xp_logs | Ensemble cast, Sunday morning (Reply)

A big bunch o' logs! Hank is well again, and there are lots of people to see and reassure... and they're all hugging him! He likes this trend, and hopes it continues.

***

Madelyn is waiting at Hank's bedside when he wakes up, anxious to be sure he's okay. He's very okay, and very happy to be back.

Hank stirred, opening his eyes drowsily. He wasn't in his own bed.... this one was less springy, and his arm was hanging off. He looked around. Medlab, of course... Really, they ought to do something about the place. All that whiteness and shining metal looked terribly efficient, but when one wasn't expecting it, it was a lot like waking up inside a kitchen appliance. Most disconcerting.

He'd thought the words 'most disconcerting'. Shakespeare had written 'To thine own self be true'. The value of pi had nothing to do with food. Schadenfreude was easy to spell. He beamed up at the ceiling, his throat tightening. He was okay! He was HIMSELF again!

And... there, curled up in a chair by his bed, was a lovely young woman who'd been taking very good care of him indeed. He smiled. "Maddie?" he said softly.

Madelyn's head jerked up. "I was just resting my eyes!" she protested automatically, having been poked and sent to bed so many times the past week she'd lost count. She was still wearing the slacks and suit jacket she'd worn yesterday, playing agent, although they were rumpled now from sleeping in them, and her hair was a tumbled mess of curls. Then she registered that Hank was awake, and... smiling? Smiling was good. "Hank?" she said, reaching for his hand without even thinking of it. "How're you feeling?"

He took her hand gently. "I feel," he said softly, "wonderful. Entirely like my old self again. Want me to spell something for you? Recite some poetry, perhaps? I even feel equal to a little light surgery... well, I will once I've had some food and coffee."

It had worked. The tests were saying it had, but she had wanted to be sure, and here was the proof, Hank talking the way he used to and joking and... For a moment Madelyn thought she was going to burst into rather unprofessional tears then and there, and settled for squeezing his hand tightly. "Welcome back, Doctor McCoy," she managed, voice a little strangled. "You had us worried there."

"I had ME worried, too." He sat up cautiously. Wow. Aside from a slight headache, which could probably be put down to caffiene-deprivation, he felt great. "It's good to BE back." He grinned, and drew the hand clasped in his up to kiss her fingers gently. "And it is, I believe, thanks in the greatest part to you. I owe you a great deal."

She blushed crimson, ducking her head slightly, whether from the gesture or the praise she wasn't quite sure. "I just did what I'm trained to do," she said, looking up again with a shy smile. "Followed the leads, drew conclusions, made some threats and watched Le Beau get thrown through a wall. Actually, I couldn't have done it without his help, as much as it galls me to say it."

"And I am very, very glad that you did. As fuzzy as I was, I knew you'd do whatever you could to save me." He didn't give up her hand, although he did lower it back to the edge of the bed. It was... nice... to be taken care of, as well as taking care of other people. That part, at least, hadn't been so bad. "And I'm doubly in your debt, not only for you saving me from a fate worse than death, but for you having to put up with Remy to do it."

"I'd put up with the entire Le Beau family reunion, if it meant getting you back to your old self," she said, stroking his arm a little, as if reassuring herself he was actually real. "And Hank? Your taste in women? Is terrible."

"Not always," Hank said, smiling, and not quite meeting her eyes in case she saw too much in his. "My trouble, you see, is that I'm so dreadfully susceptible... the good ones, the bad ones, they can all turn me to putty." He smiled ruefully. "Although Erica was an especially bad choice, even for me."

"And about as smart as a bag of hammers," Madelyn pointed out, gently teasing. "I hope you've learned a valuable lesson from this, young man." A shadow flickered in her eyes at the memory of the unfortunate bell-boy and his end. "As bad as it was... it could have actually been worse. Infectia - that's what she calls herself... she was trying to turn you into a sort of golem-creature, that would do her every wish before dissolving into ash eventually. Total genetic breakdown."

