xp_logs | Friday afternoon, Forge & Jennie

Forge has made a reputation for building miracles. However, sometimes the expense reports stack up...

"Forge, darling? Do you have a minute?" Jennie said from the doorway in his workshop, spiral notebook in one hand and packet of computer printouts in the other. She had been going through that weeks' purchase orders and while Forge was always given plenty of leeway when it came to equipment orders, this month it was getting to be a hair shy of ridiculous.

A muffled reply came from under what looked like a disassembled air conditioning unit mated with an old-school arcade game. With a clatter of tools and wires, Forge extricated himself and stood up. "Is it an emergency?" he asked as he brushed dust and loose particled from his coveralls. "I think I'm about to make a breakthrough with the remote presence integration system, I figured out how to crosswire the data transfer bus with the fractal memory management hardware, which is going to drop latency into, like, Planck units. I am truly a god among men, and as such, I use my deific powers to declare that yes, I have a minute. What's up?"

"Okay, so," she flipped open her notebook, which was color-coded with plastic dividers until she came to the section in purple, specifically marked for Forge. "This month your requests, are, well. I know the professor gives you a long leash but, dude, seriously? Vanafium steel? Pressurized tetrafluorostyrene? Neodymium magnets?" She flipped the notebook closed. "The professor is rich, but he's not endlessly rich."

"High-temperature exhaust nozzles need to be able to withstand the heat inside the Blackbird's combustion chamber," Forge insisted. "Vanadium steel holds up adequately after it's treated. No, it's not cheap, but it's better than the jet blowing an engine out at Mach 2. Tetrafluorostyrene, was it? That's... that's..."

He fumbled for a moment, then moved over to a stack of printouts, also conveniently color-labeled. "Aha! Pressurized tetrafluorostyrene! I'm developing a new sintered gel kinetic dispersal system for the X-Men uniforms. Impact and ballistic protection while remaining lightweight and flexible. Eh? Eh?" the inventor jibed with a pointing gesture. "And the magnets... well, we need magnets. Because... magnets."

Jennie sighed and put her fists on her hips. "A new gas projection chromatograph?"

"Okay, that one was totally Paige's fault!" Forge replied defensively. "She said we needed a new one because I... kept... oh. I kind of scavenged the carborundum laser from the old one to do nanoetching on some microcircuits. Yeah, my bad."

"I mean, we're all for you experimenting and defying the laws and physics and stuff, because hey, saves our lives and everything, but this isn't a toy store," Jennie flipped her notebook back open and made a few more scribbles. "When it's a battle between you and your magnets versus whether or not we have all of our antibiotics in stock, guess who's going to win?" She paused and then blinked. 'Wow, I just totally sounded like Dr. Voght there, didn't I? 'this isn't a toy store, torsavitch...'"

Forge held up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. Holster the sidearm, sheriff. I'll pay more attention to cost analysis when I can. But I need new materials to work with, Jennie. While I am perfectly capable of salvaging parts," he indicated his latest project, "do you really want mission-critical equipment relying on stuff I picked up at a flea market? Which, by the way, great place to find rapid-oscillation micromotors from those old sewing machines... ooh, oscillating ion filter plus charged particle stream plus anion-cation repulsion generates a standing plasma wave... hold on, I think I just invented a lightsaber..." He fumbled around his workbench, finally grabbing a marker and scribbling notes directly on a countertop. "But yeah, budget, let me shows you it. I get the message."

"Well, good," Jennie said, even though she thoroughly didn't believe him. "Because I don't want to have to come down here and tattoo ecomomic recession on your forearm later just so you'll remember that the things that you buy have to come from somewhere."

"Usually Japan," Forge said dismissively, looking up from his calculations. "Hey, you didn't happen to bring a sandwich or something down here with you, did you?"

Jennie sighed. "No, Forge, I didn't. I'm your friend, not your maid," she flipped the notebook shut. "Supposedly anyway," she muttered.

Forge paused, then capped his pen and laid it down on the work surface. "Ah," he said quietly. "That. I'm sorry. I've been absolutely swamped lately, and I know over the past months I've said some stupid things and not been as good a friend as I should. Trying to juggle my responsibilities to the team with a relationship and a job and my degree, then trying to fit in time for my research... I suppose I have been a jerk at times, yeah?"

Jennie shrugged. "A little," she said quietly. "I'm not exactly up for friend of the year either. I've said some thing that I regret. Some days are just too much." She sighed, wondering if it was best to leave or not, before deciding to stay. "We all grow apart, I guess. You and me. Me and Marius. Or hell, even Gibney. Look at us. We live in the same house, are on the same team, and I can go days, weeks without speaking to any of you. 'Cause we're all busy."

"I wonder sometimes," Forge said quietly, "I wonder if what we do is becoming more than who we are. Some days... yeah, I don't really know. There's just so much, and..." A smile crossed his face briefly. "Hell with it, you know. Priorities are mutable. You, me, Marius, and Kyle. Let's go into this city this weekend and just have some fun. I promise not to spend too much of the Professor's money."

Jennie smiled and leaned against the doorframe. "I'd like that, yeah. Let's get the band back together, Elwood." She looked back up at Forge. "Seriously dude, magnets?"

"Magnets are fun."