Love Potion Number 9

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Here it is, in all of its glory. Pretty much spans the entire day Monday, from the morning to early evening with Doug, Manuel, and Amanda.


Rahne peeked through one of the shelves in the library and quickly returned her gaze to her book. She'd found the medical one she was looking for fifteen minutes ago, though this one looked useful too, if not exactly for the same things. She was a little curious about Moroccan history.

She wasn't concentrating on it properly, though. She kept carrying it around the shelves nearwhere Doug was sitting. Moping, rather. She'd like to go talk to him.... She wasn't sure *why* she wanted to go talk to him all of a sudden. He looked quite nice; she'd thought that plenty of times before. But he was interested in *other* girls, and it was usually Ev she found herself admiring. Ev was smart, and good at standing up to people politely, and....

Of course, Doug was helping with Jamie's project and that involved the same kind of thing, didn't it? And anyway, they were friends, or close enough, and he looked upset. She ought to be nice and go say something.

"Morning, Dougie," she said quietly as she came up to the table and sat down. "Something the matter?"

Doug raised his head and smiled softly. "Oh. Hi, Rahne," he replied. He shrugged and traced a finger across the whorls of the table in front of him. "Nothing all that serious. Just the usual stuff. Me being silly, I guess. I was just sitting here thinking about things. It's nice in here. Peaceful, you know?"

"Does that mean I should quit interrupting ye and get back to work?" she asked with a faint smile. She really hoped he didn't say yes, though....

Doug shook his head. "Oh, that's okay. I mean, I wouldn't want to keep you from work, but it's nice to have someone to sit and talk to. Certainly better than rehashing things in my head for the hundredth time."

"Well, what is it ye want to talk about, then?"

Doug shrugged, put on the spot. "Um, I don't know. What are you working on?" He took a look at the books Rahne had set on the table.

"Well, this one's for a Field Medicine essay, and the other's just one I picked up for... well, something Haroun said before he left made me wonder about Morocco." Rahne shrugged and frowned at the stack. "I'd maybe do well to find something that might help with Creative Writing. I'm never sure what Ms. Braddock's going to say next lately...."

Doug nodded, reminded of Mr. Summers' concerns about Ms. Braddock's mental state. But that was hardly something he should be discussing with anyone else. As a matter of fact, he didn't think he could bring it up if he tried. He smiled. This was more words he'd heard out of the quiet Scot combined, now that he thought about it. She really was quite nice. "So what have you been doing other than classwork? I haven't really seen you around much."

"Helping with the wee ones, helping Dr. Bartlet and Dr. McCoy when I can. That sort of thing."

Doug nodded. "I know Artie and Miles think you're very nice. And I'm sure the doctors appreciate having you there to help, especially after all the injuries suffered in that attack. You're a good person to be so helpful."

Rahne gave him a slightly odd look. "'Tis only right, if I can."

Doug nodded. "Oh, I definitely agree. I was just wishing everyone was as generous with their time and talents as you are. And as understanding. Would certainly help eliminate some of these giant blowups we've been having with everyone sniping at everyone else."

"Some of the people blowing up *are* helping the rest of the time. Ms. Blaire *can* be very nice, but for all she says about talking, some of her posts just don't....." Rahne sighed. "I was a little afraid to answer her."

Doug smiled and patted Rahne's hand briefly. "So was I. And it was the same with some other people I'm normally fine talking with. Marie, Angelo, Paige...everyone seems on edge right now."

She thought about grabbing his hand and shook her head slightly at herself. But the touch felt nice. "'Tis very odd. Ms. Blaire and Ms. Braddock scare me more often than Mr. Marko, and he's the one Marie thinks is making people feel unsafe." Rahne frowned. "I suppose I'm sure I donnae do the things he gets upset over, is one thing." She shrugged and tried to joke, "I thought Marie and Angelo and Paige were always on edge about something."

Doug nodded. "Well, it depends. Marie...she's still trying to find her place, I think. She's not really a student anymore, and not really a full teacher and X-Man, so it's hard for her. Angelo and Paige...Angelo is convinced Paige'd be happier if he wasn't complicating things. Paige can't decide between Angelo and Jono, and feels guilty about it."

"Well, maybe she should." Rahne frowned again. "I suppose she's not made either of them any promises of that sort, which is good, but she canna keep both like this."

Doug nodded. "She's just afraid of hurting whichever one she doesn't choose. And also, I think she loves them both pretty equally. Besides, feelings are complicated. You can't just wave your hand and make them go away." Doug got a slightly self-mocking look on his face. ~And don't I know it,~ he thought to himself.

"That doesna mean you have to encourage them or act on all of them."

Doug shrugged. "That's true, but everyone's different. Some people are more comfortable with certain things than others. Some people see nothing wrong with encouraging others." ~Like Amanda,~ came the slightly uncharitable thought. Doug was still a little upset with Amanda about how she had teased him on the dance floor when they had gone to the club over the weekend.

"And *that* doesna mean there's not," Rahne said a bit waspishly.

"Oh, I'm definitely of your opinion, Rahne," Doug hurried to reassure her. "Just that...everyone has their own opinions. And regardless of your own, you have to try and understand their point of view. Whether you agree with it or not."

That was nice to know, that he wasn't one of the ones.... "I ken there are people who believe different things are right and wrong. I've even found out one of my roommates thinks doing things *because* they're wrong is a good idea. I'm no sure I want to understand that."

Doug nodded. "I know what you mean. I think that was half the problem with this big argument about security. Everyone was so convinced that they were right, and they didn't stop to listen what other people were saying, and they didn't try to understand each other and come to some sort of middle ground. Instead, everyone got snippy, and went away for the weekend, and so forth."

Rahne sighed. "I tried to listen and understand on that, but I donnae think that did any good."

Doug shrugged. "Yeah, it's hard. But everyone got so angry with everyone else. And it just seems like such a waste. I mean, it's hard to live with people that you're so angry with. I mean, take Marie. She got so angry she had to go away for the weekend." Doug looked slightly wistful at the mention of Marie.

"I wasna sure if 'twas her or Logan who started that."

"From what I understand, it was her, and Logan decided to go along." Doug looked vaguely uncomfortable at the reminder of Marie's relationship with Logan.