Hank shuddered. "What a vile thought. I trust that your contacts in the FBI can arrange a suitably perpetual prison term for the wretched woman?"

Madelyn nodded. "My old boss is sending a couple of agents - hell, I think he'll probably come himself. It turns out there's about a dozen unexplained deaths matching her MO. And once they start asking questions the right way, I doubt she'll hold out under pressure. Like I said, not very bright. And something of a coward." She patted his arm reassuringly. "I have a feeling she'll be spending the rest of her life behind bars."

"Good." Hank smiled at her. "And thank you, my dear, for taking such a risk... tackling someone so potentially dangerous, even with Remy on side..." He shook his head and smiled ruefully. "I'd have been terribly worried if I'd known. After the incident with the house being attacked, I remember worrying a great deal about your safety, in a hazy sort of way. You were far too intrepid for mypeace of mind."

"That would be why I didn't mention it," she said with a slightly wry smile. "And her power was in the kissing, so unless I decided to get hot and heavy with her, there wasn't that much of a risk. And Remy, as annoying as he is, does know how to handle a fight." And getting information out of the unwilling, but she wasn't going to mention that. Part of her felt strangely guilty, especially considering the way he'd looked at her as she'd tried to treat his cuts.

Hank nodded. She looked... less happy, for a moment, her eyes going distant. Distraction time. He went to get out of bed, paused, and with Obvious Surreptitiousness, lifted the sheet to peek underneath it. Having 'reassured' himself as to the presence of the boxers he'd already known were there, he sighed in relief, swung his legs off the bed and stood up.

She couldn't help but chuckle as he peeked under the sheet, getting up to give him room to stand. And to give her room to call for help if he fell over. "Are you sure you're okay?" she asked. "You've just had your DNA rebooted, so perhaps you should take things easy..."

"I feel fine. Starving, but fine. Strong as a horse." Grinning mischieviously, he wrapped his large hands around her waist, sweeping her up off her feet, swinging her around, and then setting her back down on the floor so gently as to not even bump.

She squealed, startled, as he picked her up, the surprise turning to laughter as he spun her around. It was so good to see him back to normal, and she'd had a part in that... Impulsively, she stepped in as he set her down, wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him tightly. "So good to have you back, Hank," she murmured, laying her cheek against his shoulder and closing her eyes against the rush of emotion. "I missed you."

He hugged her happily, careful not to squeeze too tightly. "Thank you, for everything," he said softly. "For taking care of me, and making me feel safe, and then making me well again. Next time you have the flu, I'm telling you, you're going to have the world's first blue furry nursemaid at your beck and call." He smiled, and risked giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead. "And you know something?" He leaned back and grinned impishly at her. "You really are devilishly attractive when you're all tousled."

She wrinkled her nose at him then. "See, now I _know_ you're back to your old self," she teased, giving him an extra squeeze before letting go. "And now I think you need an early lunch. You'll need your strength, to deal with the clamours for attention and hugs you're going to get once people find out you're okay."

He laughed. "I do, indeed, have many people to reassure. I shall go find those I can on my way upstairs, do a generally 'I am well, hurrah!' post from the computer in my bedroom, shower and find clean garments, and then head down again to joyful clamour from the crowds and a hearty meal. See? I'm better, I can plan again!"

Madelyn couldn't stop the smile. Seeing him so... Hank again was wonderful. "That you can." She dug in her jacket pocket for the hair tie that usually lived there, and caught back her hair in a rough ponytail - that'd do until later when she managed to sleep and then shower. "As for me, I need to see Little Miss Cooties shipped off and give a report to Fred and the team."

Hank nodded. "I'd rather not see her again," he admitted. "Thank you for dealing with her, I do appreciate it. More chocolate for you." He grinned. "And Madelyn? You are going *straight* to bed once you've done that and had something to eat. You've been looking after me, now I get to look after you. And the doctor orders a nice long nap, in the comforting knowledge that you did a fantastic job and all is now well."

