Log: Kyle and Scott

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Scott and Kyle meet up in the garage and talk class, Halloween costumes and thirteen year old's dreams

Pausing by the door to the garage Scott reached out to straighten the guidelines to the Students model competition which he had pinned up earlier. Smiling slightly he pushed open the door and walked into the garage which seemed to always be in a state of semi-darkness. He stopped by his Pontiac and placed the box he had been carrying down on the hood as he turned to look at his bike. Someone had given him a new set of spark plugs on Valentine's day and he had decided to use it as an excuse to fiddle with the entire electrical system on his bike to try and coax a little more speed out of it. Whistling he strolled over to the storage lockers to collect his tools.

"Hey, boss."  Kyle slid out from under the lift he had the station wagon up on.  "I'm wrapping up, if you need the lift. Just wanted to get an oil change on this thing before I forget." Technically it wasn't his job, Cal handled basic maintenance, or Fred did it occasionally, but with Fred taking over more and more of the groundskeeping and repair work, he sort of missed getting his hands dirty.  Not so much the rest of him though and he unfolded from the dolly and grabbed a rag from the work bench to clean the streak of grease off his face.

Scott started slightly and dropped the toolbelt he had been carrying, "Kyle! I didn't expect to find you down here, he said as she shook his head ruefully and bent to pick up the fallen tools. "Normally it's Fred down here working on something or the other." Scott rested against his car and examined the younger man. "How's college life treating you these days?"

"I'm down to just the student teaching and then I'm so freaking done with it."  Kyle said.  Not that he minded school so much but he was looking forward to being the guy behind the desk, rather than in a chair listening to someone lecture. "And that's...well, it's what it is. Supposedly I need to remember I'm the teacher and have like, classroom decorum or whatever, but..." he waved a hand dismissively "Pfft. Trying to act all "I'm an adult blardeblar" is gonna be fake and bs, and if I'm teaching, I am not bs-ing a bunch of teenagers."

Scott shrugged, "I've found decorum is what you make it. You're the teacher and they're the students. The relationship is already set, you don't have to worry about it. Everyone has their own way of teaching, just do what comes naturally." He'd never had any issues feeling like an adult infront of his students, but he had come around to teaching later than Kyle. "If you want I could use some help with the science classes every now and then."

"Dude, what comes naturally to me is not wearing shoes and swearing every five minutes."  He'd managed to not say more than 'goddamit' in front of the students for the classes he was student teaching for, but even so, the not-swearing part of the job was giving Kyle more difficulty than he'd expected. Too many years using "fuck" as every path of speech.  "And dude, you remember my math grades? Those C minuses were only because of like tons of studying. I'll help but like I told Miz Frost, not sure how much help I'd be."

Scott raised an eyebrow at Kyle in surprise, "Yeah, that probably wouldn't be setting the best example to the kids. Still you'll get used to it eventually." He smiled at the younger man, "Well you could set a good example to the students you know, the benefits of studying hard. It'd play more to your strengths, you're too young and cool to lecture at them. You'd probably be more comfortable helping out with Adrienne's classes anyway, More's the shame."

Kyle laughed.  "Yeah, young and cool right up until you remember that Layla calls me Fail Yoda, and the kids at the DX school think that anyone over twenty is ancient." He scratched at his head and shrugged. "But yeah, my mentor teacher says I've got a knack for explaining things to the kids on their own terms, and hey, I got twenty kids to decide that Shakespearean plays were kind of badass if you read the right ones. Course, then they told me Hamlet was an emo..."

"But Hamlet is an emo," Scott pointed out, "so is Macbeth, now I think about it." He shook his head, "I'm so glad I teach science, simple facts; no-one can say an explosion is anything but cool." Scott shot Kyle a grin, "Welcome to the wonderful world of teaching," he intoned solemnly, "you think you're cool but your students always disagree. Layla probably isn't making things easy on you, but then atleast you don't have to labor under the moniker of Vibrasocket. You know what, maybe it's a good thing she isn't in my class. I wouldn't want to ruin my tough teacher reputation by bursting out laughing everytime she spoke."

"Oh, I know I'm not cool anymore." Kyle noted. "I get up at 4:45 to jog, I do volunteer work and I've been seen driving a station wagon." Only on days when the weather was really bad though, otherwise it was so the motorcycle.  "And my girlfriend's basically queen of the mutant nerd people, and I think it's contagious. I actually watch that Game of Thrones show with her."

