Enter Inspector Kane of the RCMP
Nov. 9th, 2006 10:54 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsLaurie answers the door, and meets the school’s newest member.
She frowned, looking around to see if there was anyone else to answer the door. If it was a package, she wasn't entirely sure she should be the one signing for it, being a student and all. Seeing no one in higher authority however, she resigned herself to the duty.
The site that greeted her as she opened the door was not what she'd been expecting. It was however a very nice chest covered in what appeared to be a Mountie uniform, and when she lifted her gaze upwards, she noticed that the face was certainly worth the effort of the movement.
Oh boy was it ever.
The man smiled at the young girl, revealing a set of very white perfect teeth. He was dressed in the full Mountie dress uniform, the very stereotype made famous; red serge jacket, tan pants with the blue and gold stripe down the side, knee high black boots, polished mirror bright, and the brown stetson with the badge of the force gleaming in the middle.
"Good afternoon. We got a call about a noise disturbance. Apparently one of your upper states, we think maybe Michigan, has been playing it's music too loud, and the other countries on the block are starting to complain, eh." He tried not to grin at the open mouthed, wide eyed gape of the girl. It was not an uncommon reaction to the uniform.
He was talking. Talking was good. The Canadian accent was very nice and he had a Mountie uniform on. This was all very good and Laurie realized that she was staring at the nice man...she should probably stop that.
"I-I-I....Hi." Laurie replied, pushing her hands behind her back, and stepping back a little ways. "Um..."
Crap and double crap. You would think that talking to an extremely handsome man who just happened very tall and handsome, and oh Wow, uniform...Laurie could feel the blush beginning to form on her neck and make a move towards her face. She really needed to attempt actual dialogue here before he got the wrong idea...which was actually the right idea but seriously embarrassing.
"D-D-Did you h-have someone you n-needed to see." she asked, voice soft and stutter completely defeating her control.
Yeah, and some of the RCMP said they felt bad about the reactions. Lying bastards, all of them, Kane thought. "My name is Inspector Kane. I'm here to see Professor Charles Xavier." He watched the flush overtake her ears and start charging towards her cheeks. "I guess you're one of the students here?"
Laurie nodded, thankful for the question. Nodding she could do right now, speech was a little difficult. She gestured for him to follow her, and turned to walk to Charles's office. She assumed that this Inspector Kane would not have been allowed through the front gate if he wasn't meant to be here. So turning her back on him was alright.
"T-t-this way." she said, thinking that some indication of where they were going was probably in order.
"Thank you very much." Politeness was the trademark, wasn't it? He walked behind her, admiring the rich wood paneling and the tasteful decoration. This was nicer than the Canada Club building, and they expected people to believe it was just a school?
"I didn't catch your name, Miss--?"
"Oh. Um.." Laurie replied, blushing harder. She'd completely forgotten to tell him her name. This was a meeting for the record books of her life, that was for sure. All it needed now was for her to trip over the carpet and fall flat on her face. "It's Laurie, Laurie Collins."
This was better though, not facing him fully she could get back some of her equilibrium. Talking was easier when she wasn't blushing like crazy and trying to not fall into a heap of 'Oh, he's cute' goo.
"Hello Laurie. My name is really Garrison. Garrison Kane. It's nice to meet you." Obviously, he'd gotten one of the shy ones for door duty, and if her neck and ears went any redder, they could use her as a road flare. "Do you enjoy going to school here?"
"Hello Laurie. He was talking. Talking was good. The Canadian accent was very nice and he had a Mountie uniform on. This was all very good and Laurie realized that she was staring at the nice man...she should probably stop that.
"S-sure." Laurie replied, glancing over her shoulder and then quickly looking away. "It's different."
One word answers, not exactly sparkling conversation there, Laurie my girl. You're going to have to try harder or the nice man in the uniform is going to think you don't like him.
She'd try, she would.
"I used to go to the local highschool, and then Mr Dayspring talked to Mr Xavier about me coming here after all the trouble."
"All the trouble? I can't imagine a pretty girl like you causing more than the usual problems to the boys." Garrison grinned. He should stop, but it was too much fun. He wanted to see if he could get to neon with those ears. "Where did you used to live?"
"Not far from here, with my Mum. But it's easier to train and go to school if I live at the mansion. I still go see her on weekends though. And, I got arrested. They thought I caused a riot at school, but Paige and Mr Dayspring showed them that my powers couldn't have made all those people so angry. Since I don't control emotions, you know? Just the physical." Laurie replied, hoping they'd get to Mr Xavier's office soon.
It wasn't that he wasn't a nice man...Oh boy was he a nice man. But dying of terminal embarrassment was not where she saw her life as heading at this point in time.
"Just the physical? Well, if I know anything about women," Kane paused and raised an eyebrow. "Actually, I barely know anything about women, but they tend to learn how to control the emotions too soon enough."
They stopped in front of a door, and Garrison took off his hat and tucked it under his arm. "Thank you very much, Laurie. I'm sure we'll see more of each other over the next little while." He grinned and held out his hand.
Oh God...if he touched her. That would be bad, so very bad. Laurie placed her hands firmly behind her back and shook her head. "I'm sorry Mr Kane, I promise I'm not being rude. Just, while the air scrubber I've got on stops the majority of my power, actually touching me...well, it's because it's pheromones, and those come out of my pores...You just so don't want to touch me right now." she finished, blushing even further.
How do you tell a stranger that if you shook their hand they'd get some really uncomfortable physical reactions, especially considering said stranger was so very much older then she was. If there'd been a hole to dive into and hide, she'd have been heading for it right now.
"Well," Garrison withdrew his hand with a look. "That's the first time I've been accused of unwanted touching for a handshake." He tucked his hand back behind him and nodded. "Well, thank you anyway, Laurie."
"That's alright. I've got to go now. I-I'll see you later." she replied, backing away a little before turning and rushing off in the opposite direction.
She needed to go bake something, or possibly find Kyle and talk about Shakespeare. Anything that was completely safe and had nothing to do with cute men at all. Either that or a really cold shower.
Professor Xavier and Inspector Kane meet, and come to a measure of understanding.
Garrison watched Laurie walk away with a grin, and finally turned to knock on the door. His files were tucked under his arm, with his stetson. He had a meeting scheduled with Charles Xavier, who was the man in charge. He'd read Xavier while a student working on his degree, and then later in files and conversations with Marie and Logan. He was curious what the man would really be like.
"Enter," Charles Xavier's voice carried through the spacious study somewhat distractedly as he looked over a set of documents. Glancing up to notice his visitor, his expression changed to a welcoming grin. "Inspector Kane, please, make yourself comfortable. Welcome to my school. I trust your trip was a pleasant and hopefully uneventful one."
"Thank you, sir." Garrison put his hat on the other chair and sat down, the files pale rectangles against the bright red serge jacket. He put the files down on the desk, arranging himself in the chair and crossing the ankles of his highly polished boots. "The drive down was mostly long, and someone decided to dump three inches of snow on me the second I hit Buffalo."
"Everyone talks about the weather, but no one does anything about it," Xavier quoted with a smile, then paused slightly. "Aside from the rare moments here when we do, that is. Our co-headmistress, Ororo Munroe, has a remarkable talent with meteorology. Nevertheless, may I offer you some tea?"
As Charles wheeled his chair over to where a small ceramic kettle rested on a hot plate, he continued speaking. "I've been in contact with your commander, after speaking with the Director of your government's Department H. He was rather effusive about your professionalism and capabilities, yet you will find that working with this school shall provide somewhat of a... different challenge."
"You spoke with Superintendent Harris? Yeah, he lies a lot. My theory is that he's just trying to avoid having to babysit me out in Vancouver during drug busts." Kane smiled easily as he accepted the cup of tea and waved aside the offer of sugar or milk. "And Director Colcord is physically incapable of giving praise except while under extreme torture. Even then I wouldn't count on it."
"Malcolm was... rather taciturn, yes," Xavier admitted with a knowing\nod. "One tends to be, with his position and reputation. Regardless, he has been more than interested in this liaison program. In exchange for assistance from your country's government on mutant matters north of our shared border, we are privileged to have the opportunity to work with one of the RCMP's finest, in what I hope shall be a beneficial experience for all involved." A long sip of tea followed, then Xavier set his cup down, folding his hands on the desk. "If you have any questions or concerns, I will do my best to answer them," Charles offered with a nod.
"Well, I suppose honesty is the best start, sir. As you know, the agreement you made with Minister MacDonald only goes to a certain extent. As long as you provide me access as an observer to your operational and training processes, and ensure that I am present when operating inside Canadian border or directly interacting with our citizens, the government will accredit your institution and provide covert assistance to your efforts." Garrison took a deep breath. "It is my government's wish that you agree to use me as an operative with your group, although you are in no way required to do so. As well, though I will have official duties with the local field office of the FBI, they assure me that they will be such that I am available to operate as a trainer or in a staff capacity at the school if you so wish."
Charles nodded, then gave an inscrutable look to the young Canadian. "All of which I have discussed with Minister MacDonald and Director Colcord, my question for you, Garrison, is this - how do you feel about the situation? I would like to extend our hospitality here to you, both formally and informally."
Kane sat quiet for a long moment before he spoke. "Professor Xavier, you are a great man." He held up his hand to stop any interruptions. "I'm not saying this to try and blow smoke up your--I mean, to try and flatter you. While Dr MacTaggart and Dr Essex pioneered research on the mutant genome, you were the first real authority on the psychological and civil effects of mutation. You've been at the forefront of mutant rights without the least hesitation, and your accomplishments have been such that many put you in the same category as people like Dr. King."
He shifted uncomfortably in the chair, searching for the words. "Which is why I find you so contradictory, sir. I am an officer of the law. The law, made by the people and accountable to it. I do not doubt your motives or your intentions in the least, but... no matter how noble the purpose, or how great the need, a vigilante is still a vigilante at the end of the day. The impose their interpretation of the law on those they claim to protect, and give them no voice in whether or not they want that protection in the first place. It inherently undermines the law, which means it undermines society. I don't doubt the good you intend and do with your X-Men, but I am deeply uncomfortable with it. I don't think it would be fair to pretend to be anything but to you, no matter how much my government wants me on that team."
Charles remained silent for a moment before speaking. "It seems the reputation of the X-Men tends to precede them. To assuage your concerns, it has never been the intent of the X-Men to take the law into their own hands. In nearly every incident they have undertaken, they have done so with the full cooperation of the appropriate authorities - often engaging in situations that other agencies are quite ill-equipped to handle. Unfortunately, given many countries' political climates, cooperation is often... unclear. Yet this opportunity we have to work with you and your Department will hopefully lay new groundwork towards a more visible legitimacy for the work the X-Men do."
