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Scene: Lorna and Alison's suite, afternoon-ish, Tuesday.
Dramatis Personae: Lorna Dane and Remy LeBeau



Lorna walked stiffly up the stairs to her room, still sore though mostly healed. Shifting the box of stuff that she’d accumulated downstairs to her good hip, she tugged her loose jacket back up around her shoulders. She’d lost a good deal of weight in the past month and nothing seemed to fit right. She had been released by Dr. McCoy on an outpatient basis which meant, as far as she could tell, that he was willing to let her pretend that she was out of his care unless something went wrong. She could have waited for word to filter out to the rest of the school that she was being released—that would have netted her some help moving her stuff—but she decided against it simply because she was sick of people fussing. Alison would never forgive her. Lorna figured she could live with that. Shoving the door open, she dropped the box unceremoniously on the floor and leaned on the doorframe with a sigh, “Home, sweet...whatever.”

"Need a hand, chere?" A voice whispered in her ear, and she nearly screamed at the suddenness of it. "Help you move in den?" Remy said, leaning against the wall of the hallway.

“Don’t do that!” Lorna spun around to face the smirking man behind her. She fisted her hand against her heart, certain that she’d felt it stop. “Who are you?”

"I figured de others had issued a warning wit' de newletter." He said, and sketched an elaborate bow. "Remy LeBeau. Got a habit of turning up t' help de femmes, 'specially de pretty green haired ones."

"Dear god, there are other pretty green haired girls around here? Damn, and I thought I had the monopoly." She smiled at the exaggerated gesture, “I’m afraid I let my subscription lapse while I was in the tender care of the docs. Though I recognise the name from the journals. I’m Lorna Dane, resident magnetic psychopath.” She offered him a hand and a slightly broader smile.

"Ah, de femme wit de tiny costume. Remy is honoured." He grinned lecherously and bent to kiss the knuckles of her outstretched hand. "Guess you finally out of de hospital den?"

She laughed, “Just escaped, in fact. Hence this,” she nudged the box with her foot. “I left some of it down there. So, now that you’re a resident of the asylum, how do you like it?”

"When de assassin are not dropping through the windows and de bigots aren't trying t' hurl rocks through the windows, it's fine." The satire was thick in his voice. "What about you, chere?"

“About the same. When I’m not in the med-lab recovering from hideously unpleasant injuries, it’s a blast. Better here than home with the mob on my doorstep again because everyone’s favorite escaped madman happens to have the same power as me.” She shrugged and pushed off the doorframe, “Want to come in?”

"Always." Remy grinned and crossed the threshhold of her room. "So, you not just a resident here. What de you really do here, or is Remy not cleared t' know dat?"

She hesitated only a moment before seating herself on the couch, "I take classes some, teach some. Mostly I cook a lot. Just trying to learn how to be normal and a mutant at the same time, I guess." She wasn't lying. Polaris never even crossed her mind as something she "really did" here.

"Sound like more of a plan den most. Remy not even given all de information 'bout what goes on here." He smiled, shrugging. "Figure I hear at least down de road what happening."

She nodded, "I don't think anyone knows all of what's going on here and that included the mind-readers." She echoed his shrug. "Frankly, I don't want to know half of what going on around here. I've been through high school once, thanks very much." She bounced up again, unable to sit still after so long in a bed. "Would you like some coffee?"

"Oui, merci" He said. "Somet'ing as normal as a cup of coffee almost comical around here. Sure it not made by some alien group dat bankrolled de school?"

Lorna laughed and shook her head, "If an alien group is messing with my coffee, they had better be flying plastic ships." She crossed to the coffee-maker which was, as always, half-full and poured two cups. She sipped from hers and smiled, "Kona blend. Quite earth bound. Sugar and cream?"

"Non, black, merci." Remy accepted the cup from her, sipping lightly. "De hair is beautiful, chere." He said unexpectedly, and abruptly shifted gears. "So, dis place your future or you got other plans?"

She froze as his seemingly innocent compliment brought back memories of similar ones from Alex. She covered by fussing with her coffee, adding cream and sugar though she would have been happy drinking it black. “My parents want me to go back to college at some point and I’m inclined to agree with them. But for now, yeah, this is my place. At least until I get the hang of what all this mutant business means. What about you? How long are you planning on staying?"

"Depend how often de military send soldiers through the windows." Remy took a long drink of his coffee. "Not much for de hero, and Remy not looking t' sign up for a war."

