Scott and Alison, Tuesday morning

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

A review of new Danger Room scenarios turns into a very odd conversation about taking over the world, turtles with adamantium claws, and stealing Magneto's underwear. Proof positive that at least two of the three X-Men team leaders are completely insane. We're still holding out hope for Ororo.


"Evil woman," Scott said with relish, looking up from the screen and across the Situation Room to where Alison was sitting, skimming through the scenario parameters he'd let her take a look at. "I made well when I made you, didn't I?" he teased.

The comment drew a snicker, though Alison was perfectly serious in expression when she answered. "Turning a poor innocent into an instrument of pure evil!" The last words were said in a sinister tone and accompanied by an evil grin. Which flipped back to prim and proper in a heartbeat. "Well, that and I'm just good at it." The scenario parameters were drawing cheerfully approving looks from her too, none of them which would have been reassuring for anyone the scenario was aimed at.

Scott shook his head. "This looks fine to me," he said, indicating her scenario. "I don't even have any amendments to suggest. Although I think, probably, full-disclosure for this one? Given the players..."

"Oh, absolutely." Alison nodded at that, pushing her chair away from the table to spin around once, playfully. Coming to a stop by bracing herself against the table leg, she grinned. "You know, other than when you guys started this whole thing... I think this'll be the first trainee only scenario to be run?" She cocked her head to the side, smile fading a bit. A large part of the reason she'd joined the team, was the hope that the teenagers in the mansion never would have to actually do any of this. The hope that change could happen soon enough to allow them normal lives.

Scott read the change in her expression accurately. "They're all volunteers," he said quietly. "I know that doesn't really help, or at least not much... but they're doing it for the same reasons we are." He paused. "In general, I mean, individual motivations aside." Shrugging a little, he offered her a brief smile. "I think we can all respect that, however much we wanted something different for them."

"Mmm." It was all she could respond to that, really, along with a small nod. Resorting to humor was a definite out, she decided. "And besides. Doesn't mean we have to share our evil plans for world domination with them."

"Oh, but we should." Scott kept a perfectly straight face. "Or maybe just walk down the main downstairs hallway chatting innocently about our world domination plans? You know, in those carrying voices we develop because we have to be able to yell 'Haroun! Down boy!' or 'Nathan! Stop turning things into glass!' over the roar of battle?"

Shaking with laughter at that, Alison shook her head. "Already had the voice me, thank you very much!" Still trying to still the laughter, without much success, she pushed herself up after turning the screen off. "I vote we do the walk down the hallway thing. Let people wooonder."

"Up to the kitchen?" Scott suggested mischievously. "I need some lunch anyway. Forgot to eat breakfast." As they headed out of the Situation Room, he pondered the question very seriously. "Turtles. We need to discuss how Horatio is actually just the first prototype of the attack turtles I'm going to use to help us take over from below."

"Attack turtles with laser guns attached to their backs!" Beaming at the thought - lasers were good! - Alison fell into step, bouncing a bit as she pondered the plot further. Barely, she avoided adding 'Ninja stealth turtles' to the concept. "We should get their shells plates with adamantium. ...oh my. Mini-claws? They could be all grr and stuff..."

"Little adamantium claws. And lousy taste in belt buckles and beer."

She was grinning far too widely for anyone not to run off in the other direction screaming, at that point. "Ha! You know, animal control may complain about that." She pondered the problem for a moment. "Eh. We can just sic the turtles on 'em. Be good practice!"

"Think we could enlist Nate's parrot, too? I think Bella's got the makings of a good general. I heard her shrieking the 'Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war!' speech at the top of her lungs the other day. Any bird that's got a good grasp of Shakespeare can lead our troops anytime, don't you think?" Scott grinned. "And Miles can be her loyal lieutenant."

"That or he'd lead the entire thing," Alison chuckled, shaking her head. "He's thrilled to bits about Cain teaching history next year, by the way. Let out a war whoop and ran off when I let him know. To ambush Cain, or so I figure." She hummed a merry little tune at that. Letting Cain walk into that one himself had been such fun!

"That was downright devious," Scott complimented her very sincerely. "I think you need to be our chief person in charge of underhanded strategy and tactics. You could steal Magneto's comfortable underwear so that every time he wears the goofy suit, it chafes and he's distracted. Then I'll lead the frontal assault."

"EW!" The shudder wasn't faked at all, Alison wrinkling her nose in disgust. "Don't think so! You have an underwear fetish, YOU get them from him! Eeeew!" Flapping her hands a bit, Alison indulged in the classic word for such a situation. "That's so gross! Although I could just get someone else to do it. Being, you know, like... eveel!"

