xp_logs | Hank, Madelyn, mid-morning Thursday

Madelyn takes revenge for her snowballing earlier... and Hank then has to take revenge for the excessive revenge. It all goes downhill from there.

It wasn't easy to sneak up on Hank. Except when he was deep in research. Grinning silently to herself, Madelyn stuck to the shadowed part of the hall, sneakered feet soundless. Carefully she dipped into the cooler bag she was carrying, coming up with a handful of frosty, fluffy snow, harvested not twenty minutes ago outside. Pausing to take aim at her quarry (and there was such a broad expanse of blue furry back to hit), she cocked her arm and let fly, immediately reaching into the bag again for a second handful for when he spun around.

Hank felt the impact before the cold... his fur was thick enough for that. So he jumped and yelped... and THEN the cold and wetness hit and he yelped, spinning around to see what it was. "What the-"

The exclamation was cut off by the second handful of snow, which hit him in the face.

There was just enough snow left for a third snowball, which went a little low and smacked him in the chest since by now she was laughing too much to aim straight. "Told you there would be snowy revenge, Hank," she taunted, still giggling. "I think we're even for the catapult now."

Hank wiped his eyes clear and glared. "Oh, you are in for it now, young lady," he growled, advancing towards her. "You got hit ONCE. I got hit THREE times, AND it takes fur a lot longer to dry than skin. Vengeance will be mine, I tell you." He lunged around the desk with large hands outstretched to grab.

She'd been expecting something like that and bolted up the hallway. "Gotta catch me first, slowpoke!" she called over her shoulder, glad that the medlab halls were fairly bare in terms of things Hank could swing from. Still, there were the stairs... she put on an extra burst of speed, hoping to get the advantage on the flat. He'd catch her, she was reasonably sure of that, but she was determined to make him work for it.

Hank pursued, laughing now himself. "You'll never get away! I will have my revenge!" he roared, following her around the first corner. She was fast, definitely... most people he'd have caught up within a few steps. But that wouldn't save her, no... he started using his hands as well as his feet, swinging along on four limbs instead of two and drawing closer as she headed for the stairs.

Okay, she'd only get one chance at this... She slowed marginally, letting Hank get almost within grabbing distance, and then dodged aside at the foot of the stairs. Hank hadn't expected it, instead using his greater agility to swing up onto the stair railing and cut her off. Which would have worked if she'd been going up the stairs - the elevator was not far away, and she made it by the barest of margins, the door closing in Hank's surprised face as she waved to him.

That elevator only went up, and Hank could move as fast as it could... just. He kept pace with it up the stairs... not the next floor, he hadn't expected her to get out there, but if he made it up to the next ahead of her...

He made it, just... and hit the 'up' arrow discreetely concealed behind a small panel. The door opened, and he made a lunge for it. "AHA!" She couldn't get away in that small space.... a moment later he had her slung over one shoulder, one hand wrapped around her ankles, the other holding her in place.... well, she HAD said he could grab her behind where a student might see it, and this certainly qualified. "Got you," he said smugly.

"That... wasn't... in question," she panted. She definitely was needing to get more exercise. And possibly less junk food. Not everyone had the mutant metabolism to their advantage. "So... now you've got me, what... are you going to do with me?"

Hank looked around. "Oh, would you look at that!" he said cheerfully. "The front door!" He headed for it, grinning. "I think somebody needs a little more snow in her life... and down her neck." Neither of them was dressed to be outside this time.... but they weren't going far. Just to the nearest place deep enough to bury her.

"Henry McCoy, don't you dare..." Madelyn warned, although she wasn't really in a position to do much more than wriggle helplessly. Well, her hands were free, but pounding Hank's back (which was wet and therefore somewhat wet-dog-smelling) would do little good besides make a complete cliche out of her. And yanking on the fur would be effective from a self-defence perspective, but rather nasty in this situation. She was seriously considering a wedgie when the cold air hit her as they left the house. "Come on, Hank, it was only a little bit of snow! Where's your sense of humour?" Teh wriggling became a little more pronounced.

"It's looking forward to seeing you in that snowdrift." Hank grinned evilly. He probably wouldn't actually throw her in, but maybe he'd just dip her in it a little... and the wiggling wasn't unpleasant, certainly. And the pounding on his back was fairly negligable. "Here we are! Would you prefer face up or face-"

Okay, desperate times took desperate measures... Grabbing the back of his shorts in both hands, she gave it a warning tug. "And how far would you prefer the wedgie, Doctor McCoy?" she asked, her own evil grin hidden by the fact her hair was obscuring pretty much her entire face.

"You wouldn't DARE!" he yelped, automatically trying to look down over his own shoulder. His nose impacted with her side - she smelled quite good, actually - his grip on her loosened... and presumably she thought he was going to drop her, because she pulled, he yelped and jumped, then his feet were sliding out from under him and....