"Oh."

Doug looked at Rahne. "Oh?"

Rahne shrugged a bit. "Well, I did say I couldna tell."

Doug nodded. "Ah."

"Did she tell ye that, or was it just from watching? I ken you're more observant...."

"From watching. I mean, she posted first to the journal system about going, and then Logan a bit later. That suggests to me that it was her idea." He shrugged uncomfortably.

"Ah... well, I suppose that's true."

Doug sighed. "It's just a guess."

"But you guess right about what people mean, most of the time."

Doug nodded. "Well, it depends on the situation. I'm not usually very good at understanding what people mean when it relates to how they feel about me."

"Maybe ye donnae pay as much attention to what they're really saying then." Rahne frowned and then said quite suddenly, "I donnae ken why ye waste so much time over her."

Doug blinked, confused. "Her? Who?"

"Marie."

Doug cocked his head sideways. "Huh?"

Rahne flushed hot. "Well, 'tis true...."

Doug shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, sometimes I think things would be easier if I could just get over her, but that's not the way it works. You can't just make your feelings go away with the snap of a finger." Doug chuckled. "Well, unless you're Manuel."

"Manuel cannae do that to his own. That doesna mean ye have to act on them or dwell on them," Rahne said firmly, "and it certainly shouldna stop ye from trying to replace them with better ones."

Doug nodded. "I'm trying, Rahne. I am. I've been working on accepting that I'll only ever be friends with her, that she's chosen to be with Logan. But like I said, it's hard." Doug shrugged, a bit embarassed at being put on the spot like that.

"Well, ye willna get anywhere for sure if ye go on thinking 'tis something ye canna change. And if Mr. Logan's the sort *she* wants I'd think that'd show she's not the sort *you* do."

Doug shook his head. "Loving someone doesn't work like that. Logic doesn't really enter into it. But you're right about thinking it's something I can't change. I need to work on that."

"Ye can love her. But ye wouldna have thought of loving her *that* way if she'd already been together with somebody when ye met her, aye?" Rahne had leaned forward, closer to him, as she spoke; she blushed again then and stood up, abruptly and a little stiffly. "And I think I'll go find that other book now. I should be getting to the reading before long." She walked away before Doug could do more than open his mouth.

Doug, for his part, slumped back in his chair, pondering the unusual assertiveness Rahne had displayed. "That was odd..." he muttered to himself before going back to thinking and reading.

--------------------------

Marie-Ange had several quiet spots in the mansion, but her favorite was the sunroom. The large picture windows were perfect for letting in the right light to sketch by, and the room was almost always quiet, if not entirely deserted. At this particular moment, she was curled onto one of the window seats, idly doodling on the sketchpad resting on her knees.

Doug enjoyed the quiet of the sunroom as well, and with the pensive mood he was in, soaking up a sunbeam sounded lovely. He padded into the room, only to discover someone already in it. "Oh, hi, Angie," he said softly. "What're you up to?"

Marie-Ange greeted Doug with a bright smile. "Just sketching. I was feeling creative today." She turned her sketchpad towards Doug to reveal several cartoony sketches of the younger students.

Doug grinned and tapped a large-eyed rendition of Illyana. "Been stealing from my anime collection, Angie?" He chuckled. "They're very good, though."

The praise set Marie-Ange's smile brighter. "Merci. No anime though. I have a difficult time with the translations on the screen, although if you have any in French, I would be happy to watch with you."

Doug nodded. "Actually, ever since I discovered my mutation, I've been picking up anime in the original Japanese. No dubbing or subbing required. It's great. Been kinda giving my old collection to other people as I get the originals. But I'm sure I could probably find some anime translated to French for you, if you really wanted."

"Doesn't that make it hard to watch with friends?" Marie-Ange tilted her head questioningly. "That would be good, thank you." She stretched out a leg and tapped the other side of the window seat with her heel. "Will you sit? Or, were you just wandering?"

Doug nodded. "Oh, it does, but it's so much better to watch in the original format. English translations generally leave a lot to be desired. But I'm keeping a few classics for all the 'silly gai-jin'." He parodied Shiro's haughty tones. "And sure, I'll sit. I was sort of wandering, but was going to come in here. I enjoy the peace and quiet. It's good for thinking."

Marie-Ange nodded. "It is a good room for being quiet, or private. I draw here a lot, and sit at night, when I cannot sleep." She pulled her leg back underneath her to make room for Doug to sit.

Doug sat down at the other end of the window seat, a respectful distance between them. He looked at Marie-Ange, slightly concerned. "How have you been sleeping lately? Been having the dreams?"

"Some. They passed for a while, but returned. Dr. MacTaggart says that I might have suppressed them when I tried to force the precognition with the cards." She stumbles over the word precognition, more disliking the word itself rather than not knowing it. "I think, next semester, I may build time into my day for a nap."

Doug nodded. "Whatever helps. Because sleep deprivation is not a happy thing. I speak from experience," he noted wryly.

Marie-Ange made a small noise, almost a laugh. "Doug? I think I know already." She smiled impishly at him, and rearranged her legs so that she was sitting up, rather than leaning against the window.. "I am used to not sleeping. It has some benefits, although it seems to make me paranoid."

Doug chuckled. "See, this is why sleep deprivation is bad. Paranoid Angie isn't much fun. With me, up to a certain point being sleep deprived makes everything really funny. Like out of proportion to how funny it really is. Past that point, I just get really cranky and emotional. Like when I was staying up outside the medlab."

"No, I suppose I am not fun when I have not slept." Marie-Ange smiled, oddly, meeting Doug's eyes. "Although, now I must ask, when am I fun?

Doug cocked his head, slightly confused. "Pretty much the rest of the time."

Marie-Ange shfted her weight, and learned closer to Doug "Then, another question comes to my mind. " She continued in a low quiet voice, having switched to French. "Why do you chase Marie, and not someone fun?"

Doug blinked. "Huh?" In his mind, he was having a deja vu moment, as Rahne had asked him essentially the same thing, and received the same confused monosyllabic answer, for that matter.

Marie-Ange smiled gently, continuing still in French, more out of ease of use than privacy. "You keep chasing Marie, I do not understand why you do not choose someone else, who is not trying to be a mutant superhero, who is a student, not teaching students." She slid forward, closing the distance between her and Doug. "It is frustrating, to watch you beat yourself up over someone who will not appriciate you."

