Morgan's Theme: (Don't Stand So Close To Me), Part I
Morgan’s Theme: (Don’t Stand So Close To Me)
Fandom: X-Men, Comics Universe, Earth-6916
Rating: 18+
Warnings: Graphic Sexual situations.
Disclaimer: The recognizable characters and the setting used here are the property of Marvel Comics. Those characters described as “Mutant Sues” or “Mary Sues” are the property of Ladydeathfaerie, Nanaea, Dazzledfirestar, SilverFoxChan, and Ginevra. This story takes place prior approximately a year before the events of The Mutant Sue Virus. I make no money from this work.
Authors Note: In the beginning of The Mutant Sue Virus, we find Morgan having an affair with a member of the staff and it is implied that the affair has been going on for some time. What we didn’t see was how that affair began. And that missing bit has been driving me crazy ever since. The object of Morgan’s schoolgirl fantasy is forever entangled in my mind with the works of the band, The Police. And Morgan herself comes to mind each and every time I hear “Don’t Stand So Close To Me.” I was hoping this would be a quick one-off and finally get this bunny off my back. Quick it was not. And it remains to be seen if this will really banish this particular demon-bunny completely. Warnings: Here there be graphic sex between an authority figure and a student. Here there be use of a non-standard appendage. Oral sex. Hand job. And a complete disrespect for the boundaries of a teacher-student relationship. Mild F/F content. Enjoy.
Part I: Schoolgirl Fantasy
All right. Let’s get things straight here. I did not set out to seduce my teacher on the first day of class. No matter what you might think. I did have a lot going on that year. Seriously.
To begin with, Dare was still having trouble settling in and catching up on her grades. Don’t get me wrong, she’s pretty smart. But I don’t think the gang she was running with was a big fan of school. So she had a couple of grades to make up. And we were working on that. Together. Xavier’s is a small school, so it really wasn’t hard to make sure we had the same classes.
The next big thing on my plate was “The Team.” Yeah. Haley was on a mission to lead the first all-girl X-Men field team. A team she picked for herself instead of waiting for God himself, a.k.a Professor Charles Xavier, to grant her one. We weren’t even on the training roster yet. The Danger Room was strictly off limits, but that didn’t keep “Icon” from drilling us in whatever open space she could find.
Hey! Don’t laugh. I said “us.” That would mean me, myself, and Dare. And yeah. I know what they were saying behind my back. I was on the team because that was the only way they could get someone like Dare to join up. Maybe. Maybe not. Haley and Roxxy have been my friends for years. I think they’d at least have given me a shot at it. So we’ve got four and we’re looking for a fifth. If we can just find the right girl…
Oh. But this isn’t about “The Team” right? It’s about me. And that teacher. Like I said. I didn’t set out to seduce him the first day of class. I decided it the day before I signed Dare and me up to take first year German. We needed the credits anyway.
“German?” Dare glared at the schedule like she could intimidate it into saying something else. I snatched it from her fingers before it could burst into flame. Things that Dare didn’t like tended to do that. Good thing she really liked me.
“Yes. German.”
“That’s fucking useless. Germany lost the war. Duh.”
“Well at least you remember something from History class.”
“I actually like History. It’s you that kept zoning out.”
“I didn’t. I took notes the whole time.” With my double’s help, of course. When my doppelganger was feeling helpful, she was a treasure. When she was feeling puckish - my friend Roxxy’s word, not mine - she was pure trouble. For Dare, she’d help me.
“We’re taking German. We need the credits and we’ve actually got a real, live German teaching it this year.”
“Wait? The blue guy? With the fur and the tail and the pointy teeth?”
“Yes.” Something gave me away, I’m not sure what. “Mr. Wagner. And his teeth aren’t all that pointy.”
“You want me to take German so that you can stalk this Wagner guy?”
“No. I need the language credits and so do you.”
“Then let’s take French. It’s got to be easier.”
She still tried to talk me into French, but I got my way in the end. No. I’m not telling you how. That’s between Dare and me. It did involve confessing my intentions, though.
“You’re serious, Morgan? He’s a teacher. Isn’t that going cause trouble?”
“Only if we get caught.”
“I thought we were supposed to be playing it safe, staying out of trouble.” Dare scowled at me. Then she swatted me with a pillow. “Or do you just mean I’m supposed to stay out of trouble?”
“Ow!” I tried to swat her back, but she dodged. That’s when my double piled in on the fun and we wound up giggling in a pile of pillows and blankets on the floor. When the giggles finally ran down we just cuddled where we were for a while. Don’t tell anyone, but Dare cuddles really well once the boots come off. “Seriously, Dare. I’ll be careful. I’ve got my own built-in lookout. I won’t get caught.”
“You’d better not.” She growled, but she snuggled closer. “If you get yourself kicked out, I won’t last another week here. You can go home, but I’ve got nowhere left to go.”
“I won’t get caught. But even if I did, it’d be his ass in the sling not mine.”
“That’s cold, Morgan.”
“Maybe. But it’s the truth.” Or at least part of it. It seemed to make Dare feel safer to think that I’d have somewhere to go if she screwed up bad enough to get us both kicked out. Because there was no way I’d let her go without me. No way I was going to lose her again. But I wasn’t really sure I could go home. Not any more.
I hadn’t been home once since my folks had packed me up and put me on a plane. I got cards, letters, pictures and cash. But never a plane ticket or an invitation to come home for the holidays. Not once in the more than two years I’d been there. Dare hadn’t been there a year yet and she didn’t know. I hadn’t told her.
I’d quit asking to come home once Dare got there. I was afraid to leave her alone. Afraid she wouldn’t be there when I came back. But this time I was going to ask. I wanted to go home. Not to stay, but for a visit. To see my brother before he moved out and got married. I wanted to hug my Mom and let my Dad try to explain football to me one more time. I wanted to see if my room was still my room or if they’d made it over into a guest room or something else. I wanted to see for myself whether or not it was still my home.
“Let’s throw all this shit back on the bed and go to sleep.”
“OK. I suppose we can’t stay up all night. Classes start tomorrow.”
“Don’t remind me.”
~*~
I can’t say that German is exactly a fascinating language or anything. But listening to “Herr Wagner” speak it was fascinating. OK. Maybe it was just me and my adolescent hormones. But I was fascinated.
That first day I think half of the class was actually afraid of him. I guess I can see it. Of all the mutants that lived at Xavier’s, “Nightcrawler” was one of the least human looking. He was covered in short fur that always made me think of velvet and was this very deep, dark blue that was almost black but wasn’t. When you caught his face in shadow, his eyes seemed to be glowing amber lights. He moved like a dancer or a cat and I couldn’t help but wonder what he looked like underneath his clothes. His tail had a sort of triangular shape on the end of it that always made me think of the Ace of Spades. Yes. I said tail. It was long enough to brush the floor and it was always in motion. That all by itself was totally fascinating.
OK. So maybe I couldn’t really see why people thought he was frightening. He did have pointed teeth. Though I think calling them fangs was a bit much. I admit that his hands and feet were really different, only three digits instead of five. And he did sort of resemble a Hollywood-style demon, minus the horns and pitchfork. A little bit. But he was just too nice and friendly to think of that way.
No. He didn’t look very human. But I thought he was beautiful. Maybe I’m a little weird. But if you really looked at him, looked at him as being exactly the way God made him and quit trying to make him fit into what you thought of as “human” - he really was beautiful.