She knew better than to argue. "Yes, doctor," she sing-songed. "There's a you-sized robe in the cupboard there," she added, pointing it out. "Since those boxers of yours could blind Jubilee."

Hank looked down and blushed. "I like pink and green penguins," he muttered. "But no robe for me. I will get my emergency pants from my office." He grinned at her. "You never know when you'll need emergency pants. Especially around here."

"Especially with our prime pants thief back on his feet," she pointed out with a grin. Then her beeper went off, and she sighed. "Looks like Fred's here. I'd better go. I'll tell Moira you're roaming the halls so she doesn't send the search party out after you."

"Indeed." He did his best Courtly Bow - impressive when you had that much arm to gesture with - and blew her a kiss. "Farewell, lovely lady. I shall see you soon again... at lunch!" And then he bounced away, grinning. He had people to hug, and pants to find.

Scott is Hank's first stop, and they both get a little emotional. Hank confesses his interest in a certain lovely lady doctor.

Hank felt... fine. Perfectly ordinary. And terribly hungry, of course, after sleeping for nearly a full day. But there were more important things to attend to than food. He'd headed straight for Scott's office, and now he tapped on the door, beaming. Scotty was going to be so happy!

"Come in," Scott called distractedly. The door opened to reveal a grinning Hank, and Scott rose from his chair, looking up at Hank hopefully. "Hank... you're awake?" he asked, smiling tentatively. "How are you feeling?"

"Awake, alert, alive, and better than ever!" Hank said cheerfully. "I am in the pink, bright as a button, and entirely recovered." He bounced over to envelope a startled Scott in a big hug. "And I feel better, too!"

Scott had stiffened at the hug, just instinctively, but then returned it fiercely, glad he was safely being crushed and Hank couldn't see the look on his face just yet. He just needed a minute to get his expression back under control, that was all. "You're sure?" he asked, and if his voice wobbled a little, oh, well... "I think you need to toss a few six-syllable words at me, just to make sure. Or start singing Gilbert and Sullivan while standing on your head. Remember Charles' expression when you did that at that dinner he threw for... I can't remember who. The b-big fancy one?"

"I do." Hank laughed, patting Scott's back gently and pretending he hadn't noticed the catch in his voice. "I plan to teach Alex all my dreadful ways, you know. Feeding all the children sugar before bedtime, singing rude or theatrical songs at any moment, placing amusing boobytraps about the house, leaving severed limbs about.... not jumping down off the tops of wardrobes after lying in wait, though. I'll save that for Kyle, who's better equipped."

"Oh, good," Scott said a bit faintly. Hank wasn't going to mind if he did the 'holding onto the large, fuzzy, big-brother-figure' thing for a few seconds longer, he thought. "I'll hold you to that. He's been getting in far too little trouble lately."

"And my kind of trouble is so relatively safe," Hank pointed out. "Jolly japes and harmless pranks, and all that." Scott wasn't trying to wiggle away, he noticed happily. Good. He was in a very huggy mood right now. "Perhaps you'd care to join us for the sculpting of a marzipan limb, once Lorna's kitchen is all reassembled? Can't have a new kitchen without a prank-christening."

Scott laughed suddenly, shakily, and hugged Hank a little more tightly. "What, me? Pass up the opportunity to neglect my work and play with marzipan?" His voice broke. "Damn it, Hank... you scared the crap out of me, you know. I ought to be very annoyed with you." Okay, so you didn't usually try and hug the breath out of the person you were annoyed with, but these were special circumstances.

"I scared the crap out of me, too." Hank returned the tightened hug, his own throat getting a little tight. "That was.... I have a whole new benchmark for 'worst thing that could possibly happen to me'. But it's over now, thank God. And thank Madelyn, of course." He couldn't help the slightly goofy smile. She'd rescued him, gone out armed with gun and Remy to save him.... "She was there when I woke up. She told me what happened."