He leaned back slightly, lifting a knuckle to his chin in a thoughtful pose before speaking again. "You are correct, Garrison. The need does not outweigh the obligation, especially so for those of us gifted beyond the norm. That is the true lesson I have wished to instill in each of my students, especially those who are part of the X-Men. To serve the greater good, but not to decide it."
"I understand, Professor. I just felt... it would be dishonest to try and hide my reservations from you, especially if you do decide you wish to offer me a place, either at your school and on your team." A grin flashed over Garrison's face. "After all, I spent a lot of time with Marie and Logan, so I immediately distrust your selection process."
"You may be pleasantly surprised at how Marie has grown into quite the capable and responsible woman since you last saw her," Xavier said with a smile. "And I do appreciate your honesty, Garrison. I assure you that during your tenure here, you can always expect the same from myself and the rest of the staff and the team." He leaned forward, extending an open hand. "Allow me then to welcome you, and let this be the first of many steps to a bright future."
"Thank you, Professor." Kane reached over the desk to return the handshake firmly.
There have been stranger introductions to new staff, but Ororo gets one that comes with his own uniform.
Garrison rapped on the door of the office, wondering what was waiting for him. He'd finished up with the Professor, and Charles had asked him to drop by Ororo Munroe's office before settling into his room, to discuss the particulars of his new place at the mansion.
He removed his regulation stetson and tucked it under his arm, waiting for a response.
What now? Ororo stifled a momentary flash of annoyance - she had just settled down, cross-legged on the rug, for a quick meditation session - and rose to her feet. By the time she had called out "Come in, please," her expression was serene once more.
Garrison opened the door, entering the office quietly. In his full dress uniform, it was hard not to clash with, well, just about everything. He stood before the desk and nodding at the attractive black woman behind it.
"Ororo Munroe? I'm Inspector Kane, ma'am. Professor Xavier asked me to drop by, to work out my position here." He put the brown folder Charles had given him on her desk.
"Ah, Inspector Kane, it is good to meet you," Ororo said, smiling at him as she picked up the folder. "I hope that your introduction to the mansion has not been too overwhelming... if you have any questions, I would be happy to answer them."
"Not at all. Everyone's been very friendly so far." He didn't bother to add his observations on the obvious wealth of the school or unique structure of the student body. "I'm not sure exactly what's entailed, but Charles indicated that he wanted to see if I would be an asset on one of your X-Men teams and as a substitute teacher, my other duties permitting. I believe the final decision for both is in your hands, ma'am."
A substitute teacher and an addition to the team? It was all Ororo could do not to vault over the desk and hug the man. As it was, her smiled widened, and she quickly flipped open the folder and scanned the pages inside. "Well, the final decision is actually yours, Mr. Kane, but I am certain that there are additional opportunities for you here should you desire them."
"Well, I'm here officially on an agency swap between the RCMP and the FBI, so I will have some duties at their field office here in New York . The main reason that the Canadian government asked me to serve with the X-Men is to observe how your operation works, to see what we can duplicate for our own Alpha Flight program up north, eh?" Garrison set his hat down carefully beside his valise. "As long as I can funfil those requirements, I'm more than happy to lend a hand where you see fit."
"Please, have a seat," Ororo invited him, realizing that they were both still standing on either side of the desk. She finished her quick perusal of the folder and set it on the desk, folding her hands on top of it as she peered at the brightly-clad man.
"I assume Professor Xavier told you about the nature of the school and its students. We are here to provide them with an education, but also with the guidance they need in order to gain control over their powers, as well as learning to cope with having them in the first place. We are always looking for more qualified instructors who can act as positive role models for the students, and I see that you certainly possess the education that would allow you to teach. The only question that remains is whether you feel comfortable interacting with the students. They are all bright, talented young men and women, but the nature of their lives means that they sometimes have additional requirements as to what they need from us."
"Well, I can do a pretty good hambone too." Garrison spread his hands, a grin on his face. "I wouldn't say that I've got a lot of experience teaching. Most of my interacting with kids their age in the last year involves drug charges, but I'm willing to take a crack at it."
"I am glad to hear that," Ororo said warmly. "And rest assured, you will receive whatever sort of aid you need from myself and the other staff here. We are all in this together, after all. If you are agreeable, I will take a longer look at your files and put together a list of courses that you may be interested in; that way I can provide you with the curriculum in case you are needed to teach at any point in time."
"Sounds good. I'd like to point out I'd be especially qualified teaching health to any female students over the age of eighteen; preferably blonde?" Kane chuckled at her look. "I'm kidding. I mean, not really, but..."
"You will have to arrange your own extra-curricular activities, I'm afraid," Ororo told him dryly. "Which reminds me, I will be sure to have a Code of Conduct delivered to you at the earliest possible time."
"Tough crowd." Garrison shrugged. "There's one thing you'll notice, ma'am, is that I'm very good with rules. Comes with the red coat and the high black boots. My degrees are in psychology and criminology, but I've got a pretty solid grounding. As long as you don't want me teaching second year physics or something, I can likely do the job."
"I am sure you are quite adept at following rules." After all, the Professor wouldn't have recommended him to her if he thought there was any danger of mishaps. "As I said, I will look over your credentials and compile a list - you are of course welcome to select only those classes that interest you. I would not force anything upon you, as an unhappy teacher usually makes for unhappy students."
"I'm not really all that picky. If I can do it, I'm happy to. If not, I'll be sure and let you know." Garrison folded his hands on his lap. "Now with that part out of the way, what about the X-Men?"
Now was where it got interesting. "Joining the X-Men is a slightly different story. As can be expected, there are the usual battery of tests, both physical and mental, to make sure that you are sound for duty. In addition to that there is a training period in order to assure that you are combat-ready... depending on your preparedness this can take weeks, months, or even longer."
"Well, that file can likely help. I've been part of the Beta Flight program for almost eight years now, which includes small unit training with the JTF2 groups, and advanced hand to hand training as requirements for the Royal Canadian Mounted Police." He pointed to the file. "Department H has sent along my last battery of training results, which should cover at least the same basics as your own."
"Excellent. Once I look these over perhaps we can arrange a few training runs, as well as partner you up with some existing team-members to allow you to get familiar with our program." Ororo had to stop herself from making too many plans in advance; it wouldn't do to get too ahead of reality.
"That would be excellent. Marie described a lot of your training regimen while up in Canada, so hopefully that will give me something of a head start, eh?" Garrison reached down and picked up his hat. "Was there anything else you needed at this point, ma'am?"
"No, thank you, Mr. Kane. I believe I have all I need right here." Ororo stood and offered her hand. "Welcome to Xavier's; I am always available if you should need anything at all. Please do not hesitate to come see me again."
He took her hand and shook it firmly. "Of course. I left my horse tied up out front. Can I leave it there?"
The white-haired woman gave him a long, level look, her expression neither incredulous nor skeptical. "I would recommend the stables for any long-term housing, Mr. Kane," she said finally, fishing a map of the grounds out of a desk drawer to hand to him.
Garrison's eyes threw up a couple of grudging eights. Obviously they'd seen stranger. "That would be fine, ma'am. Thank you for your time." He accepted the map and tucked it into his valise before leaving the room.
Ororo allowed herself an amused chuckle as she sat back in her desk chair. A new teacher and a new potential team-member, and one with a sense of humor, too. She didn't know exactly who to thank for that stroke of luck, but she murmured a grateful prayer all the same as she opened up Kane's file to read through it again. Please, let there be no hidden insanity or latent evil lurking in his past... that is all I ask for now.
Next up is the official tour, which Scott gets a chance to size up the man and his car.
"This part of the mansion's been maintained in more or less its original condition," Scott said as he led the school's newest inhabitant down the front hall. Ororo had handed Garrison over to him
for a tour, saying something about how he was spending too much time in the hangar these days. Total nonsense, of course. "And yeah," he conceded with a brief smile sideways at Garrison, "we occasionally lose an antique or two when one of the kids has a powers accident, or takes violent exception to one of their classmates. Kind of comes with the territory."
"To think, in our day we only carried guns to school." Garrison said, mock wistfully as he followed a step behind the other man, hand clasped lightly behind his back. He's left his paperwork with Miss Munroe, so was free to move easily. The bright red serge jacket and the trademark Stetson were enough to earn a brace of goggle-eyed looks from the students. "Still, pretty upscale accommodations. You guys get a lot of dislocation issues; adaptation problems? From what Marie told me, you guys pretty much recruit the whole spectrum."
"Occasionally, yes. We actually had one new student who showed up from Afghanistan this summer and didn't speak a word of English. That was a first, although we've had plenty of international students before." Scott paused, reaching out and straightening a picture that was
hanging slightly askew. "Other problems are more... subtle. Culture shock being a big one. Fear of their powers... I've taught energy-projectors for a number of years, and frankly, they tend to have traumatic manifestations most of the time. Things going boom. Physically enhanced types have issues of their own, of course, and, well, most of the psis we've had, students and teachers alike, have shown up half-cracked and not improved appreciably."
"What's it called now? Associated Post-Psionic Genesis Syndrome or something? One of the big psych hospitals in Winnipeg is heading up a series of therapies, I think. MacLean's had an article." Garrison said, avoiding comment on the certain obsessive-compulsive control
tendencies he'd read about in energy projectors, as Scott fixed the picture. Most of his own degree had focused more towards the criminology, especially the mindset of someone driven to desperate measures. He doubted, with the Professor Xavier that they'd need his help with therapy, but he had a feeling his skills in hostage negotiation and situation control were going to be used a fair amount.
"So, how many students on the campus?"
"About fifty, all in all, including a few resident graduates who live here while attending college either at Westchester or in New York. We've got day staff from outside, as well as the live-in staff... most of the latter will probably show up to introduce themselves at one point or another. And oh," Scott said, managing not to roll his eye, "the demon attack joke, which you will hear on the journals when you introduce yourself, I can almost guarantee it... not a joke. We've had several. The last was a couple of years ago, thankfully, but it's one of those things that live on in infamy."
"Man, one of my trainers is a First Nations shaman with a magic medicine bag. I'm used to the weird shit, eh?" One of the things the RCMP had done well with was keeping the stranger incidents in Canada mostly secret between themselves and Department H, but the files read
more like fiction. "So fifty or so students, say, what, twenty teachers or so... how do you cram everyone in here. I know it's a big mansion, but still..."
"I'll show you the dorm wings a bit later," Scott said with a brief grin. "They were just remodeled. Two to a room, three bedrooms to a suite for the under-18s... shared suites for the older students. Staff have either their own or share, on the third floor... oh, and we have our one full-fledged nuclear family living down in the boathouse. Doctor Moira MacTaggart, her insane husband, and their flying toddler."
