she added in a mocking voice. “Pffft. Miss Perfect probably just can’t write anythin’ interesting. Probably just turn it into some boring foo-foo love story.” Monet fumed as the two girls giggled together. So they thought she couldn't write anything interesting? She marched back to her room and sat down at her desk. She skimmed over the paragraphs in the notebook, huffing haughtily every now and then. “Amateurs,” she mumbled as she picked up her pen and began writing.
Professor Xavier looked at the three X-Men who had gathered, their attention focused wholly on him. Outside, the wind howled as rain began falling from the sky. “It all began several years ago, on a night much like this one.” A loud crack of thunder shook the mansion. “The Fantastic Four had just discovered that Jean was alive. Again. Or at least,” he paused dramatically as lightning flashed, “we thought it was her.” Scott and Kurt gasped and stared at Jean, whose jaw had dropped in shock.
“Mein Gott! Another clone?” Kurt inquired.
Charles settled back into his wheelchair, his face void of expression. After a moment he shook his head. “No, no, it was Jean.” Everybody breathed a sigh of relief. “However, as we all know, Scott was already married at the time, to a woman who was a clone.” The Professor raised an eyebrow. “Or was he?”
Scott jumped to his feet, dropping Kurt to the floor. “Dear God, Professor!” he exclaimed. “What are you insinuating? That I was not in fact married to the not-yet evil clone of a woman who I thought was dead even though she was actually in a cocoon at the bottom of Jamaica Bay and had been there for all the time that I thought she had been with us when in fact the she that we thought was she was some sort of cosmic entity?” Scott took a deep breath as everyone tried to make sense out of what he had just said.
Charles nodded hesitantly. “Uh, yes, I think. No, wait, I mean no. Wait, what I mean is this.” He took another dramatic pause as the lights in the room flickered. “You were married to Madelyne Pryor, but not. Scott. Summers. For you are not Scott Summers, are you?”
Jean and Kurt looked to Scott, and then the Professor, their confusion etched on their faces.
Scott chuckled. “So you found me out, Professor. I’m surprised it took this long. I suppose there is no need for my disguise then, is there?” He began tugging at his face, pulling off the well-crafted mask that had hidden his true visage for all these years. Jean shrieked in terror as Kurt fainted.
Professor Xavier grimaced. “Actually, I knew it was you all along.”
Paige and Jubilee jumped at the knock on their door. “Ah’ll get it,” Paige said. She opened the door to find Monet standing in the hallway, a smug look on her face. She shoved the notebook into Paige’s arms.
“Here’s your boring foo-foo love story,” she said as she headed back to her room.
Paige sucked in her breath as she watched Monet saunter down the hallway. "Oh, Lord."
"What was that about?" Jubilee bounced over to Paige's side and glanced after the retreating figure.
"Mm." Paige waved the notebook in front of Jubilee's face.
"Omigawd! Did she actually write something? I can't believe it worked." Grabbing the book from Paige's arms, she pulled her into the room and began to read aloud.
"'Professor Xavier looked at the three X-Men that had gathered around him...'"
Several minutes of stunned silence later...
"That's good."
"That's really good." Paige gnawed on her upper lip, thinking while Jubilee snatched her pencil off of the bed.
"Okay, so like, then he pulls off the mask off and it's *REALLY*-" Jubilee leaned up against the wall and was about to write in the notebook when it was abruptly ripped away from her. "HEY!"
"Hey yourself. It's mah turn." Paige leaned the notebook against the wall and began writing.
"Pffffft. Make it funny, at least, willya?" Jubilee stood on her toes and tried to peek over Paige's shoulder. "Dunno if I can deal with too much drama all at once, y'know?
"RATS. HOW DID YOU KNOW IT WAS ME, CHARLES XAVIER?" Apocalypse leered at Professor X expectantly.
"I know everything," Professor X replied smugly.
Jean stopped screaming and fixed her gaze at the Professor. "You *KNEW* that the man I was with was *NOT* Scott and you didn't say *ANYTHING*?"
The Professor's face flushed. "Well I--"
"You're lying." Jean accused, the energy around her beginning to crackle. "You didn't know at all."
Xavier straightened up in his chair indignantly and flicked a bit of lint from the sleeve of his orange argyle sweater. "I did too," he sniffed.
"How?" She demanded.
"I, um, after careful research and, uh, analysis…which stemmed from a very real feeling that something was amiss with our Scott, I must stress that... I recorded and processed the aural patterns that 'Scott' emitted during some of his.. nocturnal, um... nocturnal vocalizations." Professor X tilted his chin up defensively.
Jean fell into the nearest chair and clutched the armrests. "You dirty old man..." she murmured, horrified. "You were *spying* on us."
"Scott talks in his sleep. You know that as well as I do. I thought I heard him calling to me one night." Xavier reached under the blanket on his wheelchair and produced a teapot. "Tea?" he nonchalantly asked Apocalypse.
"THANK YOU."
"Jean?" Xavier asked after retrieving a selection of cups, saucers and flatware from under the blanket.
"No, no, thank you." Jean watched in distaste as Apocalypse gingerly took the antique teacup.
"In my defense," the Professor noted calmly as he poured his own cup, "It wasn't if you were very...discreet."
"I EAT MY WHEATIES." Apocalypse began to stroke Kurt's hair affectionately.
"We can tell," the Professor assured him quite seriously.
Moaning quietly, Kurt began to struggle upright in Apocalypse's arms. "Scott? I had the oddest dream…." he mumbled, trying to clear his head.
"IT IS ALL RIGHT, LITTLE FUZZYKINS." Apocalypse cuddled him gently.
Kurt looked up with wide, disbelieving eyes into the face of the man... creature... holding him. He disappeared from his embrace in a puff of acrid smoke only to reappear in Jean's lap, rocking back and forth like a child.