“Riiiiight. Beautiful.” Dare rolled her eyes at me and dug an elbow in my ribs. “Pay attention. I can’t copy your notes later if you’re too busy drooling over the Prince of Darkness to pay attention to what he’s actually saying.”
“Why don’t you take your own notes?” I grumbled and tapped my pencil against the edge of my desk.
“That would ruin my image as a fuck-school-I-don’t-need-it badass.”
“Oh. Of course. What about my image as an empty-headed slut?” I rolled my own eyes at her, but I started copying down the next line anyway.
“Empty-headed bimbo.” Dare shifted in her seat and one boot hit the desk in front of her hard enough to make a noticeable thud. “Nobody calls my girl a slut.”
“Slut, bimbo… What’s the difference?”
“About five hundred degrees.” Dare grumbled and glared at the boy in front of her. He’d turned around to object to having his seat kicked. He turned back around without saying anything. “Make sure you get that last line. It sounds kind of important.”
“Yes, Miss Badass.”
~*~
I was good that first week or so. I took my notes, did my homework, helped Dare with hers. I raised my hand and asked questions. Made sure he saw me there every day. Hell, I made sure he called my name at least twice a class partly because just hearing him say it sent a thrill down my spine. I was pretty sure he liked me. As a student, I mean.
The second week I started to turn it up a notch. My skirts got shorter and my sweaters got tighter. I found excuses to get closer to him, coming up to his desk to ask questions rather than just raising my hand. Nothing too over the top. Not yet. And definitely not in front of witnesses. I wasn’t planning on getting caught.
By the third week I was coming to class early and leaving late. I’d have a question ready or just help straighten up. He was starting to get used to me being there. I think he was actually waiting for me to show up sometimes. I even “confessed” that I was tutoring Dare, trying to help her catch up for the years of school she’d missed while she was running around with the gang. He liked that. He liked that a lot.
“That is very admirable. Why don’t you bring your friend tomorrow afternoon and we will go over the unit together.”
“Dare really doesn’t want anyone to know.” I gave him my best helpless shrug. If I do it just right and my blouse is unbuttoned far enough, it flashes. I hadn’t caught him looking yet. But I was sure I caught his tail twitching when I did it. “She’s really embarrassed about it. She gets into enough fights as it is.”
“If she wishes to improve her grades, she should come herself.” He was busy wiping down the chalkboard. I watched his tail swish back and forth while he did it. That was happening more and more often. I was pretty sure that meant I was getting to him. I waited until he turned back around.
“You won’t help me?” I leaned over his desk and gave him big, sincere eyes and a nice view down my blouse. I bit my lip for good measure. I did catch him that time. It was just a tiny one, but he looked. I know he did. “Please?”
“Tomorrow at four.” Now that I’d caught him looking, he wouldn’t look at me again. His eyes kept moving around as he fiddled with papers on his desk. “Don’t be late.”
“I won’t.” I stood up and scooped my books up. He finally looked at me again. I flashed him a smile. “Thanks, Mr. Wagner.”
“You are welcome.”
Things were going just about perfect then. I had him all to myself for almost an hour after school for two days a week. When we ran out of German to work on, I pulled out my math or my history book. He was willing to help me with just about anything I asked. Like I said, he was a really nice guy. And it actually did help me with Dare. Honest.
By the fourth week I’d started sneaking a few touches in here and there. I’d touch his arm or the back of his hand to get his attention. I’d brush up against him while we looked at a book together. I found out his fur really did feel like velvet. Really soft and fine and warm. And he always had this unusual smell about him.
I guess it was that “brimstone” stuff from his teleporting. I hadn’t seen him do that yet. But, I had seen him use his tail to grab things like books or his briefcase. Or to pull a chair closer. When it was just the two of us, he would relax some and do things like that. Oh yeah. I guess brimstone smell was kind of unpleasant, but you got used to it after a while.
Like I said. Things were going pretty well for me. My grades were good, Dare’s were getting better, and I’d have Herr Wagner eating out of the palm of my hand any day. That’s when Timothy Miller started passing me notes.
Who was he? Nobody worth mentioning. Usually. He was pretty average looking. Brown hair, brown eyes, not particularly tall or short. Average. He did have a minor telepathic ability. Really minor. He could control the mind of a bird. Not control the minds of birds. A bird. One at a time. His favorite thing to do with it when he thought nobody would catch him was to make the poor thing slam headfirst into the nearest windowpane. He liked to call himself “Birdshot.” Dare liked to call him “Birdshit.” I just refused to call him. Some guys don’t take that too well.
I guess he’d noticed my spending the extra time with Mr. Wagner. What was in the notes? Pictures. He was a lot better at drawing than he was at controlling birds. The girl in the picture actually looked like me and the guy was obviously Mr. Wagner. It started with “me” kissing Mr. Wagner’s ass and went downhill from there.
“Shit.” I groaned as the third picture of the day slid right past my shoulder to cover my notebook. I flipped a glare over my shoulder at the grinning asshole. I crumpled it up and shoved it in my backpack and tried to concentrate on my work. The next one came with a tap on my shoulder just to make sure I didn’t miss it. I almost let it fall to the floor, but when I caught sight of what was on it -- No. I didn’t want anyone to see that one.
I managed to catch it before it hit the ground. I wadded it up in both hands, squeezing it down until I felt my knuckles creak. If looks could kill, Timothy Miller would have been nothing but a little puddle of pigeon shit. But he just laughed at me. I ground my teeth and reached out to Dare. I pressed the wad of paper into her palm and held it there.
“Burn it.” I hissed.
“Huh? We’re in the middle of class.”
“Burn it. Now.” Some of the other students had noticed something was going on and they were turning to look at us. I did not want Mr. Wagner to see this.
“All right. But you told me to do it.” She smirked at me, then turned her gaze on good old Tim. A few locks of her hair trembled against her shoulders and her palm got warmer and warmer under mine. I could smell the paper burning and I felt the heat. But it didn’t burn me. It didn’t even hurt. It felt…I don’t know how to describe it. But it didn’t hurt. When it was nothing but ash, she pulled her hand out of mine and let the ashes drift to the floor. She waggled her sooty fingers at Tim. Then she leaned over to whisper. “So what was in the picture?”
“Don’t ask.” I wished I could unsee it. Remember that I’d said that Mr. Wagner looked sort of like Hollywood’s idea of a demon? The asshole had taken the ball and run with it. Pitchfork, horns, pentagrams, a truly evil expression that I could never, ever, picture on the real man’s face if I hadn’t seen the drawing. It made my blood boil and my stomach twist into knots.
Later I figured out that letting him see how much it bothered me was a mistake. A big one. Birdshit had a new hobby and it was leaving his little cartoons laying around like big, demonic piles of bird droppings. They’d be on my desk or on the floor under Dare’s. He’d leave them in the aisles or just on top of a random desk. I wasn’t sure any more whether it was to get at me or Mr. Wagner or both.
“What are you doing?” Dare hissed at me while I fished yet another stupid cartoon out from under her boot and crumpled it up. “Ignore it. He’ll stop.”
“I don’t want him to see them.”
“Him, who?” She snorted and took the paper from me. She glanced at it before giving it the Dare treatment. She shook the ashes onto the floor and wiped her hands on her jeans.
“Him.” I nodded at Mr. Wagner who was busy collecting papers from everyone as they filed out the door.
“He’s a big boy, Morgan.” She shook her head. “He’s probably seen a lot worse in his day, looking like that. He can take it.”
