Remix: Man, I feel like a Woman

[x-polarisstar.livejournal.com]

It's time for trust exercises. Blindfolds galore, terrible coordination and lots of bitching about how stupid this is. And then things get worse.



Lorna looked at the blindfold the perky counselor had dropped in her hand before dashing off the next group with an energy that had to be coming from amphetamines. She looked at her "trust partner". She looked back at the blindfold. "...okay. You first." Lorna held the black fabric out like it was a snake that was going to bite her.

"You have got to be joking." he said, wishing for a cigar and maybe a tall cold one. With a sigh, he picked up the blindfold and tied it expertly over his eyes. Once the blindfold was firmly in place he cracked his neck slowly with a cascade of metallic popping noises. Just to fix things into his own mind he inhaled deeply through his nose.

"I didn't make the rules. The crazy child in the scary khaki uniform did." Lorna frowned then gingerly reached out and took Logan's hand. "Sooner we get this done, the sooner I can go find those mythical spas that Ororo promised me." She tugged him lightly and started walking across the wide field outside the mess hall.

"Spa, nothing. All I want is some cold ones and a good Cuban." he groused. The mess hall was making his stomach growl - he was hungry and didn't have much of a breakfast. No bacon, no sausage, no steak. Lousy joint, truth be told. He let her lead him around like a blind man even though he truly didn't need the help.

"You have your relaxation rituals, I have mine. No one said that you had to strip down and head to the steam room. In fact I think we'll all be grateful that you don't." She walked a bit faster.

"Because celery-topped skeletons are just so attractive." he muttered under his breath. "Ya know, taking some steam might be kinda nice."

"You're just saying that to horrify me," Lorna rolled her eyes and stepped up the pace. progressing to a quick walk. Must get this over with. "It won't work. I think they're segregated. They're not that serious about team building. Boys have cooties."

Logan just snorted at that and let her lead him around like a damned dog on a leash. "Cooties. What are you, twelve?" he snickered.

"All those extra senses and you can't hear a joke? Jogging," she warned as she broke into a light jog, tugging him along behind her. This was the stupidest thing ever. Bar none. "Don't be so weirdly literal."

"Jokes I got no problem with. I also have no trouble believing that you act like you're twelve. Or at least chasing after them." he commented as he effortlessly broke into a jog.

Lorna gritted her teeth. "Do you have to practice being this insufferable or is it just a gift? Because I'll tell you, you could dial it down about ten notches and still be in competition for most annoying on the team. You're the reason we had to go on this stupid retreat, you know that right? The rest of us don't have team-building issues." Her jog shifted up to a moderate run, the ground was a bit uneven here but he was the one with the super-reflexes right?

"Am I cutting into your purging time, Dane?" he asked pleasantly as they sped up into a run. "Or is there a hot shoe sale somewhere that you're dying to get to in a hurry? Oh, wait, that's right! You're still looking for the spa! Must be hard for you out here in the sticks." he told her.

"If you're interested in the details of my mental illness, I'm happy to share. Purging was never part of my routine, as it happens. Diet pills, sure. Over-exercising, of course. Chewing and spitting, quite often since I have to taste the things I cook. But not purging." There wasn't any shame or apology in her voice, though there was a slight bit of a dare. "You're right about the roughing it. It's been a long time since I went hunting." She broke into a flat out run.

"Hunting bargains doesn't count, Dane." he said, speeding up to keep up with the pace she was setting. "Neither does hunting down a parking spot. Closest you've ever come to hunting your own dinner was picking out a steak at the grocery store." Which reminded him - it'd been too long since the last time he went hunting. Needed to fix that.

"I can flush out, shoot, feather and clean a duck as well as the gun afterward." She was feeling a bit self-righteous, or perhaps just queasy. "You don't know anything about me and...oh god, I need to stop." She let go of his hand as a wave of dizziness made the world spin and her steps stumble.

Logan started to say "Somehow, I'm having trouble believing that." He got as far as "Somehow..." before the nausea ripped through him like a tidal wave. The hand on his went slack, which was good as he stumbled over something in the path before him. Instinct took over and he rolled out of his fall, but something was definitely wrong.

"What the hell was that?" she asked, in a voice that was definitely not her usual tenor.

Lorna turned and gaped at...well, it had to be Logan, didn't it? It wasn't as though there was anyone else here unless someone had taken the grouchy man and replaced him with an equally cranky woman. She put her hand to her head, still disoriented and her fingers dug into...short hair? Why...wait... This didn't feel right... Carefully, trying not to scream, Lorna shifted her stance a bit wider and looked down to confirm that she was indeed no longer...her. "We should get back," Lorna said and jumped a bit at the sound of the light baritone.

"Ya think?" Logan asked, eyeing the new protuberances sticking out from her chest. Damn, they were sensitive. Breathe lightly, Logan. That's it. Her voice sounded like she'd spent the last thirty years soaked in gin and cigarettes. Scowling, she stood up and stuck a foot out, noting that her jeans were now _well_ below the ends of her feet. Popping her claws, Logan swore sulphurously when two - not three - obligingly erupted from the backs of her hands. Slicing the ends of her jeans off, she retracted her claws and then sniffed the air warily. The initial nausea-wave had worn off, thank goodness, but she still felt - wrong. Off-balance, off-center, and way too wide apart for her taste.