Jean dumped him off her lap, disgusted.
Professor Xavier smothered a chuckle.
Apocalypse batted his eyes at Kurt, who shied away and began to gibber senselessly.
The sudden inward explosion of a window spoiled the moment.
"Professor, Ah thought Ah heard someone scre- ohhhh! Apocalypse!" Rogue screeched to a stop in mid-air. "Yuh- yuh're drinkin' *tea*! *With th' Professor*! And *Jean*! Ya must have brainwashed them, ya monster!" Rogue launched herself at the unassuming Apocalypse.
Apocalypse ducked just as Rogue would have smashed his head into pieces. Rogue crashed into the far wall.
"No, no that's not quite right." The Professor sipped his tea, thoughtfully. "He's not actually Apocalypse, either."
The fake-Apocalypse made a face at Professor X. "SPOIL MY FUN."
"But, whu- wait- huh?!" Jean sat up and took notice.
"You do do a nice Apocalypse though." Professor X reassured him, laying a hand over the Apocalypse's.
"THANK YOU. I TRY."
"What's going on? He isn't *Apocalypse*, either?" Jean stood and began windmilling her arms, her eyes lighting with a deranged, dangerous fire. "What, is it only for parties?"
"NOT EXACTLY...ALTHOUGH THAT IDEA IS OF THE STRONG." Apocalypse reached behind his head and began to pull the mask away.
"Oh Lord," Jean sighed.
Paige chuckled evilly, shocking Jubilee. "Oh, I've always wanted to do that.."
"'M not gonna ask." Jubilee skipped back to the doorway. "So whose turn is it now?" she asked.
"Who else's?" Paige tossed over her shoulder as she made her way to the boys' room.
She banged on the door loudly, but it elicited no answer. Paige got down on her knees and launched the notebook under the door. As she stood, a hand grasped her shoulder and pulled her up. Gasping, she whirled around and glared at the person behind her. "Scare the life outta me, why don't ya?"
"Sorry, mijita," Angelo shrugged as Paige eyeballed him. "But when I find a pretty girl shoving something under my door when I'm not there, I get kinda antsy."
Paige gave him a vaguely exasperated smile. "Well, it's not a letter bomb, Ange," she said. She was about to say something else when another person came shuffling down the hallway.
{{Finally made its way down to Angelo, then, eh?"}} Jonothon cuffed his friend affectionately. {{You sure he even knows how to write?}}
"Hah screw you hah. You just wait and see, my part's gonna blow--"
{{You got that right.}}
"--Blow everybody else's outta the water." Angelo glared at the distinctly smug Jono, shook his head in mournful commiseration with the giggling Paige, and marched into his room, shutting the door.
"Now, lessee..." he crooned over the little marbled notebook. "Where can I go from here?…"
"Mein Gott, my blue fuzzy heart can take this no more!" Kurt suddenly squealed and exploded in a huge brimstony BAMF!! The other X-Men paused in their conversation and unmasking and stared at the spot he'd been in.
"Well, that was unexpected," Jean remarked.
"Who cares?" Rogue whined. "At least befoah he blew up he could *touch* somebody! Ah cayn ne-vah touch aynybodyyyyy!!!!!!!" She started to blub unattractively on the couch. The Professor tried to go over and comfort her, but sadly he spilled his tea all over his Shi'ar hover-chair and it shorted a fuse, turning the Prof upside-down and leaving him stationary.
"Er...why don't you continue with the unmasking, Faux-Apocalypse," the Professor said, steepling his fingers and trying to look nonchalant despite his upside-downness.
"OKAY." The big-lipped mask peeled away to reveal a face of unimaginable beauty. That is, it would be unimaginable if its mirror image weren't currently hyperventilating across from it.
"What the good goddamn HELL is going on here?!?!?" Jean Grey screamed, staring at herself.
"Oh, don't worry," the former-Poccy assured her. "I'm a clone. You're the real thing."
"Who can even tell anymore?" Hank remarked mildly. They stared at him.
"Hay-nk!" Rogue wailed. "What're you doin' he-ah?"
"I've been here unnoticed all along," Hank said. "Just like always."
The Professor, who had managed to get his chair moving again but just not in an upright position, zoomed over to the Beast. "Have you got any thoughts on this current situation, my friend?" he asked. "And could you turn me right-side up?"
"Yes and no," Hank said, gently pushing the Prof out of his way. He stood up and took a deep breath. "Jean and Jean-clone aren't the only X-Men who things happen to, you know--"
"Ah KNOW!!!" Rogue bawled. "Ah cay-n't touch nobody evah!!!!"
"Not *you*," Hank sighed.
"Having my legs constantly restored and re-broken is no picnic --" the Professor began.
"No, not you either."
Jean brightened. "I know! He's the best there is at what he does --"
"NOT BLOODY UBIQUITOUS WOLVERINE, EITHER!!!" Calming himself, Hank smiled at the others. "I have something to share as well."
"Not gonna be as good as *my* revelation," the Jean-Clone muttered.
Everett read over what had already been written, blinking at a few parts and blushing at others. When he had agreed to take part in the round robin, he had looked forward to it, remembering how much fun they were at summer camp. This was certainly not even close to any of those stories. He sat down on his bed and wiped at his forehead. The rest of the kids would surely be expecting something juicy. But how could he possibly make something tawdry and scandalous up about Dr. McCoy? He got up and walked over to the window, hoping maybe something would just come to him. As he rested his head against the glass, two lithe forms darted across the lawn, and Everett had an idea.
Professor Xavier fiddled with the controls of wheelchair, trying to set himself upright. He merely succeeded on causing the chair to start spinning slowly, rotating on a vertical axis. “So, uh, then, Hank, please, do tell us your big secret.”
