On Pointe

Posted on Wed Dec 20th, 2023 @ 7:03pm by Bobby Drake & Kennedy Kelly
Edited on on Wed Dec 20th, 2023 @ 7:03pm

2,202 words; about a 11 minute read

Mission: Episode 3: X-Tra Ecclesiam
Location: X-Mansion
Timeline: August 22nd, 1990

Laundry sucked.

Bobby had always hated every aspect of it. The basket, the washing, the drying, the folding, the putting away. Once he had learned to cover himself in ice, clothing had become less of a necessity and more of a personal expression of style. Otherwise he would just go around naked in ice-form.

The needs of style dictated that he go through his old clothes and see what still fit. He had only been gone for a couple months, but a lot changed. Inside, mostly. His measurements were the same according to his old clothes but most things just felt wrong, like they belonged to someone else.

As if laundry wasn't already heinous enough. Now he had to drag his issues into it as well. Bobby snorted with frustration and threw a clean-ish tank top into the trash pile.

The first time a figure walked past the laundry room, Bobby thought nothing of it.

The second time the figure walked by he paid enough attention to notice it was a female figure.

The third time the figure walked by he finally noticed that it was Kennedy. Which was enough of a realization to make him pay attention.

The fourth time she walked by it was obvious that she was lost and tracing the same pointless steps over and over again.

By the fifth time she passed by, Kennedy finally gave up and returned to the laundry room. She had noticed Bobby folding clothes the first time she had passed by. Wanting to avoid any of his horrible flirtations she kept walking in hopes of passing by unnoticed and she would have, had she actually known where she was going.

“Hey, Bobby.” She poked her head into the laundry room, her long blonde hair placed in a high tight bun. “Could you please show me where the gym is? I can’t find it.”

Ooh-la-la. Bobby’s mouth moved but no sound came out. He dropped the wad of clothes in his hand into the basket at his feet and turned to face Kennedy directly. “Why, of course! I’d be delighted.” He kept his cheeser grin at bay for now, settling only for a crooked smile. “First, though, I gotta ask… how much do you know about this place? I’m assuming someone already let you in on the, eh, good stuff?”

“Some.” Kennedy replied as she folded her arms across her chest, sparing herself from his ogling of her figure in the simple black leotard she was wearing. “Bliss and I talked about it last night. My family aren’t really X-Men supporters, and I think they would have picked the ranch in Montana over this place had they known.”

Bobby grinned wickedly at the mention of the X-Men but said nothing.

“I don’t really know what the expectation is for that sort of stuff, I don’t really see myself as an activist.” Kennedy looked down at her gray sweatpants and slip on shoes as she spoke, it seemed cowardly to admit that to someone like him.

“Don’t do anyone any favors,” Bobby said in a rare moment of real expression. “Do it ‘cause you want it.” He cocked his head toward the door. “Come on. I’ll show you the secret entrance.”

It turned out the secret entrance was right outside the laundry room in the main open area. Bobby walked to the left and grabbed what turned out to be a false section of pipe. The wall slid aside and revealed a cylindrical chute of sorts. “It’s a tight squeeze for two,” he said with a wink. “After you.”

She gave him what could best be described as an exasperated look before clutching her gym bag to her chest and slipping into the space.
“I don’t really know what I want anymore. The best I can come up with right now is ‘get through this’.”

Kennedy looked back at him as they passed through tight space.
“Why do you do it?”

Once they were snug as a bug, Bobby closed the door and hit the release. After a quick drop and a sudden stop, the door reopened into a metallic corridor that looked like it could withstand a bomb blast.

“I do it because I can,” Bobby said, “and because someone has to. Might as well do it with style.” He shot her some finger guns before walking away. “Come on. Gym is this way.” As he guided her down the corridor, he pointed out a few locations. “Spare dormitories are over there for when we’re on call for some emergency or another. Over there are some labs and shit. I never did much with them. At the opposite end is a trauma ward and medical suite with some kickass equipment. Some of it runs itself.”

Without looking back, he ducked into a smaller side corridor. “There’s a smaller pool down here for laps. A hot tub and sauna for post-workouts and other ‘extracurricular’ activities.” He turned his head to waggle his eyebrows at her. “Gym is right through here.” The short hallway opened into a wide open space. One of the longer walls held a reflective mirror and the far end had some barbells and other weightlifting equipment. Spinning around on one heel, Bobby asked, “Here you go, sweet thing. Need anything else?”

Kennedy peered down both the hallways and took in all the additional rooms. This place was getting wilder and wilder.
“How do I get back to the real part of the house?”

“Go back the way we came,” Bobby said. “That elevator chute will take you to every floor of the mansion. You can get here from the upstairs dormitory lickity-split if you wanted to.” He eyeballed the equipment. “Maybe I’ll, uh, squeeze in a quick workout too while I’m down here.”

“Oh… Sure.” Kennedy wasn’t completely surprised by his decision to stay and she wouldn’t admit it to Bobby but she was glad he did stay. She felt lonely most of the time, part of the reason why she was happy to have a roommate, anyone to talk to helped her feel better.

Kennedy made her way over to the mirror wall and set her bag down before taking off her sweatpants. She wore white tights and a small skirt around her waist made of pink chiffon, the outfit of a dancer. She placed her pants in her bag and pulled out a pair of pointe shoes, not just a dancer, but a ballerina.