All right, Summers... enough is enough, so pull yourself together. Scott gave Hank one last grateful squeeze and then drew back, giving Hank a deadpan look. "Your own guardian angel," he quipped lightly.

"Indeed." Hank grinned a little sheepishly. "Beautiful, brilliant, AND armed. What more could one ask in an angel?"

"You be sure to tell her that." Scott swallowed, then smiled. "And apologize for every gray hair you've given her over the last few weeks. She was so worried about you... we all were, but Maddie..." Scott paused, then shrugged a little, still smiling.

Hank brightened. "Really?" he asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. He remembered how sweet Maddie had been to him, while he was sick, and that'd pretty much set in stone his previous wistful hope for More Than Friends status. "She was.... well... definitely worried?" He blushed. Aww. Scot t was going to KNOW, now.... still, he could trust Scott not to tell anyone. "She took good care of me, I remember that... I felt better when she was there."

Scott patted his arm. "You took care of her, too," he pointed out. "Despite the shape you were in. When the mansion was attacked..." He looked up at Hank, a bit hesitantly. "Do you remember that?"

"I remember all of it." Hank nodded, smiling ruefully. "It's a bit embarrassing, in places, but I do recall. And I'm glad I was still alert enough to realize that Maddie wasn't there, and go looking for her - not that I realized she was locking down the medlab computers, mind you. That didn't even occur to me, which shows how far gone I was. She did have to be there, but the thought of her facing those two alone..." He growled softly at the memory. "They were about to search her, when I got there. For weapons. Or, I imagine, anything else they might find interesting."

Scott's stomach twisted as that nasty little voice in the back of his head decided to take that moment to remind him that he hadn't been there at all, but he smiled again at Hank, a bit strained this time. "Glad you were there, too. And glad Nathan got down there in time to help you both." He stopped, the smile steadying a little. "And you've got the protective thing down really well, you know."

Hank blushed again. "Well... I like helping people. Looking after people. That's why I went to med school, and all. And... well." He grinned sheepishly at his adopted little brother. "Don't tell anyone, but I like Maddie an awful lot, too."

It would be cruel, Scott reflected, to point out to Hank that no one really needed telling. At least until he'd had a little more time to get his feet back under him.

He smiled again, giving Hank's arms one last squeeze before he stepped back, letting go entirely. "It's so good to have you back," he said softly, managing to keep his voice steady this time. "I don't think I can tell you how much."

"It's good to BE back." Hank looked down at himself. "Well, most of me, anyway. My stomach seems to have left everything inside it behind. I'm starving." He grinned. "And I have more people to reassure, before I stop to eat, so I'll leave you to whatever you were doing, for now. But I'll definitely look you up on the subject of that marzipan limb."

"I'll hold you to it." Scott made a shooing gesture. "Go eat," he said, a more relaxed smile playing on his lips. "Otherwise people will hear your stomach growling and think we've got lions wandering the halls again."

"Growwrr." Hank grinned. "Take care, little brother. I'll see you later."

Forge finds out that Hank is well again... and finds out what it was that got him into this mess in the first place

A semi-elastic sphereoid in flight had a reasonably constant and predictable trajectory when acted on with regular force, Forge thought. Landing back on the ground, he skipped to the side lightly, catching the basketball as it rolled across the hardwood floor. Rolling it up his arm and across into his right hand, he dribbled a few times, then spun, jumped slightly, and lofted the ball again to arc through the air and drop through the hoop cleanly.

As he trotted after it again, he tried not to think of Dr. McCoy in the medlab bed. They'd mentioned that his deterioration had stopped - but nothing about whether it was temporary, or if it could be reversed.

Another jump shot, another basket, and Forge tried to drown the thoughts away in sweat and exertion. So far, it wasn't working.

Hank watched for a moment, smiling a little. Ahh, displacement activity, how well thou servest those who live in the shadow of the X. Then he sneaked around behind the boy, who was lining up a shot, and spoke up just as he was about to throw. "For someone who feigns a dislike of exercise, you certainly seem au fait with the use of the common or garden basketball."

