Scott's very wild Tuesday night...

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

Scott in New York. Pool, barfights, and calls to Alison for bail money. Yes, really.



Perfect, Scott thought with relish as he came through the door. He had been looking for the seediest pool hall he could find, and while this didn't quite fit the totality of his mental image, it was a pretty good approximation. And he didn't want to be driving around on the bike all night just because he was a perfectionist.

The girl leaning at the counter, with the too short skirt and the too tight top looked bored out of her skull. Scott's entrance drew her attention within a heartbeat however and she kicked the man slouched on the stool next to her viciously before quickly moving away and out of sight. With a low curse the man looked into the mirror to see who was the pidgeon his sweet little Molly has spotted. And raised an eyebrow, hiding a wicked grin. Oh yeah, this would be a good mark. He drained the dregs of his beer in one go and hitched up his belt as he stood up, giving Molly the all clear signal at the same time. Tonight would be a good night after all.

With a smirk and a saunter, Molly headed towards one of the tables, making certain her path crossed with Scott's. The plan was simple - she played the marks, setting them up to lose. She was that good. If, by some miracle of nature they beat her, she claimed they got frisky with her and Digger took care of the rest. If they were sore losers, same routine. It was a great con, really.

Here we go, Scott thought delightedly, keeping an innocent, curious look on his face as he bumped into the girl. "Oh, sorry there," he said sheepishly. He did sheepish very, very well. "Crowded in here tonight, isn't it?"

"Aw, shucks!" Molly fluttered, blushing slightly. "Most folks here nevah even bother apologizin'! Don't you worry none 'bout it now," she beamed up at him, leaning forward ever so slightly and patting his chest gently. "This here's a good night, it is. Though there ain't many people at the tables who'll play with little ole me," she sighed, looking terribly sad.

Scott gave her his best boyishly charming smile. "Well, I still feel bad," he said with a laugh. "Nearly running over you like that... I was just looking for a place to grab a beer, but I could probably manage a game of pool, too."

"Gosh!" Molly bounced a bit, the very picture of bosomy delight. "Tell you what! Ah'll spring for th' beer if you'll play a game or two with me?" She gazed up at him hopefully, voice just that touch a side too warm. "Ah'd really enjoy that."

To the side, Digger watched events unfold, stretching his legs out under the table he'd chosen a moment earlier, waving at the bartender for another beer. Molly had them eating out of her hand every single time. Beauty to watch.

"Well, who am I to pass up an offer like that?" Scott said, looking charmed. "Guess I picked the right bar to wander into, didn't I?"

"Well, not hardly," she drawled, "on account of ole Bob there cutting the beer with water on the newcomers. But that's all right. I'll make sure everything is just swell!" she chirped perkily, waving him towards one of the tables. "Why don't you go get set up and ah'll be back in a jiffy!"

"I'll see what I can do," Scott said amiably. She looked back over her shoulder at him as she headed off towards the bar, and he made sure he was giving her ass an appreciative look when she did. Had to keep up the act, after all.

Amusingly, one of the tables was indeed vacant. Unlikely, given how crowded the bar was, so he suspected he had found precisely the person he had needed to find to have the best sort of fun.

Molly returned in no time at all, bouncily lugging about a pitcher of beer and two tankards which she sets on a nearby table with aplomb, not at all bending over just a bit too much in the process. Never that. She poured them out with a flourish and offered one to Scott, smiling brightly at him. "To new friends! Which means you'd be callin' me Molly, now," she added with a shy smile.

"Molly's a pretty name," Scott said, giving her a grin that bordered on a leer as he looked her up and down. "I'm Scott, Molly. You ready to have some fun?"

Hooked - bait, line and sinker. Digger chuckled to himself and shifted to better enjoy the show, even as Molly smiled brightly at her pigeon and reached for a pool cue.

"Let the games begin," he toasted the two players from afar, careful not to draw their attention, before slugging down the beer with a grunt of satisfaction.

---

The money on the table was not on the right side of the table. Molly tried to smile at her mark but clearly something had Gone Wrong. Very wrong. A nervous look towards Digger revealed to her that this was the 'someone being beaten up soon just because' kind wrong and Molly felt a touch bad about it, even though she could tell that Scott had played her big time.

Scott could almost feel sorry for her. But only almost. He sank the last ball, then straightened, smiling brightly at her. "Well, shoot. I win again. How about that?"

"Fancy that," she agreed, shifting her weight nervously although she tried to hide it behind another bright smile. There went the last of the money. From the corner of her eyes she could see Digger get to his feet and head towards them slowly, the large man shoving a few of the patrons out of his way - the few who turned to actually contest the treatment prudently sidled away when confronted with the man's sheer size.

Scott held on the pool cue, even as he pocketed the money. "Well, Molly," he said more briskly, dropping the act. "It's been a pleasure. But I think your partner wants a word with me right now." He gazed steadily at the advancing Digger, a small smile playing on his lips. "Nothing worse," he said pleasantly, "than a sore loser."