“It’s just…” I’d never told her about my dad taking me to Father Parker for an exorcism. He thought I was possessed. That my double was an actual demon and not some mutant power. Father Parker had set him straight and called Professor Xavier. But I’m not sure if my dad was ever completely convinced. “This is supposed to be a safe place for us. For all of us. Not just the ones that can pass. Asshole.”
“Want me to invite Birdshit to a weenie roast?” She would, too. I wouldn’t even have to bat my eyelashes at her. All I had to do was ask. “Maybe show him what a little hellfire really looks like.”
“No. Don’t get in trouble over this. Faye and I will keep cleaning it up until he gets tired of it.”
“Shit. You’ve got it bad for little boy blue over there.”
“Yeah. Sure. You got me.” I gave her a shove toward the door. “Go scare the freshmen for a while or something.”
“Freshmen?” She snorted, but she left. “I eat them for breakfast.”
There were at least a dozen times over the next two weeks when I seriously considered telling Dare I’d changed my mind about that weenie roast. The pictures kept coming, two, three, four, sometimes even five a day. We went on cleaning them up and I kept hoping he’d get bored with the game before I slipped up and missed one.
Eventually I did miss one. We’d rushed through the routine because Haley had managed to schedule us an hour in the gym so we could practice together. Not the Danger Room. That was for “official” teams . We weren’t even close to official as a team. But she and Roxxy did train with the official teams, at least part of the time. Haley was working it for all she was worth; getting us whatever space she could find when she could get it.
How was training going? I was getting my ass kicked. And Dare was bored to death when she wasn’t laughing her ass off at me. Most of the time she had to hold off on actually using her powers because the spaces we did rate weren’t fire proof.
Yeah. It sucked. We were still trying to find a fifth. Roxxy was almost certain it would improve our chances. Something about mission success versus team size and power. The short version was that we needed another heavy hitter or someone who could fly to round us out. Know anyone? We’d even consider dropping the whole girl power deal and taking on a guy at this point.
But that’s got nothing to do with anything except as an explanation for why we missed that one stupid cartoon. I was late to our tutoring session. I found him sitting at his desk, just staring at something in front of him.
“Hey. I’m sorry I’m late.” He didn’t react to me. Or at least he didn’t acknowledge me.
“Oh crap.” It was Faye. My double. She’d appeared just beside his desk. She actually reached out to grab the sheet of paper and he pulled it away. I heard a soft thump-thump-thump and it took me an extra beat to realize it was his tail knocking against the floorboards beneath his chair. “I’m sorry, Morgan. I missed one.” Faye gave me this helpless look just before she vanished.
“Oh, crap.” I echoed and dropped my bag. “Mr. Wagner?” The image bloomed in my head as Faye gave it to me: Mr. Wagner-as-Demon, pitchfork, pentagram, and students being tortured with giant books. Stupid shit as usual. At least I wasn’t in this one.
“Morgan.” He finally spoke my name. His tone wasn’t something I’d ever heard from him before. Cold, angry and sort of like he was swallowing my name rather than speaking it. “What do you know of this?” He wadded up the paper and then started smoothing it back out. “Did you do this?”
“What? Me?” My jaw dropped. “No. No way.”
“Then explain how your doppelganger ‘missed one’.” I think he was so angry that he was afraid to say much. I didn’t know if he was that angry about the stupid picture or that angry because he thought I had something to do with it.
“She…I…we’ve been getting rid of them. So nobody would see them. We missed one. I’m sorry.”
“There have been more?” There was that thumping again. It made me nervous. My stomach seemed to be cramping in time with the thumps. I swallowed hard and took a few more steps.
“Yeah.” I got close enough so that I could have reached out to touch him if I wanted to. “There were more.”
“Who?” He was quiet for a long time, his eyes moving from desk to desk, then to me and back to the empty desks again. “Your friend, Dare?”
“No. She wouldn’t. She’d just burn something if she wanted to get back at you for something.” I reached out to touch the back of the hand that rested on the picture. “It’s stupid and mean. I thought it would stop if no one saw them.”
“Mean.” He nodded, his hand tense under mine. “You do not know who?”
“I…” The asshole deserved to get caught. Busted. But then I’d be a snitch. “I know. But I didn’t want to snitch and I really did think it would stop.”
“It is just a drawing.” He crumpled it up and tossed it in the trash, pulling away from me. “But you should choose your friends better.”
“He’s not my friend.” I sighed and leaned my elbows on the desk. “I was in some of those pictures. He’s a dick.”
“But you will not give me the name?”
“No. I just want it to stop.” I ducked my head, letting my hair fall over my face, wishing I could really hide behind it. “The pictures…I…I over-reacted. I let him see how much it bugged me. It has to be that, because he couldn’t know.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The Professor didn’t tell you how he found out about me?” I was never sure if he’d told the other staff or not. I never knew if some of them believed it or felt sorry for me. Or…Just knew. Just the idea of them knowing made my skin crawl.
“Nein. I assumed he used Cerebro to find you.”
“No. He didn’t.” I looked up at him through my hair, still hiding. Still wanting to hide. It was stupid and childish but I did. “I was referred by the family priest. My Dad’s a devout Catholic and he thought…He wanted…He was scared of me.”
“No. He was scared of me.” That was Faye. She reappeared, perching on top of Timothy’s desk. I think I flinched. “Morgan’s Dad tried to talk the priest into doing an exorcism. Ungrateful bastard. I save his life and he decides I’m the devil’s spawn.”
“Don’t start.” I closed my eyes covered my face with both hands. “Please, don’t.”
“An exorcism?” There was a hand on my shoulder, warm and strong. “Such things are rarely done.”
“That’s what Father Parker said.” I froze, my eyes flying open. It was the first time he’d actually touched me on purpose. “I don’t want people to know. Enough people think I’m crazy. I don’t need that. I don’t want that. I don’t care so much about the dirty ones. It’s the ones like that.” I rocked the wastebasket with one toe. “I just want it to stop.”
“Morgan.” The hand on my shoulder squeezed a little harder and I winced slightly. Haley hadn’t exactly been gentle and I hadn’t exactly stayed on the mats. I felt like one big bruise. Maybe next time we could get a padded room. You know if I just acted a little crazier, right? “Tell me who it is and I will put an end to it.”
“She won’t tell you.” Faye tapped the side of the desk with one heel hard enough to make a muffled booming noise. “But I will. Timothy ‘Birdshit’ Miller.”
“Faye!”
“There. Now he knows and you’ve got a clear conscience.” She thumped the desk again. Then she said something in German that was too fast for me to follow and disappeared.
“What did she say?” I asked, not sure I wanted to know.
“You do not know?”
“No. I don’t.”
“She told me to put a stop it or she will do it herself.”
“Oh. That sounds like her. I just don’t usually get it in German.” Add that to the list of weird shit that happens in my life. “I’d, uh, appreciate it if you didn’t mention the whole exorcism thing. I haven’t told anyone. Not even Dare.”
“I understand. I will take care of it. Do not worry, liebchen.”
I suppose he did understand. And he did take care of it. There were no more notes. And Timothy switched classes. I never took a class with him again. So I never did find out exactly what Faye would have done. That’s probably a good thing.
~*~
You know, I’d like to say that I managed to nail him the very next week. But that’s not how it happened. No. I got nailed repeatedly. Haley’s fist. Roxxy’s cougar form. Dare’s boot. I got thrown into a treadmill. I got buried in a pile of exercise mats. I nearly slid face-first into a weight bench. Haley was sure she was just days away from getting us Danger Room time and she wasn’t letting up for anything.