"Flying toddler. Got it. I'll pack my lacrosse stick." It seemed safer than any other possible reply. He took a look down another hall, more doors leading off. The place had all of the qualities of a refined and tastefully decorated maze. Intentional or not? "I should ask where I'm going to be housed. The Bureau has an apartment in Salem Center ready if I need it." He didn't want to impose.
Scott looked sideways at him, a bit startled, as he turned to head down that hall. "Oh? We assumed you'd be staying here. Got one of the empty staff suites ready and all... they're large even for two people," he said, maybe a bit wryly. "With one person you'd have plenty of space. These are some of the smaller classrooms, by the way," he said, gesturing at the doors they were passing. "We do a lot of independent or small group study, obviously."
"Didn't figure you'd be able to hide a full lecture hall." Garrison poked his head around the door to take a look. They certainly didn't scrimp at all outfitting the place. Beta Flight had what was
considered a healthy physical plant budget, and even their rooms didn't come with rich walnut paneling and deep pile carpets. "The kids graduating from here, using a standard curriculum? If I'm going to sub for people, I need to brush up on the basics again."
"More or less. We cover the basics. I handle shop and an engineering enrichment course, actually." Scott's expression actually brightened considerably. "I've been working on developing it even further over the last couple of years. There's been a real push nationwide to institute courses like this. Helps encourage those with the proper aptitudes to go on and study it in college... and now I'm rambling. Sorry." He laughed a bit sheepishly. "My initial degree's in
mechanical engineering. Pet topic, obviously. But back to the point... the basics, plus some exotic sciences and languages. And powers training."
"Well, keep me out of the advanced courses. I still have some duties with the FBI as part of my transfer, so I won't have time to be able to run an entire course on my own." Garrison said, not sure whether or not Scott had been fully briefed by the Professor or not. "Another thing. Do you have a gun lock box floating around here somewhere or should I pick on up back at home?"
Scott tilted his head, thinking for a moment. "Not anymore, I don't think. I think Madelyn took hers with her when she moved to Scotland... maybe best to bring your own." He nodded his head towards the double-doors at the end of the hallway. "Library. One of the showpieces of the place, really... I spent a lot of time here when I was sixteen."
Inside, it was fairly quiet. "Too quiet for midterms," Scott observed to Garrison. "Maybe they're all studying in their rooms."
"Yes, because living inside a fabulous and more importantly co-ed mansion, study is exactly what I'd be doing." Kane grinned, looking around the library. It was impressive, just like the librarian who was seriously putting out the 'wrong equipment' vibe. Shame.
"Got to admit, this is all very impressive, Scott. You grew up in here, right?"
Scott nodded. "I was sixteen when the Professor found me in an orphanage in Nevada. At the time I couldn't control my optic blasts, so I was functionally blind. He brought me here, figured out a way to restrain them while giving me back my sight... and well, the rest is history." He leaned back against one of the tables, his gaze roaming the library briefly. "There were only a handful of us back then, and not much of a school, really. Most of the growth's come within the last three or four years. The student body's got some specific characteristics, too... most of our students are those with high-level, unusual, or maladaptive powers they need help learning how to control, or they come from assorted difficult situations. Often both."
"I've heard a little. Look, one thing you should know, Scott. I'm not down here to dictate anything to you guys, or change how you do what you do. But just so we're clear, I'm also not going to use the badge as a shield for students who have fucked up." He held up his hand to forestall an interruption. "Marie talked about, what's his name, John Allerdyce to me when she was up in Canada. I'm not suggesting that you or the Professor would even necessarily ask, but just so we're clear right off the bat. If one of your kids ends up in a situation they should be facing a court, the best I can do for you is to go back home in Toronto."
Scott met Garrison's eyes levelly. "So long as you recognize that for all that we have occasionally shielded students we maybe shouldn't have, we've also from time to time kept them from being treated unfairly by the authorities for the simple fact that they're mutants. Remind me to give you a proper briefing on the corrupt excuse for a local police force we have around here. And introduce you to Laurie Collins. Sweet kid we got off a completely unjustified charge of attempted murder. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and had the wrong genes."
"I'm not going to see anyone hauled off without due process or railroaded into something by some jerkwater hick trooper. Remember, I am a federal officer, which means I am required by law to hold local forces in a certain level of contempt." Garrison shook his head. "Past that, you got someone with a bum rap and I can give you all the support you need. But the only thing I can do for someone that deserves to be in front of a judge is make sure they get a fair one. Some people see different things from the badge, Scott."
Garrison stretched for a moment and shrugged. "So, about the only thing left is to show me where to park my car."
Scott inclined his head towards the library door. "I'll show you the garage. And as for the police," he said as they headed back out of the library and down the hall, "we do at least have some decent people in the DA's office. Balances the FoHers wearing badges to at least a certain extent."
"Let me talk to the Bureau. I know Fred Duncan isn't big on local cops roughing up mutants, and being the big dumb Mountie has it's advantages when it comes to beltfillers." Kane grinned. "Just stick my head in, ask what it's all aboot, eh? Throws them right off every time."
Scott laughed quietly as he opened the door to the garage. He hit the lights, and the front door started to roll open. "Some of the cars are out," he said, "but none of them have designated parking spots. And we've got plenty of space for yours in here."
Garrison looked around at all the sports cars and expensively modified motorcycles. "So, obviously you guys are getting paid a hell of a lot more than I am." He said dryly, fishing for his keys as they both stepped out of the garage and on to the circular drive. He's left his
car near the garage, parked on the side of the road.
"Well, most of the really nice cars belong to the Professor," Scott said with a perfectly straight face, following Garrison out. "If I didn't know how ethical he was about using his power I'd think that he'd implanted post-hypnotic suggestions so that none of the kids ever swipe them for a joyride. Because none of them ever have. I think I considered taking one out when I was about seventeen - I'm not sure, because all of a sudden I was sitting in the library studying."
"Yeah, see that? Falls well under the 'kinda creepy' category." Garrison walked over to his leprously off-white Crown Victoria and popped the trunk. He'd have to go and get the rest of his things from his apartment soon, but the two suitcases would do for now.
Scott stopped, raising an eyebrow at the car. "Well. That is... quite the car. Um. Sentimental value, I'm guessing?" He grinned at Garrison to let him know that he was kidding -mostly.
"Hmm?" Garrison looked up from his trunk. "No, not at all. Why?" He leaned over to look down the side, wondering if maybe someone had damaged it while he was in the mansion or something.
"Really? Oh, okay then." Scott managed to compose his _expression. "It just... has a lot of character, that's all."
"I'd say so." Garrison pulled his suitcases out and dropped them, coming around to pat the hood of the car. "This is a 1997 Crown Victoria Police Special, with a 250 horsepower V8 engine, body on frame rear wheel drive construction, fire suppression and the 75 mile per hour rear crash test. The wheels are 17 inch steel rimmed non-deflating units, and both side panels and the trunk are Kevlar layered ballistic panels rated up to fifty caliber. They won't let you keep the really good police armor at retirement, but that just lifts about a ton of the weight and gives you another thirty miles an hour on top of the normal top speed, which is just over two hundred standard rate."
Garrison gave him an incredibly smug smile. "Which means this car, built in Talbotville, Ontario I might add, can not only catch any of those fabulously expensive sports cars in there, but also grind it down like a beer can at the TwoFour when it does."
Scott coughed. "The grinding, maybe..." He grinned, then waved a hand at the garage. "You can have your pick of parking spots. I'll let you get... um, it all squared away and meet you back inside to show you the suite?"
"Sounds like a plan, Scott." Garrison nodded as he tossed his cases into the front seat beside him. "I'd say I'll be careful, but as you see, I'm not that worried about my paint job."
And now time for old friends, as Marie comes calling.
Garrison Kane took off his regulation stetson, grinning as he spun it in his hands before setting it down on the end table of the room that he had been assigned. It was always entertaining to watch the reaction people had to the full RCMP dress uniform. Especially the students as he'd walked through.
Marie had just gotten back from class when she heard some of the students talking about a strange man in a red jacket with a funny hat. Questioning one of the boys, she following in the direction he pointed until she passed an open doorway. Leaning up against the doorframe, a huge grin spread across her face as she crossed her arms. "Well, look what the cat dragged in," she drawled.
"You know me. Always following the pussy." Garrison unsnapped the collar button on his red serge jacket as he turned. "If it isn't, wait don't tell me, Rogue right? Isn't that what you get called in those spectacularly tight leathers you keep parading around in for CNN." He grinned and walked over to lean on the doorway, looking down at her. "How are you doing, Marie?"
Rolling her eyes at him, her grin grew wider. "Well, those leathers are quite flattering to my figure," she said with a wink. "Ah haven’t been too busy: just been set on fire a couple times, gotten a little crack headed, y’ know, the usual." The fact that her expression didn’t waver was evidence that she had dealt with those issues pretty well by this point. "So what in the sam hill are you doing down here?" she asked, poking Garrison gently in the stomach.
"If you can believe it, I'm here under orders." Kane snorted, obviously amused by the whole process. "Canadian government’s completely reshuffling the Flight programs. Since the X-Men are currently the only successful non-military group of mutant specialists in operation, they want to know how. Bit of a trade off, really. In exchange for letting me oversee the teams and how they operate, the X-Men get an unofficial pass to operate in Canada as long as I'm around."
She raised an eyebrow, waiting for the punch line, until she realized he was serious. "Ah guess success is relative," she said, thinking about the X-Men’s track record.
"Hey, you know that I'm not all that impressed with how you guys do business, but both my government and yours pulled some strings to make this happen. They sound pretty serious." Garrison shrugged and finally pulled off the red jacket, hanging it up carefully. He was still in the requisite tan pants, knee high mirror polish black boots and white collared shirt. "So where's furry, grumpy and psychotic? He still owes me drinks."
Marie giggled and then glanced up at the clock. "Well, he might already be at Harry’s; either that or he’s probably stomping around the DR." She wondered how her Canadian friend would react to the nice little modified room downstairs. "Ah probably still owe you a drink or two myself and Ah’m old enough to have them in the good ol’ US now too."
"Really? There's something savagely wrong about a country that makes you wait until twenty-one to drink, eh?" He sat down on the bed and tackled his first boot. "You're also old enough for everything else too. That uniform reeled anyone in yet?"
"Oh yeah, Ah’m a real prize package. Ah got all the men just lining up," she said wryly. "Ah’ve got all the qualities a guy is lookin’ for in a gal after all: cute, sweet and deadly." Her words were less bitter than they would have been before she and Doug had dated, but she still couldn’t stop herself from the obvious comment. "And how many girlfriends do you have in this town so far?" she teased. "That uniform must be a real babe magnet."
