LOGS: Kitty/Warren, Angelo/Warren, Remy/Warren

[x-angel.livejournal.com]

Kitty was considering her options as she puttered about the kitchen. She didn't really want a sandwhich, but anything she might actually want would probably require actual time to cook, and there'd be left overs. Not that left overs were really a problem in the Mansion, but she didn't really want to deal with them. Sighing, she pulled out a box of pasta and considered it. With a shrug she set the box on the counter and started putting a pot on to boil.

Warren stepped into the kitchen, still sweaty from the afternoon's training. Nothing got his appetite worked up like a good training session, and he thought he'd grab a bite to eat before heading up to shower. He swung open the refrigetator door and had started rummaging for leftovers when he heard a sound coming from the counter and realized that someone else was in the kitchen.

"Oh, hey," he said to Kitty.

Glancing over her shoulder, Kitty smiled. "Hiya. Want some pasta?"

Warren flashed a grateful smile. "Are you making some? If it's not too much trouble... I am pretty hungry."

She nodded. "I am, yeah, and God knows _I_ can't finish it all on my own." As the water began to boil she pulled the top of the box and dumped it in, being careful not to let the water spill over. "Got any sauce preferences?" she asked as she chucked the box towards the bin and moved to peer into the cupboard.

Warren moved in behind her, surveying the contents of the cupboard. "I'm not picky," he said. "You're cooking, so just choose whatever's easiest."

She grinned, then snagged one of the plain tomato sauce cans and a thing of canned olives. "Work for you?" she asked, holding them out for his inspection.

"I love olives." He sat back down at the counter, watching her heat up the tomato sauce. "So, I've been meaning to tell you-- you and Jamie really did a great job with that meet-n-greet the other week."

Stirring the pasta briefly, Kitty smiled. "I can't really take any of the credit," she said. "It was all Jamie's idea - I just got him some contacts."

"Oh, take your fair share of the credit," Warren said lightly. "I saw you, working the crowd like Hillary Clinton. Didn't know you would turn out to be such a good politician."

She blushed and laughed. "Well, I've had good teachers, I guess. I mean, between watching Dr. Grey and the Professor, to classes with Ms. Frost..." She shrugged.

Warren bit his lip at the mention of the late Dr. Grey, but didn't mention it. "When's the next one?" he asked.

Kitty missed Jean but had been coping with everything for so long... "I'm not sure. I know Jamie wants to make them regular things, but I think he's planning on waiting until after break."

"Not for a while, then," Warren remarked. "Too bad. That guy Eric promised to let me borrow his Futurama DVD set, and I think he'll have long forgotten by then." Warren crossed to the cupboard and pulled out two sodas. "Coke okay?"

"Yeah, that'll be grand." Pulling out a strainer, she slowly dumped the pasta out. "You could probably get in touch with him on your own, if you wanted," she suggested. "Hey, pass me some plates?"

He got out two plates and two cups. "Speaking of which, what are you doing for spring break?"

"Probably just relaxing." She dished the pasta out and added a little bit of sauce to the smaller serving. "Here, don't know how much you want," she said, handing over the ladel. "And yeah, haven't got any real plans."

"You?"

Warren piled some pasta on his plate and poured on the sauce. He handed her a cup of Coke with ice, and returned to his seat. "Just decided to go to England with the rest of the gang," he replied. "I was going to go to Russia with Piotr and Illyana, but I don't think they really feel up to it. So London it is."

Kitty nodded. "Yeah, I can see that. Do you know when the doc's going to let Illyana out of the medlab? I haven't heard anything..."

Frowning, Warren twirled some spaghetti with his fork. "I don't know any more about it than you do," he said. "I just know Piotr has literally worried himself sick over it."

"I don't blame him, really." She sighed softly. "Was hoping they'd have told you teachers something."

"Yeah." Warren sighed too. "Kind of disturbing how many people have been in the medlab recently, isn't it?"

Kitty nodded, twirling her own pasta. "I'd swear things were never this hectic even a year ago..."

"I wasn't here a year ago, but from what I've heard, yeah, I got that impression." Warren took a sip of his soda, ice cubes clinking against the glass. "It'll be good for everyone to get away for a little while, I think. Although with the way things've been, I am a bit concerned about safety."

"Agreed, break will definitely be good for us. As for security..." She shrugged. "I guess, I can only hope that the Professor and Jake and Mr. Wisdom are working on it."

