Scott and Remy, Sunday evening

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

Scott finds Remy in the Danger Room. They have a mutually instructive exchange.



He was in the War Room going over more training tapes when an alarm went off and broke his concentration. Frowning, Scott got up and went over to the screen that was flashing red. "All right," he murmured with a frown, seeing the message. A few commands entered on that keyboard brought up the live feed from the Danger Room, and the frown turned into a scowl as he saw one Remy LeBeau, where he wasn't supposed to be, doing something that someone so recently out of the medlab certainly shouldn't be doing. "Great," he growled under his breath. "Now they're breaking into the Danger Room..." He paused for long enough to turn the feed to record before he headed out the door, donning a carefully neutral mask as he headed for the Danger Room.

Scott trotted down the hall and paused at the vaneer door to the Danger Room. He touched his fingertips to the access panel on the side, seeing the scratch marks at the edges. Someone had jimmyed open the panel to bypass the locks, which is what must have triggered the alarm. He stifled a huff of annoyance as he opened the door.

The room was bare, the holopoints on the wall still in standby mode. The only activity involved a set of targets moving back and forth against the far wall. In the centre of the room stood Lebeau, a table beside him holding a set of throwing knives. With steady progression, he would take a blade from the table, pause for a moment, and then let one fly. Scott watched three go by, each one slamming point-first into the x-zone of the targets.

"I suppose," Scott said coolly, figuring that the sound of the door opening was warning enough to LeBeau that someone had come in, "that your reasoning is something along the lines of 'Be glad I'm not using the wall upstairs'?"

"Non," Remy said without turning around. "Remy don' bother t' t'ink of an excuse." Another knife plunked directly into what would have been the nose of a person. Remy glanced down at the empty rack and waved his hand, and the knive case replenished itself. "Solid light holo-ponents. You got dey balance off."

Scott watched him pick up the first of the new batch and throw it. "If you were supposed to be down here," he said, adding that a) Remy had picked a high-security lock and b) knew a little too much about the technology of the Danger Room for a street kid to the ever-expanding list of why the young man obviously wasn't quite what he seemed, "I'd suggest tweaking the programming to solve the problem."

"You do dat." He threw the knife with a little more force than before. This one would have gutted the person who caught it. "But tweaking de programming? Dat not such a bad idea." Remy pushed his hand into the table, to the interface and made a few movements with his fingers. Scott supressed a stunned noise. The holo-interface of the Danger Room was not easy to use, and took most of the adults weeks to learn how to use. He looked up to see the blank targets replaced with cartoonish images of the X-Men. Remy winked at him. "T'ink dat makes it any better?"

"Not particularly. Unless you have a taste for the macabre." Scott went over to the interface on the wall and shut down the program entirely, locking down the Room with the codes only he and the Professor had. The next few training sessions could wait until this was sorted out.

"Guess I should have chosen de Brotherhood, oui?" Remy smirked, turning to face Scott and crossing his arms. "Dat's what dis whole training is 'bout."

"Look," Scott said calmly, turning back to him. "You're still on the mend, and we're not supposed to be causing you any additional stress. So if you're looking for an argument, go look somewhere else. Either way, wave to the nice Danger Room, because until the Professor tells me otherwise, this is the last time you'll see it."

"First time and last time. Hardly de welcoming type, homme." Remy shrugged eloquently. "Talk like dat, people goin' t'ink you de leader."

Scott hit the control for the door. "I leave the social niceties to the people who are better equipped for it." The constant, almost defensive needling was another interesting thing. This wasn't the usual lashing out he saw from some of the more poorly-adjusted kids, either. It was... targeted. Precise. Much like Remy's aim with the knives. "If you're looking for ways to get exercise, there are plenty of options. In the public areas of the mansion."

"Dat's true. Wonder if dat purple-haired femme is still 'round? She made quite de pitch t' get Remy here in de first place." His red on black eyes reflected in Scott's lenses. "Talk t' her 'bout de options. You know, for exercise." His smile grew insoucient.

Definitely knew, or thought he knew, precisely where to hit. Maybe it was the sleep-deprivation, Scott reflected, but he actually found this jab kind of amusing. "Well," he said dryly, "you could always ask. Can't vouch for the response you might get."

"You right 'bout dat, homme. Heard she like de English doctor types." Remy watched that one score. "Still, dere are others, I guess. De professor does well getting de young femmes in."

"Congratulations," Scott said, conceding the point with a thin smile. "You've established that you're willing to throw everything and the kitchen sink at me. Tell me, do you need me to sputter and or bluster before you let yourself walk through that door? My acting skills are pretty shitty, but I could probably manage something."

"You've ended my entertainment, homme." Remy said. "Only trying t' return de favour." He collected his coat and headed for the door. "Remy should thank you all. Before you all, I didn't know how t' t'row de blades. Now, I got de skills for it. Maybe even targets."
Scott's eyes narrowed a bit behind the glasses, and he filed that away, as well. He thinks we taught him? Yeah, those training tapes were definitely going to have to wait on a nice, long conversation with the Professor.

"Stay out of the Danger Room," he said quietly as the other man passed him. "And the rest of the restricted areas. I'm sure it would amuse you to no end to keep frustrating each new security measure, but we have better things to be doing with our time."

"Course you do, homme." Remy said, walking past the man. "Just go light on de tequila dis time. Don' want t' upset de femmes again." He pushed past and turned down the corridor, walking away from Scott.

Backreading the journals then, too. Gathering information - or should that be intelligence? Scott shook his head, making a few more adjustments to the lockdown on the Danger Room - including a message to the next scheduled users - before he left. This was all adding up into a picture he really didn't like. Definitely time to talk to the Professor. And maybe he should go haul Pete out of his office on the way by, too.