Of Turkey and Togetherness - Part 1
Posted on Wed Jan 8th, 2025 @ 4:52pm by Charles Xavier & Connor Bruin & Bobby Drake & Hank McCoy & Kurt Wagner & Darian Elliott & Hayden Davis & Aurora Summers & Kennedy Kelly & Kayleigh Marshall & Maeve MacKenna & Meja Vikström & Jennifer Bryant & Drew Williams & Warren Worthington III & Angela Williams
10,114 words; about a 51 minute read
Mission:
Episode 5: Days of Fortune Past
Location: X-Mansion
Timeline: November 22nd, 1990
Tags: Thanksgiving
Professor Xavier sat at the head of the elegantly decorated dining room, his usual serene demeanor warm and welcoming as he addressed everyone in the mansion, whether near or far. The buffet spread before them was a true feast: roasted turkey, glazed ham, mashed potatoes, and an assortment of sides and desserts worthy of the occasion. The aroma filled the air, mingling with the faint scent of autumn leaves drifting in from the outdoor patio.
"Today, we gather to give thanks," Professor Xavier began, his calm voice cutting through the hum of conversation. "Not only for the bounty before us but for the connections we share, the bonds that make this mansion more than just a place of learning—it makes it home. Let us honor the challenges we've faced and the victories we've won together. And let us not forget those who cannot be with us today, holding them in our hearts as we celebrate."
With a slight nod to the caterers, Xavier concluded, "The buffet is open, seats and trays are available throughout the dining room, parlor, and the patio where space heaters have been provided. Please, everyone, help yourselves, and let’s make this a day of joy and gratitude."
Maeve listened intently to the Professor. She had to admit this was a foreign holiday for her, much like most of what the US had to offer. A day to get together, eat and say thank you... American's were strange enough she thought but the spread of food distracted her from her bruised ribs, her now healing burst lip and slight black eye she'd received during their last outing. "I guess I'm thankful none of my friends got seriously hurt." she thought to herself.
Aurora’s thoughts went to Hank as the Professor mentioned those who couldn’t be with them, she could only imagine his pain at Mara’s loss. Her arm wound was mending nicely, and neither she or Christopher were any the worse for wear after the amount of physical exertion she’d put in. She was ready for something to eat and the buffet looked delicious.
Kayleigh smiled as she sat listening to the Professor’s speech, their losses had been unavoidable but she wished they’d been able to help Mara.
It was a day to be thankful for sure. Hayden thought about all they'd been through the last several weeks. It would be times like this that she missed her family. But she had another family that she was growing into now and that wasn't a bad thing. The buffet looked scrumptious. She grabbed a plate and started to make her way though the line.
As the students began to line up for dinner a rather loud rumble of a sports car’s engine caused the leaded stained glass windows of the dining room to quiver and shake. The disruptive engine dropped down to a humble purr before stopping completely. Whoever had arrived wanted everyone to be aware of them and their new toy of a vehicle.
Several seconds later Warren Worthington III entered the dining room. Dressed in a smart and well tailored Italian suit, he looked incredibly different from when he had been rescued from his role as a Prime Sentinel. His blue eyes were bright, his flaxen hair was quaffed and feathered, and he had a wide, charming smile on his face. Warren was a statue of a man, a piece of art carved from Grecian marble turned flesh. The only word to describe him was ‘beautiful’.
“Professor.” Warren took several long strides across the dining room to greet his former teacher. His voice was a rich baritone that filled the room with little effort. “I’m sorry I missed your speech. If you don’t mind, I’ll make the rounds before joining you for dinner.”
"Welcome, Warren! It is good to see you!" the Professor exclaimed. "Yes, please, make yourself at home, as always."
Ethan had been thinking about Xavier's words when Warren stepped into the room. He'd been thinking of trying to talk to him when he'd heard that he had recovered from his ordeal. He'd thought the two had similar powers though they came by them in very different ways. Their upbringing had been different of course, but if some of the rumors were true, it wasn't a radical difference.