Hank began pacing back and forth. “Ah, my dearest friends, for so many years I have kept hidden a secret, one that I feared would not only alienate me further from society, but also rip asunder the close relationships I have come to cherish. Every day I keep my heart’s secret desires and profoundest wishes buried deep within so that not even the most powerful telepaths in the world could even begin to surmise that my life is a façade.” Hank took a deep breath and faced everyone in the room. “All those long hours that everyone thought I was spending in my lab? In the past year, it was only on the rare occasion that I would venture there. Instead, I spent my time toiling away on the streets of New York City, pursuing a dream that I had once thought was foolish and impossible. And now, finally, I have achieved it.”
“Hank, are you coming out?” Jean asked.
Jean-clone nodded. “This sounds a lot like a coming-out speech.” She took one of Hank’s hands and patted it reassuringly. “It’s okay, really. These are modern times we live in.”
Hank looked bemused. “What? No! I’m not gay.” He shook his head. “This is my big news. As of this afternoon, I am no longer Henry McCoy, X-Man. I am Hank McCoy,” he struck a dramatic pose, framing his face with his hands, “Broadway superstar!”
The Jeans and Rogue stared at Henry in shock. Professor Xavier merely leaned forward and steepled his hands in front of his lips, trying his best to look understanding and compassionate while hanging upside down and rotating.
“Well, Hank, this is certainly unexpected yet pleasant news. May I ask what show you will be appearing in?”
Hank’s lips spread into a wide, toothy grin. “Why, *the* musical, of course. The only musical of any significance. And the only one that would accept my furry condition.”
Jean groaned. “Oh god, no, not-“
“Cats!” Henry shouted. “Now.” He ran forward and leapt into the air. Upon landing he pirouetted once and dropped to his knees, flinging his arms out. “And forever.”
Jean-clone nodded to Rogue. “See, I knew he was gay.”
Everett lay the notebook down on the counter in the boys’ bathroom. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was supposed to do with it now, but he guessed that it should probably go back to Jono. “But first, I’ve gotta make a quick stop,” he said to the book as he walked into a stall.
He came back out and washed his hands. As he looked up into the mirror to check his reflection, he noticed that the notebook was no longer on the counter. He looked underneath it to see if maybe it had fallen. When he didn’t see it there, he checked the trash bins, and then the showers, the other stalls, and even the air vents. But he came up with nothing. The notebook had vanished. He looked around in confusion. Where could it have gone?
Artie and Leech were very happy. Artie and Leech were playing 'keep away' with Franklin. First Artie would run one way with Franklin and Leech chasing him. Then they'd chase someone else. Everett had said that Leech could use the nerf ball in his room to play with, but Leech couldn't find it. But Leech did find a notebook that had great big sparkly stickers like the ones Jubilee had on her door, so Leech took it to show her. Leech didn't think Everett would mind and Leech thought Jubilee would like the stickers. But then Franklin came to visit and Ms. Frost had told Leech and Artie and Franklin to go play outside and Leech forgot about showing the notebook to Jubilee. But that was okay because Artie had the notebook now and Leech would give it to her after he got it from Artie. If Franklin didn't get it from Artie first. And after Leech and Artie and Franklin had cookies. Leech was having so much fun.
Paige flipped through the magazine in her lap carelessly. Tossing it aside, she yawned noisily and earned a glare from Monet who was sitting on the other side of the library, pretending to read Moliere. Unfortunately for her, Paige could see the edges of the comic book she was reading hanging over the side of the book. Paige grinned evilly. "So Monet, who do you like better, Dick or Garth?"
Monet threw her another fuming glance.
"Ah, Roy. Never would have guessed it." Stretching, Paige stood and went over to the window and to watch the little boys play. "Ah didn't know Franklin was coming over today," she remarked, her gaze following them as they chased each other around. "They're so cute..."
Outside the school, Franklin tackled Artie and both boys tumbled to the ground in a cloud of dust. They wrestled briefly before Franklin stood and ran off, triumphantly holding his prize over his head.
Paige squinted to get a better look at what he was holding. "Oh no," she muttered under her breath as her hands gripped the windowsill.
Monet snapped her book shut with a sigh. "What could it possibly be this time?"
"They've got the notebook."
"What notebook?" Genuine confusion danced across Monet's features.
Paige turned to her with a panicked look in her eye. "The one we've been writing in? The one with the horribly wrong, twisted X-Men story in it?"
Paige was knocked out of the way as Monet leapt at the window. "Oh no."
Leech and Artie had managed to catch up with Franklin and double-teamed him, bringing him to the ground. The three little boys began to pummel each other, yelling and kicking. The little boys continued to scuffle across the ground, rolling around on the grass until they came to a stop by crashing into the leg of an unsuspecting bystander. The boys were then grabbed by their collars, separated and lectured about the evils of fighting.
"What's this?"
The girls watched in horror as Sean reached down and plucked the notebook from Leech's grasp.
Sean had just gotten the marbleized notebook into his hands when a comet shot out of the girls' dorm. It took him a moment and a whiff of expensive French perfume to realize that it wasn't *actually* a comet, it was Monet.
"What's gotten into the lass?" Sean wondered as Monet began to circle crazily over his head.
"Can we have our book back, Mister Cassidy sir?" Franklin asked, eyeing its shiny stickers.
"In a moment, Franklin." At the moment, Sean was far more interested in why Paige was loping across the grass towards him in a sideways manner, like a drunken rabbit. Not that Sean had ever seen a drunken rabbit before, but if there were such things, they would move the way Paige was moving at this exact moment.
The thought suddenly rang a bell of clarity in Sean's mind. What with Monet doing loop-de-loops over his head and giggling crazily, and Paige listing about the grounds, there could only be one explanation.
Jonothon.