I was starting to feel more like comic relief than a super hero. Ouch. I had to reschedule my sessions with Mr. Wagner a couple of times. And when I went, I really did study. And tried not to face-plant in my books. How sexy would that be? Snoring and drooling into my German book. Ugh.
Haley wasn’t letting up on the team. And I totally wasn’t letting up on my grades. I’d just gotten the best report card I’d had since starting at Xavier’s. Straight A’s. I added a copy of that to my letter to my parents, asking if I could please come home for Thanksgiving. I went all out with the “I miss you’s” and “I love you’s”. If that didn’t get me a plane ticket home, then I had my answer.
I suppose I was a little burnt out. And that’s why I was a bit slow on the uptake the next time Mr. Wagner gave me an opening. Getting my ass kicked almost daily had left me feeling like one big, stiff ache. I guess it showed.
“I don’t think I quite got that.” I rubbed at the back of my neck and rolled my shoulders, trying to loosen up some of the knots. “Can you go over it again?”
“Perhaps you need a break.” He was behind me and I was startled to feel his hands on my shoulders. “You have been training hard, yes?”
“Yeah.” I sighed. “I think maybe I make a better practice dummy than an X-Man.”
“Stiff? Sore?” His hands moved slightly, sort of restless.
“Very.”
“Perhaps I can help. May I?”
“Um…Sure. Please.” He brushed my hair out of the way and I almost shivered. I stifled it. Not hard. I wasn’t feeling all that frisky right then. Then his hands began to knead at my shoulders and up the back of my neck. His touch was really firm and his hands were strong. At first it hurt, that is until the knots started to loosen up. Then it was just pure heaven. “God. That feels good.”
“I have had my share of stiff muscles and bruises.” His hands kept moving, ranging a little farther out, down my back and onto my upper arms.
“I’ll bet.” I groaned softly as he unwound a particularly tight knot.
“If you continue like this, there will be many more bruises. Perhaps worse.”
“Probably worse.” I agreed.
“May I ask you something Morgan?”
“You can ask me just about anything you want as long as you don’t stop.” He chuckled softly and I found that I really liked the sound.
“Why do you want to be an X-Man?”
“Why wouldn’t I want to be an X-Man?” Me and my big mouth, right?
“That is not an answer, Morgan. It is a dangerous occupation. There should be a good reason.”
“You don’t think I can do it.” I started to stiffen, but his hands were just too soothing. I couldn’t seem to work up the necessary tension.
“I do not question your ability. I simply asked why? Why do this? Or why now and not later?”
I don’t know why I answered him then. Why I gave him the truth and not some happy lie that would get him off my back. Maybe it was because he already knew my worst secret. Maybe I just needed to tell someone. Hell if I know.
“There are some powers you can turn on and off. Use them or ignore them. And then there are some powers that will twist you up inside if you don’t find something useful to do with them. Something positive.”
“I don’t understand. I cannot see you becoming so twisted.”
“No. Not me. Or at least not at first.” I turned my head and looked up at him over my shoulder. I couldn’t read his expression, only that he was studying me. “But if Dare goes bad, I’ll go with her.”
“Your friend again.” His hands stilled for a minute, then squeezed. “You are not your friend. You needn’t follow her.”
“No. You don’t understand.” I quit trying to look at him and just let my head fall backwards so that it rested lightly against his chest. “In some ways we’re two separate people and some ways we aren’t. We’re more and less. I dream her dreams. And they’re full of flames. She’s killed people. She already knows how to be bad. If we don’t teach her how to be good…” I didn’t know how to finish it.
“You are linked, psychically.” He squeezed me again. “But this does not mean that you must follow her, does it?”
“No. Maybe she can follow me instead.” I tilted my head a little farther back so I could see him. Upside down and almost close enough to kiss. “Maybe it works both ways. But if she knows that I’m doing it for her, she’ll get all guilty and run. Or do something stupid. I’m not sure. But there will be flames and death and I’ll follow her. I won’t be separated from her again. I won’t let her go alone.”
“Morgan…” I’m not sure what he would have said. Whatever sixth sense I have goosed me right then. I had just enough time to sit up, but not enough time to warn him that someone was coming.
“Kurt? There you are.” Shit. It was Summers. One of the last people on earth I wanted to see. The man behind me had felt me startle, but his hands tightened, keeping me in my chair. I think Summers was almost equally startled, though it was always hard to tell with those red shades of his. I really hated not being able to see his eyes. It made me feel like he was glaring at me. Probably just my imagination. Startled or not, he just stood in the doorway with his hand on the knob and the door half open.
“Yes? What is it?” Wagner’s voice was calm, mild. We weren’t doing anything at all, just talking. But my heart was pounding all the same.
“There’s a staff meeting in fifteen minutes.” He turned his head slightly and I swear I could feel his eyes on me. “Shouldn’t you be suiting up about now, Lafavre?”
“Oh my god. Haley’s going to kill me!” Haley had finally, finally, gotten us a session in the Danger Room and I was going to be late. There was no way I was going to make it on time. I pulled out of Mr. Wagner’s grasp and started trying to stuff my things back into the bag. “I’m sorry, Mr. Wagner. I’ve got to go.”
“It is my fault. I kept you over-long.” He took my arm. “I will get you there in time.”
“What?” I stopped, one book in my hand, my backpack in the other.
“Kurt…” Summers started to interrupt, but no one was really listening, I think.
“I will deliver Morgan to her session and be at the staff meeting in fifteen minutes.” He waited for me to finish shoving my book in the bag and sling it over my shoulder. Then he tugged me closer. He slipped an arm around my waist and spoke low against my ear. “Take a deep breath and hold it. The fumes are noxious.”
That sixth sense goosed me again and I clutched at him. The classroom vanished and we were somewhere else only long enough to give me an impression of weirdly lit clouds and shadows. Then we were suddenly just outside the girl’s locker room with a cloud of purplish smoke drifting around us. The transition was sort of dizzying.
“Are you all right, liebchen?” I was still holding onto him, my fingers twisting into the fabric of his sweater. “You can breathe now.” I’d forgotten I was holding my breath. I let it all out in a rush.
“Wow. That was amazing.” I couldn’t help but grin. His teeth flashed white in a bright smile. “Can we do that again? Not now. I have to go. But can we?”
“Perhaps later.” He nodded toward the door. “You should go.”
“Yeah. Thanks. Thanks so much. You’re a real life saver.”
“Good luck.”
There wasn’t any time for explanations. I had just enough time to shimmy into the standard issue black and yellow suit. You know the one that pretty much looks bad on everyone? That one. No time for explanations or thinking. Apparently the two-hour session came complete with one Mr. Logan, the slave driver from hell. That had been the hold up, getting one of the senior X-Men to run the control booth while we made idiots of ourselves.
OK. Not idiots. Idiot maybe. Haley and Roxxy did fine. Dare was scary enough to please anyone, pulling firestorms out of thin air. I spent most of my time trying not to get massacred.
It wasn’t until late that night that I had time to think. Dare was snoring softly, her head next to mine on the pillow and one knee somewhere near my kidneys. Or at least I thought that’s where they were supposed to be. I started to think and wonder.
If Summers hadn’t showed up when he did, would Mr. Wagner - Kurt --I tried the name on for size. Would Kurt have made a pass? He’d acted almost guilty. Or at least like he hadn’t wanted to talk to Summers alone. With any other guy, that massage would have led to other things. But maybe I was misinterpreting things.
I fell asleep remembering how his hands had felt on my body. The way he’d smelled. He’d felt lean and muscled and very strong under that sweater. And there was that moment, that smile. He’d shown off for me, just a little bit. It wasn’t quite flirting. But it was close. Wasn’t it?