"I think I picked up about six walking through the halls. The downside is that I doubt the oldest is eighteen. Now you know that's normally not an issue for me," Garrison pulled off his other boot and grinned wickedly at her. "but US law is a little different. Guess I'll need a leather suit of my own."
He got up from the bed and gave her a one armed hug. "Despite the fact that you can crush a man's head like a beer can, you're still a catch. And I say that without you showing it all off at the moment, so it's not just a line, eh."
"Hey, Ah wouldn’t be opposed to you in leathers. But those are my charges you’re talking about, so don’t expect me to encourage the swooning. Ah’ve got some good stories Ah could tell them." She smiled up at him. "And Ah’m deeply touched; a real compliment there, and me not showing any cleavage. You’re going soft."
"I'm just priming you before I get you drunk and grope you. And if you ever tell them about that night in Toronto , I will swear on high that the only reason you were left wearing nothing but a checkerboard flag was because we did it." Garrison looked threatening as he paused. "Twice."
He flipped open the top of his suitcase. "And unless you're the one looking for the free show, you're going to need to give me a private moment to change my pants. No pressure, you know."
Marie chuckled, sticking her tongue out briefly. "No one would ever believe you. Ah am way outta your league." Raising an eyebrow, she added. "And it’s not like Ah’ve never gotten that particular show before." Walking out of his room, she closed the door behind her.
Typically, the Canadian ends up at the bar to collect some drinks Logan owes him.
Garrison Kane walked into Harry's, having followed Marie's directions to get down there. She had said she'd be along later, having to finish a couple of details at the school before she could join them. He walked through the front, past the bar, and quickly spotted Logan sitting in one of the side booths. He leaned at the bar to place an order, and walked over.
"You still owe me, like, six drinks, Old Man." Garrison said, sitting down across from Logan, who peered at him over the top of the paper. "I told you the Ti-Cats didn't have a prayer against the Argos."
Logan snorted in amusement. "You slumming, Garrison, or has Ottawa finally granted your request to throw my ass in jail?" he asked.
"Hey, I only asked the once, and that was for a perfectly legitimate reason. Who the fuck cheers for the Rangers in a Toronto bar?" Garrison grinned and leaned back in his chair. "Besides, I only believe you need heavy medication and severe therapy. Preferably shock therapy, with those big electrodes."
The waitress came over with a pitcher of beer and a pair of shots. "I, uh, got started on the medication part."
Logan grinned ferally. "All right, you convinced me. You can stay." he said, reaching for one of the shots. "And shock therapy's been tried. Didn't take." he said with a slight grimace. "A guy lookin' for a scrap cheers for the Rangers in a Toronto bar. Thought you knew this. Besides, Walt through it was a hoot."
"Walt is also insane." Garrison took a sip from his beer and grinned. "How you been, Logan? Heather said to say hi."
"Comes with the turf." he grinned by way of reply. Walt was one of the few people on the planet that Logan honestly _liked_. "You got her number? I should really call her. Got some stuff to talk about with her." he said with just a faint lessening of his grin. He'd be damned if he was going to show weakness in front of _Garrison_. He'd never hear the end of it. He downed his shot in a single smooth swallow, savoring the burn of the alcohol before his body neutralized it.
"Give her a call. She said that she and Mac haven't heard from you in a while. Neither have I, but that's because you still owe me money."
Garrison picked up his shot and gunned it back. The truth was, he generally liked Logan. They hadn't been as close as he had been with Marie, but part of that was age. Most of Alpha Flight had been over thirty when they were up there, leaving Garrison and Marie as the kids of the outfit.
Still, he'd shown up with the rest for his mother's funeral, and they had shared some epic drinking nights in various Canadian cities. It had always been Logan's anger that had created distance; Garrison intense concern over the lack of control that he was sometimes susceptible to.
"As for being down here, if you can believe it, I'm here officially. I'm the new liaison for the Canadian government to the Xavier school."
"Holy shit. Who'd you piss off to get that assignment?" he asked, taking a deep swallow of beer. "They call it the madhouse, and most times they're right on the money. Overly-hormonal teenagers, a mixed bag of instructors, and a Cause." he said, the capital letter plain.
"Come to think of it, kid, you'll fit right in."
"Remind me to find ways to hurt you later." Garrison said sourly. "Department H has re-authorized the Alpha Flight program, but they want a total overhaul of procedures. That includes an indepth analysis of current successful examples of the modal, the only one of which is the X-Men. So I'm here to watch, maybe help out, and tell my government how you guys do things and why they work."
Kane finished the second shot. "And if you want to, you know, give me a list of the particularly overly-hormonal female teens, aged eighteen or so, I just might accidentally buy a few of your drinks." He said, mostly joking.
Logan whistled through his teeth. "Damn, kid, you did wind up nose-deep in a giant pile of shit." he said with amusement. "And I think I'll let you cut your own swath through the overly-hormonal teens. But if you harass Marie I'll break both your arms." he said in a friendly sort of a way. "Kid's had a bad enough time of it. Come to think of it, if you want to get your wick wet in royalty, we got some Attillanese brats for you to go chase." he said.
"I think I'll pass. The RCMP might get pissed at me starting an international incident with visiting royalty, you know?" Garrison grinned. "As for Marie, it is both my duty and pleasure to harass her. Because if I don't, she does even worse to me while calling me a wimp and making chicken noises at me. I still have nightmares about the chicken noises."
He finished his second shot and refilled his glass. "Oh, and she'll be here in, like, ten minutes."
Logan quirked an eyebrow. "We're going to need more beer." He observed, then flagged down a barmaid to bring a couple more pitchers of Moosehead. "Welcome to Xavier's, Garrison. It's a real piece of work some days, but all-in it's worth it." he pontificated around pulls from his pint.
"That's what they all tell me, which it why I'm mostly focusing on dread." He said, looking around the bar as they talked. "So, I heard all the stories from the two of you, and Jean-Paul before he fucked off back to Quebec. You're back, things have changed. Tell me what I'm walking back into, eh?"
Logan just grinned ferally at the younger man and said nothing. "Big bad Mountie like you should be able to figure the score all on his own. Besides, I wouldn't want to bias you one way or the other." He added, then downed the last of his pint and refilled it. "But there's no harm in the basics. Team's basically a pool system - op comes up, the COs pull whoever's best suited for what's coming down out of who's available. Team's got a nasty habit of needing a good bit of psych downtime..." and then he wolf-grinned at Garrison - "so manpower's inconstant."
"Well, having the Charles Xavier on hand for consultation must help. I met with Ororo Munroe earlier. I'm guessing she's one of your team leaders. She gave me the basics on training and things. The other one, Summers? He gave me the school tour." Garrison shrugged as he applied himself to his drink. "Is it true you guys use a military grade stealth bomber as transport?"
"Spy plane, but yeah." he said. "Tweaked all to hell and back – they tell me one of the guys at the training facility's an Aero nut, and Summers handles all the hands-on crap. Faster'n shit and stealthier than anything with wings has any right to be. Only been blown once." he said, racking his memory to be sure. "Nice ride."
"Beats out the helicopter." Kane said, slightly envious of their facilities. "I don't know if they're even going to drop me on the team or anything, eh? The Director wants it, but it's up to Xavier. Reminds me, you teaching advanced hand to hand again? Eugene's got some notes to the stuff you guys worked up in Canada, and he wants to expand them."
Logan nodded. "I give seminars and advanced training to whoever wants it." he said diplomatically. "Purely voluntary, but I usually get a decent turnout. We got some real hand-to-hand bunnies on the team and sharpening their skills keeps me from accumulating too much rust. And shit, Judd's another one I need to go call. Get his ass down here, go get pissed. See what's still standing when he sobers up."
"I'll make sure to arrest you after you've sobered up." Kane said dryly, over the top of his glass. He'd mostly avoided the kinds of scrapes Logan sought out while drinking, but the man was smart enough to stick to bars where everyone else was there for the same thing.
Both men looked up when Marie came through the door.
"You don't have law-enforcement power in the States." he said with a grin, then waved Marie over. "Hope the barmaid gets here with the beer soon." he noted. "If I'm gonna have to sit here and watch you to bat your eyelashes at each other, I'm going to need a lot of beer."
"You know my eyelashes are for you alone, Logan. Besides," Garrison dug into his pocket and put the badge on the table. "I'm part of an agency swap, with the FBI. That means all I have to do it wait for you guys to cross state lines, which you two maniacs will, and then get you." Kane grinned and drained his glass.
Logan grunted at the sight of the badge. "That's one way to kill a truly epic piss-up in the making." he noted sourly. "You're still no fun at all, kid."
"Oh come on boys, you're both pretty," Marie chimed in as she settled into the booth. Leaning over, she grabbed Logan's mug and took a swig. She grinned at the two men as she set the now empty glass down. "Can't leave you two alone for a minute without one of ya startin' a pissing contest, can Ah?"
Logan just grinned and poured Marie a beer. "Gar here is still trying to compensate for his incredibly small dick by maligning his betters." he taunted, then took a deep drink of his own beer. "But since he brings news and Heather's phone number, I think we can overlook his shortcomings."
"Oh, you didn't hear. I spent a year with a new biotechnology group. They've replaced it with a modified organic combat model that comes with five different attachments. Seriously, it's bloody beautiful!" Garrison stood up and started unbuckling his pants. "You guys have got to see it. The rotor part at least!"
Marie's frantic motion for him to sit back down was greeted with a grin, as he finally took his chair again and refilled the mug Marie had stolen. "You guys are no fun."
"Ah just want to be able to show my face here again," she said with a relieved smile as he sat back down. "'sides, it's not like Ah won't have more opportunities to admire your upgrade later, unless you've improved your poker face," she said with a wink.
Logan grinned the grin of a truly happy man as he leaned back and listened to the kids squabble. For the first time in months, he actually felt content. "Get a room, you two." he growled affectionately.
"I keep trying, she keeps saying no. I even offered to pay, and that earned me a particularly nasty threat." Garrison shrugged and sipped from his beer. "I didn't even know you could do that with a barbeque and a skunk. Must be a Southern thing."
Marie pretended to look horrified, but it was obvious she was enjoying the banter. "Keep testing me and you'll find out exactly how it works," she teased. "But don't worry, Ah'm sure you'll have ladies beatin' down your door once they see you in full dress. You'll forget all about lil' ol' me."
"True. Sounds like a good plan, actually. I know you'll end up scratching at my door at 3am no matter what I do." Garrison ducked his head at the flung peanuts from Marie. "What? I could have been talking about Logan."
"Only in your dreams, Mountie." Logan growled in a friendly way.
She frowned, looking around to see if there was anyone else to answer the door. If it was a package, she wasn't entirely sure she should be the one signing for it, being a student and all. Seeing no one in higher authority however, she resigned herself to the duty.