Doug responded in French, hesitant from being put on the spot about his crush on Marie. "It's...frustrating for me, too, Angie. And it's not that she doesn't appreciate me...just that she doesn't think of me like I think of her. And besides. Feelings aren't always logical like that, and it's not like you can just snap your fingers and change them." He paused. "Unless you're Manuel, and even that's temporary."

Marie-Ange frowned at the mention of Manuel, something obviously bothering her about the subject of Manuel and attraction being anywhere near each other. She shook her head, obviously conflicted. "No, I suppose they aren't logical."

Doug nodded. "They're just, y'know, there," he added quietly, looking slightly wistful and sad.

"Yes, and there's not much to do about them." Marie-Ange scooted close to Doug, laying her head on his shoulder affectionately. "I'm sorry she hurt you."

Doug blinked confusedly and hesitantly put an arm around Marie-Ange. "I'm sorry too. But I don't really blame her. I mean, she can't change the way she feels any more than I can. It's not really anyone's fault."

Marie-Ange slipped her hand behind Doug, and around his waist. "No, but it does not mean you should pine after her forever, no?"

Doug shrugged his shoulders and sighed. "I don't intend to. It's just that getting over her isn't that easy either. I can't just snap my fingers and say 'poof! Don't love her anymore!' It takes time."

"How much time?" Marie-Ange ran her thumb along Doug's side. "How long does it take for you to see that there are more girls than just her?" She said in a low voice, almost a whisper, before placing her her free hand on Doug's cheek and turning his face towards hers.

Doug's eyes widened as he belatedly realized how close Marie-Ange had gotten to him. "Uh, Angie, what are you..."

Marie-Ange met Doug's eyes, and whispered quietly. "Reminding you that she's not the only girl in the world." She turned her head, and pressed her lips to his, taking the hand from around his waist, and placing it on Doug's thigh.

Doug's eyes nearly bugged out, especially at the hand on his thigh. Pulling back, he stammered "B-but, Angie, I d-didn't think you..."

Marie-Ange smiled gently, but did not remove her hand. "I had some reason to think about it, and changed my mind. You are too sweet, too good to let go just like that."

Doug blushed hotly and shook his head. "I'm not...I mean, I don't think I'm...what made you change your mind?"

Marie-Ange shrugged just slightly, and moved the hand on Doug's cheek to play with the hair on the back of his neck. "I am not sure. It just did not seem right to let you go."

Doug closed his eyes and made a noise that sounded almost like a purr at the feeling of Marie-Ange's playing with his hair. ~How did she guess what that does to me?~ He tried very hard to concentrate on the vague answer. "But why?"

"You ask too many questions, Doug. You said that feelings are not logical, yes?" Marie-Ange ran her thumb along Doug's upper thigh. "Stop thinking so much, silly."

Doug yelped and clamped his hand down on the hand that was moving slowly up his thigh. "Angie, I don't...I mean, you...I mean, what are you doing?"

Marie-Ange rolled her eyes at the question, suddenly all business. "Trying to get you to kiss back." She shook her head, and glanced down away from Doug's eyes. "What's wrong?"

Doug's eyes narrowed. "You." He stopped, realizing how that sounded, and backpedaled. "I mean, it just feels like there's something off about your body language. You're...different, somehow."

Marie-Ange shrugged. "I had some learning expierences. It changed how I look at things. At.. you." She smiled softly, and tried to slowly worm her hand out from under his.

Doug gulped at the slightly predatory feel to Marie-Ange's body language. Squirming his way out of the window seat, he stood up. "I don't think I should...I mean, I'm flattered, Angie, but I don't think I'm ready for...what I think you're talking about."

Marie-Ange sighed, pouting. "But.. " She leaned back into the window. "We can talk later, about this?"

Doug breathed an almost audible sigh of relief. "That would be fine, Angie. Talking is...good." He waved abortively. "I'll...see you later, Angie." Turning, he went out of the room just short of a run.

--------------------------

Doug rolled his neck and refocused on the screen of the plasma TV. If he could just...ah, there. On the screen James Bond ducked out from cover and smoothly shot three enemies. ~Now, is it the red wire or the blue wire?~ He stuck his tongue out of the side of his mouth in concentration.

Lorna glanced into the gameroom curiously, attracted by the sounds of play gunfire and saw Doug frown as his focus narrowed to the game on the screen and the controller in his hands. A slow smile crossed her lips and she leaned against the doorframe for a moment to watch him. She had never taken the time to really appreciate Doug before. He'd arrived after Alex and Alex had been all her world. More the fool she. Obviously in her infatuation with the reckless surfer she had overlooked a true gem of a human being. Unforgivable but certainly not irreparable. She pushed off the doorframe and prowled lazily up behind Doug. Leaning down she draped her arms around his shoulder and spoke in a low voice into his ear, "What are you playing?"

Doug jerked and an explosion filled the screen. Tossing the controller at the game system in disgust, he turned to Lorna. "Um...uh...hi, Lorna. I was playing the new James Bond game until _someone_ ruined my concentration." There wasn't any real accusation in Doug's voice, although he was a little frustrated at ruining a good session of gameplay. "What're you up to?"

"Nothing much." She rounded the couch and sat next to him, "Sorry about your game." She stretched lazily, the soft cashmere sweater she wore tightening in interesting places. "I was just thinking that we've never really had a chance to talk."

Doug nodded. "That's true. I'm glad you're out of the medlab, finally. Everyone was really worried about you. I know Doctor McCoy and Doctor Bartlet are probably glad to not have to eat my cooking anymore."

She laughed softly, "I'm sure you did a wonderful job. You are so thoroughly conscientious. Don't you ever get tired of taking care of everyone else?" She'd turned so she was facing him, her drawn up right leg brushing his left.

Doug blushed slightly at the contact. "Ah...not really. It's kind of its own reward, for the most part. I worry about the people I care about. Like when Jamie was having nightmares about the hurricane. He needed help, and between all of us, we made sure he got it."

She smiled and shook her head, "That's such a wonderful self-effacing thing to say. Not everyone can help other people like that or even care enough to try." She laid a hand on his knee, leaning in to indicate her sincerity.