"A station wagon?" Scott shuddered. "It's worse than I thought." Scott wouldn't be seen dead driving a station wagon and was so glad that he had never been asked to drive the bus to ferry people into town. "How is Doreen?" Scott asked curiously, "I haven't seen her around in a while. I did hear good things about that show, or well a lot shows but," he gestured back at the mansion, "I don't really ever have the time to sit down and enjoy them."

Kyle shrugged.  "She's good. College's kinda keeping her busy as hell, but that's not really like, a bad thing. She's seriously into her writing classes. And aw, don't diss the station wagon. I think it's the only reason I don't have speeding tickets. Cops look at it and just don't -see- a guy with funky ears and no shoes doing seventy on the highway because he's late for class, they just see a eighty year old grandpa."  He patted the hood of the car and grinned. "It's your fault I drive it. You're the one who told me it wouldn't get me pulled over for driving-while-mutated."

"Well I didn't want to mention anything," Scott replied with a wicked grin, "but you are starting to show your age now. Is that a grey hair I see?" he asked nodding at Kyle's head. "Well, I love it when a plan comes together. I'm glad it's kept you out of trouble," he stopped and corrected himself, "well kept you out of getting a speeding ticket. You have so many other ways to get in trouble. Although, you really shouldn't be running late for class," the older man noted, "you're supposed to be setting an example for the impressionable younger generation," he teased.

"Grey hair my ass. Logan doesn't even have grey hair." Kyle didn't even look. He knew better. Slowed aging'd already been more or less confirmed for him, Doc Moira had said something about it being bloody unfair.  "And yeah, yeah, handle my time better. It'd be easier if someone didn't keep giving me 6am Danger Room slots. Just because I'm awake doesn't mean I -want- them."  He griped.

"Well someone has to have them," Scott pointed out, "if not you I'd have to give them to someone else. Besides, what better way to start your day than a nice invigorating Danger Room session. Get the blood pumping and the adrenaline flowing. If you want I'm sure we could move around your training sessions. I think the midnight slot is open," he smiled at Kyle with the trademark Summers evil grin. "Regeneration is a useful trick," he agreed, "must be nice not to have to worry about grey hairs."

"Helps with growing back my fingers and toes too." Kyle agreed. "And teeth, and ear, and you know, sixty five percent of my skin. Little stuff like that."  Healing burns sucked, he couldn't help grimacing at the memories, and that was not including the parts he'd been in a coma for. "I'm just saying, you're turning me all responsible and crap."

"Always a helpful bonus," Scott replied his hand rubbing his false eye. "Although it might be better not to let yourself lose your fingers and toes in the future. I imagine it's not a pleasant experience, even if you can grow them back later." For a moment Scott too was lost in his own memories, remembering the Molotov cocktail flying towards him. He shook his head pushing away the melancholy thoughts; he'd had a lot of practice with that recently. "You say that like it's a bad thing Kyle. You've always been dependable, you're just starting to realize it now."

"Dude, ask Sam or Miss Munroe about how reliable I was for my first year here, I bet they'll tell you a whole 'nother story about me and forgetting homework and cutting class."  He grinned widely. "Or ring up Haroun and ask him about that time Jay and I beat each other with chairs."  Fond memories now, though. "And believe me, I'm not looking to cut off my fingers anytime, you know, -ever- again." Kyle waved one set of fingers as a sort of puncutation.  "It hurt, it stunk and then it itched non-stop for two weeks."

"Hmmm, at least you were dependably unreliable," Scott pointed out. "In my experience no kid is really reliable when they're still young. Everyone has to get the 'wild child' out of their system." Scott smiled at Kyle, "You and Jay really beat each other up with chairs? Why?" he paused for a moment. "No wait, I don't really wanna know do I." He stared at Kyle's outstretched fingers, "Or at least not without a good cause."

"Oh, I'm sure it's in my school records somewhere. Doc Jean might have it in our medical records, since we were bruised up a little bit." Kyle said.  "and dude, no ragging on the code name. It works for me, and it doesn't tell anyone what I do. Totally fits. And at least I'm not Marius." Because giving Marius grief for his 'I broke the database" codename was always good times, even if it was second-hand grief.

"But you're hardly a child now are you?" Scott asked with a smile playing across his lips, "Perhaps we should rechristen you wild-man, or Tarzan." He looked at Kyle speculatively, "How do you feel about wearing a loincloth and swinging from vines?" he teased the younger man. "No-body is as bad as Marius," Scott agreed, "how do you manage to crash the mansion computers?" he asked in disbelief. "I am never letting him get anywhere near the Blackbird controls" he joked.