Fandom: X-Men, Comics Universe, Earth-6916
Rating: 18+
Warnings: Graphic Sexual situations.
Disclaimer: The recognizable characters and the setting used here are the property of Marvel Comics. Those characters described as “Mutant Sues” or “Mary Sues” are the property of Ladydeathfaerie, Nanaea, Dazzledfirestar, SilverFoxChan, and Ginevra. This story takes place prior approximately a year before the events of The Mutant Sue Virus. I make no money from this work.
Authors Note: In the beginning of The Mutant Sue Virus, we find Morgan having an affair with a member of the staff and it is implied that the affair has been going on for some time. What we didn’t see was how that affair began. And that missing bit has been driving me crazy ever since. The object of Morgan’s schoolgirl fantasy is forever entangled in my mind with the works of the band, The Police. And Morgan herself comes to mind each and every time I hear “Don’t Stand So Close To Me.” I was hoping this would be a quick one-off and finally get this bunny off my back. Quick it was not. And it remains to be seen if this will really banish this particular demon-bunny completely. Warnings: Here there be graphic sex between an authority figure and a student. Here there be use of a non-standard appendage. Oral sex. Hand job. And a complete disrespect for the boundaries of a teacher-student relationship. Mild F/F content. Enjoy.
Part I: Schoolgirl Fantasy
All right. Let’s get things straight here. I did not set out to seduce my teacher on the first day of class. No matter what you might think. I did have a lot going on that year. Seriously.
To begin with, Dare was still having trouble settling in and catching up on her grades. Don’t get me wrong, she’s pretty smart. But I don’t think the gang she was running with was a big fan of school. So she had a couple of grades to make up. And we were working on that. Together. Xavier’s is a small school, so it really wasn’t hard to make sure we had the same classes.
The next big thing on my plate was “The Team.” Yeah. Haley was on a mission to lead the first all-girl X-Men field team. A team she picked for herself instead of waiting for God himself, a.k.a Professor Charles Xavier, to grant her one. We weren’t even on the training roster yet. The Danger Room was strictly off limits, but that didn’t keep “Icon” from drilling us in whatever open space she could find.
Hey! Don’t laugh. I said “us.” That would mean me, myself, and Dare. And yeah. I know what they were saying behind my back. I was on the team because that was the only way they could get someone like Dare to join up. Maybe. Maybe not. Haley and Roxxy have been my friends for years. I think they’d at least have given me a shot at it. So we’ve got four and we’re looking for a fifth. If we can just find the right girl…
Oh. But this isn’t about “The Team” right? It’s about me. And that teacher. Like I said. I didn’t set out to seduce him the first day of class. I decided it the day before I signed Dare and me up to take first year German. We needed the credits anyway.
“German?” Dare glared at the schedule like she could intimidate it into saying something else. I snatched it from her fingers before it could burst into flame. Things that Dare didn’t like tended to do that. Good thing she really liked me.
“Yes. German.”
“That’s fucking useless. Germany lost the war. Duh.”
“Well at least you remember something from History class.”
“I actually like History. It’s you that kept zoning out.”
“I didn’t. I took notes the whole time.” With my double’s help, of course. When my doppelganger was feeling helpful, she was a treasure. When she was feeling puckish - my friend Roxxy’s word, not mine - she was pure trouble. For Dare, she’d help me.
“We’re taking German. We need the credits and we’ve actually got a real, live German teaching it this year.”
“Wait? The blue guy? With the fur and the tail and the pointy teeth?”
“Yes.” Something gave me away, I’m not sure what. “Mr. Wagner. And his teeth aren’t all that pointy.”
“You want me to take German so that you can stalk this Wagner guy?”
“No. I need the language credits and so do you.”
“Then let’s take French. It’s got to be easier.”
She still tried to talk me into French, but I got my way in the end. No. I’m not telling you how. That’s between Dare and me. It did involve confessing my intentions, though.
“You’re serious, Morgan? He’s a teacher. Isn’t that going cause trouble?”
“Only if we get caught.”
“I thought we were supposed to be playing it safe, staying out of trouble.” Dare scowled at me. Then she swatted me with a pillow. “Or do you just mean I’m supposed to stay out of trouble?”
“Ow!” I tried to swat her back, but she dodged. That’s when my double piled in on the fun and we wound up giggling in a pile of pillows and blankets on the floor. When the giggles finally ran down we just cuddled where we were for a while. Don’t tell anyone, but Dare cuddles really well once the boots come off. “Seriously, Dare. I’ll be careful. I’ve got my own built-in lookout. I won’t get caught.”
“You’d better not.” She growled, but she snuggled closer. “If you get yourself kicked out, I won’t last another week here. You can go home, but I’ve got nowhere left to go.”
“I won’t get caught. But even if I did, it’d be his ass in the sling not mine.”
“That’s cold, Morgan.”
“Maybe. But it’s the truth.” Or at least part of it. It seemed to make Dare feel safer to think that I’d have somewhere to go if she screwed up bad enough to get us both kicked out. Because there was no way I’d let her go without me. No way I was going to lose her again. But I wasn’t really sure I could go home. Not any more.
I hadn’t been home once since my folks had packed me up and put me on a plane. I got cards, letters, pictures and cash. But never a plane ticket or an invitation to come home for the holidays. Not once in the more than two years I’d been there. Dare hadn’t been there a year yet and she didn’t know. I hadn’t told her.
I’d quit asking to come home once Dare got there. I was afraid to leave her alone. Afraid she wouldn’t be there when I came back. But this time I was going to ask. I wanted to go home. Not to stay, but for a visit. To see my brother before he moved out and got married. I wanted to hug my Mom and let my Dad try to explain football to me one more time. I wanted to see if my room was still my room or if they’d made it over into a guest room or something else. I wanted to see for myself whether or not it was still my home.
“Let’s throw all this shit back on the bed and go to sleep.”
“OK. I suppose we can’t stay up all night. Classes start tomorrow.”
“Don’t remind me.”
~*~
I can’t say that German is exactly a fascinating language or anything. But listening to “Herr Wagner” speak it was fascinating. OK. Maybe it was just me and my adolescent hormones. But I was fascinated.
That first day I think half of the class was actually afraid of him. I guess I can see it. Of all the mutants that lived at Xavier’s, “Nightcrawler” was one of the least human looking. He was covered in short fur that always made me think of velvet and was this very deep, dark blue that was almost black but wasn’t. When you caught his face in shadow, his eyes seemed to be glowing amber lights. He moved like a dancer or a cat and I couldn’t help but wonder what he looked like underneath his clothes. His tail had a sort of triangular shape on the end of it that always made me think of the Ace of Spades. Yes. I said tail. It was long enough to brush the floor and it was always in motion. That all by itself was totally fascinating.
OK. So maybe I couldn’t really see why people thought he was frightening. He did have pointed teeth. Though I think calling them fangs was a bit much. I admit that his hands and feet were really different, only three digits instead of five. And he did sort of resemble a Hollywood-style demon, minus the horns and pitchfork. A little bit. But he was just too nice and friendly to think of that way.
No. He didn’t look very human. But I thought he was beautiful. Maybe I’m a little weird. But if you really looked at him, looked at him as being exactly the way God made him and quit trying to make him fit into what you thought of as “human” - he really was beautiful.
“Riiiiight. Beautiful.” Dare rolled her eyes at me and dug an elbow in my ribs. “Pay attention. I can’t copy your notes later if you’re too busy drooling over the Prince of Darkness to pay attention to what he’s actually saying.”