They had reached the upstairs hall at this point, and the horrified look from a pair of younger students passing by was all too entertaining. "If I tell you to steal Magneto's underwear," Scott said mock-threateningly, "you'll steal Magneto's underwear. I'm the man with the plan, remember?" And clearly the man who'd had far too much caffeine already today, but who was counting?

"Go steal your own underwear!" The indignance in the response was predominant, though anyone looking at Alison directly would have noticed the amusement shining through. "Trying to turn me into a panty thief like one of those anime characters, aren't you? Wasn't turning me to evil enough already?"

"You would make a very good anime character. Have you ever tried wearing a sailor suit?" Scott asked innocently. "I think you would look very good in a sailor suit. You have the legs for it. We could let you prance around in front of the bad guys and distract them."

Gaping at him, Alison then lost it, nearly bending over from the laughter. "Shiro would die. On the spot. Death by utter embarassement. And oh! OH! One of those sailor creatures has green hair, no? We could get Lorna to dress up as her! And there's a few blondes in there!" Giggling madly, Alison pondered turning this into next Halloween's costume event.

Jean was going to walk by any minute while he was talking about Alison's legs. He just knew it. Perhaps a slight change in subject might be a good idea? "I could always be... isn't there a guy in that, too?" He'd sat with a couple of the little girls once and watched an episode, mostly because they'd made puppy-dog eyes at him. He was something of a sucker. "With a cape, and a thing for roses..."

"Yeah!" Hilarity gleamed in Alison's eyes. "He's the one with a thing for the blonde I think." Snickering madly, she attempted to resume a serious expression, ignoring the sideways looks Scott kept throwing about as if someone might ambush them out of the blue.

"Hmm. I prefer redheads," Scott said. "Think I could talk Jean into a sailor suit?" Ooh, now there was a mental image. A mental image he'd better not let slip down the link or she was liable to do terrible things to him in his sleep.

"Nothing like a little competitive spirit. Betcha it could be done," Alison nodded innocently enough, trying not to snicker at the look on his face. She pondered letting him walk into the door which had been left open in the hallway, then decided to take pity on him and pulled him out of the way instead. "You start drooling, I'm running off and telling people it wasn't my fault."

He smiled widely at her. "I have no ego anymore. It's a remarkably liberating state of being. I could trail around behind her like a puppy and be perfectly happy." Scott paused, blinking. "Wow. I actually said that aloud."

"It's not that you have no ego," Alison said, smiling a bit. "You just know your ego's safe with her, that's all." It was so very nice to see the pain at Jean's return gone that way. "Well. That's what it looks like to me, anyway... Jean'd be the first to smack down anyone mocking you on that."

"She and I are moving into one of the empty suites. I didn't tell you that." He grinned suddenly. "Although I'll miss Sean. He pushes tea on me and smiles and nods when I rant."

"Well, you're not moving out of the mansion!" Snickering, Alison elbowed him lightly in the ribs. "You can always hunt down Sean and have him push tea at you and smile and nod while you rant even if you move in a suite with Jean. And congratulations on that by the way. I'll have to find the perfect housewarming present now." She winked impishly at that.

"Make it tacky? I have a distinct lack of tacky things with sentimental value." And Jean had a lack of things in general, so really, it was a win-win situation. "Something we can look at for years to come and laugh at."

"I know!" Nodding solemly, Alison decided that a turtle with a fake laser gun mounted on top of it, teeny claws and a metallic shell should do nicely. "And I know just where to get it, too." Lorna would die laughing at this. Oh so much.

She had that look. Ah, well. In this context, that look was probably a good thing. "So," he said companionably, slinging his arm around her shoulders. "What do we do about France?"

"Classify any day old bread baguettes as a weapon of mass destruction. Or, alternatively, the deadly poking things, because day old baguettes? Are evil and deadly. Though not as much as us," she added the last sentence in a conspiratorial whisper. "Do we tell anyone about taking over the world and deciding to give it back?"

"No," Scott whispered back, loudly. "Because it's counterintuitive and they'd start thinking we were just crazy people instead of dangerous megalomaniacs." He tilted his head. "Although I hear straitjackets make wonderful fashion accessories if you wear them in a particular way."

"It's all in the extra long sleeves and the straps." Nodding as though she knew exactly what she was talking about, Alison finally gave in to the laughter once more as they headed down the hallway, looking as innocent as they possibly could manage.