Log: Paige and Gar, in the lab

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Garrison risks limb and other limb, venturing into the unchartered lands of the lab to ask Paige a question.

 

"Guthrie!" The labs were generally a place that Garrison Kane avoided. When Forge wasn't blowing things up, or McCoy creating giant green clouds of chemical smoke, it was Paige Guthrie staring at a whiteboard with a calculating look and asking off hand if you thought you really needed all four limbs. In general, it was not exactly a comfortable place to hang out and relax. But Kane had a job to do. "Guthrie! You're, like, a minute away from getting called Blondie."

"This is one of those times I'm supposed to recognise a cultural reference and think you're amusing, isn't it?" a muffled voice said, before Paige, hair tied up and safety glasses on, popped up from behind one of the many machines in the lab, this one moved from against the wall to at a slight angle. "Any chance you're here to let me get samples, finally? I've never been happy with the reports done from after the kidnapping."

"I already told you, I'm not comfortable with anyone cutting bits off me. Even for science." Kane paused. "And now, that near 'accidental' miss with the cheese knife during Easter dinner makes a lot more sense."

Pushing her goggles up into her hair, Paige shook her head in disappointment. "I'll be sure to let all those orphan children that the reason I can make them a new liver or leg is that the research is incomplete after you wouldn't share," she told him, but for a small quiver in the corner of her mouth. "So, come on. Why are you here, then, risking limb?"

"I am on a mission from God. Wait, am I wearing sunglasses and a hat? No?" He looked at her quizzical expression. "Nope, not from God then. Actually from the West Coast and the Professor's office. But saying that I'm on a mission from the Professor's office and the West Coast takes too long, and doesn't have the same rolling thunder to it."

"I'm coming to the conclusion that I'm never going to know what you're talking about," she replied after a moment. "And what did the Professor and the West Coast have to say?"

"Scott's been going over the Danger Room programs, and now that Ms. Munroe is gone, he's too swamped to handle the full load alone. The Professor took a look at who's been doing the trainee and New Mutants program design lately and noticed it was us two." Kane shrugged. "So he asked if we'd mind picking up the slack for now."

"Sooo..." Paige drawled, crawling out from behind the machine she was currently tinkering with, brushing down the imaginary dusting on her jeans with her hands. "The same thing we're doing now but for more people. Mostly people who are less inclined to pretend to like our ideas."

"Yes, with the added bonus of being the ones to get yelled at if they don't turn out the way we hope. You got to admit, it's a pretty attractive offer." Kane grinned, his teeth very white against his finally regrown dark beard.

Laughing, Paige came forward and boosted herself up on one of the white counters, the heels of her sneakers bumping solidly on a cabinet underneath. "Well, I'm sold. I mean, it's not like I'm busy or anything. I need something to fill up my afternoons."

"Are you trying to seduce me, Mrs. Robinson? No, don't know that one? Geez, talk about a tough room." Garrison perched himself easily on a lab stool. "So, I thought that a friendly wager should be in order, just to motivate us to make the participants of the Danger Room's lives as miserable as possible."

"Even I know the Beatles, I've just found it best not to encourage you."

Paige smiled, kicking her feet in a second nature sort of way. "I already love this plan, as it excludes me being miserable. Did you have something in mind, or am I going to yet again have to be the brains of this sad operation?"

"Hey, there's honour in being the pretty face of this plan. I was thinking that what we could do with the Danger Room is to maybe expand a little the types of programs we do. I mean, we've got powers training, squad tactics, elaborate obstacle courses; I figured that we could get more inventive and maybe come up with some other ways to use the technology for training. There might have been Next Generation episodes on cable late last night, when they get trapped in the holodeck? Those are awesome."

"Being the cute, furry mascot and the pretty face are not the same thing," she pointed out cheerfully. "I only watched the original series but I think I get you. We send them all to sparkly toga Rome in the most embarrassing way possible, the first one who cries... doesn't win? Maybe I don't understand after all."

"All I'm saying is that we can use this as a chance to try and do something different with the Danger Room for training in between what we already knows works. What do you say?" Kane said, spreading his hands in an open, honest fashion that actually appeared anything but.

Paige stared at him, eyebrows raised. "I'd already signed on until you made that face. You're now going to tell me you plan to run all your tests on me first, aren't you? And your plans involve making me kill puppies to build my resolve or something. Or... drink real beer and spin around a baseball bat? Sorry, my cultural knowledge of Canada beyond up there, sometimes French and better stimulants is limited."

"That's fair. To be honest, it's not a half bad summary." Kane nodded. "Although, there's still one thing we're going to need."

"...a theme song?" she ventured.

"Nope." Kane smiled. "Wil fucking Wheaton."