Well, not Jonothon per se, but he was the only one who would give the girls alcohol. Jonothon had a firm belief that alcohol consumption should begin at childhood if not in the womb -- a dreadful theory that Sean was positive had been concocted only to annoy and terrify him. But be that as it may, Jono had a reckless disregard for keeping alcohol out of the hands of innocents.
Of which Monet and Paige were clearly two.
"Dear sainted Aunt Marie Claire in the green green grass of heaven!" Sean exclaimed, dropping the notebook and running over toward Paige, who was twirling on one leg.
Monet swooped down and caught the book before it landed either in the children's hands or on the grass. "Yoink," she said, pleased.
Noticing Monet shoot off towards the dorms, Paige heaved an inward sigh of relief. Now all she had to do was convince Mr. Cassidy that she just had a rather ebullient case of spring fever, and all would be well.
"By all the blessed saints in Heaven, lass, what is this meanin' o' this?" Sean exclaimed as he grabbed a hold of Paige to stop her from spinning.
"Why, Mr. Cassidy, whatevah do you mean?" she asked, batting her eyes.
He gave her stern look. "Ye haven't been drinkin' now, have ye? By all that is holy and green, if Jonothon has been sneakin' whiskey to ye, I'll-"
Paige blinked. "Whiskey? Why would ya think that I've been drinkin'?"
"Why, the way ye're spinnin' around like a leprechaun at the gates of St. James!" The headmaster gave her a stern look. "Underage drinkin' is a very bad thing, Paige. A very very bad thing." She tried to stifle the urge to laugh at him.
"Oh, Mr. Cassidy, Ah wasn't drinkin', I was...uh...practicin'! Yes, that's it, practicin' mah dancin'."
Sean looked doubtful. "That didnae look like any sort of dancin' I know of."
"Oh, no, it was. It's, uh, interpretive dancin'. Very artsy." Paige flapped her arms up and down and hopped around Sean. "See, this is how Ah express the joy of being a bird in the springtime." She twirled around and jumped into the air, her hands waving wildly. "And this, this is the joy of the sun risin' up into the sky." Sean nodded his head slowly in understanding. Paige stopped her dancing and flashed him a bright smile. "It's very relaxing. You should try it."
Monet looked up from the notebook to see both Paige and Sean leaping around the yard, their arms flapping around wildly. She watched them for a moment, her statement a cross between amusement and bewilderment, and then focused her attention back to the story she was about to write.
The three women watched Hank dance around the room wildly, singing the praises of the Rum Tum Tugger. He leaped ambitiously over the Professor's chair. "And there's no doing anything abou-oh-ow-oh-ow-oh-out it!" He landed with a crash on the floor, catching the lip of the hoverchair.
The chair flipped over, bringing the professor once more to an upright position. Charles blinked rapidly. "That's very nice, Henry," he praised the exuberant scientist, weakly.
"Thank you." Hank beamed at him. "I've always thought that--" He turned and scrutinized Jean's midsection. "Is there something you would like to tell us, Jean?"
Jean's eyes bulged. She opened her mouth to let out an anguished cry when suddenly the doors across the room burst open.
A bedraggled wraith charged into the room, covered in a fine layer of dust. Manacles dangled from his wrists and dragged behind him. "I'm free! Free!" The triumphant shout came out as a dry rattle. "Never again will I be imprisoned here in this hell!" He paused in his ranting when he realized that he was not alone in the room and turned to face the paralyzed figures.
Satisfied with her work, Monet gathered the notebook in her arms and flew off in the direction of Jono's room.
{{Finally!}} Jonothon scooped up the notebook from what passed as his coffee table with anticipation. After the performance Paige had put on for Cassidy, he was dying to know how far their little story had gotten.
He plopped down on his disintegrating old sofa and read avidly, rubbing his hands with delight when he was done. {{Top class mischief, this....}}
"Who *are* you?" Rogue shrieked at the shambling mound, knocking over a near-priceless lamp in her excitement. The Professor sighed and massaged his forehead, inadvertently tweaking his eyebrows into aerodynamic points.
"This, my X-Men," he began, "is my deepest, darkest, most terrifying and tragic --"
"May I remind you all," Jean interrupted, "that we still don't know who the father of my baby is?"
"It's me," the Jean-clone said.
"Really?" The shambling mound helped itself to a cup of tea from the Professor's service, sitting down primly on a wingchair. "How is that possible?"
"Yeah, HOW?" Jean demanded, her normally bell-like voice rising shrilly.
Jean-clone rubbed her chin. "Well, it's like this," she said conversationally. "I was created for only one purpose -- to get with Jean, as often as possible and in as many positions as possible."
"I think I'm going to be sick," Hank announced politely before bolting to the loo.
"Go on…" the Professor urged the Jean-clone, leaning forward in his chair. Rogue gave him a sideways look and moved away from him.
Jean-clone shrugged. "So I did," she said. "I was created with extra sets of sex chromosomes which I can access at any point, enabling me to switch gender at will. My creator wished to remain anonymous, so I adopted the form of 'Scott' who you all came to know."
"This creator of yours," the shambling mound squeezed some lemon into its cup, "who is he?"
"I can't believe this," Jean muttered, tossing her fiery mane to and fro.
The Professor was steepling his fingers again. "I may have an idea about who would concoct such a nefarious plan, Jean," he mused. "But who would have thought that he had such capabilities...?"
"Who?" Rogue stared from one to the other, then at the shambling mound, who was delicately breaking a petit four in half. "You?"
The mound laughed. "No, not me," it said. "You'll never believe who it was."
"Gimme the notebook, Ange! It's my turn!"
"Jono handed it to me, Jubecita. My turn."
"If you don't hand it over right this second, I'll tell Monet 'bout those 'surveillance' pictures you took."
"..."
