Hank, Scott

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Hank and Scott have a quiet word, after the fighting is over.. Hank assures Scott that Carter's medication is back under control, Scott comments on the coincidence of their first mission since his 'return' being a medical one... and somehow they get onto the topic of officially sanctioned wedgies.



Hank leaned out into the hall, and smiled. Scott was standing there, and if Hank knew him, he was having a very quiet little pout over his hurt pride. "The problem with Carter's medication has been resolved," he said cheerfully. "And I was most definite in my orders NOT to tamper with it again without an expert in mutant physiology on hand. The littlest things can affect the way a medication is absorbed... or not."

"Good job," Scott said, relieved. "Bad enough his own damned powers gave him manic depression. He doesn't need his doctors experimenting on him and driving him into a psychotic break."

"Exactly. I was, I assure you, extremely clear on that point." Hank sighed, rubbing the back of his head with a weary hand. It'd been a long argument. "I may be 'only' an MD, but I have studied both psychology and mutant physiology, the latter to a far greater extent than anyone else in that room."

Scott nodded, leaning back against the wall and taking a deep breath. "All right, then," he said. "The others were helping clear the debris from Carter's uh, abrupt exit. We should go collect them and head back, I suppose."

"Of course." Hank nodded. "How's your shoulder, by the way? I'll want to look at it when we get back."

"You gave it a once-over already," Scott complained mildly, pushing away from the wall. "Don't fuss." They headed off to where he'd left the others, and Scott glanced sideways at Hank, smiling a little. "So. Good to be back in the saddle? I still can't quite believe we got a medical mission of mercy for your first time back out..."

"I take it as a sign from whatever Powers there may be that I'm pursuing the right course," Hank said cheerfully. "Since coincidence is a sad, warped little creature when it comes to us, and rarely to be counted on to actually *be* coincidence, I have decided to believe that it's fate."

"Hank, that's positively fatalistic of you," Scott said with a chuckle. "In the good way, of course." He grinned suddenly. "You were very fast with that sedative, by the way. You and Maddie should have a contest."

Hank laughed. "Are you volunteering to be a guinea-pig?" He grinned. "We could each have a victim, a needle, and one minute in which to make the sedation.... scoring points not only for speed, but for style and use of distraction techniques. And a points bonus if you make the tricky but traditional buttock-shot."

"She shot Alison in the butt, did she tell you that? I don't think Ali's ever going to let her live it down, either." Scott snorted. "Maddie was a little tranq-happy that week. I'd say it was entertaining, but I was asleep for most of it." He pursed his lips as they headed down a flight of stairs. "I thought Sam did well," he said. "Jumping in like that when I hit the ground... fairly smooth assumption of tactical control for someone who's just getting back into the swing of things, too."

"He has good instincts," Hank said approvingly. "And he reacts quickly, although given how many siblings he has, I imagine he learned that very early in life indeed. I know that my reaction time speeded up considerably when I started dealing with students on a regular basis."

"Make sure you tell him that yourself," Scott said, his lips twitching. "High praise from the old man, indeed..."

"Old man indeed," Hank muttered, putting his nose in the air and making an offended face. "I could still trounce YOU in the Danger Room, junior. And there's been a rash of wedgies lately, and it might just be my solemn duty to include you in it."

"Oh-ho," Scott said, with a mock-surprised look. "That a challenge, you who wanted less DR time? I knew you'd succumb eventually. All part of my fiendish plan."

"I didn't say less DR time, I said less straight combat time... I do need to practice for what I'll actually be doing on most missions, after all." Hank grinned. "And it is indeed a challenge... once your shoulder's fully recovered, we shall have at it." And he would cheat outrageously... he knew all the places that Scott was ticklish, for a start. He might not win, but out of practice or not, he could at least put up a good fight.

"Hmm," Scott mused. "Interesting strategy. He who wins the scenario gets to give the loser a wedgie. I wonder if that would work as incentive with some of our more volatile pairs."