The site that greeted her as she opened the door was not what she'd been expecting. It was however a very nice chest covered in what appeared to be a Mountie uniform, and when she lifted her gaze upwards, she noticed that the face was certainly worth the effort of the movement.
Oh boy was it ever.
The man smiled at the young girl, revealing a set of very white perfect teeth. He was dressed in the full Mountie dress uniform, the very stereotype made famous; red serge jacket, tan pants with the blue and gold stripe down the side, knee high black boots, polished mirror bright, and the brown stetson with the badge of the force gleaming in the middle.
"Good afternoon. We got a call about a noise disturbance. Apparently one of your upper states, we think maybe Michigan, has been playing it's music too loud, and the other countries on the block are starting to complain, eh." He tried not to grin at the open mouthed, wide eyed gape of the girl. It was not an uncommon reaction to the uniform.
He was talking. Talking was good. The Canadian accent was very nice and he had a Mountie uniform on. This was all very good and Laurie realized that she was staring at the nice man...she should probably stop that.
"I-I-I....Hi." Laurie replied, pushing her hands behind her back, and stepping back a little ways. "Um..."
Crap and double crap. You would think that talking to an extremely handsome man who just happened very tall and handsome, and oh Wow, uniform...Laurie could feel the blush beginning to form on her neck and make a move towards her face. She really needed to attempt actual dialogue here before he got the wrong idea...which was actually the right idea but seriously embarrassing.
"D-D-Did you h-have someone you n-needed to see." she asked, voice soft and stutter completely defeating her control.
Yeah, and some of the RCMP said they felt bad about the reactions. Lying bastards, all of them, Kane thought. "My name is Inspector Kane. I'm here to see Professor Charles Xavier." He watched the flush overtake her ears and start charging towards her cheeks. "I guess you're one of the students here?"
Laurie nodded, thankful for the question. Nodding she could do right now, speech was a little difficult. She gestured for him to follow her, and turned to walk to Charles's office. She assumed that this Inspector Kane would not have been allowed through the front gate if he wasn't meant to be here. So turning her back on him was alright.
"T-t-this way." she said, thinking that some indication of where they were going was probably in order.
"Thank you very much." Politeness was the trademark, wasn't it? He walked behind her, admiring the rich wood paneling and the tasteful decoration. This was nicer than the Canada Club building, and they expected people to believe it was just a school?
"I didn't catch your name, Miss--?"
"Oh. Um.." Laurie replied, blushing harder. She'd completely forgotten to tell him her name. This was a meeting for the record books of her life, that was for sure. All it needed now was for her to trip over the carpet and fall flat on her face. "It's Laurie, Laurie Collins."
This was better though, not facing him fully she could get back some of her equilibrium. Talking was easier when she wasn't blushing like crazy and trying to not fall into a heap of 'Oh, he's cute' goo.
"Hello Laurie. My name is really Garrison. Garrison Kane. It's nice to meet you." Obviously, he'd gotten one of the shy ones for door duty, and if her neck and ears went any redder, they could use her as a road flare. "Do you enjoy going to school here?"
"Hello Laurie. He was talking. Talking was good. The Canadian accent was very nice and he had a Mountie uniform on. This was all very good and Laurie realized that she was staring at the nice man...she should probably stop that.
"S-sure." Laurie replied, glancing over her shoulder and then quickly looking away. "It's different."
One word answers, not exactly sparkling conversation there, Laurie my girl. You're going to have to try harder or the nice man in the uniform is going to think you don't like him.
She'd try, she would.
"I used to go to the local highschool, and then Mr Dayspring talked to Mr Xavier about me coming here after all the trouble."
"All the trouble? I can't imagine a pretty girl like you causing more than the usual problems to the boys." Garrison grinned. He should stop, but it was too much fun. He wanted to see if he could get to neon with those ears. "Where did you used to live?"
"Not far from here, with my Mum. But it's easier to train and go to school if I live at the mansion. I still go see her on weekends though. And, I got arrested. They thought I caused a riot at school, but Paige and Mr Dayspring showed them that my powers couldn't have made all those people so angry. Since I don't control emotions, you know? Just the physical." Laurie replied, hoping they'd get to Mr Xavier's office soon.
It wasn't that he wasn't a nice man...Oh boy was he a nice man. But dying of terminal embarrassment was not where she saw her life as heading at this point in time.
"Just the physical? Well, if I know anything about women," Kane paused and raised an eyebrow. "Actually, I barely know anything about women, but they tend to learn how to control the emotions too soon enough."
They stopped in front of a door, and Garrison took off his hat and tucked it under his arm. "Thank you very much, Laurie. I'm sure we'll see more of each other over the next little while." He grinned and held out his hand.
Oh God...if he touched her. That would be bad, so very bad. Laurie placed her hands firmly behind her back and shook her head. "I'm sorry Mr Kane, I promise I'm not being rude. Just, while the air scrubber I've got on stops the majority of my power, actually touching me...well, it's because it's pheromones, and those come out of my pores...You just so don't want to touch me right now." she finished, blushing even further.
How do you tell a stranger that if you shook their hand they'd get some really uncomfortable physical reactions, especially considering said stranger was so very much older then she was. If there'd been a hole to dive into and hide, she'd have been heading for it right now.
"Well," Garrison withdrew his hand with a look. "That's the first time I've been accused of unwanted touching for a handshake." He tucked his hand back behind him and nodded. "Well, thank you anyway, Laurie."
"That's alright. I've got to go now. I-I'll see you later." she replied, backing away a little before turning and rushing off in the opposite direction.
She needed to go bake something, or possibly find Kyle and talk about Shakespeare. Anything that was completely safe and had nothing to do with cute men at all. Either that or a really cold shower.
Professor Xavier and Inspector Kane meet, and come to a measure of understanding.
Garrison watched Laurie walk away with a grin, and finally turned to knock on the door. His files were tucked under his arm, with his stetson. He had a meeting scheduled with Charles Xavier, who was the man in charge. He'd read Xavier while a student working on his degree, and then later in files and conversations with Marie and Logan. He was curious what the man would really be like.
"Enter," Charles Xavier's voice carried through the spacious study somewhat distractedly as he looked over a set of documents. Glancing up to notice his visitor, his expression changed to a welcoming grin. "Inspector Kane, please, make yourself comfortable. Welcome to my school. I trust your trip was a pleasant and hopefully uneventful one."
"Thank you, sir." Garrison put his hat on the other chair and sat down, the files pale rectangles against the bright red serge jacket. He put the files down on the desk, arranging himself in the chair and crossing the ankles of his highly polished boots. "The drive down was mostly long, and someone decided to dump three inches of snow on me the second I hit Buffalo."
"Everyone talks about the weather, but no one does anything about it," Xavier quoted with a smile, then paused slightly. "Aside from the rare moments here when we do, that is. Our co-headmistress, Ororo Munroe, has a remarkable talent with meteorology. Nevertheless, may I offer you some tea?"
As Charles wheeled his chair over to where a small ceramic kettle rested on a hot plate, he continued speaking. "I've been in contact with your commander, after speaking with the Director of your government's Department H. He was rather effusive about your professionalism and capabilities, yet you will find that working with this school shall provide somewhat of a... different challenge."
"You spoke with Superintendent Harris? Yeah, he lies a lot. My theory is that he's just trying to avoid having to babysit me out in Vancouver during drug busts." Kane smiled easily as he accepted the cup of tea and waved aside the offer of sugar or milk. "And Director Colcord is physically incapable of giving praise except while under extreme torture. Even then I wouldn't count on it."
"Malcolm was... rather taciturn, yes," Xavier admitted with a knowing\nod. "One tends to be, with his position and reputation. Regardless, he has been more than interested in this liaison program. In exchange for assistance from your country's government on mutant matters north of our shared border, we are privileged to have the opportunity to work with one of the RCMP's finest, in what I hope shall be a beneficial experience for all involved." A long sip of tea followed, then Xavier set his cup down, folding his hands on the desk. "If you have any questions or concerns, I will do my best to answer them," Charles offered with a nod.
"Well, I suppose honesty is the best start, sir. As you know, the agreement you made with Minister MacDonald only goes to a certain extent. As long as you provide me access as an observer to your operational and training processes, and ensure that I am present when operating inside Canadian border or directly interacting with our citizens, the government will accredit your institution and provide covert assistance to your efforts." Garrison took a deep breath. "It is my government's wish that you agree to use me as an operative with your group, although you are in no way required to do so. As well, though I will have official duties with the local field office of the FBI, they assure me that they will be such that I am available to operate as a trainer or in a staff capacity at the school if you so wish."
Charles nodded, then gave an inscrutable look to the young Canadian. "All of which I have discussed with Minister MacDonald and Director Colcord, my question for you, Garrison, is this - how do you feel about the situation? I would like to extend our hospitality here to you, both formally and informally."
Kane sat quiet for a long moment before he spoke. "Professor Xavier, you are a great man." He held up his hand to stop any interruptions. "I'm not saying this to try and blow smoke up your--I mean, to try and flatter you. While Dr MacTaggart and Dr Essex pioneered research on the mutant genome, you were the first real authority on the psychological and civil effects of mutation. You've been at the forefront of mutant rights without the least hesitation, and your accomplishments have been such that many put you in the same category as people like Dr. King."
He shifted uncomfortably in the chair, searching for the words. "Which is why I find you so contradictory, sir. I am an officer of the law. The law, made by the people and accountable to it. I do not doubt your motives or your intentions in the least, but... no matter how noble the purpose, or how great the need, a vigilante is still a vigilante at the end of the day. The impose their interpretation of the law on those they claim to protect, and give them no voice in whether or not they want that protection in the first place. It inherently undermines the law, which means it undermines society. I don't doubt the good you intend and do with your X-Men, but I am deeply uncomfortable with it. I don't think it would be fair to pretend to be anything but to you, no matter how much my government wants me on that team."
Charles remained silent for a moment before speaking. "It seems the reputation of the X-Men tends to precede them. To assuage your concerns, it has never been the intent of the X-Men to take the law into their own hands. In nearly every incident they have undertaken, they have done so with the full cooperation of the appropriate authorities - often engaging in situations that other agencies are quite ill-equipped to handle. Unfortunately, given many countries' political climates, cooperation is often... unclear. Yet this opportunity we have to work with you and your Department will hopefully lay new groundwork towards a more visible legitimacy for the work the X-Men do."
He leaned back slightly, lifting a knuckle to his chin in a thoughtful pose before speaking again. "You are correct, Garrison. The need does not outweigh the obligation, especially so for those of us gifted beyond the norm. That is the true lesson I have wished to instill in each of my students, especially those who are part of the X-Men. To serve the greater good, but not to decide it."