"Thank you."
Rogue placed her hands on her ample hips and scowled, her bosom heaving mightily. "Ah do declare, if Ah don't find out who's at the bottom of this, Ah'm gonna pop like a 'possum on the side of the road during a heat wave."
Everyone paused for a second, trying to erase that gross image from their minds. Professor X shuddered and then settled back into his chair. "As I was saying-"
Jean threw herself at the feet of the Jean-clone, hugging her legs. "Please, tell me who it is! I can't bear to go on living like this any longer," she wailed, her face streaky from runny mascara.
Professor X cleared his throat. "Yes, well, as I was saying, Jean, only --"
Jean-clone kicked Jean off her legs. "God, pull yourself together, woman. I won't have the mother of my child acting like a hysterical ninny every time her life gets a little confusing."
At this point, the Prof was looking more than a little peeved. "*As* I was saying --"
Jean rose to her feet, fire flashing from her eyes. "Hysterical? *Hysterical*? I'll show you a hysterical ninny!"
"As --"
Jean-clone gulped. "N-now now, honey, calm down. Don't want to do anything to hurt our baby." She smiled hopefully at Jean. "My little snooky bookums bear." The fire disappeared from Jean's eyes as she gave her clone a loving look.
"Oh, my cuppycake gumdrop, you know I can't possibly stay angry with you when you call me that." The two women embraced and kissed as Rogue, the dusty mound guy, and the Professor watched. Rogue laughed nervously and looked down at the Professor, who was watching Jean and her clone a little too closely.
"Professah," Rogue said. "Sir? Yoo-hoo, baldy?" The Professor looked up at her. "You've got drool on your chin, shugah."
The Professor dabbed at his chin delicately. "Oops. Thank you, Rogue, for your assistance."
The dusty mound guy nodded to the two women, who were still making out. "Lovely sight, though, isn't it?" He sighed, letting loose a huge cloud of dirt from his rags. "Now, I believe you were about to enlighten us, Charles?"
"Yes, thank you, shameful secret of mine. As I was saying, my X-Men, I can only think of one person who would go to such lengths for such a scheme. Only one mind twisted yet brilliant enough to come up with such an idea. Only one soul so dark and black and --"
"Oh fer cryin' out loud, Prof, just tell us already!" Rogue whined.
The Prof gave her a dirty look. "Fine. Reed Richards."
The dusty mound guy spit out his tea. "Surely you can't be serious."
The Professor looked at him seriously. "Yes, I am. And don't call me Shirley."
Jubilee opened her door and tossed the notebook to Ange, who had been waiting somewhat patiently for her to finish up. "There. Have fun."
"Gracias," he said as he ran off to his room.
The mound-man rubbed a napkin over spilled tea on his shirt. "How can you be sure?" he asked incredulously.
Xavier reached down snapped his fingers. A large red tabby cat slunk out of the shadows and began bumping its head against the hoverchair. Scooping it into his lap and stroking it, the Professor gave him a smug look. "I read his mind. He has lousy psi-shields." Professor shot a cookie at the other man. "How do you think I knew?"
The dusty figure appeared to consider this.
Rogue began to whine. "Why whae'd he pick Jean an' not me? Ever'body always picks Jean. It's always Jean, Jean, Jean! It's not fai-iiiuhr."
The Professor rolled his eyes and punched a button on the chair. Immediately a trap door in the floor opened and Rogue fell through it screaming.
"Oh, Charles." The Beast shook his head disapprovingly. He took a sip of his tea, looked over at the couch and spit it out all over the dusty man.
The Professor followed his gaze over to the couch where Jean and her clone appeared to be 'sharing a moment'. "Oh, my."
"Indeed," came the muffled agreement from the dust guy who was scrubbing his face off with the napkin. Satisfied that he'd wiped up all of the tea, he crumpled the napkin, tossed it over his shoulder, and had another mouthful of tea spit into his face. "DO YOU MIND?!" He roared.
"But…you look…how is it...." Hank reached over to the two women and began shaking their shoulders. "Jean, Jean, look at this."
A Jean waved an arm at him distractedly as she focused on what she was doing. "Mmm?"
"No, no, Jean. Look at this." Hank pulled the two women apart forcibly and turned their heads toward the Professor and...the Professor.
"Twins." Jean's clone breathed.
The Professor scowled. "Hardly. This is-"
"Captain Jean Luc Picard, of the Starship Enterprise." The doppelganger stood and saluted. The professor winged another cookie at him.
"-- this is MY deluded clone, also courtesy of Dr. Richards."
Angelo held the notebook high over his head, admiring his work. He chuckled evilly as he imagined Paige's face as she read it. Tossing on his headset, he headed down the hall to the girl's room, dancing somewhat spastically to the music being blasted into his head. Halfway down the hallway, he felt a soft hand drop on to his shoulder. Turning to see who it was he stopped dead, a rictus grin spreading across his face. "Hola, Senora Frost."
"Angelo. Where are you going in such a hurry and in such a bizarre fashion?" Emma inquired, raising one perfect, cold eyebrow in accompaniment.
Angelo did his best to keep the heat from flushing his face as he thought of how it must have looked, him dancing like a jittering idiot down the hall. "Er...just going to see Paige, Senora Frost. I gotta drop off her...uh...Biology notebook." He weakly waved the marbleized notebook at Emma, hoping she wouldn't notice the grass-stains, dog-ears, and half-peeling glittery sticker on it.
"Hmmm." Emma regarded the book, then turned a smile on Angelo that just about melted his knees. "Angelo," she cooed. *Cooed!!*
"Yeah?"
"You seem to keep forgetting that I am psionically gifted, don't you?"