Doug blushed more deeply at the contact with his knee. "Your roommate is a lot like that," he replied. "Alison was so worried the longer you had to stay in the medlab. She's so much happier since you've gotten out." He smiled gently.

Her face darkened momentarily, "Alison is meddlesome. She doesn't know when to quit," she replied, "You're much more discriminating." Would he never stop talking about other people instead of himself?

"I think Jamie would be inclined to disagree. He was pretty pissed at me when I called him on the nightmares he was having." Doug shrugged. "Sometimes you have to push just a bit when it's for the person's own good. Alison's just got your best interests at heart." He patted the hand on his knee comfortingly.

This was going nowhere. "Perhaps," she agreed. She turned her hand and laced her fingers with his. "It was a wonderfully caring thing to do."

Doug looked extremely confused at the intimate gesture. "Uh, Lorna? What're you...?" He cocked his head to the side.

She tilted her head to mimic his gesture then laughed, "You underestimate yourself, Doug. You're a wonderful man." She slid closer to him, "I'm just sorry we've taken so long to really talk."

Doug tried to relax, which was difficult with Lorna so close into his personal space. "So, um...what was that whole thing with Bobby and the shut doors the other day?"

Lorna laughed, "That was so dreadful. He was trying to get Ali and instead changed my shower water to slushy water. I was ready to kill him." She shook her head, "Poor me, all wet and shivering with only a towel to protect me."

Doug blushed at the mental image. "So I take it you trapped Bobby in the hallways? Did he get what was coming to him?"

"I'm working on it," she grinned mischieviously, "I have ideas. I'm very persistent about getting what I want."

"I'm...ah, beginning to get that impression, yes. One crosses the mistress of magnetism at his own risk?" He winked.

"Oh, absolutely." She stretched again then pulled her sweater off and tossed it aside. Underneath was a thin black tank top trimmed with pale blue lace. "It's rather warm in here, don't you think?" she asked sweetly, lifting her hair off her neck.

Doug's blush deepened, and he pulled at the collar of his shirt. "I'm...ah...definitely feeling a bit warm," he stammered.

"Well that's because you're all bundled up," Lorna smirked. She leaned over and slid her hands under the edge of his sweater, "Come on, off"

Doug jumped as if stung. A beautiful woman being so close to him was a very new experience, even if it had already happened once today with Marie-Ange. As the sweater was dragged over his head, Doug's blush deepened, working its way down his neck.

Tossing his sweater to join hers, Lorna smoothed his t-shirt over his shoulder with a light brush of her palms. "Isn't that better?"

Doug shivered at Lorna's touch. "Uh, Lorna, don't get me wrong, I'm flattered, but...why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?" she asked, leaving her hands resting lightly on his arms. Her smile was teasing.

"Being so...nice to me. I mean, like you said, we never really got to talk much." Doug's blush had pretty much turned his face a permanent shade of pink by now.

"And I'm seeing that I was wrong not to have fixed that before. You wouldn't hold that against a girl, would you?" She pouted at him.

"N-no," Doug stammered. "It just seems a little sudden, is all."

She shrugged, "No time like the present, Doug. It's better to take life as it comes than to worry about it." She slid her hand down his arm, "Don't you think?"

Doug whimpered slightly. "I-I would tend to agree, I guess. I just...I guess I don't see myself as the sort to be looked at that way." He shrugged. "Haven't had much luck in that regard. I'm just the good friend sort, from my experiences with girls."

"Then they have all been fools." Lorna's hand drifted up to caress his cheek, "or blind."

Doug closed his eyes and leaned into the caress, hungry for touch. "If you say so, Lorna. But...what made you see me all of a sudden?"

Something flickered in her eyes, "I've recently had an eye-opening experience. Made me see that I have been too trapped by the past and it was making me unhappy." Her other hand came to rest on his waist and she leaned in so her lips brushed his ear, "We all deserve to be happy."

Doug jumped a bit at the contact between Lorna's lips and his ear. "Yes, yes we do," he managed to get out. Still, he made no move to reciprocate Lorna's attentions, feeling entirely too self-conscious.

"Wouldn't you also agree," she murmured, "that since no one is going to give us happiness, we should take the opportunity for it when it presents itself?" The hand that had been caressing his face trailed lazily down his chest, nails scraping lightly against the thin cotton shirt.

With that, Doug went pretty completely nonverbal. "I don't know...I mean, I...you...I don't...I'm not sure I..." He breathed raggedly.

Her fingers stroked soothing patterns over his skin. "The appropriate response," she smiled, "is yes." Inclining her head ever so slightly, she kissed him softly.

Doug's eyes fluttered shut as he enjoyed his second kiss of the day, and not counting his mother, pretty much his second kiss ever. When Lorna finally pulled back, Doug's lips moved without any words coming out.

Lorna waited until his eyes had opened again and focused on her, "So once again, shouldn't we take advantage of the moments that are given to us?"

Doug licked lips that were suddenly very dry. "Uh...what'd you have in mind exactly, Lorna?" he asked hesitantly.

She laughed and raised an eyebrow, "What do you think?"

Doug shrugged nervously. "I...honestly have no idea. I don't...have anything in the way of experience, and I'm not sure how comfortable I am with..."

"What are you comfortable with?" she tilted her head, waiting patiently.

"I'm...not sure," he replied honestly. "Probably not very much."

She leaned in and kissed him again, drawing it out to test his reaction, "How about that?"

Doug's eyes fluttered closed again. "That...that I think I can handle."

She took his hands and placed them on her waist then mirrored the placement with her own hands, "This okay?"

"I think so." Doug's fingers curled against the hem of Lorna's tank top. He stared into her eyes hesitantly.

"Think you can follow along?" she worked her fingers under the edge of his shirt, waiting to see if he mirrored her movements.

Doug's fingers shivered against the band of skin between Lorna's tank top and pants. "I...I don't know," he replied. "I'm...scared."

"Then let's try it like this. When you stop, I'll stop." She watched him closely, remembering being in his place. Her boyfriend at the time had been less than patient. She swore she'd do better.