"Actually, I was thinking that the giving of a wedgie would be the ultimate goal for both sides... whoever does it first wins." Hank grinned. "And you know, I think I would pay money to watch a session in which Nathan and young Shiro spar with intent to grab one another's underwear..."

"Hank." Scott shook his head helplessly, chuckling. "The wrong interpretations that could be placed on something like that... can you imagine? And we have enough twisted-minded students that they would never, never let us forget it, either."

Hank snickered. "They already know I like to freak them out, it wouldn't surprise them." He grinned. "Besides. Combat training with a little less 'you're dead' and a little more 'your underpants are now pulled up over your head' would help them relax and get into it without worrying so much."

"Strange, strange man," Scott told him very sincerely. "Remind me to let you at the training rotations one of these days. You could mix things up very entertainingly."

Hank grinned evilly. "And there would be a new program introduced. I will call it... WEDGIE-CIZE. A good, non-fatal vent for those little conflicts that crop up. And for the ladies, perhaps a bra-strap-snapping alternative?"

"Insane, suicidal man," Scott amended.

Hank snickered. "Man with a somewhat puerile sense of humour, at least," he admitted ."By the way, should you ever have reason to carry Madelyn about over your shoulder, be careful... she's quite capable of pulling hard enough to yank *my* feet out from under me."

Scott smiled, just a little. "No, I'll leave the carting about of Madelyn to you," he said.

Hank grinned. "And *such* a hardship it is..." he said mournfully. "Still. Do you think it bothers her that I've rather supplanted her as the team doctor?" he asked a little anxiously. "I know she did well at it while I was gone, and it may be difficult to her to be sent back, as it were, to sit in the medlab and twiddle her thumbs in a ladylike fashion while I, the big tough male, gets to do all the adventuring. It seems like the sort of thing that might irritate her."

"Maddie knows she's still needed," Scott said firmly. "She also knows you have advantages she doesn't in the field."

Hank gave him an amused look. "And that has what, if anything, to do with the fact that being replaced by a *male* is probably going to irritate the heck out of her? You know tough, independent women, Scott... you're certainly drawn to them. They tend not to appreciate having their job taken away and given to someone male, just because he's bigger and stronger than they are.... and I cant' blame them."

"Maybe the emotions are there," Scott conceded with a faint smile, "but you also have to give her credit for the ability to see the logic of your role and her role, and overcome them. Though it does give you credit that you're concerned about her feelings."

"I was just wondering if she'd mentioned it to you." Hank shrugged. "Madelyn is a beautiful, intelligent, gifted young woman, but she's prone to undervaluing herself. If she is bothered by it, I should probably talk to her about it... on the other hand, if she's not, she might think I was being patronizing by assuming that she can't see the logic to the situation... which I'm not, but I'm also aware that feelings arent' always logical." He sighed. "It's a dilemma."

There were a number of things Scott could have said to that, but most of them would have involved hinting at things that Hank would probably enjoy, or at least be better served by finding out himself. "Talk to her about it," he suggested. "It's enough that it's bothering you that it could be bothering her. Even if it isn't - " Okay, now he was losing himself. " - she'll appreciate that you came to her."

Hank nodded. "Perhaps I will. I certainly don't want her to think that I... or anyone... thinks she's less competent than I am. She's just... well..." He gestured. "A great deal smaller. As are most people." He grinned reminiscently. "I recall carrying youout of danger tucked under my arm a couple of times... undignified, but quick. Something Madelyn would have some trouble with, tough though she is."

"Very hard on the dignity," Scott said, glancing ahead of them as he heard Lorna's voice. "You know, I think I will let Sam fly us home. He earned some play-time."

"And has two fully functional arms," Hank added teasingly. "Although of course you're stoic enough to handle flying as you are. With broken limbs, even."

"You know me too well," Scott said with a smile, then poked his head in the door as they reached it. "All right, you three. All aboard - we're heading home."