“Why don’t you take your own notes?” I grumbled and tapped my pencil against the edge of my desk.
“That would ruin my image as a fuck-school-I-don’t-need-it badass.”
“Oh. Of course. What about my image as an empty-headed slut?” I rolled my own eyes at her, but I started copying down the next line anyway.
“Empty-headed bimbo.” Dare shifted in her seat and one boot hit the desk in front of her hard enough to make a noticeable thud. “Nobody calls my girl a slut.”
“Slut, bimbo… What’s the difference?”
“About five hundred degrees.” Dare grumbled and glared at the boy in front of her. He’d turned around to object to having his seat kicked. He turned back around without saying anything. “Make sure you get that last line. It sounds kind of important.”
“Yes, Miss Badass.”
~*~
I was good that first week or so. I took my notes, did my homework, helped Dare with hers. I raised my hand and asked questions. Made sure he saw me there every day. Hell, I made sure he called my name at least twice a class partly because just hearing him say it sent a thrill down my spine. I was pretty sure he liked me. As a student, I mean.
The second week I started to turn it up a notch. My skirts got shorter and my sweaters got tighter. I found excuses to get closer to him, coming up to his desk to ask questions rather than just raising my hand. Nothing too over the top. Not yet. And definitely not in front of witnesses. I wasn’t planning on getting caught.
By the third week I was coming to class early and leaving late. I’d have a question ready or just help straighten up. He was starting to get used to me being there. I think he was actually waiting for me to show up sometimes. I even “confessed” that I was tutoring Dare, trying to help her catch up for the years of school she’d missed while she was running around with the gang. He liked that. He liked that a lot.
“That is very admirable. Why don’t you bring your friend tomorrow afternoon and we will go over the unit together.”
“Dare really doesn’t want anyone to know.” I gave him my best helpless shrug. If I do it just right and my blouse is unbuttoned far enough, it flashes. I hadn’t caught him looking yet. But I was sure I caught his tail twitching when I did it. “She’s really embarrassed about it. She gets into enough fights as it is.”
“If she wishes to improve her grades, she should come herself.” He was busy wiping down the chalkboard. I watched his tail swish back and forth while he did it. That was happening more and more often. I was pretty sure that meant I was getting to him. I waited until he turned back around.
“You won’t help me?” I leaned over his desk and gave him big, sincere eyes and a nice view down my blouse. I bit my lip for good measure. I did catch him that time. It was just a tiny one, but he looked. I know he did. “Please?”
“Tomorrow at four.” Now that I’d caught him looking, he wouldn’t look at me again. His eyes kept moving around as he fiddled with papers on his desk. “Don’t be late.”
“I won’t.” I stood up and scooped my books up. He finally looked at me again. I flashed him a smile. “Thanks, Mr. Wagner.”
“You are welcome.”
Things were going just about perfect then. I had him all to myself for almost an hour after school for two days a week. When we ran out of German to work on, I pulled out my math or my history book. He was willing to help me with just about anything I asked. Like I said, he was a really nice guy. And it actually did help me with Dare. Honest.
By the fourth week I’d started sneaking a few touches in here and there. I’d touch his arm or the back of his hand to get his attention. I’d brush up against him while we looked at a book together. I found out his fur really did feel like velvet. Really soft and fine and warm. And he always had this unusual smell about him.
I guess it was that “brimstone” stuff from his teleporting. I hadn’t seen him do that yet. But, I had seen him use his tail to grab things like books or his briefcase. Or to pull a chair closer. When it was just the two of us, he would relax some and do things like that. Oh yeah. I guess brimstone smell was kind of unpleasant, but you got used to it after a while.
Like I said. Things were going pretty well for me. My grades were good, Dare’s were getting better, and I’d have Herr Wagner eating out of the palm of my hand any day. That’s when Timothy Miller started passing me notes.
Who was he? Nobody worth mentioning. Usually. He was pretty average looking. Brown hair, brown eyes, not particularly tall or short. Average. He did have a minor telepathic ability. Really minor. He could control the mind of a bird. Not control the minds of birds. A bird. One at a time. His favorite thing to do with it when he thought nobody would catch him was to make the poor thing slam headfirst into the nearest windowpane. He liked to call himself “Birdshot.” Dare liked to call him “Birdshit.” I just refused to call him. Some guys don’t take that too well.
I guess he’d noticed my spending the extra time with Mr. Wagner. What was in the notes? Pictures. He was a lot better at drawing than he was at controlling birds. The girl in the picture actually looked like me and the guy was obviously Mr. Wagner. It started with “me” kissing Mr. Wagner’s ass and went downhill from there.
“Shit.” I groaned as the third picture of the day slid right past my shoulder to cover my notebook. I flipped a glare over my shoulder at the grinning asshole. I crumpled it up and shoved it in my backpack and tried to concentrate on my work. The next one came with a tap on my shoulder just to make sure I didn’t miss it. I almost let it fall to the floor, but when I caught sight of what was on it -- No. I didn’t want anyone to see that one.
I managed to catch it before it hit the ground. I wadded it up in both hands, squeezing it down until I felt my knuckles creak. If looks could kill, Timothy Miller would have been nothing but a little puddle of pigeon shit. But he just laughed at me. I ground my teeth and reached out to Dare. I pressed the wad of paper into her palm and held it there.
“Burn it.” I hissed.
“Huh? We’re in the middle of class.”
“Burn it. Now.” Some of the other students had noticed something was going on and they were turning to look at us. I did not want Mr. Wagner to see this.
“All right. But you told me to do it.” She smirked at me, then turned her gaze on good old Tim. A few locks of her hair trembled against her shoulders and her palm got warmer and warmer under mine. I could smell the paper burning and I felt the heat. But it didn’t burn me. It didn’t even hurt. It felt…I don’t know how to describe it. But it didn’t hurt. When it was nothing but ash, she pulled her hand out of mine and let the ashes drift to the floor. She waggled her sooty fingers at Tim. Then she leaned over to whisper. “So what was in the picture?”
“Don’t ask.” I wished I could unsee it. Remember that I’d said that Mr. Wagner looked sort of like Hollywood’s idea of a demon? The asshole had taken the ball and run with it. Pitchfork, horns, pentagrams, a truly evil expression that I could never, ever, picture on the real man’s face if I hadn’t seen the drawing. It made my blood boil and my stomach twist into knots.
Later I figured out that letting him see how much it bothered me was a mistake. A big one. Birdshit had a new hobby and it was leaving his little cartoons laying around like big, demonic piles of bird droppings. They’d be on my desk or on the floor under Dare’s. He’d leave them in the aisles or just on top of a random desk. I wasn’t sure any more whether it was to get at me or Mr. Wagner or both.
“What are you doing?” Dare hissed at me while I fished yet another stupid cartoon out from under her boot and crumpled it up. “Ignore it. He’ll stop.”
“I don’t want him to see them.”
“Him, who?” She snorted and took the paper from me. She glanced at it before giving it the Dare treatment. She shook the ashes onto the floor and wiped her hands on her jeans.
“Him.” I nodded at Mr. Wagner who was busy collecting papers from everyone as they filed out the door.
“He’s a big boy, Morgan.” She shook her head. “He’s probably seen a lot worse in his day, looking like that. He can take it.”
“It’s just…” I’d never told her about my dad taking me to Father Parker for an exorcism. He thought I was possessed. That my double was an actual demon and not some mutant power. Father Parker had set him straight and called Professor Xavier. But I’m not sure if my dad was ever completely convinced. “This is supposed to be a safe place for us. For all of us. Not just the ones that can pass. Asshole.”