He drew in a breath, struggling to stay calm. After all, what was the worst that could happen? Even if Emma *did* read the story, it probably wasn't any worse that stuff she *already* said about the X-Men. "I don't forget, Senora," Angelo even managed a slight grin, which pleased him no end. "I just don't have anything to hide."
Emma narrowed her icy blue eyes at him. Angelo blinked slowly under her scrutiny, willing himself to keep up the insouciant, oh-so-calm act. Finally, she shook her head, smiling a bit.
"No, I suppose you don't," Emma said, folding her arms and leaning against the wall in a way that made interesting things happen up top and made Angelo's breath catch. "Go on, then."
Silent thanks to the Virgin Mary, and Angelo dashed past his teacher, deciding it would be best to ignore the almost soundless laughter that trailed after him.
Paige scrunched up her face at the notebook. "Captain Jean Luc Picard? But Ah don't know anything about 'Star Trek'." She eyed the pages again and shrugged her shoulders. She'd give it her best.
The gathered X-Men watched bemusedly as Xavier's clone repeatedly pressed on a sticker that was on his chest. "Riker? Riker, come in. Dammit, where are you?" Xavier shook his head and turned back to Hank, Jean, and her clone.
"Professor, I must admit to being slightly confused as to why a scientist as well-respected as Reed Richards would deem it necessary to make these clones," Hank stated. He looked up at the Captain, who was now talking into one of the Professor's Ming vases.
"Riker? Why are you ignoring me?"
Hank turned back to the Charles, a very confused and frightened expression on his face. “Especially clones that seem to be, ah, somewhat flawed.”
Jean and Jean-clone glared at Hank. “Hey, we resent that,” they hissed.
Hank gulped. “My apologies, ladies.”
Charles stroked the kitty. “Well, it’s all very simple, really. Mr. Richards felt threatened by me, for he found out that we were after the same thing, the same goals. He couldn’t just let me go ahead and do what I wanted to do, and so he created the clones in a vain attempt to discredit me. Unfortunately for him, his first clone was of me, and, as you can see, it was not a complete success.”
The three other mutants looked at each other and gasped. “Whatever do you mean, Professor?” Jean cried out. “What goals? What are you going to do?”
“Why, the same thing I do every night.” He raised his fist dramatically in the air. “Try to take over the world!” He lowered his hand and petted the cat again. "Isn't that right, Mr. Bigglesworth?"
Hank inched away from the Professor. “Okay…” His movement was noticed by the Captain.
“Tribble!” he shrieked before diving behind the sofa.
“Hmmph, not the best, but it’ll do,” Paige said to herself. She picked the book up headed to Everett’s room.
Everett picked up the battered notebook with some trepidation. He'd heard Jono and Angelo at breakfast, discussing in harsh whispers a joint entry they planned to make, and it had sounded...well, it had sounded completely *wrong*. Still...
Everett found an empty classroom and settled into a chair in the back to write. Mentally testing different routes to take, the inner Trekkie took over.
Hank glared at the clone and launched into a lecture that listed the difference between Tribbles and himself. The Jeans sat gaping at the Professor as he laughed maniacally, all the while stroking his cat.
"What do you think we should do?" Jean asked. Across the room the Picard-clone had decided to ignore Henry for the time being, having decided he was relatively harmless and was rummaging through the Professor's desk. "Number One? Number One? Do you read me, Number One? There appears to be no sign of intelligent life. I repeat, no sign of intelligent life. Number One? Data? LaForge?"
"Stick him back in the basement?" Jean's clone offered.
"I --" The Beast's sentence was cut off by a stream of water.
Picard stood by the desk wielding a water pistol and a pink electric shaver. "Phasers set to kill. Die, Tribble!"
Hank wiped off his face. "Jean, could you call Nathan in here?"
She nodded warily, watching as the clone seated himself in one of the tooled leather chairs and gripped the arms.
"To boldly go where no man has gone before! Warp Speed, Mr. LaForge. That's a very nice red shirt you have on there, young man."
Moments later, Cable emerged in the doorway.
"What do you want, McCoy?" The light glinted off of Cable's techno-organic arm as he took an impatient stance.
The flash attracted the attention of the clone who began to jibber into the Professor's Lady Norelco. "Red Alert! We have encountered the Borg. Number One, have me beamed up immediately. This is your captain and I demand--urk!"
Cable pressed the clone up against the wall with one of his massive guns and quirked an eyebrow at the Jeans. "Why are there two of you and the Professor?" he asked.
A Jean wrapped her arm possessively around the other. "We're clones!"
"Is this considered interfering with the prime directive?" Picard asked in a strangled voice.
"No! No more clones!" a voice cried. Hank's eyes widened as a deranged looking Alex Summers rushed the room, bearing a green fire extinguisher. He turned it on full blast, coating half the room.
"Yo, Ev!"
"In a minute, Jubilee," Everett called, scribbling a sentence down.
"Augh! C'mon, Ev! Hurry!"
"Fine." Ev stood and wandered out of the classroom to see what Jubilee wanted.
When he returned from squishing the evil-bad spider that had cornered Jubes, the notebook was gone.
{{Think maybe we should've waited to *tell* Ev we were taking the book?}} Jono scootched forward on his moldering sofa to watch as Angelo shook his head, riffling quickly through the notebook's scrawled pages.
"Nah. He'll prolly figure we took it. Either that, or that Cassidy got hold of it and a loony wagon's on its way for young Mister Thomas." Angelo paused and rubbed his hands together. "Here we go! Let's see what our resident Trekkie--"
{{Trekker.}}
"-- whatever -- has to say."
A few moments of silence as the two boys scanned Everett's entry. Then they sat back, taking the notebook with them, and scrunched up against each other. "You write," Angelo said. "You're neater."
Jono wordlessly took the book and propped it against his raised knee.