"In my experience, it's happened twice. Well, not counting the odd kidnapping by crazy surgeons with student collusion." She added that last with a sort of wry smile that said she hadn't yet forgiven for that one. "Most of us have no wish to fight, I think. We're just looking to find a world where we can be normal without hiding what we are."

"Don think dat any of us is ever going t' be normal and who we are at de same time, chere. Bench pressing cars only take normal so far, neh?

Lorna shook her head, “Benching cars is weird, yeah. So is naturally green hair. But it doesn’t mean that we can’t live normal lives. It doesn’t mean we don’t need to go shopping or get an education or buy a house or go on dates.” She drummed her fingers against the side of her mug, pensively. “We’re mutants not sub-humans. We should be able to lead normal lives. First step is minimizing how much we antagonize the outside world. Ergo, no benching cars in the middle of the street.” She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, “Does that make sense?”

"Some. At de same time, seems t' mean dat the only way dat we fit in is not t' be all of ourselves." Remy held his hands up in a placating gesture. "I'm not saying dat we need t' announce to de world, but de flaw in all of dis seems dat we work at making dem accept us as somet'ing as other den we are."

“How so? Just because you can do something weird doesn’t mean that everyone has to know about it as the first thing about you. But there seem to be some people who think that our introductions should go something like ‘I’m Lorna and I can make paper clips out of a steel girder.’ Which is stupid. It’s not hiding what we are, it’s just not making an issue of it.”

"Dat Kurt homme ain't got much choice? Or de Sarah femme." Remy said into his coffee. " De pretty ones got de options, and try t' pretend dat de others have too. Remy lived on de street. He know how much people hate de folk on de street. Makes sense dat dat transfer to de others."

“Christ, it sounds selfish of me, doesn’t it?” Lorna sighed and sat down on the couch again, “Yeah, Kurt and Sarah and Miles and the Doc and god only knows how many others can’t just pretend like they’re not mutants. And yeah, it makes it hard on those of us who can. And it’s unfair to say that they have to live their life behind image inducers just because it might scare the narrow-minded. But...the fact is that mutants scare the narrow-minded. And we don’t have any right to expect them to suffer us gladly.” She sipped her coffee. “I’m fully aware of how messed up that sounds.”

"Some kind of world, neh?" Remy smiled sardonically, and for the first time, Lorna caught the hint of an active intelligence behind those remarkable eyes. "Just like dis place. Say dat everyone comes here t' be safe, and den they tell you dey expecting t' be attacked any minute."

Lorna raised an eyebrow at him, “Surely it’s not the same people telling you both? Most of them are a little more consistent.” She crossed her legs and rested her coffee against her knee. “Though I suppose it’s true to some extent. We are supposed to be safe here and for a lot of us, even with the bi-annual commando incursions, home was even less pleasant. We have a better shot at making it through in a group than we do alone.”

"Or being an easier target." Remy pointed out. "I'm so used t' only looking out for Remy dat de troubles of de others unnerve me a little, neh?" He switched topics, feeling like he was giving away more then he wanted to. "So, what a pretty femme like you do in dis place?"

More than willing to cease this strangely ideological conversation, Lorna tossed her hair over her shoulder and eased back into the couch cushions, still cautious of her burns. “Other than the cooking and the teaching? Ale..hmm, my friends and I like to hit the movies pretty regularly. Alison knows where all the best clubs are, of course.”

"Alison? De pretty blonde wit' de-" Remy stopped from saying his first choice. "kid? Might have t' ask about did clubs. How's being out of de hospital like? Remy never heard why you dere in de first place?"

Lorna nodded, “She’s my roommate, though I’m expecting her to come to her senses and get a proper adult room any day now,” her grin was only slightly wistful. “Being out of the hospital is fabulous so far. Though I’m technically on probation, I think. The doc reserved the right to pull me back if he wanted to. However, since he thought I was going to die six weeks ago, I’m not going to complain. I was, uh, burned really badly just before Christmas. Very unattractive.” She tugged her jacket more firmly around her shoulders.

"Burned? How?" Remy said, putting down his coffee cup. "If dat not too personal for you den, chere."

She hesitated. She hadn’t actually talked about it to anyone. There was no reason to— everyone already knew or if they didn’t, they didn’t care. Still, she knew it was a question she was going to be asked eventually. Might as well get used to it. “There was an accident. With another student. He...his powers weren’t under proper control. He can’t release them on his own and when they get too much, he can’t contain them either.” Her voice was clipped and nearly emotionless, despite her stops and starts, “ I... happened to be nearby when they got too strong. I got caught in the blast.” She stared into her coffee. “He told me to run,” she said, almost too low to hear.