“Want me to invite Birdshit to a weenie roast?” She would, too. I wouldn’t even have to bat my eyelashes at her. All I had to do was ask. “Maybe show him what a little hellfire really looks like.”
“No. Don’t get in trouble over this. Faye and I will keep cleaning it up until he gets tired of it.”
“Shit. You’ve got it bad for little boy blue over there.”
“Yeah. Sure. You got me.” I gave her a shove toward the door. “Go scare the freshmen for a while or something.”
“Freshmen?” She snorted, but she left. “I eat them for breakfast.”
There were at least a dozen times over the next two weeks when I seriously considered telling Dare I’d changed my mind about that weenie roast. The pictures kept coming, two, three, four, sometimes even five a day. We went on cleaning them up and I kept hoping he’d get bored with the game before I slipped up and missed one.
Eventually I did miss one. We’d rushed through the routine because Haley had managed to schedule us an hour in the gym so we could practice together. Not the Danger Room. That was for “official” teams . We weren’t even close to official as a team. But she and Roxxy did train with the official teams, at least part of the time. Haley was working it for all she was worth; getting us whatever space she could find when she could get it.
How was training going? I was getting my ass kicked. And Dare was bored to death when she wasn’t laughing her ass off at me. Most of the time she had to hold off on actually using her powers because the spaces we did rate weren’t fire proof.
Yeah. It sucked. We were still trying to find a fifth. Roxxy was almost certain it would improve our chances. Something about mission success versus team size and power. The short version was that we needed another heavy hitter or someone who could fly to round us out. Know anyone? We’d even consider dropping the whole girl power deal and taking on a guy at this point.
But that’s got nothing to do with anything except as an explanation for why we missed that one stupid cartoon. I was late to our tutoring session. I found him sitting at his desk, just staring at something in front of him.
“Hey. I’m sorry I’m late.” He didn’t react to me. Or at least he didn’t acknowledge me.
“Oh crap.” It was Faye. My double. She’d appeared just beside his desk. She actually reached out to grab the sheet of paper and he pulled it away. I heard a soft thump-thump-thump and it took me an extra beat to realize it was his tail knocking against the floorboards beneath his chair. “I’m sorry, Morgan. I missed one.” Faye gave me this helpless look just before she vanished.
“Oh, crap.” I echoed and dropped my bag. “Mr. Wagner?” The image bloomed in my head as Faye gave it to me: Mr. Wagner-as-Demon, pitchfork, pentagram, and students being tortured with giant books. Stupid shit as usual. At least I wasn’t in this one.
“Morgan.” He finally spoke my name. His tone wasn’t something I’d ever heard from him before. Cold, angry and sort of like he was swallowing my name rather than speaking it. “What do you know of this?” He wadded up the paper and then started smoothing it back out. “Did you do this?”
“What? Me?” My jaw dropped. “No. No way.”
“Then explain how your doppelganger ‘missed one’.” I think he was so angry that he was afraid to say much. I didn’t know if he was that angry about the stupid picture or that angry because he thought I had something to do with it.
“She…I…we’ve been getting rid of them. So nobody would see them. We missed one. I’m sorry.”
“There have been more?” There was that thumping again. It made me nervous. My stomach seemed to be cramping in time with the thumps. I swallowed hard and took a few more steps.
“Yeah.” I got close enough so that I could have reached out to touch him if I wanted to. “There were more.”
“Who?” He was quiet for a long time, his eyes moving from desk to desk, then to me and back to the empty desks again. “Your friend, Dare?”
“No. She wouldn’t. She’d just burn something if she wanted to get back at you for something.” I reached out to touch the back of the hand that rested on the picture. “It’s stupid and mean. I thought it would stop if no one saw them.”
“Mean.” He nodded, his hand tense under mine. “You do not know who?”
“I…” The asshole deserved to get caught. Busted. But then I’d be a snitch. “I know. But I didn’t want to snitch and I really did think it would stop.”
“It is just a drawing.” He crumpled it up and tossed it in the trash, pulling away from me. “But you should choose your friends better.”
“He’s not my friend.” I sighed and leaned my elbows on the desk. “I was in some of those pictures. He’s a dick.”
“But you will not give me the name?”
“No. I just want it to stop.” I ducked my head, letting my hair fall over my face, wishing I could really hide behind it. “The pictures…I…I over-reacted. I let him see how much it bugged me. It has to be that, because he couldn’t know.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The Professor didn’t tell you how he found out about me?” I was never sure if he’d told the other staff or not. I never knew if some of them believed it or felt sorry for me. Or…Just knew. Just the idea of them knowing made my skin crawl.
“Nein. I assumed he used Cerebro to find you.”
“No. He didn’t.” I looked up at him through my hair, still hiding. Still wanting to hide. It was stupid and childish but I did. “I was referred by the family priest. My Dad’s a devout Catholic and he thought…He wanted…He was scared of me.”
“No. He was scared of me.” That was Faye. She reappeared, perching on top of Timothy’s desk. I think I flinched. “Morgan’s Dad tried to talk the priest into doing an exorcism. Ungrateful bastard. I save his life and he decides I’m the devil’s spawn.”
“Don’t start.” I closed my eyes covered my face with both hands. “Please, don’t.”
“An exorcism?” There was a hand on my shoulder, warm and strong. “Such things are rarely done.”
“That’s what Father Parker said.” I froze, my eyes flying open. It was the first time he’d actually touched me on purpose. “I don’t want people to know. Enough people think I’m crazy. I don’t need that. I don’t want that. I don’t care so much about the dirty ones. It’s the ones like that.” I rocked the wastebasket with one toe. “I just want it to stop.”
“Morgan.” The hand on my shoulder squeezed a little harder and I winced slightly. Haley hadn’t exactly been gentle and I hadn’t exactly stayed on the mats. I felt like one big bruise. Maybe next time we could get a padded room. You know if I just acted a little crazier, right? “Tell me who it is and I will put an end to it.”
“She won’t tell you.” Faye tapped the side of the desk with one heel hard enough to make a muffled booming noise. “But I will. Timothy ‘Birdshit’ Miller.”
“Faye!”
“There. Now he knows and you’ve got a clear conscience.” She thumped the desk again. Then she said something in German that was too fast for me to follow and disappeared.
“What did she say?” I asked, not sure I wanted to know.
“You do not know?”
“No. I don’t.”
“She told me to put a stop it or she will do it herself.”
“Oh. That sounds like her. I just don’t usually get it in German.” Add that to the list of weird shit that happens in my life. “I’d, uh, appreciate it if you didn’t mention the whole exorcism thing. I haven’t told anyone. Not even Dare.”
“I understand. I will take care of it. Do not worry, liebchen.”
I suppose he did understand. And he did take care of it. There were no more notes. And Timothy switched classes. I never took a class with him again. So I never did find out exactly what Faye would have done. That’s probably a good thing.
~*~
You know, I’d like to say that I managed to nail him the very next week. But that’s not how it happened. No. I got nailed repeatedly. Haley’s fist. Roxxy’s cougar form. Dare’s boot. I got thrown into a treadmill. I got buried in a pile of exercise mats. I nearly slid face-first into a weight bench. Haley was sure she was just days away from getting us Danger Room time and she wasn’t letting up for anything.
I was starting to feel more like comic relief than a super hero. Ouch. I had to reschedule my sessions with Mr. Wagner a couple of times. And when I went, I really did study. And tried not to face-plant in my books. How sexy would that be? Snoring and drooling into my German book. Ugh.