Doug's hands clenched nervously. "I'm scared that I'm either going to wake up, or any second I'm going to find out that this is a spectacularly ill-conceived prank by Jamie. Why...why are you being so patient with me?"

"Good things are worth taking the time to do right," her fingers stroked the soft skin at his waist, soothing rather than insisting. "This is quite real."

Doug shifted in an attempt to accomodate his growing arousal, trying to do so unobrusively. Slowly, his fingers mirrored Lorna's stroking, sliding across the smooth skin at her waist.

Moving slowly, she leaned in and kissed him, her hands eased slowly up his back, palms just lightly skimming his skin.

Doug's palms flattened as they moved up under Lorna's tank top, feeling the warmth and smoothness of her skin. He kissed back hesitantly, mouth still closed.

She coaxed him into a deeper kiss with a sigh. His shirt bunched up around her wrists but she made no move to remove it. Yet.

As Doug's hands moved slowly upward, he felt the strap of her bra. Watching her face, he tentatively stroked his thumbs along where the bra came across her flanks.

She saw the question in his eyes and nodded. "Your lead," she reminded him.

Doug very slowly pushed Lorna's shirt to bunch around her shoulders, revealing her bra and some of the upper swell of her breasts. His eyes were naturally drawn to them, and he placed his hands on her stomach just below the bottom of her bra, fingers flexing slightly.

Lorna ceased mimicking his actions and instead pulled away long enough to draw her tank top off over her head. Her eyes were intent on his face, her breathing slow and even.

Doug's breathing, on the other hand, was fairly ragged. His eyes stayed on Lorna's as a bead of sweat dripped down his temple.

She held his gaze and took his wrists, feeling his pulse beat wildly under her fingers. "You okay?"

"I...don't think so," Doug replied softly. "I mean, you're beautiful, and part of me wants to..." he trailed off and his hands made a sort of abortive move for Lorna's breasts. Jerking them back, he continued. "...but I don't think I'm ready." He turned his head to the side. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Lorna flinched slightly when he pulled away from her and belatedly remembered the scars that covered her right shoulder. Crossing her arms over her chest, she shrank back. "You don't want me?" she asked, hurt by his rejection.

Doug reached out and placed a hand reassuringly on Lorna's right shoulder. "Lorna...it's not that. Just that...we've gotten about as far as I'm comfortable with. I'm sorry...I'm sorry I couldn't be...better for you."

She jerked away, even the light pressure on her scars too much for her, "Don't. Just don't touch me." She scrambled off the sofa and grabbed her sweater. "I don't need pity."

Doug turned Lorna to face him, a tear in his eye. "Please, Lorna. Please believe me. This has nothing to do with you. You've been so patient, and understanding...I'm just not ready to do any more _right now_. I'm not saying never, just not _right now_. Okay?" He brushed her cheek tentatively.

Lorna wanted to step forward into his arms, even swayed in that direction, then caught herself. "I don't need the 'it's not you, it's me' speech. I've heard it. Just...forget it." She backed away, ready to leave but couldn't help stopping, staring at him with longing in her green eyes. "I...I'll wait," she whispered. Then tugging her sweater on, she fled the gameroom.

Doug put his face in his palm and sighed. "_That_ could have gone better," he murmured. Fetching Lorna's tank top from the couch where she had forgotten it, Doug trudged sadly from the game room himself.

--------------------------

"Mmmm. Snacktime," Doug muttered to himself. It had been kind of an odd day so far, but there wasn't much that a high-quality snack run couldn't fix. Going through his secret stash, Doug grinned and pulled out a box of Girl Scout cookies.

The refrigerator door closed, and Bobby's face lit up. "Doug!" He stood there, soda in hand, just staring for a bit, the same, almost...tender smile on his face. "Hey," he finally added, almost shyly.

"Bobster!" Doug exclaimed. A mock frown on his face, he said, "You better not have been spying on my secret snack stash."

Bobby laughed and shook his head. "Of course not!" He took a step toward Doug and then stopped dead. "Oh, how rude of me! D'you want a drink?" He looked slightly aghast at his own lack of manners, turning to pull another bottle of soda from the fridge without waiting for Doug's reply.

"Mmm. Sounds lovely. And for being such a gentleman, I'll share a couple of my Thin Mints." Doug pulled up a stool and carefully opened the box.

Bobby grinned and brought the pair of sodas to the counter, setting one in front of Doug and leaning across the counter, his chin propped in his hand. "Aren't you sweet?" he sighed rather dreamily, gazing at Doug again.

Doug, for his part, was a little oblivious. "I try, man," he replied. "So, what've you been up to? Good to have John and Angelo and Lorna all out of the medlab, isn't it?"

"Mmm," Bobby replied noncommitally. He'd never noticed how gorgeous Doug's eyes were before...and his nose was..."You have a cute nose," he said aloud, reaching out to tap his fingertip against it with a silly grin.

Doug blushed and looked slightly crosseyed in an attempt to look at his nose. "My nose? Cute? Doubtful."

Bobby giggled softly, shaking his head. "No, really. Cute enough to kiss." And with that pronouncement, he kissed his fingertip and tapped Doug's nose a second time, his drink forgotten.

Doug blinked, confused. "And what brought this obsession with my nose on, Bobby?"

Bobby shrugged lightly. "Oh, it's not just your nose." He sighed and moved his finger lower, lightly caressing his fingertip over Doug's lips. "Your mouth, too...and your eyes...I never noticed how handsome you are." He blushed.

Doug's lips moved silently. Really, they'd been doing far too much of that today. But then, a lot of people had been telling him how handsome and wonderful he was, and that was usually good to leave him lost for words.

Bobby grinned and reached over to pluck a cookie from the box, freezing it instantly. "Here, try it like this," he murmured, bringing the cookie to Doug's lips. "They're good chilled...a lot of things are." He licked his lips quickly, still grinning.

Doug raised an eyebrow at Bobby's double entendre, but dutifully took the cookie. "Actually, I know they are, but if I left them in the freezer, they'd be gone in about five seconds." He chuckled.

"You're welcome to come to my room anytime, and get them chilled...personally," Bobby replied, his finger moving to stroke Doug's cheek lightly. "Anytime."

Doug was still completely lost for words. Was it his imagination, or was Bobby..."Um, Bobby? Why are you...I mean, what made you...um..."

