xp_logs | So, which one was it needed sense talked into them again?

"Yes, Henry, I bleeding heard you!" Pete's voice was clearly aubile two rooms away. There was a perfunctory knock on the door, before Pete shoved it open. "The overgrown hair pile seems to think I'll smoke around sick people. He tried to kidnap me cigarettes."

Laughing, Paige beckoned him in with a hand. She was sitting in her bed, books and papers spread all around. "Quick, quick, close the door. He usually goes back to pacing back and forth in front of the window if you do."

Pete dropped into a chair, stetching his legs out in front of him. He pulled a battered paperback from his pocket. "Before I forget. Here, read this. It's good for you." He tossed the copy of "Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail '72" onto the bed. "So, how're you, sunbeam?"

Pete had made the serious mistake of giving Paige a book and then attempting to continue a civil conversation. She picked up the paperback and turned it over in her hands, reading select paragraphs as she flipped through. It was several moments before she remembered he was still there and had asked a question. "Oh! I'm fine, thank you. How about yourself?"

Pete waited patiently. "Full of the joys of spring, cheers. So, what've I missed, then?"

"Oh, the regular. Couple exploding rooms, more screaming matches than you can count on all your fingers and toes, and Betsy is off in a coma. It's grand." Paige smiled then, if not a little wryly, and looked almost frighteningly like Alison for a moment.

An odd look passed across Pete's face at mention of Betsy, but he quickly dropped a grin back into place. "A couple of exploding rooms? I thought it was just the one, or have you been leading Jono astray repeatedly?"

Tensing, Paige shook her head, looking away. "No, sir. Just one room. There was the hurricane, though."

"Yeah, forgot about that." Pete paused for a second, then decided not to bother tiptoeing around it. "Look, you're bright enough to know that what happened wasn't your fault, or Jono's, right?"

The words came as a shock to her and she barked a short laugh. "You can't be serious. I was an idiot, as much as no one will tell me so and insist on blaming Jono."

"Yeah, I saw al-Rashid gobbing off, the dopey little tit. Toerag's just bitter about his legs, that's all. I dunno, you don't hear Charlie complaining." Pete picked up a pen, and began to twirl it through his fingers. "Now, d'you mind telling me how exactly you're an idiot?"

"I'm the one who caused the room to explode! It's my fault. He was doing perfectly fine until I showed up. I keep underestimating Jono's power and this is what happens." She let out a frustrated sigh, suddenly wishing she hadn't already removed anything breakable from the room. "So yes. Guess I learned my lesson, hm?"

"Christ, I figured it'd be Jono I'd have to talk some sense into." Pete smiled ruefully. "Not that I don't think I'm going to have to, though Auntie Emma seems to have the boy in hand." He leant forward a bit. "Right then. Did you know that what happened would happen?"

"In retrospect, I probably always knew it was possible. I'm not going to lie to you." She swallowed and raised her eyes to meet his. "I'm sorry. I just… I don't think… around him. Hormones will be the death of us all."

"Hormones are perfeclty normal. Enjoy 'em. And god, it's entirely possible that tomorrow, Jono's containment will just plain not work any more, and he'll blow the lot of us up. It's possible that by walking into the same room as him, you place us all in deadly danger. Does that mean you shouldn't do it? Because it's something's *possible*?" Pete paused for breath.

"I don't think I'm going a long way out on the limb when I say that the one thing Jono badly sodding needs is to feel normal. You tried to do normal teenage things with him. Frankly, I think you're the one with the right bleeding idea. Yeah, you were fucking lucky, and so was he, but fuck, if it spurs him on to the get to the point where you can do whatever it was you were doing without him exploding all over you, wasn't it worth the risk of a 'probably'?"

Paige smiled suddenly. "Yes. Very much so." She paused, slipped off the bed, and came over to him, wrapping her arms around him in a quick hug. "Thank you. Think you could convince Jono now? And perhaps the bastard who is trying to put him in a box? At least that way I won't have to lose my temper, punch him in the eye, and get expelled."

