Scott and Cain, Monday afternoon

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Cain decides he needs a chaperone on his trip. Who he picks is not the person you'd expect. It's possible that he might have an ulterior motive or two.


Cain snapped the tape measure back onto his belt, making another set of notes on his clipboard. New floorboards, new moulding, new carpet -Cain smiled when he realized it was all busy work he could pawn off on Jamie. That'd give him the next few days free, which made everything fit perfectly.

As he strolled by the billiards table, he leaned over, caroming the cue ball off one rail and catching it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a familiar figure walking past in the hallway and smiled. Perfect timing.

"Summers," he barked, "c'mere. Got a moment?"

Scott, who was reading as he walked - he was badly behind on some of the school paperwork after the previous week and was still catching up - paused and looked through the doorway at Cain. "Sure," he said, closing the file and coming in. "What's up?"

Cain spun the cue ball in place and absently pointed to the file Scott was holding. "Might as well go put that away or pass it off to Ororo. You and me got a trip leavin' tomorrow morning. Oughta be back in a day or two, so you ain't gotta worry about nothing. Was supposed to be Alison goin' with me, but she done went and got herself hitched so I suppose you're next in line to play chaperone." He smiled widely. "Well, that and Ororo don't much like long plane rides."

Scott blinked and opened his mouth - and then closed it, giving Cain a quizzical look. "A trip," he said finally. "Cain, I don't know what you've got in mind, but I can't just up and leave." There were the mountains of paperwork, and who knew what was going to blow up next... and Jean. He couldn't go away and leave Jean.

"Actually," Cain drawled, sliding the cue ball into a side pocket, "you can. I already cleared your schedule with Charles and Ororo, and I let your darling bride know that you're taking a little trip. Trust me, do you a world of good. Besides," he added, "if you don't go, I just might find it a lot easier to listen to that little voice in the back of my head telling me to go commit some grievous bodily harm on the fella we're going to go visit."

Scott's eyes had narrowed at Cain's first comment. Cleared my schedule, has he? he thought with a flicker of feeble anger, well-laced with anxiety as his brain got hold of the conspiracy angle - Charles, Ororo and Jean? - and postulated various possible motivations, far too many of which could lead back to drugged coffee if it was decided that he wasn't responding to milder forms of intervention.

Then, Cain's last comment finally penetrated. "Grievous bodily harm... who are you going to see?" No 'we'. Not yet.

Leaning his elbows on the billiards table, Cain smiled. "Little fella by the name of Cameron Hodge. Might remember him, the bastard stole a significant lump of money from me while I was laid up. To the tune of, oh, pretty much about all I had. Favor from our good buddy Sebastian Shaw happened to track down where he's at, and I mean to go have a chat with him and get back what's mine."

Straightening up, Cain looked over Scott's head at nothing in particular and nodded. "I can't say the thought of turning him into a grease stain on the wall ain't crossed my mind, and I'd be lying if I said it ain't there now. So you ain't gotta go if you're dead set against it. But I am, and there's a plane ticket on your desk for nine o'clock tomorrow. Your call."

Hodge? Scott was aware of the situation, of course, but he hadn't realized that Cain had found him - and with help from Shaw? Well, Sebastian's just being all kinds of helpful this spring, isn't he? And what precisely was he supposed to do if Cain did take it into his head to turn the man into a grease stain? Speak sharply to him?

Scott startled himself with a shrug. "Since you've gone to all the trouble of freeing up my schedule - " He was going to laugh at Ororo the next time she suggested he wasn't superfluous. " - I suppose I can take a day or two." Surely nothing too big would blow up in that short a span of time. It had been ages since the last home invasion, demonic or otherwise. He wasn't so sure about leaving Jean. He'd have to sound her out on that tonight, make absolutely sure she was all right with the idea...

"Good," Cain said with a short nod. "'cause if you said no, I was supposed to go to Moira and have her tranq you up again. Cheer up. Think of it like one of them road trip movies. You know, Hope and Crosby?" If Bob Hope thought Bing Crosby was a sycophantic twit about to snap under pressure, Cain thought to himself.

"Got a taxi coming by at seven tomorrow, so have a bag packed," he said instead. "Some distance might be good for you, even."

The look Cain got for the tranq comment could have been charitably described as 'evil'. "I'll be ready," Scott said stiffly. Seven. Fair enough. He could get a lot of the remaining paperwork done tonight if he applied himself.