Forge tried to spin around in mid-air, but only succeeded in kicking his own feet out from under him, landing on his butt and sending the basketball bouncing wildly across the court. Shaking his head, he looked up from the ground to see a mass of blue fur standing over him, smiling.

"Doc... Doctor McCoy?" Forge blurted out. "You're, I mean... you sound..."

Before either of them knew it, Forge was on his feet and whooping, throwing his arms around Hank as if he'd come back from the dead. Which, in a way, he had.

Hank laughed, hugging right back. "I'm feeling better than ever," he said reassuringly. "The damage, fortunately, was entirely reversible." He patted Forge's thin back, smiling. "Memory, vocabulary, and painstakingly accumulated Huge Store of Knowledge are all entirely intact, thank goodness. Going to med school once was enough, I'd hate to have to repeat it."

Stepping back, Forge smiled and wiped his eyes briefly. "Did they figure out... I mean, are you going to be... do they know what caused... oh hell, you're okay, that's all that matters right now, right?" He stuck his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts and rocked back briefly on his heels, slightly embarassed. "Gave us all a hell of a scare for a while there, you know."

"Gave ME a scare, too." Hank nodded. "But the attack... and it was an attack... was discovered and countered." He smiled ruefully. "And don't worry, it didn't happen here at the school... I'm entirely a victim of my own poor judgement when it comes to women. There are bad dates, and then there's 'I want to rewrite your DNA and make you my slave'."

"Well, was she cute?" Forge said with a straight face, then burst out laughing, almost in hysterics before bending over with his hands on his knees to catch a breath. "You..." he chortled, "...all this mess... over a girl? That's it, I'm never dating. Ever."

"Just try to avoid dating ambitious young villainesses, and you'll be fine." Hank blushed, invisibly under the fur, and grinned sheepishly. "And if a beautiful young woman tries to pick you up at a party, be wary of ulterior motives. Unless it's one of the parties here, in which case... well, be wary of ulterior motives, but of the 'getting into your pants' kind more than the 'destrying your mind and making you a superstrong slavebeing' kind."

Rolling his eyes, Forge bent over to pick up the basketball as it bounced past, tossing it absently from hand to hand. "Ulterior motives, right. If I ever build a time machine, I'm going to go back to ancient Greece, find Plato, and kick his ass for this whole 'platonic' concept."

Hank grinned. "Oh, you'd be surprised. Believe it or not, when I was younger and less wary, I did get seduced a couple of times for my.... ahem... genetic potential." He grinned reminiscently. "In hopes that my genius would be passed on, you know."

Forge blinked, missing the ball with one hand and dropping it at his feet. "Oh yeah, you're back to normal all right." He placed his foot on the ball to stop it and looked up at Hank. "So, they give you a clean bill of health yet? Because I recall someone owing me a game of HORSE. Now that they can spell it again. Unless," Forge kicked the ball up into his hands and bounced it over to Hank. "the evil Jezebel stole your basketball abilities, too."

Hank showed off a bit, catching the ball with one foot, and tossing it up to catch it with a hand. "I am fully recovered," he agreed, smiling. "And I do definitely owe you a game, although I'll have to ask for a raincheck... I have some more people to visit, hug, and reassure that I'm well. How about after lunch?"

"You're on. It's good to have you back," Forge said, stepping in to give Hank a quick hug before heading towards the showers. "But that doesn't mean I'm going to go easy on you, old man."

Hank snorted. "Old my ass. I'm only..." He paused. "Oh, good lord. I'm 32 on the tenth." He shook his head. "I'd say 'I can't believe I forgot', but what with everything that's been going on, I really kind of can."

Forge filed away a quick mental note to get Hank something, then nodded. "I'd try to remind you that you owe me ten bucks, but that trick didn't work the last time someone had amnesia either."