Molly slid away without a single word - there was only so much sympathy she was going to feel for a mark and really, he'd stolen all her money! Digger didn't even bother with the usual pretense. The pigeon was annoying him - a lot - and his beer money was in the man's pocket and he was getting it back. And then some.

Big, strong, and slow as the proverbial sloth. Scott let the man swing wildly a couple of times, overextending himself and ramping his frustration level a few notches higher. "Come on," he said mockingly, staying out of range. "You're not even trying. Shouldn't I be on the ground spitting out my teeth and asking you to please take your money back?

A faint rumble escaped Digger at that one and he took a deep breath, gritting his teeth. The little pipsqueak was just like all the others. Underestimating him. He grinned slowly, relishing what was to come - and then reached out, arm almost blurring out to clap a hand on the other man's shoulder and then yanked.

Well, shit, Scott thought, managing to move with the pull so the man didn't - quite - pull his shoulder out of its socket. Mutant. Had to be. Gritting his teeth, Scott broke his grip and landed a quick flurry of blows, meant to get him to back off a couple of steps as opposed to put him on the ground.

Silence reigned around them for a moment, the regulars of the dive staring in shock. With a faint whuff, Digger rocked back on his heels. He'd actually felt that. Damn! He grinned widely, bunching up his hands in fists, and spat to the side cheerfully. "Ooh, this is gonna be fun, little man."

Scott grinned fiercely at him, flexing the arm. Definitely some damage there. Ah, well. "You have no idea," he said with a certain amount of glee. He moved in fast, passing up the obvious openings in favor of just landing hits.

Digger couldn't change locations all that quickly - but he was still far too fast for a man his girth and height - and had a disturbing tendency to take the hits very well, lashing out less often but with devastating results if the way the pool table crumbled behind him as he dodge a punch was any sign. "Runt, I'm just the baddest thing you'll find herebouts," he grinned, taking careful aim once more.

"Good thing I'm not from around here, then, isn't it?"

---

With a grumble of frustration Alison padded down the hallway. Sleep? Not happening. She was thinking too much and she wasn't going to think of that even though it had been nice and she was being entirely too distracted by this. The phone ringing brought her to a stop however, and she blinked, staring down at the unit. And answered.

"Bloomingdales, lingerie department. Silk that survives hail, frost and fire!"

There was a pause, long enough to let her hear the sound of voices off in the distance at the other end, and then a familar rueful laugh. "Alison," Scott said, his tone an odd combination of drifty and cheerful. "Just my luck...."

"...hi, Scott." She answered a bit bemusedly. It didn't seem to be joy to see her from his words, though his tone of voice didn't seem too upset. "Having fun?" Alison decided to keep a conversational tone of voice - if nothing else, Scott was not doing evaluations or grading or training. That was good. Very good.

"Oh, tons. Really." A strange-sounding laugh, as if he'd laughed and then winced, or caught his breath. "Say, you wouldn't want to come pick me up, would you? With bail money?"

Go and pick you up with what? She gaped at the phone for a moment, stunned. Then started laughing. "You are kidding me? No, wait, you're not," she chuckled over the line, shaking her head. "Can I borrow your car to come pick you up?" she bargained without shame. "And I get to drive on the way back?" On anyone else she'd call it taking vengeance, but Scott was one of the few who didn't mind how she drove.

"You can borrow my car," he told her, sounding groggily gleeful. "And driving... yeah, I'd think you'd better drive. You'll know why when you see me. Trust me to pick a fight with another mutant pool hustler. But it was fun! And he looks worse."

"Fun, huh? Riiiight. Where are you exactly and how do I get there?" she grinned at the phone, shaking her head. And made a mental note to keep him away from his computer once they got back. "And how much will I need to bring to bail you out?"

He gave her quick directions to the police station. "Couple of hundred dollars, I think," he said, thinking very hard. "They were saying something about... what was it... disorderly conduct. I was all polite to the nice officer, so I think he decided to go easy on me..."

"Good grief, did you bring the bar down on their ears?" she asked, although the amusement was very much present. "I thought bringing down places like that was my gig?" She couldn't help it, laughter escaping her for a moment. "Ok, I'm heading down. In your car. After getting some money. I'll be there before you know it," she beamed at the phone, a bit gleefully. His car was fast. Very fast. Fast!

---

The way Alison's eyes widened at the sight of him was oddly satisfying, Scott thought, giving her as wide a smile as he could manage. His jaw had stopped being numb a little while ago and had proceeded to start hurting quite a bit. That and the ribs were probably the worst of it. Digger and he had gone on for quite a while before the owner had thought to call the police. Mostly because the property damage had been adding up a little too quickly, Scott suspected.

"Hi," he said brightly.

"You did have fun," she said, eyes still a bit wide - not her idea of fun, but Scott looked more relaxed than she'd seen him in ages. She whirled around to smile sweetly at the officer tailing her closely, waving the release paper proving the bail had been paid under the man's nose. "Hi! Mine now! I can take him home and fix him up, right?"