"So they keep telling us, but that didn't keep Illyana from getting kidnapped, did it?" Warren said, a trace of bitterness in his voice. Surprised at his own anger, he tried to soften his last statement. Kitty was a student; he was a teacher. She was supposed to look up to him, and his last sentence probably hadn't been appropriate. "But I'm sure things will be much better from here on out. They're competent people."

Kitty considered him closely. "Which time?" she finally asked, turning back to her pasta.

Not quite sure how to respond, Warren slurped up the last of his spaghetti in silence. "I know they're trying," he said lamely.

Kitty nodded. "Yeah, I know. We're all trying our hardest, and I guess we've just got to have faith that it'll work out sooner or later."

Warren jumped up and put his plate in the sink. "What do you say to dessert, Kitty?" he asked briskly. "I think I have a slice of chocolate cake left from the last time I went out. Would you like to help me finish it?"

Kitty smiled. "Yes please, sounds lovely." Moving over to the sink she set her own plate in, opening the tap to let the pots soak.

He pulled out quite a large piece of cake. He'd bought a large slice, figuring he'd finish the rest some other time. "Dig in," he commanded, handing her a fork.

Grinning, she set to. Her first bite brought a wide smile to her lips. "Oh, wow. Fantastic."

Warren nodded in agreement, a huge smile on his own face. "Isn't it?" he said. "It's from the French bakery across town. They make some of the best cake I've ever had the pleasure of experiencing."

She grinned. "The things I haven't managed to learn about this area..."

Warren winked. "Get Jamie to take you there sometime. I can give you guys directions."

"Heh. Sounds like a plan." Taking another bite of the cake, she glanced up at the clock on the wall. "Blast," she muttered. "I should probably go..."

Warren closed his eyes, savoring the cake. "You do that," he said cheerfully. Dessert almost never failed to lift his spirits. "It'll be in the fridge if you want any more. Provided, of course, that I don't finish it all myself right now."

She chuckled. "Your cake, you've every right to finish it off. I'll snag the address some other time." Dumping her fork into the sink, she scowled at the dishes. "Hey, Warren, can you do the dishes for me? There's not too many of them..."

Warren shook his head. "Vile temptress!" he joked. "You lure me in with promises of food and then enslave me to do your bidding." He laughed at himself. "Yeah, sure, don't worry about it."

Laughing, Kitty said, "Grand, thanks. Later." She waved, then ducked out of the room, heading off to do some work.



Warren impatiently changed the channels on the TV in the rec room. This was what he got for deciding to watch television on a Friday evening. Nothing was on, save for another one of those annoying VH1 countdowns. "100 Moments in Rock History" or some such. Sighing, he crossed to the DVD shelf and started surveying his choices.

Angelo wandered in and sat down without really noticing anyone was there, before movement to one side caught his eye and he glanced over to see who it was. "Hey, Warren."

Warren turned to glance at Angelo over his shoulder. "Hey there. Um, unless you're really into these VH1 countdowns, I'm thinking of selecting a DVD. That alright with you?"

Angelo shrugged. "Fine by me. What've we got?"

Motioning Angelo over, Warren held up two DVDs. "Right now it's down to Pulp Fiction or Clerks. Preferences?"

Angelo considered the choices. "Pulp Fiction?" he asked hopefully.

Warren opened it and slipped it into the DVD player. "Pulp Fiction it is." He settled back on the couch and pointed to the armchair. "Sit."

Angelo sat obediently. "So how've you been?"

"Taking care of Piotr," Warren replied, concentrating on the menu screen, which was refusing to respond. Frustrated, he tossed the remote to Angelo. "I swear, I'm no good with electronics. Why don't you give it a shot?"

Angelo caught the remote deftly and proceeded to make it do everything he wanted with no apparent effort. "Yeah? He feelin' better?"

"Seems like it." Warren shrugged. "Speaking of which, I was going to ask you-- I heard from some of the teachers that you haven't been going to class. Any reason why?"

Angelo blinked. "That was only one day", he muttered. "An' yes. There was a reason."

Warren shifted in his seat. His eyes were glued to the screen, but he was obviously paying attention to the conversation as well. "Care to talk about it?"

Angelo fidgeted. He'd never been good at refusing direct questions, but this wasn't one he particularly wanted to answer. "I was just havin' a bad day. Had a talk with Amanda in the mornin', and she... gave me some stuff to think about. It won't happen again."

Warren nodded. "Oh, Amanda. Yeah, she doesn't seem to be doing so well these days either. Is everything all right now?"

