He had contacted them shortly after he left. He told them all that he'd be gone for a few days, because he had something very personal to take care of, and to only contact him in the event of another emergency.
Which, thankfully, there wasn't.
No one questioned him, because they all knew how much he hated to be questioned. And they knew he'd
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Her eyes eagerly swept the X-Mansion to see who was about for her to greet.
And, of course, there was one mind that she couldn't wait to contact - the one that would appreciate a telepathic hello before a physical meeting.
Charles! Her exuberance was clear. I'm back!
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What she pulled out was rather stereotypical, but she didn't care. She opened the jar without touching it and popped a pickle in her mouth, not bothering to move from the fridge or close the door. No one was going to complain about her here.
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She moved over to a cabinet and took down a mug. Rachel was then very disappointed to find out that there was no fresh coffee in the pot. Not one to be deterred, Rachel just made a new pot of very strong coffee.1
While she waited for the coffee to brew, she turned her attention back to Lorna. "Thought of a name yet?" Tact? No.
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1. Rachel makes a way better cup of coffee than Moira, thank you. You may be thinking that it could probably be used to grease Jubilee's roller skates. It's drinkable! She just likes a strong flavor. And no one makes as bad a cup of coffee as Moira does. It is fact.
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"Name?" Jean looks a little crestfallen. "Have I really been gone that long?"
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And then she heard Jean's voice and looked like a deer in the headlights, only she was the slightly pregnant Mistress of Magnetism in the fridge light with a pickle in hand.
That she almost dropped, "Jean?!"
Coming back from the dead may have been something that happened from time to time here but it didn't make it any less of a miracle, "Oh my god! You're alive!"
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"Hmmm," he mused, "could it be? Have I really developed a diet soda that doesn't let you down in the flavor department? Or have I just struck another useless and bland dead end?"
Hank got into some strange projects in his so-called spare time.
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OH my stars and garters! Jean? Is it true? Is it a dream, a hoax, an imaginary story?
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Thus far, she was kicking ass.
Deep within her, something dark rumbled.
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