"Sure thing, miss," the officer, an older man, said amiably enough, then gave Scott a stern look. "And you stay out of trouble, son. I don't know what you thought you were doing tonight, but if that crowd had ganged up on you, you'd've been in trouble."

"Good advice," Scott affirmed cheerfully. "Staying out of trouble... definitely a good thing." The officer shook his head, looking vaguely amused, and headed off in the other direction. Scott looked down at Alison. "I was very polite," he informed her loftily. "Sergeant Anderson appreciates people with manners."

"And he's a very nice man," Alison agreed, lips quirking a bit as she debated reaching over to take his arm lightly or just letting him lead the way out. "Now, do you want to head on back home?" she asked, trying to keep a straight face. And to think - no blackmail possibilities here. Ever. How very sad a thought that was.

"Home is good," Scott said, tottering a little as he headed for the exit. He stopped dead, suddenly, and pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket. "Here," he said, counting out the same amount she'd paid for the bail and handing it off. "You know, I really don't get why they didn't just let me pay it, but oh, well... you get to drive my car, right?"

She took the money, shrugging as she put it away in her purse. "It's just money, Scott, no big deal. Oh, wait a minute." She leaned over to speak to one of the officers to have Scott's bike set aside in lock up safely, for pick up on the next day. That done, she led him outside, wincing at the way the bruise was already developing on his - well, his face.

"I get to drive your car." Carefully, she added to herself. With the windows down.

"I'm not drunk," he informed her as they went through the doors and out into the cool night air. "Digger... did I mention Digger? Just bounced my head off the pool table a couple of times. We're all good now, though. Shook hands and made up back in the holding cell... and hey, he didn't even break my glasses."

Off a pool table? Ow. OW! "I'm glad the two of you solved your differences," she murmured. "well, you can come say hi to Digger when you come claim your bike tomorrow morning." She handed him the claim stub carefully. "Put that in your pocket, mm?"

Scott did, a bit clumsily as he switched it to his good hand from his less-good hand. "He does look worse than I do," he insisted as they reached the car. Alison opened the passenger-side door for him and he half-fell in, struggling with the seatbelt. "So," he said mock-gravely once he was settled and she had gotten in. "Better this time, no?"

Alison leaned over, not quite nose to nose with him (because eugh, baad breath). "I'm glad I picked up the call," she beamed at him. "And if you feel good about it, then what have I got to say?" She chuckled, tapping the tip of his nose lightly before settling back in her seat, turning on the engine with a look of pure satisfaction. "Pretty, pretty car..."

"Molly was kind of cute, too," Scott said thoughtfully as she pulled away from the curb. "Not subtle. But not a bad pool player." He winced, a hand going lightly to his side. "Ow. I'm going to feel like crap in the morning."

"Long bath if you're conscious enough to not drown yourself when we get in. Hard to go through when you want to just roll over and die, but you'll appreciate it in the morning." There was a note of absolute knowing in her voice as she said that, revving the engine once before not peeling off and instead sagely nudging the car forward and onto the road.

The car seat was very comfortable. He liked his car. "Ali," he said after a moment, his eyes closed behind his glasses. "I enjoyed that a little too much, I think..."

She smiled a little at the admission, driving in a way few people had ever seen or remembered - likely because they'd been drunk at the time. "That's probably because you needed to let loose so badly," she answered, eyes flicking to look at him before focusing on the road again.

"Just... uncomplicated, you know. Suppose I could've gotten the same basic thing in the Danger Room, but to hell with it." Feeling oddly restless, he shifted in the seat, wincing again. "Tired of faking it," he muttered.

"Aren't we all," she couldn't help but murmur, smile fading. After a moment of silence, she offered him a crooked grin and a brief glance. "Tell you what. I'll bail you out anytime."

"Well," Scott said with a laugh that hurt his ribs, "don't plan on making a habit of this, let me tell you. But thanks. And you can drive my car anytime you come to bail me out."

There was a pause and then Alison slid him a sidelong look. "Only when I come to bail you out?" she asked in a small, innocent voice, as though plotting a way to make him ask for her to bail him out more often.

"Maybe other times," Scott said after a moment, upon due reflection and all that. "Why not... it's not like I drive my car much lately. She might as well be out enjoying the roads as opposed to sitting in the garage." He leaned over and patted Alison's knee. "And you'll take good care of her. She likes you."

"I like her," was the instant response, no sign at all of finding it off that the car was being assigned a gender. The engine purred as Alison upped the speed a tiny bit, although she was far from her usual driving habits. "Why don't you lean the seat back and sleep a bit? I'll wake you up when we get there."

"Mmm... sounds like a plan." Scott got the seat to recline and sighed, relaxing again. "Thanks, Ali," he murmured after a moment, closing his eyes again."

"That's what friends are for," she hummed lowly, smiling a bit and keeping her eyes on the road as they headed back home.