xp_logs | Miles, Bobby, & Angel, backdated to September 16

Angels proves that Miles and Bobby aren't as clever as they think they are.

When Miles first manifested his mutant power to blend into his surroundings, the most he'd considered doing was sneaking into his parents' closet to find out what Christmas presents they were hiding from him. Now, about four years later, it proved itself useful for nicking half-consumed boozy drinks. It was like New Years all over again, except this time, he wasn't going to get caught by Warren.

A pair of martini glasses vanished from a table, and reappeared a few seconds later along with their bearer over at the corner of the party, out of sight of adults who didn't seem to care much, anyway. Miles grinned as he handed one of the s'mores-tinis to Bobby and sipped his.

"Oh my God, it is actually like s'mores!" he exclaimed in joyful surprise.

Bobby took the proffered glass, lifting it to his nose while Miles took a sip of his own. "They smell pretty good too, hmm." He touched the side of his glass with his other hand, chilling it just so, then reached out and did the same to Miles' glass before tasting it.

"Yeah, no, wow. This is some good shit." He grinned and licked his lips. "Good job, m'man. After this you're totally going to have to get us... s'more."

Miles was willing to let that one pass, although the weary look on his face suggested he was struggling to do so. "I didn't know you could even make alcohol taste like this," he said, turning his attention back to his drink. What have adults been hiding from us all this time?"

"Right? This right here is the bomb, yo," Bobby agreed, even though he really didn't have much of a basis on which to judge alcohol. "I bet I could drink, like, twenty of these and not get drunk. You know what? Let's do it, come on."

"Unless you've recently added 'superhuman tolerance' to your list of impressive mutations, twenty might kill you," a dry, slightly voice spoke up. Angel probably wouldn't have noticed the boys, if it hadn't been her glass Miles had swiped. Now that was just rude.

So that nagging in Miles's head had been his spider sense demanding attention, not some side effect of the drink. Crap. He turned around slowly, almost cartoonishly, to meet the advisor's chastisement. "Weeeeelll, I mean, maybe? It's probably part of my spider powers . . ." Though he knew that wasn't true, given how few drinks it had taken him to go over the edge at the school party a few months ago.

"Psssht, yeah, totally," Bobby chimed in, standing up and sloppily slinging one arm around Miles' neck, his own drink sloshing and spilling a little in his other hand. "An' me, well, I'm the Iceman. I'm, like, practically a drink myself." He swirled around his glass to emphasize his point, wasting more in the process. "I'm an, an... an long island iced bee, hah!" He giggled incessantly at the admittedly horrible pun, hugging Miles as he laughed and leaning into his shoulder.

"...You know, Bobby. I don't even know you're drunk." Angel smiled, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "I'm not going to give either of you hell for stealing my drink, even though you deserve it. Didn't anyone ever tell you not to take your mentor's drinks?" She tried to be stern and failed horribly, of course. Angel didn't do stern well unless it was an actual emergency. "Why don't you guys finish those off. No more, though."

Miles leaned his head on Bobby's, an adorable display of inebriated adolescent intimacy. He resisted the urge to jokingly plant a kiss on his roommate's forehead to make the image complete. "I don't think we covered this at any of the Gen X trainings," he said, responding to Angel's rhetorical question. "Fine, fine, no more stealing your s'mores. Mira, hay otras bebidas para robar."

Angel's knowledge of Spanish was extremely minimal, but she could guess at what the teenage boy surrounded by alcohol with the ability to walk around almost unseen was planning. "'Course, it'd be a shame if I had to tell someone who might care a little more about the underage drinking."

"Nonono," started Bobby, uncoupling from Miles and putting a finger up to his lips which took a couple of tries. "No shames, you don't wanna do that." He shook his head for emphasis, then turned to look at his roommate. "Right, Milesy? There's no reason to do that, we're all adults here. Kinda. Ish."

Miles sighed dramatically but nodded in tepid agreement. "Fine fine fine. Just don't tell Scott because I don't think I can take any more 5 AM 10k runs."

"Yes and also because these are delicious and I want to drink them again and, you know, not die and stuff." Bobby shuddered and shook his head. "I mean, because he would probably shatter me into like a bajillion pieces with his freaky eyes powers. Wait, eyes? Eye? How does that shit work again?" He mumbled to himself a bit more while taking another sip of deliciousness.

Angel laughed, well assured she had saved one or both of these boys from streaking across the lawn that night. "Have fun guys," she said as she went off to find her boyfriend and get another drink - not necessarily in that order.