Pete grinned. "That's more like it. But don't worry about al-Rashid. I'm sure better people than me will be explaining the facts of life to him some time soon. And don't worry, I'll be having words with Jono soon. He owes me money, for one thing. For which I have yet to thank you, by the way, so thank you."

Paige tilted her head, confused but interested. "Oh? Should I ask?"

"Oh, not long after he got here, he was having a fit of the 'my life is ruined and I'll never pull again' blues, and I bet him a hundred quid that one of the girls here would hit on him within six months. I'm just glad you went for him, and not one of the rest of your cheering squad." He smiled, to take any bite out of his turn of phrase.

"I'll be insulted and defend my friends later. I'm much more content to just enjoy your company at the moment. Expect a very long letter and some sort of dead animal in your bed later, though." She returned the smile, completely innocent and almost adorable. "But I'm pretty glad myself."

"Dead animal? Can't be any worse than some of me ex-girlfriends. And hey, I didn't mean anything by it. I just think it's amusing that you've managed to wrap just about all the single lads in the place around your little finger without even trying."

Paige blushed a little, but was obviously somewhat pleased. "I am good to my friends, Mr. Wisdom. People like to be treated well. That's all there is to it."

"I'm sure it is. You're too damn well brought-up for it to be anything else." A mock-scowl crossed his features, as if he disapproved of being 'well brought-up'. "But one of the perks of having been through it myself is being able to mock the hormone-addledness of teenage boys. And besides, barring disasters and explosions, it's the only thing happens round here worth talking about."

Paige grinned widely and resisted lightly chuffing him on the arm. "I'm so glad you approve."

"Well, if I disapproved, you'd all just have to sneak around, and I can't be bothered with re-setting mantraps every night." Pete picked the pen up again. "So, come on then. I demand gossip about the hormone addled youth of the school. Spill."

"Oh ho! I love how you assume that I would tell you such things!" She hopped up onto her bed, grinning. "What do you want to know?"

"I'm a trained interrogator. I actually *do* have ways of making you talk, you know. But since you ask, I don't know what to know. There's a small horde of new kids who I know next to sod all about, and I can't actually keep track of who's actually dating who, and who just has a badly concealed crush. I dunno. Pick something. Hell, make something up, if you have to."

"This is what you get for going away for long periods of time and making certain people worry over you," Paige replied, crossing her arms with her nose slightly in the air. "But since you ask ever so nicely, Jamie and Kitty are still doing to the cutest couple ever thing as are Lorna and Alex. We won't discuss Alison and my brother but they're around. Doug mopes over Rogue. John and Angelo… well. I don't know what's up there, but there's something."

She wrinkled her nose, lowering it. "I feel so dirty. How about you just stay here for a while so I don't have to rat out again?"

Pete filed that all away. He hadn't noticed Doug pining after Marie yet. "Oh, I think you're stuck with me for a bit, at least. I mean, I'm not about to take up permanent residence, but I don't actually have a paying job to drag me away any more. And don't worry, that dirty feeling goes away after the third or fourth time."

"But for the time being, I'm going to have to leave you to feeling dirty with your books for company. Me lungs are complaining about the excess of oxygen, and this pen isn't really that much help."

"Oh, good. I thought I was going to have to kick you out and I really didn't have the heart to. It's amazing that you've held my attention this long, what with a new book so nearby." She hopped off her bed again, full of much too much energy for a girl who'd recently been buried under a ceiling. "Come on, I'll show you to the door."

"Ha. You take care. Enjoy the book. For a while there, he was just about the greatest living American writer. And give me a shout if you want a chat, OK?" Pete headed out the door with a wave.

"Expect a shout soon then." She waved in return, calling down the hall, "Don't be a stranger!"

"Yeah, like I'd get away with that!" Pete shot back, as turned the corner, and headed off for his nicotine fix.