Forge and Lil

[x-diamondlil.livejournal.com]

Midmorning, Lil heads to the garage intending to borrow Logan's bike again and runs into Forge instead.


A woman of her word, Lil had every intention of of keeping up with her end of the deal she'd struck with Logan: use of the bike if she kept it properly maintained. Which, after rolling out of bed, showering, throwing on a tank top, faded jeans and leather jacket, was exactly what she'd planned on doing. An early start would hopefully mean less time waiting for the bike to get serviced which in turn gave Lil more time to ride it before her former mentor demanded it back. What she wasn't expecting, however, was to find the genius-in-residence poking around the garage.

"Heya," the blonde greeted with a slight lift of her chin and small smile.

"Ms. Jeffries!" Forge called cheerfully, looking up from under the raised hood of his sports car. A few quick turns of a socket wrench removed a complicated-looking turbocharger assembly from the engine, which was in turn placed on a rolling bench next to an array of nigh-unrecognizable devices. "What brings our more attractive northern expatriate down to the grease pit today?"

She winced at the name and tried to cover it by nodding to Logan's motorcycle. "He mentioned needing oil so I figured I'd take it out and see if there was anything else that needed tending because of his neglect. And it's Lil. Please." Of all the ways to be addressed 'Ms. Jeffries' was probably her least favorite.

Forge whistled almost reverently. "Yeah, even I don't fiddle with Logan's bike. He and Scott both are pretty possessive about their toys. It's a good machine, even if he doesn't tune it for maximum efficiency. But then again..." Narrowing his eyes, Forge tried to clear his mind and focus on the motorcycle and resist the urge to lift an arm and point at it. Unlike some, he insisted to himself, I do *not* have a gesture crutch...

As if a spotlight had been shone on it, the motorcycle lit up in his mind's eye. Pistons and chains and gears and valves and chambers all spoke to him in a matter of seconds. Blinking again, he shook his head briefly. "Then again," he continued, "the oil reservoir is low and there's probably sludge in there given the way the valves are complaining. If you run it at full throttle I can guarantee it'll be belching black carbon out the exhaust within five miles. Drive chain and brakes look to be in good condition, though. Lil," he added as an afterthought, turning the word over in his mind. "Big woman, small name. Study in contradictions, that."

The polite smile she'd been wearing faded completely when he used his powers to survey the bike. Damn men with mechanical minds. Lil shifted uncomfortably, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her jacket before giving a small nod. "I'll make sure not to push her too hard 'til I get her cleaned up," the Canadian promised, eyes on her boots as she fought back the urge to flee. "Yeah, one big contradiction, that's me. Nothing 'lil' to call my own 'cept maybe my self-control sometimes."

"So we hear," Forge replied with a smug smirk. He spun the socket wrench on his palm, then reached back into the engine, biting back a slight curse at an errant squirt of grease from a worn valve. "It's not escaped mention that a certain Mister Bishop's been spending quite a bit of time here, after all."

"Keeping up with the rumormill?" she asked, raising a brow at him. "Didn't think you'd get your head outta a lab long enough for that."

"Contrary to popular belief," Forge said without removing his head from the inner workings of the automobile, "I don't spend all my time in my lab. I'm almost finished with my Business degree, I have my regular X-Men duties, Kyle and I shoot hoops two or three times a week, and I have a reasonably healthy relationship with a wonderful girlfriend."

He stood up, wiping grease off his hands with a nearby rag. "Don't throw me in the same category as your ex-husband," he intoned sharply. "From what I hear, Madison's an obsessive who can't get his priorities straight. Comparatively, I'm a paragon of well-adjustedness."

"Madison is an ass," Lil nearly growled as her eyes flashed dangerously. She didn't bother to correct the fact the he wasn't her ex. Yet. "Playing with his little machines like some technological junkie. Obsessive doesn't even begin to cover it so forgive me if I'm a little biased against mad scientists for the time being. You pointing out all your little social accomplishments means shit to me." Inside her jacket, her fists were balled tight to keep herself from throwing something. Namely Logan's bike. At him.

"It should," Forge insisted, finally walking out from around the front of the car to stand by the back tire of Logan's bike, looking up at Lil. "I kind of figured out the whole bias thing already, and believe me, I understand it. But here's the catch, 'Bubba'. If you're training with the X-Men, you're going to see a lot of me. And I'm not really comfortable with the idea of you taking your frustrations out on me when an alimony check bounces or whatever."

He rubbed his forehead in frustration, leaving a smear of grease as he looked away from the tall Canadienne. "I'm not saying that you're liable to, you know. God knows since Cain left we need another dependable brick on the team. But I don't want to have to be watching my back because you've got issues that're nothing to do with me, you get me?"

"Why am I supposed to care that you can function in a relationship with your princess when the technomorph I married can't? To give me fucking hope?" Staring down at him, Lil continued to fume even as her belly clenched against the very idea. "That train's long gone and I ain't gonna put you through a wall because of him. Other reasons, yeah, but not because of Madison and especially not when we're training." She had that much control over herself at least.

Forge just blinked. "Be... because I'm awesome," he said in possibly-genuine astonishment. "No, seriously, dude. Have you not heard of me? I accomplish the impossible, achieve the undoable, discover the unknowable - I'm kind of a big deal. But one thing I don't deal in is hope. Things are what they are."

With a shrug, he spun the wrench in his hand like a gunslinger and holstered it in his belt before stepping up on a toolbox to try and get enough height to look Lil mostly in the eyes. "I'm an okay guy, really," he said with honest sincerity. "And you seem like a pretty cool person if you can take a ribbing from both Logan and Garrison. I think we kind of got off on the wrong foot, maybe."

After a second's pause, he stuck a hand out towards Lil. "Hi, I'm Forge. Need some help on that bike?"

It was Lil's turn to blink in surprise. Shoulders drawn back, she'd been ready to pounce like a cat for the kill when he extanded a hand. She looked from it to his face blankly for a few long seconds before slowly taking it with her own. "Lil. If you think you can handle it and me at the same time, sure. But only fair I warn you aheada time, I've got a thing for little men with big brains."

Forge went bright red at the last, hopping down to start arranging an oil change kit for the bike. "Juggling two men already and you have a thing for geniuses? My god, you're like Canada's own Paige Guthrie."