Sitting down on the floor she began putting on her slippers in a rather meticulous manner.

“So how long have you been here?” Kennedy attempted to create polite conversation rather than silence between them.

“A few years.” Bobby pulled off his shirt to reveal a bare torso. He wasn't jacked by any means but his lack of body fat accentuated his natural musculature. Hands raised, he began stretching, which made his defined tone pop a little more. “It's a good place once you get past the haunted house vibe. Maybe that was just me when I first got here.”

Once he finished, Bobby finally took in Kennedy's outfit. It wasn't just girlie workout attire.

“You're a ballerina?” Bobby was shocked. “That's…that's cool.” He didn't know what to say because he didn't know shit about ballet and normally would not have much good to say about it. Seeing her in the flesh, though, filled him with sudden interest.

“I do ballet.” Kennedy began to stretch her long legs across the gym floor “But I’ve never been a principal dancer or in a company. I was told I was too tall for that type of dancing, the men couldn’t lift me the right way. But I still enjoy dancing so I guess I’m a ballerina in an informal definition of the term.”

Kennedy started to stretch her arm in addition to her extended leg, it had been a few weeks and she felt stiff.
“Where are you from? Do you have family?”

“I'm from Nowheresville upstate,” Bobby said. “Not on great terms with my family either. The whole town was kinda glad to see me go.”

He realized he was gawking at Kennedy’s stretching, so he grabbed a dumbbell and sat down at a bench. Each rep was slow and deliberate, maximizing the motion of his bicep for full extension. A peek from the corner of his eye watched for any sign that Kennedy was watching.

Kennedy hadn’t been watching, she stood up and turned her back to him so she could watch herself in the mirror. She began to slowly plié and relève to warm up her legs, her hands moving in circular sweeping motions to balance and accentuate her movements. But she had been listening to him and his rather vague explanation of who he was.
“So you’re by yourself too, huh?

At first Bobby didn't respond, wrapped up as he was in her warmup exercises. The form of her technique went beyond the obvious appeal of her body and struck a chord of finer appreciation for her skill. Not that her ass ever left his area of focus though.

When she asked him the question, he dropped the dumbbell onto the floor.

“Huh?” It took him a second to snap back to the situation where they had been having an intermittent conversation. “Oh. Uh. Yeah. I guess I am.”

Between the vulnerable admission and the klutzy maneuver, Bobby was feeling a bit dumb and down on himself. And that meant going for gusto. When you don't feel you rate, just overcompensate.

“You don't have to be alone,” he said. “Not when I'm around.”

He returned the dumbbell to the weight rack and replaced it with an even bigger barbell. Each curl took a grunt to complete.

“You don’t have to do that.”
Kennedy stopped her plié and stood up straight. Her eyes found his through the mirror’s reflection. “You can just be yourself, all that hot air and swagger isn’t necessary. I’d probably like you more if you didn’t.”

Bobby recoiled at her statement. What the hell! What kind of crazy girl said exactly what she thinks?

“No hot air here,” Bobby said while catching his wind. That barbell set took more out of him than he cared to admit. Meeting her candid stare made him suck wind even harder. It was time to play the trump card.

Like a dancer ending in a flourish, he slid closer to her in a half crouch with his hands up and palms out, he turned to ice form. “Because I'm the Iceman.”

“Whatever.” Kennedy said with a disappointed roll of her eyes. She asked for one thing and he offered her the exact opposite. “Let me know when Bobby actually wants to talk.” She bent down and picked up her bag and made her way towards the door.

The frosty exterior melted away in a flash mist. “Hey, what do you mean? I'm still Bobby!” Standing there shirtless, though, he suddenly felt far more exposed than sexy. “Never mind…”

He moped back to the side of the room with the weight racks to retrieve his shirt.

“But you’re not.” She folded her arms across her chest and cocked her hip to the side in a stance of defiance.
“I’ve talked to you, what? Twice now? And I can tell you’re faking. I’m sure you have your reasons that make you think that act is a good idea, but it’s getting in the way. You might be a nice guy Bobby, but I can’t really tell when you act like that.”

Bobby shimmied back into his shirt and then fixed her with a hard stare. “Act like what? A nice guy? I'm just trying to be friendly. So what if I flirt a little. That never hurt anybody. You know you're beautiful, so it's not like I'm letting out any kind of secret.”

His pitch spiked as the emotions came out. “Maybe this is the real me. How would you know? You've been here all of ten minutes. Maybe I'm just not good enough for your prissy, stuckup, snobby bitch ass! Maybe I'd like you better if you weren't so damn judgey.” His eyes burned with pre-tear moisture and he hated himself for it.

“Right, I’m just some stuck up bitch.” Kennedy seethed. “It’s a good thing you aren’t a hypocrite, because you sure would look like an ass if you decided to label someone else after talking to them twice.”

She stormed off in her pink pointe shoes and ballet attire, her visuals an exact opposite of what came out of her mouth.
“Get fucked, Bobby.”

Bobby shouted after her, an angry outburst without words. His ice form erupted in harsh ridges and spikes like a horrid beast rather than the likeness of a man, passing on a bestial roar to his shout. As soon as the rage had come, though, it dissipated. The ice form was gone, leaving behind a young man with a quivering lip.

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