"Dammit, Alex!" Jean-clone yelled, wiping foam from her cheekbones and flicking it onto a very disgruntled Hank. "What the hell is your problem *now*?!?"
"ShutupshutupshutUP!!" Alex hollered back, dropping the extinguisher and making a terrible dent in the teak floor. "I am SO sick of you! I've *always* been sick of you! And now I find out you're nothing but another stinking CLONE?"
"Watch it," the Professor, Captain Picard, Jean, the Jean-clone, and Cable growled.
"Now, let's see if we can sort this out reasonably," Hank began, only to have foam flicked onto him by Picard.
"Engage," Picard said in a self-satisfied way.
Hank stood up. "Sir," he announced, "I bite my thumb at thee! In fact, I bite my frikkin' thumb at *all* of thee!" Pausing only long enough to stick out his tongue, Hank then exited with as much dignity as one can when covered with blue fur and fire extinguishing foam.
Jean-clone leered. "He sure had a *long* tongue," she said suggestively. Regular Jean giggled.
"Is this going to turn into an orgy?" Cable demanded. "Because that's the kind of 'family time' I'm *really* not interested in."
"HELL NO!" Alex screamed, planting one foot against the back of Charles' wheelchair and shoving with all his might. As the Professor went careening into the pair of Jeans, spilling out and onto their laps, Alex tore open a couple of cushions and began flinging handfuls of feathers into the air, laughing maniacally.
"WHO'S A PUPPET *NOW*?" he squalled. "WHO'S YOUR DAMN CHICKEN NOW?!?!"
Alex was unceremoniously halted in his rampage by Picard, who grabbed him by the shoulders. "I am LOCUTUS!" he barked, backhanding Alex sharply across the face.
Sobering, Alex shook his head, disengaging himself from Picard's grip. "Whoa," he said, holding up one hand to catch a couple of the feathers that were drifting. "I kinda lost it there for a minute, didn't I?"
"Happens to the best of us," Cable shrugged, edging towards the door. "I went Summersfuck once and woke up on the floor of a hair salon dressed in jackboots and a kilt...."
Not really listening, Alex rounded the sofa to retrieve Mr. Bigglesworth. "Sorry, cat," he crooned, stroking its foam-and-feather-streaked fur.
"This is all very nice," Jean piped up, "but could somebody get this deranged pervert OFF of us?" She shoved at Charles with a disgusted moue.
"Indeed," Charles said from the floor.
"Now," Alex said, "does somebody wanna tell me what we're gonna do with all these unwanted clones?"
"Whose turn is it next?" Angelo asked, grinning at Jono.
{{Dunno. Maybe we should leave it in an easily accessible place and let nature take its course, say.}}
"Sounds good to me. Howbout on the Playstation?"
{{Brill.}}
Jubilee hopped down the hall towards Sean's office, clutching the notebook to her chest, cheerfully plotting out the evil she had in store for the X-Men when altogether too familiar voices floated out into the corridor.
"So she'll be arrivin' next week, then?"
Jubilee stopped dead in her tracks. She had to be hearing things. Carefully she tiptoed over to Sean's door and peered in.
Oh no.
"Yes. The Professor feels that it would be best if she settled in between terms and got to know the other students before... " Jean's voice faded out as Jubilee bolted down the corridor and down the stairs.
Paige looked up as Jubilee crashed into the rec room, clutching the notebook "Goodie! My turn!" She held out her arms. "Gimme."
Jubilee shook her head. "We are SO dead."
"That good, eh?" Angelo chuckled. "Give it here, then."
{{Why dead?}}
Jubilee began to windmill her arms about. "X-Men! Upstairs! With Sean!"
"You mean they're here. In the building?" Everett popped his head over the back of a couch.
Jubilee's head bounced up and down vehemently and Paige blanched. "Oh Lord."
"I told you this would happen." Monet stated from her perch on a windowsill.
{{Monet, shut it. Who's here?}}
"Scott. Jean. Hank."
"No Professor X?"
She shook her head.
"I don't see what the problem is," Monet insisted. Standing, she walked over to Jubilee and began to pry the notebook from her locked fingers.
"You don't understand," Jubilee cried, pulling herself out of Monet's grasp. "If Scott finds out, we're dead. D-E-D, dead. Did I tell you what happened the time Bobby dressed up as him for Hallo --"
"YES!!"
She shrank back from the loud chorus of voices. "Well, this will be worse," she replied, shuddering. Visions of stacks of dishes that seemed to stretch to the heavens dancing in her brain.
"Oh, for God's sake," Paige 's voice cut through her horrified reverie. Paige seemed to have gotten her color back and was now looking a little flushed actually. "What are they gonna do, read our minds?" Angelo suddenly looked more than a little guilty and shifted behind Ev.
"We should finish it, at least. Nothing sucks more than an unfinished Round Robin," she said resolutely.
{{And how do you know that, eh, Sunshine?}}
Paige blushed. "Well, see, there are these message boards online, and y'know, there's this one that's really pretty cool--"
"Oh God." Jubilee rolled her eyes.
"-- and everyone gets killed," she finished up. "Dead as a doornail. But that's an exception generally. A lot of them just drift off," she added, frowning. "Sucks."
"I know how to end it," Angelo said, perking up. "See, the clones? Their clothes will suddenly start to disintegrate, you know? And then Alex, he'll --"
"Hey, hey!" Paige cried. "No orgies."
"What? Why? Who said anything about an orgy!" Angelo protested.
"Prude!"
"Pervert!"
"Guy, guys, c'mon." Everett got up off the couch and joined them. "Let's just finish it, and then put it somewhere it'll never be found again, okay?" He picked up a pen and offered it to Jubilee. "Think you can handle that?"
"Weeeeeeeeeeeeeell," Jubilee said, accepting the pen.