His desire had been purely platonic, looking for a mentor relationship, but looking at him from across the room, he couldn't help his mind wandering into a very non-platonic direction. But he quickly stifled those thoughts.
He almost walked up to him at that moment, but held back from doing that opting to let Warren come to him, if and when he made the rounds and decided to say something to him.
Jennifer was definitely distracted by Warren's entrance. He was handsome and, she knew, blameless. Still, part of her couldn't help flashing back to when he had been controlled by a Sentinel intelligence. She absent mindedly shifted a little. She was still sore from the battle. Her injuries might not have been serious per se but they were a new thing to her.
Meja felt strange in among the large gathering of the students, all a-buzz about the huge spread and celebrating such an American holiday. Her focus was more keenly on the loss, and, though her wounds were less serious than others, she still limped a little, the tendons in her left leg still pulled and tender from a landing gone wrong during their most recent mission.
All the same, she gave slight, weak smiles to the younger ones who surrounded her as she hobbled out toward the parlour and retreating for her want of a quieter room. She wasn't hungry at all.
As the assembled guests began to queue up, voices rising in cheerful chatter, Bobby Drake stretched luxuriously on the leather sofa in the parlor. His leg was draped over the back as he waited for someone to notice his nonchalant presence.
His smirk grew wider as the room filled with laughter and movement. He’d managed to slip in the night before, unnoticed except by Xavier, who had greeted him with an amused but knowing look. Now, Bobby relished the moment, watching for the inevitable double takes when his friends realized he’d been there the whole time.
He flicked a small ice crystal between his fingers, letting it sparkle in the light as he murmured to himself, "Let’s see who the first victim is."
A glint caught her eye as she moved towards the buffet and like a magpie she followed it to someone she didn't know. He was older looking, confident in how he sat and expected someone to talk to him. Maeve was always an inquisitive sort and walked over. "Hi, I'm Maeve. Who are you?" she asked as her Irish accent seemed to catch the sparkle of the ice floating between his fingers. "That's pretty cool," she commented.
“Ohh that’s Bobby, better known as Iceman.” Aurora smiled as she looked towards Bobby, then back at Maeve. “Just wait until you see what he can do.”
"Maeve... you're the rock girl, right?" Bobby flashed his best grin as he lapped up the sudden attention. "We met last week with the Sentinel thing, but allow me to say..." Bobby took Maeve by the hand and with a debonair smirk he said, "Enchante!"
As he released her hand, Bobby waved his own in front of his face with a magician's flourish. Ice crystals finer than sand misted through the air and glinted like a chandelier rainbow before evaporating away. Turning his attention to Aurora, he said, "You're looking good, as always."
“Thank you” Aurora smiled warmly at Bobby. “If you’ll both excuse me I’m heading for the buffet.” She offered them both a smile and headed on her way.
"Iceman..." Maeve thought out loud. She had heard of him in passing, and read a bit about him. Before she knew it he was taking her hand and gave her a daring smile. She blushed for a moment, a mild tinge to her cheeks before realising what he'd called her. "I can do more than rocks you know... and my name is Maeve." she flicked her auburn hair over her right shoulder. Maeve got the impression he put that charm onto everyone.
"Yeah, I caught that." Bobby winked in reply to both statements from Maeve. "You from Ireland, Maeve? Your accent sounds kind of like my friend Sean's, just less... I don't know. Rough? Like you got smoother edges and a softer feel...to your voice, I mean." The smirk on his face made it plain that her voice was not all he meant.
"Southern Ireland yeah. If your friend sounded rough then he's probably from Northern Ireland, I don't know a lot about them apart from I've been told to stay away from them." she shrugged. Life on Achill Island was remote enough as it was but she knew enough about being catholic and them being protestant and not wanting to get involved in any of that. Sometimes she missed the solitude of the island. "But, thanks? Are you from here? I'm not used to all your accents yet."