Angelo scowled. "I wouldn't know. I'm thinkin' not, though."

The bitterness in Angelo's voice caught Warren's attention. Finally tearing his eyes from the screen, he flashed Angelo a concerned look. "Are you sure you don't want to talk about it at all?"

"Thanks, but I don't think so. Let's just say Amanda an' me aren't on the best of terms right now."

Warren let out a short laugh. "I don't think Amanda and /anyone/ are on the best of terms right now."

Angelo shrugged. "Think she's gettin' on okay with Marie an' Shinobi. An' I was okay with her too. 'Til Wednesday", he finished abruptly.

Warren shrugged. "I tried talking to her a couple of times, but she seems to be even more antisocial than usual," he said. "We can only hope the trip to Brighton will fix some of that."

Angelo nodded. "That's what it's for, right?"

"That's what I've been told. Hold on, this is my favorite part." Warren wouldn't talk for the remainder of the scene, and then burst out laughing. "So anyway," he said, still laughing a little. "What are you doing for spring break?"

Angelo shrugged. "Not sure yet. Might see if my mom can get out to New York, an' stay with her for a few days."

"Sounds pretty good to me," Warren smiled. "I love New York. But of course, you already knew that."

Angelo chuckled. "Who doesn't love New York?"

"Any particular plans when you get there?" Warren asked.

"Not really. Don't even know if Mom will be able to get cross-country, yet."

Warren pondered this. "Has she ever been to New York before?"

"Only when she came here to visit, a couple of months ago", Angelo told him. "An' she wasn't here that long."

"Oh, you're going to have so much fun showing her around," Warren said enviously. "I love taking people around New York."

Angelo laughed. "Well, you're welcome to tag along, if she can make it. At least some of the time."

"Actually, I'm going to London," Warren said. "I'm chaperoning, looks like. But I can suggest a few places that you could go, if you like."

Angelo grinned. "That'd be good, thanks."

Warren slouched further into the couch. "Hey, so I hear Jono's your new roommate. How's that coming for you two?"

"Not too bad", Angelo answered with a shrug. "'Bout as good as could be expected."

"Fair enough, I guess," Warren said nonchalantly. He reached into a drawer and pulled out a box of Junior Mints. "Chocolate?"

"Yeah, please", Angelo answered. "Never turn down food, 'specially chocolate."

Warren laughed. "Now that's a rule a man could live by."

Angelo grinned. "'s always worked for me."

A clock beeped, and Warren sat up. "Oh, shit," he exclaimed. "I forgot. I have plans in about fifteen minutes... Damnit. We haven't even gotten to the good part yet."

Angelo blinked. "'s a DVD", he pointed out. "We can watch the rest again some other time."

"Yeah, I know, but still. Hard to tear myself away." He handed the rest of the Junior Mints to Angelo. "You take care of yourself, you hear? And don't miss any more class."

Angelo nodded. "Most likely won't. Catch you soon."

"Bye," Warren called back as he exited the rec room.



Warren opened the door and peered in. When Remy turned to look, Warren stepped in and crossed to his bed. "Hey," he said. "How are you feeling?"

"Like several demons thought Remy was de lunch special." Remy said, eyes flickering open. He knew the blond man was Worthington, but aside from the odd news article and the occasional pass by in the hall, had never actually talked to him.

Warren shifted, somewhat uncomfortably. "Well, if all accounts are correct, that's exactly what happened," he remarked. He paused. "Ah... thanks for helping out, Remy," he said.

"Not really a choice, homme. One moment, Remy having a quiet smoke, the next I'm in de preachers Hell." Remy said ruefully. "What happened wit' de petite femme? No one been saying much 'bout her."

"Well, from what Piotr's told me, quite a bit. But I'm not exactly sure what happened." Warren surveyed the man lying in front of him. "When are you going to be let out, anyway?"

"Not sure. McCoy said dat maybe tonight I could be moved back to room. But Re,my t'ink dat Bartlett is holding out for twenty t' life." Remy concluded darkly. "Wit'out parole. What brings you down here?"

"Needed to grab some NyQuil for Piotr," Warren responded. "In this mansion, they keep it down in the medlab with the rest of the dangerous drugs. We don't leave it in our bathroom medicine cabinets like normal people." He waved the packet of green pills as proof. "Yeah, Dr. Bartlet seems to prefer playing it safe when it comes to her patients. Illyana's still down here somewhere too."