"I understand, Professor. I just felt... it would be dishonest to try and hide my reservations from you, especially if you do decide you wish to offer me a place, either at your school and on your team." A grin flashed over Garrison's face. "After all, I spent a lot of time with Marie and Logan, so I immediately distrust your selection process."
"You may be pleasantly surprised at how Marie has grown into quite the capable and responsible woman since you last saw her," Xavier said with a smile. "And I do appreciate your honesty, Garrison. I assure you that during your tenure here, you can always expect the same from myself and the rest of the staff and the team." He leaned forward, extending an open hand. "Allow me then to welcome you, and let this be the first of many steps to a bright future."
"Thank you, Professor." Kane reached over the desk to return the handshake firmly.
There have been stranger introductions to new staff, but Ororo gets one that comes with his own uniform.
Garrison rapped on the door of the office, wondering what was waiting for him. He'd finished up with the Professor, and Charles had asked him to drop by Ororo Munroe's office before settling into his room, to discuss the particulars of his new place at the mansion.
He removed his regulation stetson and tucked it under his arm, waiting for a response.
What now? Ororo stifled a momentary flash of annoyance - she had just settled down, cross-legged on the rug, for a quick meditation session - and rose to her feet. By the time she had called out "Come in, please," her expression was serene once more.
Garrison opened the door, entering the office quietly. In his full dress uniform, it was hard not to clash with, well, just about everything. He stood before the desk and nodding at the attractive black woman behind it.
"Ororo Munroe? I'm Inspector Kane, ma'am. Professor Xavier asked me to drop by, to work out my position here." He put the brown folder Charles had given him on her desk.
"Ah, Inspector Kane, it is good to meet you," Ororo said, smiling at him as she picked up the folder. "I hope that your introduction to the mansion has not been too overwhelming... if you have any questions, I would be happy to answer them."
"Not at all. Everyone's been very friendly so far." He didn't bother to add his observations on the obvious wealth of the school or unique structure of the student body. "I'm not sure exactly what's entailed, but Charles indicated that he wanted to see if I would be an asset on one of your X-Men teams and as a substitute teacher, my other duties permitting. I believe the final decision for both is in your hands, ma'am."
A substitute teacher and an addition to the team? It was all Ororo could do not to vault over the desk and hug the man. As it was, her smiled widened, and she quickly flipped open the folder and scanned the pages inside. "Well, the final decision is actually yours, Mr. Kane, but I am certain that there are additional opportunities for you here should you desire them."
"Well, I'm here officially on an agency swap between the RCMP and the FBI, so I will have some duties at their field office here in New York . The main reason that the Canadian government asked me to serve with the X-Men is to observe how your operation works, to see what we can duplicate for our own Alpha Flight program up north, eh?" Garrison set his hat down carefully beside his valise. "As long as I can funfil those requirements, I'm more than happy to lend a hand where you see fit."
"Please, have a seat," Ororo invited him, realizing that they were both still standing on either side of the desk. She finished her quick perusal of the folder and set it on the desk, folding her hands on top of it as she peered at the brightly-clad man.
"I assume Professor Xavier told you about the nature of the school and its students. We are here to provide them with an education, but also with the guidance they need in order to gain control over their powers, as well as learning to cope with having them in the first place. We are always looking for more qualified instructors who can act as positive role models for the students, and I see that you certainly possess the education that would allow you to teach. The only question that remains is whether you feel comfortable interacting with the students. They are all bright, talented young men and women, but the nature of their lives means that they sometimes have additional requirements as to what they need from us."
"Well, I can do a pretty good hambone too." Garrison spread his hands, a grin on his face. "I wouldn't say that I've got a lot of experience teaching. Most of my interacting with kids their age in the last year involves drug charges, but I'm willing to take a crack at it."
"I am glad to hear that," Ororo said warmly. "And rest assured, you will receive whatever sort of aid you need from myself and the other staff here. We are all in this together, after all. If you are agreeable, I will take a longer look at your files and put together a list of courses that you may be interested in; that way I can provide you with the curriculum in case you are needed to teach at any point in time."
"Sounds good. I'd like to point out I'd be especially qualified teaching health to any female students over the age of eighteen; preferably blonde?" Kane chuckled at her look. "I'm kidding. I mean, not really, but..."
"You will have to arrange your own extra-curricular activities, I'm afraid," Ororo told him dryly. "Which reminds me, I will be sure to have a Code of Conduct delivered to you at the earliest possible time."
"Tough crowd." Garrison shrugged. "There's one thing you'll notice, ma'am, is that I'm very good with rules. Comes with the red coat and the high black boots. My degrees are in psychology and criminology, but I've got a pretty solid grounding. As long as you don't want me teaching second year physics or something, I can likely do the job."
"I am sure you are quite adept at following rules." After all, the Professor wouldn't have recommended him to her if he thought there was any danger of mishaps. "As I said, I will look over your credentials and compile a list - you are of course welcome to select only those classes that interest you. I would not force anything upon you, as an unhappy teacher usually makes for unhappy students."
"I'm not really all that picky. If I can do it, I'm happy to. If not, I'll be sure and let you know." Garrison folded his hands on his lap. "Now with that part out of the way, what about the X-Men?"
Now was where it got interesting. "Joining the X-Men is a slightly different story. As can be expected, there are the usual battery of tests, both physical and mental, to make sure that you are sound for duty. In addition to that there is a training period in order to assure that you are combat-ready... depending on your preparedness this can take weeks, months, or even longer."
"Well, that file can likely help. I've been part of the Beta Flight program for almost eight years now, which includes small unit training with the JTF2 groups, and advanced hand to hand training as requirements for the Royal Canadian Mounted Police." He pointed to the file. "Department H has sent along my last battery of training results, which should cover at least the same basics as your own."
"Excellent. Once I look these over perhaps we can arrange a few training runs, as well as partner you up with some existing team-members to allow you to get familiar with our program." Ororo had to stop herself from making too many plans in advance; it wouldn't do to get too ahead of reality.
"That would be excellent. Marie described a lot of your training regimen while up in Canada, so hopefully that will give me something of a head start, eh?" Garrison reached down and picked up his hat. "Was there anything else you needed at this point, ma'am?"
"No, thank you, Mr. Kane. I believe I have all I need right here." Ororo stood and offered her hand. "Welcome to Xavier's; I am always available if you should need anything at all. Please do not hesitate to come see me again."
He took her hand and shook it firmly. "Of course. I left my horse tied up out front. Can I leave it there?"
The white-haired woman gave him a long, level look, her expression neither incredulous nor skeptical. "I would recommend the stables for any long-term housing, Mr. Kane," she said finally, fishing a map of the grounds out of a desk drawer to hand to him.
Garrison's eyes threw up a couple of grudging eights. Obviously they'd seen stranger. "That would be fine, ma'am. Thank you for your time." He accepted the map and tucked it into his valise before leaving the room.
Ororo allowed herself an amused chuckle as she sat back in her desk chair. A new teacher and a new potential team-member, and one with a sense of humor, too. She didn't know exactly who to thank for that stroke of luck, but she murmured a grateful prayer all the same as she opened up Kane's file to read through it again. Please, let there be no hidden insanity or latent evil lurking in his past... that is all I ask for now.
Next up is the official tour, which Scott gets a chance to size up the man and his car.
"This part of the mansion's been maintained in more or less its original condition," Scott said as he led the school's newest inhabitant down the front hall. Ororo had handed Garrison over to him
for a tour, saying something about how he was spending too much time in the hangar these days. Total nonsense, of course. "And yeah," he conceded with a brief smile sideways at Garrison, "we occasionally lose an antique or two when one of the kids has a powers accident, or takes violent exception to one of their classmates. Kind of comes with the territory."
"To think, in our day we only carried guns to school." Garrison said, mock wistfully as he followed a step behind the other man, hand clasped lightly behind his back. He's left his paperwork with Miss Munroe, so was free to move easily. The bright red serge jacket and the trademark Stetson were enough to earn a brace of goggle-eyed looks from the students. "Still, pretty upscale accommodations. You guys get a lot of dislocation issues; adaptation problems? From what Marie told me, you guys pretty much recruit the whole spectrum."
"Occasionally, yes. We actually had one new student who showed up from Afghanistan this summer and didn't speak a word of English. That was a first, although we've had plenty of international students before." Scott paused, reaching out and straightening a picture that was
hanging slightly askew. "Other problems are more... subtle. Culture shock being a big one. Fear of their powers... I've taught energy-projectors for a number of years, and frankly, they tend to have traumatic manifestations most of the time. Things going boom. Physically enhanced types have issues of their own, of course, and, well, most of the psis we've had, students and teachers alike, have shown up half-cracked and not improved appreciably."
"What's it called now? Associated Post-Psionic Genesis Syndrome or something? One of the big psych hospitals in Winnipeg is heading up a series of therapies, I think. MacLean's had an article." Garrison said, avoiding comment on the certain obsessive-compulsive control
tendencies he'd read about in energy projectors, as Scott fixed the picture. Most of his own degree had focused more towards the criminology, especially the mindset of someone driven to desperate measures. He doubted, with the Professor Xavier that they'd need his help with therapy, but he had a feeling his skills in hostage negotiation and situation control were going to be used a fair amount.
"So, how many students on the campus?"
"About fifty, all in all, including a few resident graduates who live here while attending college either at Westchester or in New York. We've got day staff from outside, as well as the live-in staff... most of the latter will probably show up to introduce themselves at one point or another. And oh," Scott said, managing not to roll his eye, "the demon attack joke, which you will hear on the journals when you introduce yourself, I can almost guarantee it... not a joke. We've had several. The last was a couple of years ago, thankfully, but it's one of those things that live on in infamy."
"Man, one of my trainers is a First Nations shaman with a magic medicine bag. I'm used to the weird shit, eh?" One of the things the RCMP had done well with was keeping the stranger incidents in Canada mostly secret between themselves and Department H, but the files read
more like fiction. "So fifty or so students, say, what, twenty teachers or so... how do you cram everyone in here. I know it's a big mansion, but still..."
"I'll show you the dorm wings a bit later," Scott said with a brief grin. "They were just remodeled. Two to a room, three bedrooms to a suite for the under-18s... shared suites for the older students. Staff have either their own or share, on the third floor... oh, and we have our one full-fledged nuclear family living down in the boathouse. Doctor Moira MacTaggart, her insane husband, and their flying toddler."
"Flying toddler. Got it. I'll pack my lacrosse stick." It seemed safer than any other possible reply. He took a look down another hall, more doors leading off. The place had all of the qualities of a refined and tastefully decorated maze. Intentional or not? "I should ask where I'm going to be housed. The Bureau has an apartment in Salem Center ready if I need it." He didn't want to impose.