At least, he thought, trying to pull his head out of the snow without putting too much weight on Maddie, who was about half underneath him, he'd picked a nice, deep, cushiony snowdrift... "Mmmplrrwph!" he said reproachfully, through a mouthful of snow.

Madelyn shrieked as they went over, the sound cut off by a combination of snow and fur. She couldn't help laughing, however, as he surfaced, face covered with snow, doing the Hank Puppy Eyes Of Doom. "You... you..." She couldn't finish, slumping back in the snowbank, laughing helplessly despite the snow working its way under her sweater and down the waistband of her jeans.

"I think," he said, trying to shake off some of the snow in his hair and on his face and grinning helplessly, "that it would be prudent to call the matter a draw." He managed to get one hand under him, so at least he wasn't squashing her, and carefully worked the other out from under her behind so that he could lever himself up. "Really, Madelyn... a wedgie? If you yearned so much to return the posterior-grabbing, you could have just asked."

"What can I say, I had an older brother - you learn all the dirty tricks," she replied through the giggles, trying to lever herself out of the snow which was rapidly melting underneath her. "I was a desperate woman, and hopelessly outgunned."

He got to his feet, and reached down to lift her to hers. She was surprisingly light... he sometimes forgot how strong he was now. "I will have you know I had no intention of dropping you," he said loftily, as they trudged back towards the house. "Well... not of letting go, anyway. Just dipping you in the snow a little."

"Well, I didn't know that," she pointed out, squirming around trying to shake snow out of her sweater and squealing a little as a bit of melting ice slid down the back of her jeans. "But I definitely think we're square now - and it was worth it, for that expression on your face as you turned around and got that snowball in the face.'

"Wench," Hank muttered, trying to brush the clinging snow out of his fur. "I'm going to have to shower and dry myself again now. If I let it dry by itself, it sticks up every which way." He looked reproachfully at her. "And since it's all your fault that I'm wet, you really ought to offer to wield the hairdryer for me," he added, grinning wickedly. "At least in the hard to reach spots..."

"But you're so cute when you're a mass of cowlicks!" Madelyn declared mischievously, but at another reproachful look patted his rather wet shoulder. "Fine, I'll drop by and help you out once I'm done showering myself - this mop of mine is bad enough without having full body coverage."

Hank blushed under the fur. "My bluff is suitably called," he said sheepishly, letting her go through the front door first. "As much as I dislike being wet, I wouldn't really use it as leverage to get you into the bathroom with me... as pleasant a thought as that might be." He followed her inside gratefully... snow and bare feet weren't a good mix!... and closed the door. "Besides, I built myself an extra-large wall-mounted hairdryer years ago, to facilitate the process. I'll be fine, really. But thank you." Could she tell he was blushing? He'd never actually looked in a mirror to see whether or not you could tell through the fur.

Madelyn couldn't see the blush, but she could hear it well enough - it wasn't often Henry McCoy struggled for words. "I was meaning once you had showered and dried off and were decent, Hank," she teased, glad for the warmth of inside although it meant the snow inside her clothes was melting all the faster and she was rapidly getting wet through. "Gah, how can something so fluffy and pretty-looking be so wet and cold?" she half-complained. "Hot shower for me as well, I think, before I freeze to death."

"I assumed so, but..." He grinned sheepishly. "Still. There's flirting, and then there's taking advantage, and I try to avoid the second." They headed for the elevator, her sneakers squishing and both of them leaving wet footprints. "Although I certainly think we settled that little snow-war. Mutual annihilation, in fact." He grinned down at her. "Once we're showered and dressed, would you care to conduct peace talks? I have some fudge, if you'll bring the hot chocolate."

"Hank, do you really think I'd let you take advantage if I didn't want you to?" she asked, tone still teasing but a hint of seriousness in her face. "I'm very big on the whole self-determination thing, remember." Patting his arm and wrinkling her nose at the wet-dog smell, she grinned. "Fudge sounds heavenly. And I have a new pack of those little marshmallows for chocolate - Jubilee and Clarice clean me out on a regular basis. See you in half an hour? Or do you need longer for your beauty treatment?"

"I know you wouldn't... it's one of the many things I admire about you." He patted her hand gently. "However, I still wouldn't want you to think I *wanted* to, if that makes sense. I tend to paint myself into a verbal corner now and then, and wind up saying something foolish for which I must apologize." He grinned. "And make it forty-five minutes... I have a lot of territory to cover, I fear."

"You don't want to take advantage?" Madelyn pouted at him briefly, before spoiling it by laughing merrily. "Forty-five minutes it is. And now I'm going to get out of these wet clothes before I end up as blue as you are." With a jaunty wave she headed for her suite, leaving little wet footprints behind her.

Hank grinned, watching her go. "I didn't say that, exactly," he murmured too quietly for her to hear... and then he shivered, and headed for his own room, and the extra-large shower it contained. Numb extremities were no fun at all.