"NyQuil is dangerous? Dis place just turn everyt'ing on de head, don it. What wit' de boyfriend? Big Russian homme should be used t' de odd cold." Remy said, fishing around the side table for a pack of cards.

Warren found the cards and handed them to Remy. "Yeah, well, I think that with the Illyana incident, he effectively worried himself sick."

"Merci. Dat sound fair. Guess de femme going t' join de other two petit ones soon? Remy hate being cooped up in dis place a lot. Only imagine what de femme feels like." He began to shuffle, starting slowly and gradually speeding up, paying no real attention to what he was doing.

Warren watched Remy shuffle. "Bet you miss smoking the most," he remarked. "From what I hear, you go through a carton a day, or something like that." Remy was shuffling faster and faster. "Um, are we going to play cards or something?" he asked, confused.

"Non. Something dat Remy does. Like t' keep my hands moving." Remy said, and arched an eyebrow. "Less of course, you got some money dat you looking t' wager. Didn't t'ink so." He grinned. "Plus, stops me from t'inking how much I need a smoke."

Warren laughed embarassedly. "I'm no good with cards," he admitted. "I play poker occasionally, but that's about it." He glanced around the room. "I'd offer you a cigarette, but if one of the doctors found out, they'd have my head..."

"Bartlett likely shoot you, homme." Remy said, chuckling. "Non, t'ink I can hold out a little longer. T' be honest, Remy not feeling his best dese days. Maybe try dis clean living t'ing for a little longer. Pretend dat it healthy."

"Bah, who needs healthy when they have nicotine?" Warren joked.

"Vrai. Mind you, Remy currently considering de painkillers on de top of de list." Remy executed a split shuffle, reversing the cards with a flick. "So homme, you another of de teachers here now, or just part of de team?"

Warren kept his eyes on Remy's cards, impressed. He'd never seen anyone shuffle so expertly before. Not that he played cards very often, but still. "Well, I joined the team last spring, and started teaching only this semester. What about you? You have plans?"

"Remy don't even know why I'm here, homme. De purple haired femme just picked me up off de streets and dropped me in a room. Not interested in classes, and sure dat I don want t' get in de middle of a war." Remy looked down at his chest. "Not dat it seem t' matter."

"Around here, you get in trouble pretty much whether you like it or not," Warren agreed wryly. "Thank goodness for spring vacation. Getting away from here could do a lot of people a lot of good."

"Dose wit' a place t' go." Remy said ruefully. He abruptly stopped shuffling, collecting with cards in one hand and dropping them back on the table. "You going off in dis London t'ing, homme?"

Warren nodded. "Just got asked to go as a chaperone. Aren't you going anywhere?"

"Not really any place t' go, homme." Remy said. "T'ink maybe I stay here. Catch up on 'Passions'. Make sure dat de next invaders have someone t' fight."

Warren gave Remy a slightly disgusted look. "'Passions'? The soap opera?"

"Oui." Remy grinned. "It not de Met, but it fills up de time. 'sides, Remy not going t' be able to sleep unless he knows what happened t' Whitney."

Warren shook his head. "I don't know about this, Remy. But if you really like Passions... Have you ever watched 'The O.C.'?"

"Non. Remy not much for television normally. When you mostly see dem through de store windows, it hard t' keep up wit' shows. But found dat during de first week here." Remy shrugged. "Means I don have t' t'ink for a while."

Warren leaned in. "If you like 'Passions' so much, I think you'll like 'The O.C.' It's like 'Passions,' but better. Much better. And things actually happen." Warren grimaced. "I've seen 'Passions' before; I watched it for about a week. Pretty awful stuff. And nothing /ever/ happens."

"Funny, Remy thought it reminded me of de dis place here." Remy said, rubbing his eyes. "Sometime, de idea of nothing happening is a good t'ing. Dis place can be a little too exciting when it wants t'"

Warren laughed. "That's fair. God knows we could do with a little less excitement around here. Never thought I'd envy the 'Full House' kids for having such dull, uninteresting lives, but lately I do."

"Guess dat some other show you talking 'bout." Remy said. Her grinned weakly and settled back into his pillow. "Don' mean t' cut dis party short, but de meds are kicking in, homme. Remy got t' rest of he wants t' leave anytime soon."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Warren apologized. "I shouldn't even have just dropped in unannounced anyway." He stood and started for the door with his packet of NyQuil in hand. "Well, uh, thanks again... and let me know if you're ever in need of cigarettes. Sweet dreams," he called as he shut the door behind him.

"Salut, homme." Remy muttered, before drifting off to sleep.