"I'm from upstate," Bobby said. "No real accent to speak of." For him, that was true. He had a non regional diction compared to most regions of New England, but he took for granted that his American accent wasn't standard for Maeve. "Yours sounds nice though."
"IT SOUNDS NORMAL TO ME," Connor cut in. "SCOTTISH GAELIC WAS THE FIRST LANGUAGE I HEARD OUTSIDE OF NEDERLANDS." Nobody has asked, yet that had never stopped Connor from offering unsolicited information. "IRISH GAELIC IS NOT FAR REMOVED, SO IT REMINDS ME OF HOME ON MUIR."
“Any accent is a plus as far as I’m concerned.” Warren said with a debonair laugh, “Girls with an accent can read you the phone book and you just melt for them.”
Connor turned an upward eyebrow at Warren, skepticism rife on his face.
Warren briefly clapped Bobby on the shoulder in a form of greeting and as confirmation that Bobby obviously felt the same way about his opinion on accents. “Isn’t that right, Bobby?”
"You know it!" Bobby agreed, trying to play it cool in the same way as Warren. Somehow he didn't quite come off as smooth. "Fancy bitches and, you know, foreign lands... are way cool!"
"DO NOT SAY BITCHES," Connor signed. "IT IS UNCOUTH."
Warren’s laughter was a rumble that sounded reminiscent of the sports car engines he loved so much. “Oh god Bobby, that’s why you’re the best wingman. You make everyone look better.”
"That's right, dude, cool as ice." Bobby kicked back on the sofa with his hands folded behind his head and pretended like Warren had given him a compliment. "I just bet you're right."
"HAVE YOU MET WARREN?" Connor asked Maeve. "OTHER THAN FIGHTING HIM AT THE SENTINEL FACTORY, OF COURSE."
Maeve wasn't sure if she should have came back and defended herself over the fancy bitches comment but it felt half like a compliment, and she was from a 'foreign' land with quite a thick accent to boot. Connor was straight to the point, as always. "No I've not met him properly, but I'm glad you're yourself again." She smiled at Warren warmly. She never liked to see anyone suffer, and was more grateful he wasn't trying to kill them anymore. "How're ya feeling?" She asked. "This fancy b-- ehm girl wants to know." She almost said the same wore Connor had chastised the boys for but she found them cute, funny, if not slightly over confident in themselves.
"This beautiful young lady," Warren corrected Bobby's off remark before his grin widened and he took her hand in his for a brief kiss before he continued. "I'm feeling better for the most part, thank you for asking. Of course anything is better than being a Sentinel, it came with a price to pay but I am glad to be back, to be back home amongst the people I care about." It was easy to feel sympathetic towards Warren and his lack of magnificent white wings. They had been his crowning glory at one point in time, that is before they were brutally stripped from him. "It's a pleasure to meet you Maeve, I'm sure you could make the ground quake under my feet."
Feeling a little crowded, Bobby decided to move on. "See you around, Maeve," he said as he began loading up a plate of food.
Warren's kiss sent what felt like a shockwave through her body. Goosebumps formed on her arms as her hairs stood on end for a moment as she felt his lips retreat from her hand. Listening to him she could see a sadness in his eyes as she spoke about the price he'd paid, the loss of his wings. Granted the made him look majestic but he was still handsome, stood tall above Maeve, and certainly wasn't short on confidence. "It's nice to meet you too, well properly I mean." Maeve replied. "And I could definitely make the ground quake under your feet, and more." she smiled. She wasn't one for showing off so the immodest comment came as a surprise to her.
"I bet you could." Warren's grin widened at Maeve but then a secondary thought passed through his mind "You're eighteen, right?"
"As of last week, yeah. Why?" Maeve asked a little confused. She was never a good flirt, nor adept at picking up signals, even if there were any. She'd lived outside the norm before being accepted here that she often avoided interaction with people so picking up cues was difficult, and at time could lead to embarrassment.