"Hmm?" Bobby moved his hand up to play with Doug's hair, smiling absently. "God, why didn't I ever notice how hot you are?" he whispered to himself, licking his lips again.

"Um, because you know how very very straight I am?" Doug asked hesitantly.

Bobby sighed wistfully. "Yeah..." It didn't seem to deter him much, though. He kept combing his fingers through Doug's hair. "You know...if you ever wanted to know what it might be like, on the other side..." He left the offer open, giving Doug a sly smile that was very, well...un-Bobbylike.

Doug blinked. "I dunno Bobby. I honestly never had any real curiosity in that direction."

Bobby pouted slightly. "Not even a teeny bit? Everyone has just a little curiosity." He leaned forward, his breath cold as he whispered into Doug's ear, "I won't tell anyone..."

Doug shivered at the combination of Bobby's voice so near his ear, as well as the cold breath. "Not even a teeny bit, Bobby, sorry. I mean, I really really like girls." He sighed.

Bobby pulled back and sighed, picking up his drink finally. "The offer's open," he said and took a drink, giving Doug a heated look.

"Sorry, Bobby, I'm flattered, but I just don't think so." Doug shrugged. "Another Thin Mint?"

--------------------------

Doug was...well, if he was honest with himself, he was hiding in his room a bit. His excuse was homework, but the fact was, today had been an extremely odd day. Rahne, Marie-Ange, Lorna...even Bobby had sort of come on to him, telling him how they never really noticed how kind and caring he was. It was flattering, but also a little odd.

Kitty bit her lip, standing outside Doug and Jamie's door. Something was... something was different today, but she didn't know what it was. There was just something different, and that thing had led her here - not a terribly unusual place for her to be, excep that she knew Jamie wasn't in there and she still wanted to be here. Knocking, she called out, "Doug, you in there?"

Doug looked up. "Hm? Oh yeah, I'm here. C'mon in, Kit."

There was that strange feeling again... Squashing it, whatever it was, Kitty opened the door and stepped softly inside, shutting it behind her. As she saw Doug, she bit her lip, nervously toeing the ground. "Um, hey..." she said, almost shyly

Doug turned and smiled. "Hey, Kit. Jamie's not here, and the kidbits are off doing whatever. Just me here, doing homework. Not very exciting." He chuckled. "Although exciting's overrated sometimes. I've been having...an odd day."

"Yeah, I know," Kitty said, Doug's smile pulling an answering smile out of her, a very slight blush staining her cheeks. "Odd how," she asked, trying to distract herself.

Doug waved a hand in a vague gesture. "It's hard to explain. Some people are being...unusually friendly. Or something. Like I said, hard to explain. It's kinda confusing." He shrugged.

Stepping slowly into the room, Kitty settled down on the edge of Doug's bed, head cocked towards him. "Overly friendly...?"

"Touching, cuddling, that sort of thing. Being a lot closer than is usual for personal space and all that."

"Oh," Kitty said simply, not sure what to say to that. Not sure what to say about the almost angry feeling in her at the idea of someone touching Doug. Instead she simply leaned her chin on her hand, watching Doug with a small smile on her face.

Doug shrugged, closing his textbook and turning to face Kitty. "So, what's up with you? You and Jamie have a nice Valentine's Day?"

Kitty bit her lip, glancing away for a second. "Yeah," she said, "yeah, we did. It was... it was... nice. Yeah." Everything was so confusing.

Doug cocked his head, reading the confusion in Kitty's body language. "Is something the matter, Kit? You know you can talk to me. Does it have something to do with whatever bad news Jamie was telling me you'd gotten?"

"No, nothing like that." Of course she could tell Doug about that. "Um, that's about my parents - they're getting a divorce, and my mom had a really rotten way of letting me know."

Doug patted Kitty's knee comfortingly. "Aw, Kit, that sucks. How did you find out?"

Kitty shifted somewhat on the bed, bringing herself a little closer to Doug when he patted her knee - almost instinctively. "My mom emailed me about a month after my dad moved out and told me. It was... kind of sudden." Her body language hinted at how upset she still was over it, but it seemed overshadowed by the confusion she was feeling, and something else.

Doug nodded slowly. "Damn. You'd think they could have bothered to tell their own daughter." He shook his head. "So if it's not that, then what's the problem?"

"Yeah," Kitty agreed, then shook her head slightly. "I'm not sure, really. Something... Well, I guess my day's been a little odd too."

Doug nodded encouragingly. "Do you want to talk about it? Would that help? What's been happening?"

Shifting again on the bed so she could see him better - also bringing herself a little closer yet - Kitty said, "Um, I'm not sure. I've just... felt kind of off all day. Like... well, like there was something really important, something really new going on, only... I'm not sure..." Meeting Doug's eyes, she slowly trailed off.

Doug took Kitty's hand and squeezed it. "Well, whatever it is, we'll figure it out, and we'll fix it, okay? I hate seeing my friends upset about anything."

Kitty's eyes dropped down to where Doug's hand was holding hers, and she couldn't help smiling. "Thank you," she said. Without thinking about it, she leaned forward and kissed him.

Jamie froze, just inside the door, his backpack dropping out of his hand forgotten. He swallowed several times--when had his mouth gotten so dry?--before managing a choked "Come in at a bad time, did I?"

Doug jerked as if stung, pushing Kitty away hastily. "Jamie, um, it's not what it looks like. Your girlfriend...um, okay it _is_ what it looks like, but I have no idea why she did it!"

Kitty was shoved away, and _that hurt_. She turned to Jamie, eyes wide, then looked back at Doug. "Oh God..." she moaned softly, filled with confusion again. "Jamie... I... I mean, Doug I... Oh God."

Jamie couldn't make himself look at Kitty. It hurt too much. Doug, though . . ."Seems pretty goddamn obvious to me, you traitor." His lips stretched in a horrible, fake smile. "Well, you kids have fun, I'll just . . . go . . . do something else then." He spun on his heel and fled.

Doug stood, pivoted smoothly, and drove his hand into the wall. "Dammit!" Turning to Kitty, he growled, "Uh, no offense Kitty, but what the hell?"

