Log: Scott and Bobby, around 1 pm Sunday

[x-coldhands.livejournal.com]

Sunday afternoon, Scott freaks Bobby out and then gives him the news that he's all but an X-man, again.


Sundays were always nice. Peaceful, a minimum of obligations and appointments--a boy could just lie around on his bed and watch Jackie Chan movies all day. Which was Bobby's current plan, and he was well into it at this point, as Rumble in the Bronx was almost over, and Operation Condor was waiting patiently on top of the TV.

One of Jackie's climactic stunts was suddenly and abruptly interrupted by a knock at the door. Scott could hear the television going inside the suite, so he knew that either Bobby was in there or Angelo could tell him where to find his roommate. Which was just as good, really.

Bobby hit pause on the DVD remote and swung himself to his feet, jogging to the suite door. He pulled it open, expecting Alison, or Terry, or maybe Kitty--and blinked in surprise. "Scott. Hey, uh--everything okay?"

"Fine," Scott said, peering past him. "You the only one at home?"

"Yeah--well. I dunno if Angelo's here," Bobby said, pulling the door open in invitation as he waved toward Angelo's doorway. "What's up?"

"You and I need to talk," Scott said, donning a suitably grave expression. "In private."

Bobby gulped and nodded. "My room?"

"That'll work. I was considering summoning you down to the Situation Room, but I figured I owed it to you to come up here in person," Scott said, his voice positively funereal.

Bobby nodded again, closing the door behind Scott and leading the way to his bedroom. "Sorry about the mess..." He kicked at a small pile of laundry on the floor and sank onto the bed.

Scott sat down in the one uncluttered chair. "So," he said, after a long pause. "I've been reviewing your training records and tactical reviews."

"...You have? I mean--I know you do that, but--did I do something wrong?" Bobby was frantically thinking back over his DR sessions, trying to pin down when he might have done something wrong.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this." Scott gave Bobby a regretful look. "I think I've got to take you off trainee status."

"...What? No! If I did something, just tell me, I'll fix it!" Bobby felt a knot of panic welling in his stomach. This was so completely out of the blue!

"Absolutely nothing you can do," Scott intoned. "The decision's already been made. Are you going to fit into your old leathers, or is all the ice-cream eating going to necessitate adjustments?"

"But--huh?" Bobby stared at him for a few seconds, processing his words. "My...I'm on the team?"

Scott dropped the foreboding expression, smiling briefly. "Yeah, you're on the team," he said. "Sorry, I just couldn't resist."

"...You're a dick," Bobby said with a huge grin. "Sir," he added teasingly.

"Yes, well, I have very little entertainment in my life these days, so you'll just have to forgive me." Scott's expression grew a little more serious. "You're not, officially, just yet. You won't be until there's a doctor free to do your physical, which might take a few days. Although that conversation over tea
that you had with Charles was actually your psych evaluation, believe it or not."

"...I believe it," Bobby replied with a small smile. "It makes more sense than him just randomly deciding he wanted my company for an afternoon. I thought I was in trouble, at first." Bobby grinned, barely containing his excitement. There shouldn't be a problem on the physical, after all. He was as good as back. "So can I tell people, then??"

"Tell people, yes. Trumpet it from the mountaintops... well, let's just say I'd prefer you restrain yourself on that score," Scott said wryly. "It's been a hell of a week thus far, and there's no point in... well, aggravating anyone."

Bobby froze, his heart sinking suddenly. "Crap. Paige." There was a tricky situation--if he didn't tell her, she'd be upset at being left out. If he did...she'd be upset for altogether different reasons, most likely.

Scott smiled very faintly, seeing that Bobby had gotten his point. "Don't get me wrong," he said, "the fact that you're going to be back on team status in no way exempts you from the powers-training you've been doing thus far. In fact, I might step it up some."

Bobby took a minute to shift gears, mentally--he was still dwelling on Paige. "Huh? Oh--sure. Whatever you think is best, boss-man." He grinned, resolving to not worry about Paige until she was at least back in the mansion. Meanwhile, he needed to find Terry and do some celebrating.

Yeah, I think the lecture on coasting can wait... Scott thought, then smiled and got up. "I'll let you know, about the physical," he said, "or you'll get a notification from one of the doctors."

"Sounds good!" Bobby hopped to his feet, not quite herding Scott to the door.

"I'm going, I'm going..."