Crystal and Forge - A Change in Plans

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After his conversation with Scott, Forge becomes distracted and forgets to meet his girlfriend for dinner. A rather displeased Crystal shows up at his suite and is more than a bit disconcerted when she discovers the reason for his forgetfulness.



Crystal stood at the entrance of the dining hall, waiting for Forge to arrive. She was actually waiting this time, as it was nearing ten minutes past the time they were supposed to meet for dinner. It wasn't like Forge to be late like this. Crystal was always punctual, and up until now, Forge had been, too. So then, the question was... where was Forge? Crystal was torn between being worried and annoyed, settling on a mixture of both, and when someone told her they'd seen Forge going into his suite almost an hour ago, Crystal set off to see if he was still there.

A few minutes later, Crystal's raps of wind sounded impatiently against the door to Forge's suite.

"Hm?" Forge shook his head, slightly roused from where he'd been sitting motionless on the couch for the past hour, a fact he only realized when he glanced over at the clock. "It's open," he called towards the door, trying to collect his thoughts.

When the door opened to show Crystal, however, he blinked a few times before looking sheepish and clapping a hand to his forehead. "We were going to have dinner, weren't we?" he groaned in disappointment.

"Yes, and I waited in front of the dining hall for ten minutes," Crystal informed Forge once she saw that he was not a) dead, b) deathly ill, or c) being savagely attacked by dinosaurs, ninjas, or zombies.

"I'm sorry," Forge said, standing up and motioning towards the couch, and then indicating the small black box open on the coffee table. "It's been, uh, kind of a mind-blowing day. I got a bit distracted."

Raising her eyebrows and wondering what in that box could be so interesting that it made Forge forget about their dinner plans, Crystal walked over to stand near the coffee table and looked inside the box. Upon catching sight of Forge's brand-new X-Men insignia inside, Crystal looked up at Forge. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh," Forge repeated. "He.. Cyclops, I mean, Scott. He said... he told me that he believed I could do a lot of good, being a full part of the team instead of just... you know, support." He wiped his hair back from his forehead, still staring down at the insignia with a dumbfounded look on his face. "It's been a while since someone believed in me like that," he said quietly, "that I could do some real good in the world."

Crystal nodded, knowing she should be supportive but having a hard time taking this in. "Of course you can, Forge. Look at everything you have been able to accomplish; look at everything you did for Attilan. How could anyone doubt that you could do quite a lot of good?"

Forge shook his head, looking somewhat embarrassed as he reached out to brush two metal fingertips over the black enameled insignias. "It's not just that, it's... I know my work, my inventions... they save lives, they improve people's quality of life. Inch by inch, I can build that better world that the Professor talks about."

"But building it isn't enough," he said with sudden firmness. "There's always going to be people trying to ruin it. People like the Preservers. Like the Brotherhood. Like Maximus. For every action, there needs to be an equal reaction. I can be a part of that reaction."

"So you will go off and fight, then," Crystal said in what was a half-question, half-statement.

"Not if I can help it," Forge countered, spreading his hands in a gesture of resigned acceptance. "But I know I won't always be able to avoid it. So that's why I'm training with Garrison. That's why I study strategy under Scott, to learn how to best use what I can do... here, you play chess, right?" He motioned to a board set up across the room from where he'd been playing a game with Doug over email. "A knight doesn't always have to directly threaten the king to force a victory. Sometimes it's about being the right person in the right place at the right time."

"I see." Crystal's gaze flickered to the box for a moment before returning to Forge. "You want this to be you, but you do not wish to become involved in an actual battle unless it is deemed necessary for you to do so?"

"This is what I do," Forge corrected Crystal quietly. "It isn't me. I'm more than just what I can do. And what I choose to do... this is what I choose. I wouldn't do it if I didn't believe in it, Crystal. And I... wait." He stopped, standing up and moving close to the Attilani princess. Slowly, he grinned. "Are you worried about me?"

"Should I be worried about you, Forge?" Crystal countered.

"Maybe a little," he answered, reaching down to catch one of her hands in his own, one metal thumb tracing over her knuckles. "But I can promise not to take any risks that I don't absolutely have to. I have no desire to be the hero from a hospital bed. Not when I have more enjoyable prospects to come back to," he added with a smile.

"You are attempting to distract me. Do not think that I do not realize what you are doing," Crystal warned Forge, although her hand tightened slightly around his. "I do not dote on those who are injured during X-Men 'missions'. I volunteer in the infirmary, yes, but I do not bring special food to or have great sympathy for those who repeatedly leave the school and the students, returning with wounds, infections, and broken bones, choosing to seemingly brag about their 'war injuries' in front of the students and I do not particularly care if the younger students do not have journal accounts; the older students are students too and do people really think that the younger students do not overhear the conversations of others?"

"I'm not choosing this because I think it's going to be 'cool'," Forge said with a sigh. "I'm doing it because I believe it needs to be done. And because I can, Crystal. Power exists to be used, and given the chance, I want to do as much good as I can." Letting go of Crystal's hand, he took a deep breath and steeled himself, pausing for a moment before continuing. "I don't have any responsibility to the students here, aside from maintaining the school's security. I chose that role because I believe in keeping people safe. I chose to accept the offer with the X-Men for the same reason. I hope you can understand that. Should I look at everything I've done and just say it's enough? That I can stop there?"

"Your absence from the school will not require the need for a substitute teacher, this is true," Crystal said, a frown beginning to cross her face.

"And besides," Forge added, "who looks to me as a role model anyway? If there are any students running around saying 'I want to be just like Forge when I grow up!', warn me now because that's a crisis in the making right there."

The frown deepened.

Was Forge even thinking about what he was saying? What he was implying, and what he sounded like right now? "Yes, I suppose there are many much more appropriate role models at the school," Crystal replied, and if Forge noted a bit of sarcasm in her voice, he wouldn't be mistaken. "Take Monet, for instance. A lovely young woman, is she not? Full of marvelous ideas on how we should treat the people we dislike or disagree with."

"Monet's a spoiled brat with the brain of a turnip," Forge remarked offhandedly. "Look, I know you don't approve of the X-Men. You don't think it's the proper role that people should aspire to. I just..." he shrugged and glanced back down at the box bearing the two insignia. "I think you're wrong."

"I never said that I do not approve of the X-Men," Crystal corrected him, eyes narrowing slightly. "To say that I disapprove of the idea of teachers being X-Men, or X-Men being teachers, whichever way you prefer to view it, is a much more accurate statement. However, as we have already noted, you are in charge of the security of the school but are not a teacher. Congratulations on your new... what are we supposed to call it, exactly? It is not a hobby... is it a job?"

"I have a job," Forge said matter-of-factly. "Scott tends to refer to the team as a calling. Ororo thinks of it as a vocation. Me... I don't know. I guess I'll find out." Carefully, he reached down to the table, closing the box and sliding it into his pocket. He sighed and brushed his hair away from his eyes, not looking at Crystal. "Would you still like to have dinner?" he asked in a tired voice.

"You do not mind having dinner with someone who does not choose to travel the world and use her abilities to save it?" Crystal asked, Forge's earlier comment about 'Power exists to be used' still in her mind.

Forge gave a quick smile as he met Crystal's eyes. "If you don't mind having dinner with an idealist who just might come back with a bruise or two from trying to build a better world."

"For an idealist, you seem to have developed a rather unusual penchant for receiving bruises," Crystal noted, linking her arm with his. "Shall we?"