"How convenient." Warren said in a voice that was almost a purr, "I'm just crossing my t's and dotting my i's. Maybe we'll connect later and you can show me how you can make the earthquake." He nodded his head to her before heading back into the dining room.
While Kayleigh sat alone, Kurt took the opportunity not to interrupt anyone else to ask a scathing question.
"Wie bitte... Fraulein Kayleigh, ja?" Kurt pointed one of his over-sized fingers at the sweet-potato casserole. "I hef been trying to figure out vhat in ze vorld zhat could be, but for ze life of me I do not know. Ees zhat melted marshmallows like ze s'mores from Halloveen? But zhen vhy ze nuts on top?" His fanged smile flashed with nervous energy. "I confess I hef never seen such food as zhis before."
Kayleigh smiled at Kurt as he pointed to the food. Her attention momentarily distracted from his question by Warren.
“That's a sweet potato casserole, fuzzy.” Warren said with a chuckle as he watched Kurt examine and prod the bright orange mash. “It’s kind of a Southern thing but a lot of people like it at Thanksgiving. It’s far too sweet if you ask me.”
“What he said” Kayleigh grinned as she pointed to Warren.
Warren offered Kurt his hand to shake, his skin was tinted a pale sky blue but his hand was large with squared fingers and a strong grip. “I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced outside of your teleportation skills. It’s nice to meet you…”
"Ja, Herr Varren!" Kurt accepted the firm handshake without flinching. Anyone who was willing to take his hand in welcome was a friend indeed. Once they released, Kurt bowed with a dramatic flair, one hand tucked against his chest and the other outstretched to the side. "Praise be zhat you are hef joined us. Zhanksgiving is a good name for zhis day, for you are free and on your feet. Vhat a miracle!"
“Thanks, Fuzzy.” Warren raised an eyebrow at the flourish and display but anyone who was happy to see him was okay in his book. In a small attempt to aid Kurt, he named off a few more of the more unconventional dishes on his Thanksgiving plate. “That brown bready casserole is stuffing and the gooey red berries are cranberry sauce.”
Warren nodded his head in acknowledgment of the girl that Kurt was talking to. “I hope you have a nice Thanksgiving as well.”
“I’m Kayleigh, I’m glad I didn’t do you any harm.” Kayleigh offered Warren an awkward gaze. “It’s nice to see you fit and well again.”
"I doubt a doll like you would be capable of such terrible things." Warren smirked at her and her uncomfortable aversion to looking at him, the gesture made dimples appear on the sides of his cheeks and he appeared more teddy then bear in that moment. "But thank you nonetheless, it's lovely to meet you, Kayleigh."
Bobby paused as he passed by with his loaded plate. "Kayleigh... Ember, right? You pulled some fancy moves with the Sentinels. The Prof said I helped Hayden with her powers and thought I might do the same for you. We can hook up sometime, you know, in the Danger Room."
Ethan, who was close enough to hear the trio's remarks could not help but roll his eyes. It was a classic case of Bobby being Bobby. Then after getting a drink he moved back to where he'd been standing before.
Angela and Drew were late arrivals to the feast.
Angela because she wanted to make sure that her outfit and makeup were perfect for the occasion. She had settled in rather easily the last few days and was rather pleased at having Kennedy Kelly as a roommate. She hadn't really had much chance to meet the other students what with getting school records updated and class schedules set up. She looked forward to this evening.
Drew had been reluctant to attend the event and almost hadn't if it had not been for his sister threatening to drag him downstairs. Angela's argument had ended with saying it was an all you could eat buffet. That pretty much settled their dispute.
"Hallo, again!" Kurt said to Angela and Drew with an enthusiastic overkill. Despite his natural reticence, Kurt couldn't help but get into the festive spirit of the holiday he had never heard of before. "Zhere is plenty of food today! Come, make ze plate and take your fill!"