Cable shook his head. Clones were more flonqing trouble than they were flonqing worth, generally. He said so aloud and was banished to the kitchen by his foster mother and her frowning counterpart. Flonquing flonqers.
"So. Jean. Jean." The Professor leaned forward and tried to look down their cleavage. "What are your plans?"
"Well," The clone bumped Jean with her shoulder. "I was thinking we could go on a little vacation. Find a cute little bungalow by the sea, kick back in the sand, plan a little world domination... Don't you think, Schnookie?" She grinned beatifically at Jean. Jean giggled.
Alex whimpered.
"You want it, M?" she offered the book to Monet.
She rolled her eyes. "Hardly. I have better things to do with my time," she sniffed and stalked out of the room.
"Mine!" Angelo grabbed it from Jubilee.
"No orgy!" Paige reminded him.
"Surely you don't mean that, Jean!" Henry gasped, having washed off the extinguisher goo and returned.
The clone tossed her head. "Of course I do! My Son is the next world ruler, you know," she informed them, rubbing a palm over Jean's abdomen.
"I see." The Professor pressed an intercom button. "Cable, could you bring up a pot of coffee? Thank you."
"Coffee?" Alex gave the Professor an incredulous look. "They're plotting world domination and you've ordered them coffee?"
"Henry?"
"Yes, Professor?"
"Sedate him, please."
Hank pulled a tiny syringe out of his handy-dandy X-Men Pocket Emergency Kit (tm) and plunged it into Alex's arm. Alex slumped over onto floor.
"That's all you've got?" Jubes asked Angelo incredulously. "Some orgy."
"Yeah, well." He shrugged. "You want it, Paige?"
"Yes! Gimme!"
"Adrenaline junkie," Jubilee muttered under her breath.
"I heard that!"
The Picard clone stood by the window, nattering into the razor as he watched the others warily. "Lock onto these coordinates, Mr. Scott. Beam me up."
The clone glared at the assemblage one last time, and evaporated.
"Interesting," commented Dr. McCoy, tapping his cheek. "Now if you'll excuse me, I really must be going. I have a rehearsal." He struck a pose and pirouetted out of the room.
"Um, Paige?" Everett skimmed over her entry. "Mr. Scott wasn't even on Next Generation."
She tossed her head. "Oh, Whatever. You're the only TrekWarsian here, anyway."
"'TrekWarsian'?" he repeated. "I don't even want to know. I thought you said you were in rpgs and stuff."
"I'm going to get a sandwich," she announced, ignoring him. "Anyone else hungry? No?" She left the room without waiting for a response.
"Ooooooooooooooh, you're in for it, insulting her street cred," Angelo cackled.
Everett shrugged and began to write.
The Jeans nodded and stood. "We have to leave as well. Jean has Lamaze at 4," the Clone explained.
Xavier looked down on the remaining Summers, lying prone on the floor. "I don't suppose you'd like to be my little cuppy-cake gumdrop?"
Alex whimpered louder.
Xavier smiled and petted Alex's hair. "I thought you would. I'll take good care of you."
Alex imploded, taking the whole mansion with him.
"Yes!" Jubilee punched her fist into the air.
Bobby Drake pulled up to the gates of the mansion, whistling the A-Team theme. Suddenly the building disintegrated, leaving nothing in its wake but a bunch of bewildered people.
Jean stumbled to her feet. "What happened?"
Jean stumbled to her feet. "I dunno. Where are we? And who are you?"
Alex went screaming off into the trees.
Bobby slapped his hand over his eyes. "Oh, not again!" he cried. "Do you have any idea how long it took me to find replacements for all of my action figures on eBay when this happened last year?"
"I'm Jean Grey!"
"You can't be Jean Grey. I'm Jean Grey."
"No, I am. You can be Madelyne."
"Oooh! Ooh! I can't believe you!" Jean stamped her foot. "If anyone should be Madelyne, it should be you. Scott! Scott!" She took off for the woods, the other Jean racing along behind her.
"Done!" Angelo crowed.
"That's not done," Everett protested, "You can't call that an ending!"
"Can too."
"Can not," Jubilee chimed in.
{{Yeah, give it here. I'll write an ending-}}
"Hey guys, what's going on?"
The teens looked up to see Scott towering over them.
"Oh hi, Miz Summers, how are yuh?" Paige stood frozen in the doorway of the kitchen. She hadn't expected to see anyone down here, much less Jean.
Jean, for her part, was standing over the stove, holding the hot water kettle. "Paige, you know I've told you that you can call me Jean."
She nodded. "I know, Miz Summers. Golly, is there anything I can help you with? Can you find everything all right?
"No, no, I'm good, Thank you." Jean poured some water into a teacup and stirred around its contents with a spoon.
"Good. Good." Paige started to ease backwards, back out into the hallway. Jubilee had been more concerned about Mr. Summers, but Paige didn't really want to tempt fate. She didn't THINK she'd read her mind, but... "Well, I'm gonna go now, but if there's anythin' I c'n get you-"
"Hey Paige?"
She froze. "Yeah, Miz Summers?"
Jean tilted her head. "You know, you sound just like Sam used to when he was in trouble, you know that? Paige? Paige?"
Paige squeaked and ran out of the kitchen.
Jean grinned and sipped her tea. //Honey, do you have any idea what the kids are up to?//
//I have no idea.// Scott watched the kids bolt off down the hall. He turned to head back down to Sean's office when he stepped on something unexpectedly. Stooping, he picked up a rather battered marbleized notebook, covered with glittery stickers and grass stains.
Probably Jubilee's, he thought with a grin, remembering how he used to trip over all of her things when she was still living at the mansion. He flipped open the front cover and was looking for her name to make sure it was hers when the text on the first page caught his eye. Curious, he started paging through the rest of the notebook.
"JEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!"