Kitty watched Jamie walk out, heart twisting, then turned back to Doug, her hand reaching out instinctively before she dropped it. "I don't... Oh God... I'm... Doug, I think," her voice dropped to the faintest whisper. "I think I'm in love with you."

Doug blinked, staring at Kitty. "You _what_?" The crazy part of it was, her body language read like she was telling the truth.

"I don't know how this happened," she cried softly, burrying her head in her hands. "It's just... you're so wonderful and sweet, and you're always there for me. I love you. But... I love Jamie. I'm... Oh God, Doug, I'm so confused."

Doug concentrated on breathing evenly. "I think...I think you should go find Jamie now, Kit."

He didn't love her... Her entire body seemed to collapse in on itself for a second. "I... yeah," she said, softly. "I'm sorry Doug. I... I..." but she couldn't bring herself to say she shouldn't have said it, shouldn't have done it.

Doug sighed and placed a tentative hand on Kitty's shoulder. "It's okay, Kit. I just...I couldn't do that to Jamie. I'm flattered, honest. Just...I don't want him doing anything stupid. Please, go find him?"

Kitty leaned slightly into his hand, and then nodded. "I'll go... I'm... yeah." Holding herself tightly to keep from doing anything stupid, she stood and headed for the door. Pausing at the doorway she looked back at him, biting her lip. "Doug..."

Doug looked up sadly. "Yeah, Kit?"

"I..." she started, then stopped. "Never mind." She quickly ducked out of the room, pausing in the hall to swipe the slowly appearing tears away before dropping through the floor to go looking for Jamie.

Doug looked assessingly at the wall again before smashing his fist into it for the second time. "This day just keeps getting better and better..." he muttered.

--------------------------

Jamie fled through the halls, not knowing where he was going, not really seeing anything but tears, not really hearing anything but a roaring in his ears. Finally, he came to rest in an empty, possibly unused classroom, catching his foot around one leg of a desk and bouncing into the wall hard enough to shake himself awake.

Awake was not an improvement; with awareness came memory. God, I can't believe they--Kitty--oh God, it's over. What did I do? They'd been fine on Saturday, just two days ago--he didn't have Doug's way with body language, but he knew Kitty--he'd thought he'd known Kitty--and they'd been fine, they'd been better than fine. How could so much change in so little time?

I can't believe this is happening.

So don't. The thought sounded remarkably like his grandfather. His thoughts often did, especially when he was being an idiot.

I saw them. She kissed him. I saw the way she looked at him. What's not to believe?

Wake up, boy. On any other day, if you hadn't seen it happen, would you have believed either of them capable of anything like this?

Jamie thought about that. Doug . . . Doug not only wore his heart on his sleeve, he wore a giant neon sign on his head that pointed to it. For all he could see when other people were lying, he was terrible at it himself; if he'd fallen for Kitty, he never could have hidden it. And Doug was too nice a guy to let it get that far in the first place. As for Kitty . . . if Jamie knew nothing else in this world, he knew Kitty loved him.

But that's why it hurts. I saw them. Somehow I must have been wrong.

His mental Grandpa snorted in disgust. You know better than that. You have a choice. What do you believe? Your eyes, or your heart?

And Jamie thought about that. And then he thought some more.

He was no stranger to feeling two things at once. It was part of the package deal, with the giant physics headache and the truly weird questions about his clothes. He was feeling two things now.

On the one hand, guilt: Oh, God, I'm a moron. They're never going to forgive me for this.

On the other, anger. Somebody did this to her. I'm going to grind them into paste.

But the question was who. And unfortunately, in a house full of mutants, Jamie was spoiled for choice.

Still, there was someone whose power was emotions, whose control was erratic at best, and he soon drifted to the top of Jamie's short list.

You don't know he did it, his inner voice cautioned. And even if he did, you don't know if he meant to--or even if he knows about it. Innocent until proven guilty, accident until proven malice. Go carefully.

Jamie nodded to himself and, wishing for once he was strong enough to bruise through the process, duped. And again. And again, until he hit capacity. One, he gave his anger, and sent to the gym, to do to the heavy bag what he wished he could do to whoever had hurt Kitty, wondering if in his mind the bag would have his own face. One, he gave his fear, and sent it running down the horse trails. The others he sent elsewhere, each with their own burden. When they were gone, he sat for a while, and when he was calm enough, he stood up, and went upstairs.

Jamie knocked on a door he assumed was Manuel de la Rocha's, hoping the guy hadn't moved without updating the directory. He flipped through his dupes, quickly, for a little bargain-basement catharsis--what with all the control problems the guy's journal entries talked about, maybe he couldn't stop feeling angry and hurt and betrayed, but he could at least put those feelings a little further away than arm's length, which Manuel might appreciate if he wasn't messing with Doug on purpose.

Manuel was in his room, with his iPod on, music blaring, and focusing in on the feelings it generates. As a new method of emotional shielding, it seemed to be working fairly well. But he did note that his door is being knocked upon, and stood to open it. "Si?" he says.

"Uh, hey. I'm Jamie Madrox, Doug's roommate? Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Manuel turned down the volume on his iPod and stepped backwards. "I suppose so. Come in, please." He gestured into his room, which looked like the Dirty Laundry Bomb detonated in the middle of it. "The maid service here is quite atrocious, but ... ah, here, Sit here." he said, motioning to the chair he just brushed all sorts of dirty laundry off of. "What can Empath do for you?"

Jamie blinked at the mess. "We mostly do our own laundry. Uh, never mind. Actually, I was wondering--is it possible you could change the way somebody feels without knowing you're doing it?"

Manuel blinked at the rather invasive nature of the question. "It is not impossible." he admitted. "Why?" And after he asked, he tried an empathic scan of Jamie, trying to determine why he was asking such rude things.

Jamie was fairly calm, although there was the definite impression he was holding onto the calm by his fingernails, and a confusing welter of darker emotions trailed off in nearly every direction; everything felt almost muted, spread out and staticky. "Because I walked in on Kitty and Doug doing something they'd never do unless their heads were fairly seriously messed up." An emotional surge, anger and betrayal and fear, accompanied those words--but it drained away almost immediately down the distant threads.

Manuel made an 'ah' sound. "So, naturally, you come to blame me." He tried, and failed, to hide the bitterness in his voice. "What makes you suspect that I had anything to do with it?"