Lorna rolled her eyes, "No, I'm just saying that because I think they might be getting lonely." She was actually sort of afraid to move. Everything was strained to bursting and it wasn't like her clothes had been form-fitting to begin with. "Also I need new clothes. Like...now." Boxers...who could she steal boxers from? ...Ew.

"I'm mostly good." she said after a moment of self-reflection. "But someone's gonna pay for this little stunt." she promised with blood in her eye. "Think you can keep up, Dane?" she asked amusedly. And without another word she took off at a lope back towards the rest of the group and the Queen of the Perky People.

-----------

"Would it make me a bad person if I realized I hate Nature?"

The question almost sounded rhetorical, but Clarice decided to respond anyways. This was a trust exercise, not a 'ignore your blindfolded teammate because you think it is silly' exercise, "Not unless you set it all on fire. Fire bad," at least in nature. Clarice liked nature, but in small, non-teamwork building ways. Preferably near shoe stores as well. "Oh, roots. Step over it."

Jim attempted to do as instructed, but underestimated and managed to catch the root with his toe anyway. "Ow. Okay, from this exercise I'm taking that I can trust my teammate, I just can't follow directions. I think I liked the robbery better." He did not let Cyndi add because this is about the stupidest thing in the universe because this exercise only needed one teenaged girl.

"I wish I'd've been there. Potential free jewelry, rockstar. You're too tall, duck under the branches here." Clarice walked under them without a problem. "This is so stupid. I mean, we risk our lives together all the freakin' time, why should this make you trust me? Either I've got your six or you don't go out with me on missions, simple as that."

Much to Jim's relief, he successfully did not slam his head into a tree branch. It was sad that the trees were doing him more physical damage than yesterday's armed men. "I don't think you and I were really the target audience, but it would have been a little too obvious to just single out two or three people. Ororo's just doing her job and treating the team equally." She definitely made sure there was an equal balance of suffering this weekend. Yeah, it's dumb. We all have to make sacrifices for the good of the team. Suck it up and bond.

Jim sighed and tried to shift the conversation to a topic less likely to provoke the snark. "So, uh, the team. Now that you're an X-Man are you going to stick with your trainee name?"

"What's wrong with Tinky Winky?" she asked innocently. She loved the subtle little torture her codename gave the men on the team. And Storm.

"Um, well." A small, whippy branch grazed his arm as they shuffled through the forest. "There's definitely a certain intimidation factor, but I don't know. The black leather conveys a different, um . . . nuance." The fact that the codename was a daily reminder of the moment Jim had begun to realize it would be safer to never interact on journals, ever, was purely coincidental.

"The black leather is because Xavier is a secret bondage fetishist," Clarice replied sagely, with the wisdom of someone who was completely bullshitting. "Um...I don't think my chicken tender lunch went down so well...."

Whatever inquiry Jim could have made about questionable chicken was cut off by his own wave of nausea. For a moment he wondered if it was psionically-transmitted sympathetic symptoms before realizing Clarice's hand had pulled away from his shoulder and, despite extensive training, he still had the telepathic receptiveness of a brick. Jim shelved the confusion to allow for the more immediate concern, which was to dry-heave.

Her nausea subsiding without revealing the aforementioned chicken tenders (thank goodness), Clarice shifted her shoulders awkwardly. When did her shorts get so tight? "You okay?" she asked, her voice noticeably deeper. What the flying fuck? When did Haller get long hair? Looking down at herself, she had surprisingly masculine arms. And legs. And OH. THAT was why her shorts were too tight. "Whiskey Tango Foxtrot."

"What was--" The words came out too high. Jim coughed to clear it and put his hand to his throat, then realized something was missing. Like an adam's apple. Okay, screw trust. Jim tore off his blindfold and stared at his hand. It was not only too thin, but also half-covered by a shirt cuff that had been perfectly fitted not thirty second ago. The implications of this registered a split-second after the sensory input from the rest of his body began to read. Jim found he had only three words.

"Oh, come on . . ."

Making a face at girl!Haller, she sat down abruptly on the ground. Screw dirtying her shorts now. "That's it!" she announced, "I'm taking my toys and going home!" Really, this was just rude. Spontaneous gender swapping was so.....TACKY! "I want answers!"

Ignoring Haller's stunned look, she opened a disk and teleported away. This was seriously uncool.

"Clarice--" Jim started, then trailed off as his teammate disappeared. Too slow.

Great. So far for 2007 he had Charles as a father, the complete dissolution and reunification of self, and now an additional X chromosome. The fleeting urge to curl up in the leaves and abandon all hope was not helped in any way that the part of his brain devoted to Cyndi looked down at their chest and couldn't help but think, . . . aw.

Jim sighed, stuffed the blindfold in her pocket, took out her cell and tried to figure out how you phrased "Help, I'm a girl" to your coworkers.