Scott looked sideways at him, a bit startled, as he turned to head down that hall. "Oh? We assumed you'd be staying here. Got one of the empty staff suites ready and all... they're large even for two people," he said, maybe a bit wryly. "With one person you'd have plenty of space. These are some of the smaller classrooms, by the way," he said, gesturing at the doors they were passing. "We do a lot of independent or small group study, obviously."
"Didn't figure you'd be able to hide a full lecture hall." Garrison poked his head around the door to take a look. They certainly didn't scrimp at all outfitting the place. Beta Flight had what was
considered a healthy physical plant budget, and even their rooms didn't come with rich walnut paneling and deep pile carpets. "The kids graduating from here, using a standard curriculum? If I'm going to sub for people, I need to brush up on the basics again."
"More or less. We cover the basics. I handle shop and an engineering enrichment course, actually." Scott's expression actually brightened considerably. "I've been working on developing it even further over the last couple of years. There's been a real push nationwide to institute courses like this. Helps encourage those with the proper aptitudes to go on and study it in college... and now I'm rambling. Sorry." He laughed a bit sheepishly. "My initial degree's in
mechanical engineering. Pet topic, obviously. But back to the point... the basics, plus some exotic sciences and languages. And powers training."
"Well, keep me out of the advanced courses. I still have some duties with the FBI as part of my transfer, so I won't have time to be able to run an entire course on my own." Garrison said, not sure whether or not Scott had been fully briefed by the Professor or not. "Another thing. Do you have a gun lock box floating around here somewhere or should I pick on up back at home?"
Scott tilted his head, thinking for a moment. "Not anymore, I don't think. I think Madelyn took hers with her when she moved to Scotland... maybe best to bring your own." He nodded his head towards the double-doors at the end of the hallway. "Library. One of the showpieces of the place, really... I spent a lot of time here when I was sixteen."
Inside, it was fairly quiet. "Too quiet for midterms," Scott observed to Garrison. "Maybe they're all studying in their rooms."
"Yes, because living inside a fabulous and more importantly co-ed mansion, study is exactly what I'd be doing." Kane grinned, looking around the library. It was impressive, just like the librarian who was seriously putting out the 'wrong equipment' vibe. Shame.
"Got to admit, this is all very impressive, Scott. You grew up in here, right?"
Scott nodded. "I was sixteen when the Professor found me in an orphanage in Nevada. At the time I couldn't control my optic blasts, so I was functionally blind. He brought me here, figured out a way to restrain them while giving me back my sight... and well, the rest is history." He leaned back against one of the tables, his gaze roaming the library briefly. "There were only a handful of us back then, and not much of a school, really. Most of the growth's come within the last three or four years. The student body's got some specific characteristics, too... most of our students are those with high-level, unusual, or maladaptive powers they need help learning how to control, or they come from assorted difficult situations. Often both."
"I've heard a little. Look, one thing you should know, Scott. I'm not down here to dictate anything to you guys, or change how you do what you do. But just so we're clear, I'm also not going to use the badge as a shield for students who have fucked up." He held up his hand to forestall an interruption. "Marie talked about, what's his name, John Allerdyce to me when she was up in Canada. I'm not suggesting that you or the Professor would even necessarily ask, but just so we're clear right off the bat. If one of your kids ends up in a situation they should be facing a court, the best I can do for you is to go back home in Toronto."
Scott met Garrison's eyes levelly. "So long as you recognize that for all that we have occasionally shielded students we maybe shouldn't have, we've also from time to time kept them from being treated unfairly by the authorities for the simple fact that they're mutants. Remind me to give you a proper briefing on the corrupt excuse for a local police force we have around here. And introduce you to Laurie Collins. Sweet kid we got off a completely unjustified charge of attempted murder. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and had the wrong genes."
"I'm not going to see anyone hauled off without due process or railroaded into something by some jerkwater hick trooper. Remember, I am a federal officer, which means I am required by law to hold local forces in a certain level of contempt." Garrison shook his head. "Past that, you got someone with a bum rap and I can give you all the support you need. But the only thing I can do for someone that deserves to be in front of a judge is make sure they get a fair one. Some people see different things from the badge, Scott."
Garrison stretched for a moment and shrugged. "So, about the only thing left is to show me where to park my car."
Scott inclined his head towards the library door. "I'll show you the garage. And as for the police," he said as they headed back out of the library and down the hall, "we do at least have some decent people in the DA's office. Balances the FoHers wearing badges to at least a certain extent."
"Let me talk to the Bureau. I know Fred Duncan isn't big on local cops roughing up mutants, and being the big dumb Mountie has it's advantages when it comes to beltfillers." Kane grinned. "Just stick my head in, ask what it's all aboot, eh? Throws them right off every time."
Scott laughed quietly as he opened the door to the garage. He hit the lights, and the front door started to roll open. "Some of the cars are out," he said, "but none of them have designated parking spots. And we've got plenty of space for yours in here."
Garrison looked around at all the sports cars and expensively modified motorcycles. "So, obviously you guys are getting paid a hell of a lot more than I am." He said dryly, fishing for his keys as they both stepped out of the garage and on to the circular drive. He's left his
car near the garage, parked on the side of the road.
"Well, most of the really nice cars belong to the Professor," Scott said with a perfectly straight face, following Garrison out. "If I didn't know how ethical he was about using his power I'd think that he'd implanted post-hypnotic suggestions so that none of the kids ever swipe them for a joyride. Because none of them ever have. I think I considered taking one out when I was about seventeen - I'm not sure, because all of a sudden I was sitting in the library studying."
"Yeah, see that? Falls well under the 'kinda creepy' category." Garrison walked over to his leprously off-white Crown Victoria and popped the trunk. He'd have to go and get the rest of his things from his apartment soon, but the two suitcases would do for now.
Scott stopped, raising an eyebrow at the car. "Well. That is... quite the car. Um. Sentimental value, I'm guessing?" He grinned at Garrison to let him know that he was kidding -mostly.
"Hmm?" Garrison looked up from his trunk. "No, not at all. Why?" He leaned over to look down the side, wondering if maybe someone had damaged it while he was in the mansion or something.
"Really? Oh, okay then." Scott managed to compose his _expression. "It just... has a lot of character, that's all."
"I'd say so." Garrison pulled his suitcases out and dropped them, coming around to pat the hood of the car. "This is a 1997 Crown Victoria Police Special, with a 250 horsepower V8 engine, body on frame rear wheel drive construction, fire suppression and the 75 mile per hour rear crash test. The wheels are 17 inch steel rimmed non-deflating units, and both side panels and the trunk are Kevlar layered ballistic panels rated up to fifty caliber. They won't let you keep the really good police armor at retirement, but that just lifts about a ton of the weight and gives you another thirty miles an hour on top of the normal top speed, which is just over two hundred standard rate."
Garrison gave him an incredibly smug smile. "Which means this car, built in Talbotville, Ontario I might add, can not only catch any of those fabulously expensive sports cars in there, but also grind it down like a beer can at the TwoFour when it does."
Scott coughed. "The grinding, maybe..." He grinned, then waved a hand at the garage. "You can have your pick of parking spots. I'll let you get... um, it all squared away and meet you back inside to show you the suite?"
"Sounds like a plan, Scott." Garrison nodded as he tossed his cases into the front seat beside him. "I'd say I'll be careful, but as you see, I'm not that worried about my paint job."
And now time for old friends, as Marie comes calling.
Garrison Kane took off his regulation stetson, grinning as he spun it in his hands before setting it down on the end table of the room that he had been assigned. It was always entertaining to watch the reaction people had to the full RCMP dress uniform. Especially the students as he'd walked through.
Marie had just gotten back from class when she heard some of the students talking about a strange man in a red jacket with a funny hat. Questioning one of the boys, she following in the direction he pointed until she passed an open doorway. Leaning up against the doorframe, a huge grin spread across her face as she crossed her arms. "Well, look what the cat dragged in," she drawled.
"You know me. Always following the pussy." Garrison unsnapped the collar button on his red serge jacket as he turned. "If it isn't, wait don't tell me, Rogue right? Isn't that what you get called in those spectacularly tight leathers you keep parading around in for CNN." He grinned and walked over to lean on the doorway, looking down at her. "How are you doing, Marie?"
Rolling her eyes at him, her grin grew wider. "Well, those leathers are quite flattering to my figure," she said with a wink. "Ah haven’t been too busy: just been set on fire a couple times, gotten a little crack headed, y’ know, the usual." The fact that her expression didn’t waver was evidence that she had dealt with those issues pretty well by this point. "So what in the sam hill are you doing down here?" she asked, poking Garrison gently in the stomach.
"If you can believe it, I'm here under orders." Kane snorted, obviously amused by the whole process. "Canadian government’s completely reshuffling the Flight programs. Since the X-Men are currently the only successful non-military group of mutant specialists in operation, they want to know how. Bit of a trade off, really. In exchange for letting me oversee the teams and how they operate, the X-Men get an unofficial pass to operate in Canada as long as I'm around."
She raised an eyebrow, waiting for the punch line, until she realized he was serious. "Ah guess success is relative," she said, thinking about the X-Men’s track record.
"Hey, you know that I'm not all that impressed with how you guys do business, but both my government and yours pulled some strings to make this happen. They sound pretty serious." Garrison shrugged and finally pulled off the red jacket, hanging it up carefully. He was still in the requisite tan pants, knee high mirror polish black boots and white collared shirt. "So where's furry, grumpy and psychotic? He still owes me drinks."
Marie giggled and then glanced up at the clock. "Well, he might already be at Harry’s; either that or he’s probably stomping around the DR." She wondered how her Canadian friend would react to the nice little modified room downstairs. "Ah probably still owe you a drink or two myself and Ah’m old enough to have them in the good ol’ US now too."
"Really? There's something savagely wrong about a country that makes you wait until twenty-one to drink, eh?" He sat down on the bed and tackled his first boot. "You're also old enough for everything else too. That uniform reeled anyone in yet?"
"Oh yeah, Ah’m a real prize package. Ah got all the men just lining up," she said wryly. "Ah’ve got all the qualities a guy is lookin’ for in a gal after all: cute, sweet and deadly." Her words were less bitter than they would have been before she and Doug had dated, but she still couldn’t stop herself from the obvious comment. "And how many girlfriends do you have in this town so far?" she teased. "That uniform must be a real babe magnet."
"I think I picked up about six walking through the halls. The downside is that I doubt the oldest is eighteen. Now you know that's normally not an issue for me," Garrison pulled off his other boot and grinned wickedly at her. "but US law is a little different. Guess I'll need a leather suit of my own."
He got up from the bed and gave her a one armed hug. "Despite the fact that you can crush a man's head like a beer can, you're still a catch. And I say that without you showing it all off at the moment, so it's not just a line, eh."