Hank laughed. "That one never works. Believe me, I've tried it too." He reached over, and mussed up Forge's hair quite thoroughly. "And since I'm about to be officially twice your age, squirt, I suggest you be respectful."

"You know," Forge quipped, "Mendel was only thirty-three when he cracked the basics of genetic coding and heredity. You're not past your prime yet." With a grin, he snapped an arm out, plucking the basketball out of Hank's hand and spinning it on a finger. "Mentally, anyway. See you after lunch?"

"After lunch it is." Hank grinned. "I promise not to kick your butt TOO hard."

Hank stops, on the way to his room, to let Miles know that he's okay. Miles is thrilled, and blames cooties for Hank's illness. In a way, he's right.

Hank rapped on a certain door, hoping that a certain little green person
would be behind it. He'd found Forge and Scott on his roundabout way up, and
Alison was bound to encounter Madelyn, if she hadn't already, but Miles...
Miles had to have been really upset by this. Snuggles and reassurance simply
couldn't wait. "Is there anybody iiiiin there?" he asked, in his very best
Cookie Monster voice.

Though there had been silence at the knock, the sound of Hank's voice
generated a loud thumping sound, followed by a mad scrabble for the
door. Yanking it open, Miles look out and up at Hank, holding his
breath as though not quite daring to believe he was really there - and
then lunged forward, arms open for a hug. "Hank!"

Hank scooped the little boy up, wrapping him up in blue furry arms from
ankles to ears. "Hank is ALL better!" he said happily. "And back to the way
I was before I got sick." He hugged a little more. "I'm sorry you had to
worry about me."

"It was not Hank's fault!" The reply was a touch indignant, that Hank
would think he had to apologize for something someone else had done to
him. "It was because of the girl cooties!"

"EVIL girl cooties, even," Hank said solemnly. "The ordinary kind, you know,
will do no greater harm than a Major Grossout, but EVIL Cooties will make
you very ill. You must never kiss evil girls, promise me that."

"Miles isn't kissing any girls!" Alison, clearly, was a mother
and therefore not part of the icky girl species, it seemed. And Lorna
was special or something. "Hank shouldn't kiss any," with a sigh, he
allowed the distinction, "evil girls either!"

Hank laughed. "I still think you'll change your mind one day," he said,
giving the little boy another hug. "But meanwhile, I think your mama's happy
to have you all to herself. And I'm very glad that I'm all better, and can
read to you and play with you properly again."

Everyone kept saying that, but Miles was far too happy to be hugging
Hank and making him talk more just because he finally could and
not worry about embarassing him. Even if he did have to share Mama's
time with Haroun... "Miles is happy too." The little boy smiled up
brilliantly at Hank.

Hank beamed, and kissed his forehead gently. "I'm glad Miles is happy. Later
on, Miles and I will have some catch-up storytime, okay?" Miles was such a
sweet little boy... Hank got all wistful every time he hugged him. Waaaant.

"Yes!" Miles grinned cheerfully. "Hank is going to go tell everyone
else he is better now, yes?"

"Yes. I'm going to make a post on the journals to tell everyone I'm better,
and then I'm going to go have a shower." Hank grinned. "You may have noticed
that I don't smell quite as nice as usual. But after that, I'm going to go
get some lunch. Want to come with me? I can come back and get you if you
want."

The smell was nothing at all really, as far as Miles was concerned.
He'd experienced far, far worse. "Yes! Miles would like that!" The
grin hadn't faded in the least since Hank had been on the other side
of the door, really, though Miles nodded enthusiastically as well to
underline the sentiment.

Hank hugged him again, and reluctantly put him down. "I'll be back in a
little while, then." He rubbed a hand gently over the little boy's head.
"You go wash your hands, in case Lorna checks."

"Miles will be all ready!" A last hug was delivered, Miles taking a
deep breath before letting go and stepping back into his room. He did
not close the door for a while though, instead watching Hank head down
the hallway, happy to see his friend was going to be all right.