"Pretty sure that's next year's Halloween costume. I'm gonna get Dori to go all Disney's version of Jane, I can totally rock out some dreadlocks."  Kyle said, with absolute sincerity. "But I'm not changing my code name. I mean, Wildman? no. Lame. I'm just gonna own having a ridic code name from when I thought being a pro wrestler was the coolest shit ever."  He scratched the back of his  neck a bit and laughed.  "Sides, way better than the first draft. I spent like half of thirteen watching reruns of Captain Planet and I was gonna be Wild Heart when I was a famous wrestler."

"Pro-wrestling and Captain Planet?" Scott echoed quirking an eyebrow in amusement, "That would have been an...interesting mix. Although Wild Heart? Really?" He thought about telling Kyle about Vance, but decided to keep a secret for now, if only too see the look on Kyle's face when he found out. "I'll look forward to seeing you break out the dreadlocks for Halloween then. Not everyone can pull that look off, or the loincloth for that matter."

Kyle laughed.  "I was thirteen. I thought The Rock was my personal hero and I wanted to be Chris Jericho when I grew up. He was like Lion Hearted Chris Jericho or something and I thought he was the coolest guy in the entire world."  He shook his head, laughing more.  "I repeat, I was thirteeen."  Then he raked both hands through his hair and pulled some in front of his eyes to look at it, and as he did, got a good look at the amount of hair on the backs of his hands. "I might not rock the loincloth. Might have to do the suit. I am so not shaving. The ridic goatee this year was bad enough."

"Tarzan without a loincloth? It just wouldn't be the same." Scott replied with a grin. "Well we all had interesting dreams when we were younger, still it doesn't mean that you can't follow them when you grow up. Within reason ofcourse." He continued with a laugh. "The Rock is certainly...impressive. But you could take him. I wanted to be a pilot like my dad when I was thirteen," he confided to the younger man. "Now, well being a pirate never was high on my list of possible careers. I always pictured myself as the one bringing the evil pirates their just desserts."

"And now you're a pilot and have taken down evil pirates."  Kyle noted.  "So, pretty much living up to the plans you made when you were stupid and thirteen. That totally bodes well for my non-existent WWE career, yo."  He flexed a bicep and then cracked up laughing.  "And yeah, no loincloth. Dude, you've seen me in shorts. Not getting mostly nekkid for Halloween. Sides, it'd be indecent or something."  Not that he really cared, but he did have to sort of pretend to maybe act like an adult to actually keep the possibility of a teaching job open.

"Well yeah," Scott replied with a a grin, "Join the X-men and live your dreams. See the world. fight pirates and rescue fair damsels, or not so fair wild children," He joked with a smile. "I can just see you now, up in the ring wearing one of those Mexican wrestling masks." He turned to look at Kyle, "Well Halloween is supposed to be a time to scare people isn't it?” he asked tossing a quick grin at the younger man.

"Hey!" Kyle said, with a laugh.  "I am not -that- hairy. Sides, you know, I show up for a party in nothing but a loin cloth and then the Professor's got me in his office drinking tea and giving me the stern face and the "Mister Gibney" lecture and man, can't we just like, say I was done those the last time I hit Jay with a chair?"

"You're never done with those talks," Scott pointed out. "The cup of tea talk is one of the most feared weapon's in Charles' arsenal. Strangely it never seems to work for me. I wonder how he does it," Scott mused before turning back to Kyle. "Whoever said I was talking about your hair?" he asked with a grin, "Besides you've got nothing on Logan, now he is seriously hairy."

"I think you're like, used to them. I mean, dude, the man's been giving you tea since you were like fourteen. It's like ... you know, how I'm used to Marius talking like an alien."  Kyle said.  "I'm still gonna go with the suit if I do Tarzan. The dreads'll be bad enough. At least my hair grows fast."

"You never get used to the talks," Scott replied with a grin. "Doesn't Disney's Jane have a dad? Perhaps that's something for you to get the professor to dress up as. You know during your next teatime."

"Yeah, you know, I think I'm gonna just go suit up and get shot at by drones because that's less scary.. I mean, since someone and I won't name any wait, no, it was you,  gave me double Danger Room sessions lately anyway."  Kyle's grin said more than his words did about how much he actually liked the Danger Room, despite the complaining.   "Rubber bullets I can get used to."