-----------

Grumbling softly to himself behind the blindfold he'd just put over his eyes, Alex groped around for Jean. "I still don't see why I’m doing this. I thought this was for team building and I'm not a member of the team!" He protested again weakly.

"Odd numbers and your brother has a strange sense of humor." Jean caught Alex's flailing hands, steadying him slightly as he stepped towards her voice. "Some would say evil, but I'm not that kind."

Alex snorted. "I bet he's getting some sort of odd joy out of this. And yeah, don't I know it." He felt a bit better once she grabbed his hand. "Okay, so now what?"

"I think we wander and I avoid steering you into trees while you avoid thinking I'm going to." Jean grinned and, though he couldn't see it, it came across in her voice.

It was good thing Alex liked Jean now, because that obvious smile in her voice made him slightly uneasy. "Too late.'

Jean laughed lightly at that. "Hey, relax. I promise, I'll be good." Tugging lightly on his hand, she began to move slowly about the clearing, carefully steering him around other pairs of X-Men.

After a few minutes, Alex fidgeted. "Okay now what? We go round in circles?"

"Er, possibly." Jean eyed the other groups, wondering if this was meant to go deeper. "I mean, we could head out into the woods but it might not be wise." There was something nagging at her mind, although she couldn't quite tell what it was. Something felt... off

Alex too was beginning to feel slightly weird. He shook his head slightly, hoping to dislodge the feeling. "What's everyone else doing?" He asked by way of distraction.

"Well, some of them are doing trust falls, it looks like, but given I can bench press a bus from across a football field with my mind, it's not as though you need to worry about me not catching you if you fall."

"So by me doing all the trusting, am I guessing you don't trust me?" He said with a slight grin.

Jean grinned back. "Well, given the necessary hand holding component, it would take actual work for me not to be able to see where you were going if I was the blindfolded one - you'd have to trust me not to cheat, and no one who knows me trusts me not to do that. But I'm more than willing to let you catch me, as long as you're willing to answer
to Scott if you miss."

Alex paused for a minute. "Yeah Okay you got me there."

Jean snorted. "Or we could find somewhere out of view of the perk squad and you could ditch the blindfold while we simply relax..."

"I knew my brother married a smart woman." He said with a bright grin. "Lead on Mrs. Summers."

It didn't take long for her to find a little hideaway with a few trees between them and the main clearing. It even had a handy fallen tree to sit on, which Jean lead Alex to. "There we go, safe and sound and sufficiently un-perky."

With a sigh of relief, Alex took the blindfold off and sat down. "I know people call me perky but damn...if I'm ever that bad, put me out of my misery! Please!"

"Out of everyone's misery," Jean agreed, "but I can't see it coming to that." Oh, the strange was back, but now the weird buzzing in her head was amplified.

"I hope not...Do you feel something weird?" This time he didn't ignore the feeling because looking at Jean, she felt it too.

"Yeah," she said slowly, rubbing at her abdomen. "And... there's this echo. I don't think it's just us." Jean stood up and then abruptly sat back down, clutching her stomach as a wave of nausea overtook her.

Alex put a hand out to steady her, when he too felt a strange ache in his chest. He gritted his teeth until the odd feeling passed. "What's going on?" he asked more in general then just to Jean.

"I don't know," she said, curling up tightly and trying not to whimper.

He could have said something to that, except he was in the same state as her, curling up next her on the log, bracing against her so at least neither would fall to the ground.

It could have been five minutes or fifty by the time the dizziness and nausea had passed. Jean started to uncurl and then froze. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. It actually took her longer to process that there was something wrong with her body, because the finely honed telepathic sense which connected mental sensation to physical cause was screaming at her from down the link, from Alex, pressed into her shoulder, from her friends and teammates all around. Something was very wrong.

Alex just seemed to snap out whatever had gripped him. He couldn't immediately sense something was wrong, so he just turned to Jean to ask, "You alright?" Then he looked again. "Who are you!?"

Hands pressed into her temples and eyes squeezed shut, Jean fought to find her center in the midst of the mental barrage of strange.

There was something equally weird about Alex's voice, but the mental sense in her mind was definitely Alex, no question of that. Alex gone... physically funny. "It's all..." And there was something weird about her voice, too. Cracking her eyes open, Jean tried to focus on the world outside her head, but all she could manage was to stare at her ankles. Which she could see. That was... odd. But that was a dealable sort of odd. "My pants don't fit." And her voice had dropped an octave...

Despite not knowing who this person was, Alex reached out his hands to steady them. But even though..."Wait...Jean?" He asked softly, in slight disbelief. What had happened to her?

"Yes, of course." And finally Jean looked up. And then stared. "Oh, holy God. Alex?" Cause it was Alex in her head, no question. And this would possibly explain the sickening weirdness in her mental/physical dimorphic association.

Alex blinked at the reaction and then looked down at himself. Or should he say herself? "Oh fuck...!"

Her brain hurt, and her shoes hurt, and her clothes didn't fit. "Yeah, you got that right." Jean sighed, burying his face in his hands.