Kyle and Laurie: Worst Lunch EVER.

[x-wildchild.livejournal.com]

Kyle drags Laurie out for lunch. While he can keep her from trying to do homework, he can't keep her from snooping on those medical files that Bishop gave her. Which is just as well since they reveal just who, or, well, what, is killing all those people in District X.



Laurie made a noise of protest as Kyle removed her bookbag from her hand and gestured for her helmet as she took it off. "Hey! I have stuff in there I need," she said, handing him the helmet and trying to fluff out her hair from it's current 'hat-head' configuration. "I figured I could read the next chapter of 'Mutant Biology: A Study' and get ahead of the curve while we ate."

"That's not even a real textbook. That's like, that thing Doc Hank's going to write for his eleventh doctorate." Kyle protested. "You're crazy, and if you take a book out at lunch I am gonna eat it." He grinned, flashing fangs. "Come on. Lunch, we can totally like, be out of the mutant closet, I can eat all the lamb gyros I can stand and you can eat feta cheese. I love this place, its close to District X. Jubilee found it."

"I do like feta," Laurie replied hesitantly, and then shrugged and smiled at her friend. "Sure, why not? One afternoon of not trying to cram knowledge into my brain isn't going to kill me. We can even play 'fashion mistake of the day'. Lay on, McDuff!"

She did check her bookbag and pull out the files Bishop had given her before she let him close it up. She didn't want them falling into any hands but the people they were for, and you could never tell what was going to happen in New York.

His own bookbag went into the under-seat compartment on his bike, which he locked. Laurie's went over his shoulder, where he could play keep-away if she started to try to be anti-social. Or where he could threaten to leave chew marks in her O. Chem books.

Kyle poked at the file folder with a claw. "If that's educational, I'm going to eat it. I'm seriously gonna roll it into my gyro and eat the paper." He'd eaten paper a few times. It was a great way to get a dollar for a bottle of water from some idiot wearing too much Axe.

"Noooo," Laurie murmured, hiding it behind her back. "No eating my work stuff, Bishop would have kittens, or Vanessa would and then she'd be all 'What the hell do I do with all these blue kittens?' and I would totally blame you and say you had to find places for them to live."

"Okay, work stuff is like, kinda acceptable. Maybe. If you share cool stuff about being all like, Private Eye-y and stuff." Kyle pushed the door of the little Greek cafe open and let Laurie duck under his arm. Being tall was cool. "Money me. I'm gonna go order. And you still owe me lunch. You are paying for one of my gyros." Granted, he was going to eat four, but he was only going to make her pay for one.

"I'll just put it all on my card, so order whatever," Laurie noted, waving her purse at him. "They've got credit card facilities here, yeah?"

Kyle shook his head. "Cash only." and then left to order. It wasn't that urgent that she pay him back.

A few minutes later he returned with a tray with a half-dozen gyros, and a greek salad, and a little Styrofoam bowl of olives. "You owe me seventeen dollars, or twenty if you want me to eat an olive so you can watch me make the face." Laurie was already slightly bent over the far corner table, reading glasses on and file folder open.

"I've got a twenty on me, but you have to let me photograph you making the face so I can give it to Angel," Laurie said, turning a page on the report as she looked up at him and then pulled a piece of feta out of the greek salad and popped it into her mouth. She closed her eyes for a moment and made happy noises as she chewed. "Cheeeeese."

Kyle rolled his eyes, but dutifully picked up an olive from the bowl. "Okay, but if this gets 'mysteriously' pasted on my locker, I am totally blaming you and throwing you in the pool in your scrubs." He waited until Laurie pulled out her cell phone to take the picture and then popped the olive in his mouth. The briny taste made his face screw up, and then he was blinking away the flash. "Seriously, who -eats- those things? Oh, right. You. You eat them. What is wrong with you?"

Laurie poked her tongue out at him and then grabbed an olive and popped it in her mouth, chewing happily.

"I like salty things," she replied simply.

"Your mom likes salty things." Kyle said, automatically. "Okay, so what has you all reading glasses anti-social despite like, my threat to eat your file." Instead, he took an absurdly large bite of gyro, wincing slightly - it was a little on the side of too much pepper, but he was trying to coax his taste buds into being less incredibly wussy.

"Your Mum's face likes salty things," Laurie replied, just as automatically. "X-factor is looking into a possible serial killer at the moment, and Bishop gave me some files to run by Hank and Jean. There's been all these mutants taken lately, mostly around District-X, so the cops don't really care all that much. Some guy called Hobbes asked us to investigate after his partner went missing. Thing is, there just doesn't seem to be all that much that links these people together. I mean, they don't even go to the same bowling alley, or something like that....What? Bowling is aggressive! Someone could totally murder someone over a bowling incident."

"Eff the po-po." Kyle grunted around a mouthful of lamb and pita. "So, what like you guys got hired and there's a big list. Dude, that's messed up, you'd think there'd be like a warning or something." He popped the last bite of lamb in his mouth and unwrapped another gyro. Three down, two to go, and Laurie had barely started hers. "What, you got the gory details in there or something? Eat your food."

"Did you honestly just use the word 'po-po'?" Laurie asked, giving him an unbelieving look. "I think the 1980's called, they want their colloquialisms back. Also, I think I just found out that Bishop likes fig milkshakes, I didn't even know you could get fig milkshakes."

Kyle's mouth was full, so he responded with a raised middle finger until he'd finished his food. "Dude, fig milkshakes what the hell? How did you even find that out? Why is that even in there?" He shook his head, laughing. "And dude, the 80's are like, back, remember? Or like, so people keep saying when they're all complaining about Kanye's sunglasses."

"Bishop's got an expense report listed, don't know if the milkshake is for him or the contact, he didn't list it. Also, I think people complain about Kayne because he's a douche," Laurie muttered, eyes glancing over the actual autopsy report as a small frown formed. She reached for another bite of feta and chewed on it before blinking. "This autopsy is just plain weird, no wonder Bishop wanted me to show the Docs."

"Dude, I don't wanna know." Kyle said, and still leaned forward to try to read the report upside-down. Which he couldn't actually do. "Seriously, don't tell me. I want to enjoy my food and not want to barf and I have like nowhere to keep leftovers." He stuffed the second half of a gyro in his mouth to demonstrate his point.

"You know, for a boy you're incredibly squeamish when it comes to bodily functions," Laurie noted, scanning the next few lines of the report. She paused for a moment, and re-read them, wondering where she'd read them before. It took her only a second to think back through her memories and as it dawned on her, she went pale, and then felt sick. "Oh shit, Kyle...Oh holy shit."

"I don't bleed out my... " Kyle looked up from his second-to-last gyro. "What? Dude, please don't tell me if it's gross. Seriously, yeah, I'm squeamish."

"Shitshitshitshit, oh fucking hell," Laurie said, no small amount of panic in her voice. "It's dinosaur aids guy, look!"

She thrust the autopsy report toward Kyle, pointing to the part she'd just seen. The part that said it was like all the life had been drained from the victim's cells.

"Ah, fuck." Kyle spat out the mouthful of food and pushed his plate away. "Come on. We'll head to the office, you can call Vee or Bish on the way. They gotta know what this dude can do." He stood up, grabbed his motorcycle helmet and then stopped mid-step. "No, wait, you wear mine. It's got the phone in it, I can wear the spare."