Haley wasn’t letting up on the team. And I totally wasn’t letting up on my grades. I’d just gotten the best report card I’d had since starting at Xavier’s. Straight A’s. I added a copy of that to my letter to my parents, asking if I could please come home for Thanksgiving. I went all out with the “I miss you’s” and “I love you’s”. If that didn’t get me a plane ticket home, then I had my answer.
I suppose I was a little burnt out. And that’s why I was a bit slow on the uptake the next time Mr. Wagner gave me an opening. Getting my ass kicked almost daily had left me feeling like one big, stiff ache. I guess it showed.
“I don’t think I quite got that.” I rubbed at the back of my neck and rolled my shoulders, trying to loosen up some of the knots. “Can you go over it again?”
“Perhaps you need a break.” He was behind me and I was startled to feel his hands on my shoulders. “You have been training hard, yes?”
“Yeah.” I sighed. “I think maybe I make a better practice dummy than an X-Man.”
“Stiff? Sore?” His hands moved slightly, sort of restless.
“Very.”
“Perhaps I can help. May I?”
“Um…Sure. Please.” He brushed my hair out of the way and I almost shivered. I stifled it. Not hard. I wasn’t feeling all that frisky right then. Then his hands began to knead at my shoulders and up the back of my neck. His touch was really firm and his hands were strong. At first it hurt, that is until the knots started to loosen up. Then it was just pure heaven. “God. That feels good.”
“I have had my share of stiff muscles and bruises.” His hands kept moving, ranging a little farther out, down my back and onto my upper arms.
“I’ll bet.” I groaned softly as he unwound a particularly tight knot.
“If you continue like this, there will be many more bruises. Perhaps worse.”
“Probably worse.” I agreed.
“May I ask you something Morgan?”
“You can ask me just about anything you want as long as you don’t stop.” He chuckled softly and I found that I really liked the sound.
“Why do you want to be an X-Man?”
“Why wouldn’t I want to be an X-Man?” Me and my big mouth, right?
“That is not an answer, Morgan. It is a dangerous occupation. There should be a good reason.”
“You don’t think I can do it.” I started to stiffen, but his hands were just too soothing. I couldn’t seem to work up the necessary tension.
“I do not question your ability. I simply asked why? Why do this? Or why now and not later?”
I don’t know why I answered him then. Why I gave him the truth and not some happy lie that would get him off my back. Maybe it was because he already knew my worst secret. Maybe I just needed to tell someone. Hell if I know.
“There are some powers you can turn on and off. Use them or ignore them. And then there are some powers that will twist you up inside if you don’t find something useful to do with them. Something positive.”
“I don’t understand. I cannot see you becoming so twisted.”
“No. Not me. Or at least not at first.” I turned my head and looked up at him over my shoulder. I couldn’t read his expression, only that he was studying me. “But if Dare goes bad, I’ll go with her.”
“Your friend again.” His hands stilled for a minute, then squeezed. “You are not your friend. You needn’t follow her.”
“No. You don’t understand.” I quit trying to look at him and just let my head fall backwards so that it rested lightly against his chest. “In some ways we’re two separate people and some ways we aren’t. We’re more and less. I dream her dreams. And they’re full of flames. She’s killed people. She already knows how to be bad. If we don’t teach her how to be good…” I didn’t know how to finish it.
“You are linked, psychically.” He squeezed me again. “But this does not mean that you must follow her, does it?”
“No. Maybe she can follow me instead.” I tilted my head a little farther back so I could see him. Upside down and almost close enough to kiss. “Maybe it works both ways. But if she knows that I’m doing it for her, she’ll get all guilty and run. Or do something stupid. I’m not sure. But there will be flames and death and I’ll follow her. I won’t be separated from her again. I won’t let her go alone.”
“Morgan…” I’m not sure what he would have said. Whatever sixth sense I have goosed me right then. I had just enough time to sit up, but not enough time to warn him that someone was coming.
“Kurt? There you are.” Shit. It was Summers. One of the last people on earth I wanted to see. The man behind me had felt me startle, but his hands tightened, keeping me in my chair. I think Summers was almost equally startled, though it was always hard to tell with those red shades of his. I really hated not being able to see his eyes. It made me feel like he was glaring at me. Probably just my imagination. Startled or not, he just stood in the doorway with his hand on the knob and the door half open.
“Yes? What is it?” Wagner’s voice was calm, mild. We weren’t doing anything at all, just talking. But my heart was pounding all the same.
“There’s a staff meeting in fifteen minutes.” He turned his head slightly and I swear I could feel his eyes on me. “Shouldn’t you be suiting up about now, Lafavre?”
“Oh my god. Haley’s going to kill me!” Haley had finally, finally, gotten us a session in the Danger Room and I was going to be late. There was no way I was going to make it on time. I pulled out of Mr. Wagner’s grasp and started trying to stuff my things back into the bag. “I’m sorry, Mr. Wagner. I’ve got to go.”
“It is my fault. I kept you over-long.” He took my arm. “I will get you there in time.”
“What?” I stopped, one book in my hand, my backpack in the other.
“Kurt…” Summers started to interrupt, but no one was really listening, I think.
“I will deliver Morgan to her session and be at the staff meeting in fifteen minutes.” He waited for me to finish shoving my book in the bag and sling it over my shoulder. Then he tugged me closer. He slipped an arm around my waist and spoke low against my ear. “Take a deep breath and hold it. The fumes are noxious.”
That sixth sense goosed me again and I clutched at him. The classroom vanished and we were somewhere else only long enough to give me an impression of weirdly lit clouds and shadows. Then we were suddenly just outside the girl’s locker room with a cloud of purplish smoke drifting around us. The transition was sort of dizzying.
“Are you all right, liebchen?” I was still holding onto him, my fingers twisting into the fabric of his sweater. “You can breathe now.” I’d forgotten I was holding my breath. I let it all out in a rush.
“Wow. That was amazing.” I couldn’t help but grin. His teeth flashed white in a bright smile. “Can we do that again? Not now. I have to go. But can we?”
“Perhaps later.” He nodded toward the door. “You should go.”
“Yeah. Thanks. Thanks so much. You’re a real life saver.”
“Good luck.”
There wasn’t any time for explanations. I had just enough time to shimmy into the standard issue black and yellow suit. You know the one that pretty much looks bad on everyone? That one. No time for explanations or thinking. Apparently the two-hour session came complete with one Mr. Logan, the slave driver from hell. That had been the hold up, getting one of the senior X-Men to run the control booth while we made idiots of ourselves.
OK. Not idiots. Idiot maybe. Haley and Roxxy did fine. Dare was scary enough to please anyone, pulling firestorms out of thin air. I spent most of my time trying not to get massacred.
It wasn’t until late that night that I had time to think. Dare was snoring softly, her head next to mine on the pillow and one knee somewhere near my kidneys. Or at least I thought that’s where they were supposed to be. I started to think and wonder.
If Summers hadn’t showed up when he did, would Mr. Wagner - Kurt --I tried the name on for size. Would Kurt have made a pass? He’d acted almost guilty. Or at least like he hadn’t wanted to talk to Summers alone. With any other guy, that massage would have led to other things. But maybe I was misinterpreting things.
I fell asleep remembering how his hands had felt on my body. The way he’d smelled. He’d felt lean and muscled and very strong under that sweater. And there was that moment, that smile. He’d shown off for me, just a little bit. It wasn’t quite flirting. But it was close. Wasn’t it?