Jamie shrugged. "If I blamed you, I'd be blaming you, not asking if it could be an accident. If it wasn't you, fine, we're cool, but you said yourself on the journals your powers aren't stable, and you've had weird feedback with Doug before, so I figured I'd ask. Nothing personal unless it ends up being."

"You're too kind." he said flatly. "I had nothing to do with it. I am far from the only person who can change a person in this house. Have you talked to Amanda, or to Betsy, or Alison, or any of the others? Or is there another reason you came to me first? Do you want me to get you your girl back?"

"Alison wouldn't, I don't think Ms. Braddock would even if she has been acting . . . kinda weird . . . and--" He blinked. "Wait, what, Amanda? How's that work? I thought she just turned people into frogs, and healed, and stuff." Hope flickered briefly at Manuel's last words, but guttered out, and he shook his head. "If she wants me back after this is fixed, it'll work out."

Manuel couldn't help but snicker at the naievete on display before him. "Amanda's a sorceress. She has charms at her command. Perhaps she used one?"

Whatever sluicegate Jamie had on his emotions was becoming less effective at draining away his anger. "Maybe she did. Guess I should go look for her, then. Sorry about the misunderstanding."

"I'm sure you are." said the empath. "If you'd like to accuse me of anything else, you know where my room is. Good day, Mr Madrox." He looked angry now, more angry than the slight would seem to warrant. "Wait. Why do you feel so blasted odd? It's like there are five or so of you, all of whom feel different."

"Six, actually. That worked, then? Thought it might make it easier if what I'm feeling wasn't in your face."

"Your consideration is overwhelming." he smirked. "But it still doesn't explain why I feel six of you."

Jamie shrugged. "Because there _are_ six of me. That's my mutant power. I can go up to fifteen or so on a good day, but six is my usual limit."

Manuel blinked slowly. "That's ... very interesting. Are they all ... you?"

"Most of the time. I tend to confuse the hell out of psis, the Professor says. Look, I don't mean to be rude, but this is kind of a bad time to talk about my powers. D'you happen to know where Amanda is right now?"

Manuel shrugged. "I don't have any idea. She might be with the Cajun, if he's in the Mansion. Or going flying."

"Damn. Okay, I'll find her myself, then. Thanks anyway." Jamie got up and turned to go, but paused in the doorway. "Look, I know we kind of got off on the wrong foot here--if you're still curious about my powers after stuff calms down some, I'm not that hard to find."

Manuel smiled thinly. "I'll do that." he said, by way of a promise. "You know where I am as well. And if that girl of yours won't come back to you, let me know. I'll see what I can arrange."

--------------------------

Jamie stalked around the building, headed for the back door; the false start with Manuel had blunted the edge of his anger, but there was a lot of it to blunt--plenty left over if Amanda turned out to be the one responsible for--his mind still skittered away from what he'd seen in his room, even though he couldn't stop thinking about it; the scene swirled around in his head like a hairball caught in the whirlpool around a bathtub drain.

He really had to stop trying to come up with metaphors when he was this angry. It just didn't turn out well. The cold wasn't helping either; he'd wanted to be as calm as he could when he found her, because it was just barely possible he'd get it wrong twice in a row, but the stiff breeze wasn't helping his zen.

And there was the puff of smoke. The rest of Amanda came into view a couple of seconds later, and Jamie dialed for a calm, reasonable, or at very least not-incoherent-with-rage tone of voice.
"'Lo, Amanda. What've you been up to lately?" There. Nice neutral question. That dupe in the gym hitting things with a baseball bat had been a good idea.

Amanda looked surprised. Whilst the two of them were on reasonably good speaking terms, Jamie wasn't generally one of the people who sought out her company. Particularly when she was indulging in a quiet fag or three. "Hey, Jamie. Been doin' sod all, really. What brings you out here?"

"Eh, just wondering if you'd talked to Doug recently. Maybe given him something?"

A strange expression crossed her face, fleetingly, at the mention of Doug's name. Then she shrugged. "Might have. He's been so mopey lately, figured he could use some cheerin' up. He's such a sweet bloke."

"Yeah, he is. I just mention it because, y'know, people have been acting kinda weird around him today, and I wondered if maybe you knew anything about that."

"'Weird'? In this place?" Amanda snorted and blew smoke out over the railing. "Yer gunna have t' be a bit more specific than that, Jamers."

"Well, let's see," Jamie said evenly, eyes narrowed. "How about, for starters, Kitty trying to find out what his tonsils taste like. That specific enough for you?"

"She wot?" Amanda's stance went from a casual lounge against the railing to bolt upright and tense. "With Doug?" Realisation crossed her face. "He must've used that love potion I gave him."

"That would probably do it." Really shouldn't punch girls even if they really deserve it. Definitely shouldn't kick them in the face. That dupe in the gym was really coming in handy. "That thing come with an antidote? No, let me rephrase. Go mix up the goddamn antidote."

"Sod that. That skank's up there with my bloke. I can't be havin' with that." Amanda ground her cigarette out on the railing and tossed the butt into the small garbage can that had appeared not long after the back porch became Smokers Central.

Jamie blinked. Then manfully suppressed what was probably going to be entirely too evilly amused a smile. Irony, thy name is 'incompetent witch with all the ethics of a garden slug.'
"Yeah," he said as sympathetically as he could muster. "You really shouldn't let that kind of thing just happen. Maybe you ought to go up there and make sure the competition stays away." And maybe Doug would take the hint and figure out how to convince her to take the whammy off.
And, okay, he felt slightly guilty inflicting an incompetent, lust-crazed witch with all the ethics of a garden slug on his roommate . . . but then, if Doug had actually used the love potion on purpose, he deserved it, and if he hadn't, maybe Jamie was being a bad person but he just didn't care.

"Last I saw, he was up in our room. Better get up there quick before something else happens, huh?"

"An' I've got just the way t' make sure he won't be thinkin' of any other girl but me," Amanda agreed with a leer. "You keep that bint of yours away from my Dougie, all right?"

"Yeah, I'll do that. Run along now. Don't want to keep 'your Dougie' waiting."

Amanda left without another thought, intent on finding Doug and distracting him for a good, long time.

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(continued in next post)