"What 'bout him, chere? He make it out?" Remy said, curious but not too surprised. Everyone had heard a story or an urban legend about some mutant manifesting and blowing half a town to shreds.

"Alex is immune to his own powers," she responded without thinking. She cursed herself for not keeping it anonymous and neutral but the harm was done. "I think he was just exhausted. I don't really know. I wasn't really conscious at the time."

"Dat a hard t'ing, chere. He still 'round, or did dey pitch him out de door de second it happen?" Remy asked.

"No!" she said vehemently. She took a deep breath and tried to reach for the detachment she'd had before, "He's...gone. But they didn't make him leave. It wasn't the staff's fault."

"He tried t' call? Even know where he lives?" Remy probed, not really wanting to extend her pain, but unable to stop himself. "Since he left de mansion?"

Lorna shook her head, her eyes clouded and distant, "I don't know. I haven't asked... I can't. They're looking for him, I'm sure. They've got to be. They'd never just let him vanish."

"You trust dem a lot, chere." Remy noted, his tone leaving it open if it was a good or bad thing. "Seems like dey could find anyone dat dey really want t' find. Maybe he ask dem not to find him? Lot of guilt after blowing up a femme."

“He couldn’t help it,” she defended automatically. Not that he would feel less guilty for that. Especially since I told him to get lost. Her lips twisted in a bitter frown, God, Alex, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. She gripped her coffee mug tightly in both hands, afraid she was shaking. “They can’t just let him go. Scott wouldn’t do that,” she continued, trying to hold the thread of conversation.

"You'd know better den I, chere. I was just asking." Remy said, a placating gesture. "Don know too many round here, 'specially not de staff. Remy don' know how it work."

"Scott can't just let Alex go. He can't do that to him. Alex just got him back," Lorna insisted. She was much too agitated to realize that she was making very little sense to Remy who, of course, knew nothing of the brothers' relationship or history.

"Dis Alex and Scott got some history den? Somet'ing dat keeps dem together?" Remy probed.

Lorna blinked at Remy, momentarily lost. "Scott is Alex's brother," she said finally, automatically defining the relationship in terms of Alex. "Alex just came here last summer. They hadn't seen each other in years."

"Dey long lost mutants? Sound like a bad soap opera plot." Remy said, trying to lighten the mood slightly. "'spect day de Scott would keep looking for him, oui?

Lorna managed something like a smile, albeit a bitter one. "Oh, this place is just a never-ending soap opera, what with the long lost siblings and the love quadrangles from hell. All we need is a split evil personality and we're set to win a daytime Emmy."

"Love quadrangles? Dat more of Remy's t'ing!" He grinned dazzlingly, setting off the ladykiller features. "Just point Remy at de femmes dat need love."

“Everyone but Paige,” she replied instantly, “She’s already got her hands full. Hmm, and Kitty is utterly devoted to Jamie and he to her. They’re of the uber-cute.”

"Kitty? De pretty brunette? Remy talk to her in de library. Don t'ink she really Remy's type." He grinned.

“Really? And here I was thinking every pretty girl was your type.” Lorna responded lightly. She wasn’t quite calm yet but she was doing well at hiding it.

"Non. Remy have at least some requirements, chere." He laughed. "Quite de hair. Seen purple, blue, now de green. Dey all say it natural too..."

“As much as I wish it wasn’t,” she twisted a strand around her finger, “since it would have saved me a fortune in hair dye, it’s definitely natural. Green eyes, green hair. Green nails and lips, too, if I’m stupid enough to over-exert my powers.” She smirked at him, “You wouldn’t doubt a lady’s word?”

"Course I would." Remy smile was almost a leer. "Nothin' better den finding out if de femme is telling de truth or not."

She laughed, “That’s a novel way to justify it. How is that strategy working out for you?”

"You be surprised how many dye jobs Remy find." He smiled and got up from the couch. "T'anks for de coffee. Nice t' find someone dat know who t' make it properly."

She stood as well and reached out to take his mug from him. “Anytime. Coffee is sacred around here; we’ll always have a pot on if you’re in need. You’re welcome to drop by.”

"Merci. Better be careful what you say, chere." He grinned wickedly on his way out the door. "Pretty femme make dat offer, Remy just might take you up on dat. Au Revoir." And he was gone.

"I don't doubt it," Lorna muttered to the empty room, "He's certainly cocky enough to try it." She smiled for a moment, holding onto the amusement he'd brought her and ignoring, as much as she was able, the wounds he'd inadvertently been prodding. She took the mugs to the sink to rinse them out then wandered into her room for a nap.