"Hey, Ah wouldn’t be opposed to you in leathers. But those are my charges you’re talking about, so don’t expect me to encourage the swooning. Ah’ve got some good stories Ah could tell them." She smiled up at him. "And Ah’m deeply touched; a real compliment there, and me not showing any cleavage. You’re going soft."
"I'm just priming you before I get you drunk and grope you. And if you ever tell them about that night in Toronto , I will swear on high that the only reason you were left wearing nothing but a checkerboard flag was because we did it." Garrison looked threatening as he paused. "Twice."
He flipped open the top of his suitcase. "And unless you're the one looking for the free show, you're going to need to give me a private moment to change my pants. No pressure, you know."
Marie chuckled, sticking her tongue out briefly. "No one would ever believe you. Ah am way outta your league." Raising an eyebrow, she added. "And it’s not like Ah’ve never gotten that particular show before." Walking out of his room, she closed the door behind her.
Typically, the Canadian ends up at the bar to collect some drinks Logan owes him.
Garrison Kane walked into Harry's, having followed Marie's directions to get down there. She had said she'd be along later, having to finish a couple of details at the school before she could join them. He walked through the front, past the bar, and quickly spotted Logan sitting in one of the side booths. He leaned at the bar to place an order, and walked over.
"You still owe me, like, six drinks, Old Man." Garrison said, sitting down across from Logan, who peered at him over the top of the paper. "I told you the Ti-Cats didn't have a prayer against the Argos."
Logan snorted in amusement. "You slumming, Garrison, or has Ottawa finally granted your request to throw my ass in jail?" he asked.
"Hey, I only asked the once, and that was for a perfectly legitimate reason. Who the fuck cheers for the Rangers in a Toronto bar?" Garrison grinned and leaned back in his chair. "Besides, I only believe you need heavy medication and severe therapy. Preferably shock therapy, with those big electrodes."
The waitress came over with a pitcher of beer and a pair of shots. "I, uh, got started on the medication part."
Logan grinned ferally. "All right, you convinced me. You can stay." he said, reaching for one of the shots. "And shock therapy's been tried. Didn't take." he said with a slight grimace. "A guy lookin' for a scrap cheers for the Rangers in a Toronto bar. Thought you knew this. Besides, Walt through it was a hoot."
"Walt is also insane." Garrison took a sip from his beer and grinned. "How you been, Logan? Heather said to say hi."
"Comes with the turf." he grinned by way of reply. Walt was one of the few people on the planet that Logan honestly _liked_. "You got her number? I should really call her. Got some stuff to talk about with her." he said with just a faint lessening of his grin. He'd be damned if he was going to show weakness in front of _Garrison_. He'd never hear the end of it. He downed his shot in a single smooth swallow, savoring the burn of the alcohol before his body neutralized it.
"Give her a call. She said that she and Mac haven't heard from you in a while. Neither have I, but that's because you still owe me money."
Garrison picked up his shot and gunned it back. The truth was, he generally liked Logan. They hadn't been as close as he had been with Marie, but part of that was age. Most of Alpha Flight had been over thirty when they were up there, leaving Garrison and Marie as the kids of the outfit.
Still, he'd shown up with the rest for his mother's funeral, and they had shared some epic drinking nights in various Canadian cities. It had always been Logan's anger that had created distance; Garrison intense concern over the lack of control that he was sometimes susceptible to.
"As for being down here, if you can believe it, I'm here officially. I'm the new liaison for the Canadian government to the Xavier school."
"Holy shit. Who'd you piss off to get that assignment?" he asked, taking a deep swallow of beer. "They call it the madhouse, and most times they're right on the money. Overly-hormonal teenagers, a mixed bag of instructors, and a Cause." he said, the capital letter plain.
"Come to think of it, kid, you'll fit right in."
"Remind me to find ways to hurt you later." Garrison said sourly. "Department H has re-authorized the Alpha Flight program, but they want a total overhaul of procedures. That includes an indepth analysis of current successful examples of the modal, the only one of which is the X-Men. So I'm here to watch, maybe help out, and tell my government how you guys do things and why they work."
Kane finished the second shot. "And if you want to, you know, give me a list of the particularly overly-hormonal female teens, aged eighteen or so, I just might accidentally buy a few of your drinks." He said, mostly joking.
Logan whistled through his teeth. "Damn, kid, you did wind up nose-deep in a giant pile of shit." he said with amusement. "And I think I'll let you cut your own swath through the overly-hormonal teens. But if you harass Marie I'll break both your arms." he said in a friendly sort of a way. "Kid's had a bad enough time of it. Come to think of it, if you want to get your wick wet in royalty, we got some Attillanese brats for you to go chase." he said.
"I think I'll pass. The RCMP might get pissed at me starting an international incident with visiting royalty, you know?" Garrison grinned. "As for Marie, it is both my duty and pleasure to harass her. Because if I don't, she does even worse to me while calling me a wimp and making chicken noises at me. I still have nightmares about the chicken noises."
He finished his second shot and refilled his glass. "Oh, and she'll be here in, like, ten minutes."
Logan quirked an eyebrow. "We're going to need more beer." He observed, then flagged down a barmaid to bring a couple more pitchers of Moosehead. "Welcome to Xavier's, Garrison. It's a real piece of work some days, but all-in it's worth it." he pontificated around pulls from his pint.
"That's what they all tell me, which it why I'm mostly focusing on dread." He said, looking around the bar as they talked. "So, I heard all the stories from the two of you, and Jean-Paul before he fucked off back to Quebec. You're back, things have changed. Tell me what I'm walking back into, eh?"
Logan just grinned ferally at the younger man and said nothing. "Big bad Mountie like you should be able to figure the score all on his own. Besides, I wouldn't want to bias you one way or the other." He added, then downed the last of his pint and refilled it. "But there's no harm in the basics. Team's basically a pool system - op comes up, the COs pull whoever's best suited for what's coming down out of who's available. Team's got a nasty habit of needing a good bit of psych downtime..." and then he wolf-grinned at Garrison - "so manpower's inconstant."
"Well, having the Charles Xavier on hand for consultation must help. I met with Ororo Munroe earlier. I'm guessing she's one of your team leaders. She gave me the basics on training and things. The other one, Summers? He gave me the school tour." Garrison shrugged as he applied himself to his drink. "Is it true you guys use a military grade stealth bomber as transport?"
"Spy plane, but yeah." he said. "Tweaked all to hell and back – they tell me one of the guys at the training facility's an Aero nut, and Summers handles all the hands-on crap. Faster'n shit and stealthier than anything with wings has any right to be. Only been blown once." he said, racking his memory to be sure. "Nice ride."
"Beats out the helicopter." Kane said, slightly envious of their facilities. "I don't know if they're even going to drop me on the team or anything, eh? The Director wants it, but it's up to Xavier. Reminds me, you teaching advanced hand to hand again? Eugene's got some notes to the stuff you guys worked up in Canada, and he wants to expand them."
Logan nodded. "I give seminars and advanced training to whoever wants it." he said diplomatically. "Purely voluntary, but I usually get a decent turnout. We got some real hand-to-hand bunnies on the team and sharpening their skills keeps me from accumulating too much rust. And shit, Judd's another one I need to go call. Get his ass down here, go get pissed. See what's still standing when he sobers up."
"I'll make sure to arrest you after you've sobered up." Kane said dryly, over the top of his glass. He'd mostly avoided the kinds of scrapes Logan sought out while drinking, but the man was smart enough to stick to bars where everyone else was there for the same thing.
Both men looked up when Marie came through the door.
"You don't have law-enforcement power in the States." he said with a grin, then waved Marie over. "Hope the barmaid gets here with the beer soon." he noted. "If I'm gonna have to sit here and watch you to bat your eyelashes at each other, I'm going to need a lot of beer."
"You know my eyelashes are for you alone, Logan. Besides," Garrison dug into his pocket and put the badge on the table. "I'm part of an agency swap, with the FBI. That means all I have to do it wait for you guys to cross state lines, which you two maniacs will, and then get you." Kane grinned and drained his glass.
Logan grunted at the sight of the badge. "That's one way to kill a truly epic piss-up in the making." he noted sourly. "You're still no fun at all, kid."
"Oh come on boys, you're both pretty," Marie chimed in as she settled into the booth. Leaning over, she grabbed Logan's mug and took a swig. She grinned at the two men as she set the now empty glass down. "Can't leave you two alone for a minute without one of ya startin' a pissing contest, can Ah?"
Logan just grinned and poured Marie a beer. "Gar here is still trying to compensate for his incredibly small dick by maligning his betters." he taunted, then took a deep drink of his own beer. "But since he brings news and Heather's phone number, I think we can overlook his shortcomings."
"Oh, you didn't hear. I spent a year with a new biotechnology group. They've replaced it with a modified organic combat model that comes with five different attachments. Seriously, it's bloody beautiful!" Garrison stood up and started unbuckling his pants. "You guys have got to see it. The rotor part at least!"
Marie's frantic motion for him to sit back down was greeted with a grin, as he finally took his chair again and refilled the mug Marie had stolen. "You guys are no fun."
"Ah just want to be able to show my face here again," she said with a relieved smile as he sat back down. "'sides, it's not like Ah won't have more opportunities to admire your upgrade later, unless you've improved your poker face," she said with a wink.
Logan grinned the grin of a truly happy man as he leaned back and listened to the kids squabble. For the first time in months, he actually felt content. "Get a room, you two." he growled affectionately.
"I keep trying, she keeps saying no. I even offered to pay, and that earned me a particularly nasty threat." Garrison shrugged and sipped from his beer. "I didn't even know you could do that with a barbeque and a skunk. Must be a Southern thing."
Marie pretended to look horrified, but it was obvious she was enjoying the banter. "Keep testing me and you'll find out exactly how it works," she teased. "But don't worry, Ah'm sure you'll have ladies beatin' down your door once they see you in full dress. You'll forget all about lil' ol' me."
"True. Sounds like a good plan, actually. I know you'll end up scratching at my door at 3am no matter what I do." Garrison ducked his head at the flung peanuts from Marie. "What? I could have been talking about Logan."
"Only in your dreams, Mountie." Logan growled in a friendly way.
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Date: 2006-11-10 02:14 pm (UTC)Some of us were good boys and sent that memo when we got here.
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Date: 2006-11-10 05:36 pm (UTC)Second, please tell me he's going to wear the brown uniform more often than not. Because that's a great uniform.
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Date: 2006-11-10 05:53 pm (UTC)For the most part. Kane will be in normal street clothes, a suit, or the leathers. He'll only wear his uniforms either while on duty in his capacity as an RCMP officer, or if he feels the occasion calls for it.
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Date: 2006-11-10 05:58 pm (UTC)