Angela took a plate and began moving down the buffet line. She was hungry and the spread was amazing. Drew followed his sister up, balancing three plates on one arm and carrying a fourth with his free hand. They made it through the buffet line and found a table. Drew went back to one of the tables and brought them drinks before sitting down at the table to eat.
Jennifer smiled up as Angela and Drew took their seats. Her expression was warm and welcoming. "I don't think we've met?" she said.
Angela beamed a friendly smile back to Jennifer as Drew took a seat after procuring drinks for himself and Angela. She looked at the very attractive young woman. "Angela Williams." She gestured at Drew. "This is my brother Drew. We just arrived Monday night and been busy with Professor Xavier and the faculty hammering out enrollment, school records and orientation the last few days." She gestured across the room where Kennedy was heading out to the patio to eat. "I'm Kennedy’s new roommate."
Drew gave Jennifer a nod of his head. 'Is every girl enrolled here a supermodel?',he thought to himself. He looked down at his plate and hoped he wasn't blushing as much as he thought he might be. He gave Professor Xavier a furtive glance before looking cautiously around and wondering if anyone else was telepathic.
"Oh! I know Kennedy!" Jennifer said cheerfully. She was getting to like the other girl. They had had a few good conversations. "How are you getting along so far?"
Angela returned Jennifer's bright smile with one of her own. "We're doing great actually. I have only one complaint." She gave a short laugh before stating her one and only complaint about her roommate. "Kennedy is like nine inches taller than me and I am not going to be able to borrow any of her clothes or shoes."
"Well, we're about the same height," Jennifer answered. "If you ever want to borrow anything..." She was hoping to make friends.
She looked over to Drew and smiled softly. Maybe she did notice him blush. Maybe she didn't. "It's nice to meet you, Drew." She took a bite and paused a moment. "Is that short for Andrew?" She felt stupid as soon as she said it. She'd sort of just been at a loss for much to say just then.
Drew shook his head as he took a bite of food from his first plate. "Just Drew. I was named after my great grandfather. He came over to the United States from England after World War I."
"That sounds interesting," Jennifer said. "So you were both born here in the States?" she asked the brother and sister.
Drew nodded as he looked to Angela. "Cambridge, Massachusetts."
Angela nodded as, maintaining eye contact with Jennifer. "Dad's a senior Research Fellow at Harvard. He works with other geneticists on the G-nome Mapping Project. He's the one that contacted Professor Xavier when the news story broke about Drew's super speed."
"I'm Canadian," Jennifer shared. "From Halifax." She thought New Englanders might know where it was. "It must have been helpful to have a dad who was already an expert?"
Drew shrugged. It was obvious he was apprehensive about the topic. He and Angela had told their parents about the night he had to use his super speed to keep her from being run over by a pickup truck being driven by a drunk driver. Testing had followed at his father's laboratory that confirmed the presence of the X-gene in his DNA. It wasn't until video footage taken by students from the high school and another video of Drew running at extraordinary speeds through the countryside that had prompted their father to contact Professor Xavier. He looked at Angela for a moment. His expression one of sorrow. "I would have done it all over again. I would have been much more careful in using my powers afterwards if I had known about the school video project taking place by Mel's Diner that night."
Jennifer frowned at his obvious apprehension, reaching for his hand. "I'm sorry. But you're among friends now. We can all be ourselves here and we're..." She hesitated. Was safe the right word? They certainly faced danger, but they faced it together. That was it! "We're in this together, Drew. We all have your back."
Whether or not Jennifer had seen Drew blushing a few moments ago, there was no missing how his cheeks turned crimson as she placed her hand atop his. He nodded his head, yet kept his hand perfectly still. He did manage a weak smile that at least sent a message that he WANTED to believe her.
Angela glanced down at Jennifer's hand atop Drew's and allowed a hint of a grin to cross her face. She glanced up at Drew and Jennifer. Kennedy had said that there weren't that many boys compared to the number of girls among the older adolescents and that some of the girls might pounce on Drew. She took a moment to decide whether or not to intercede before placing her own hand atop Jennifer's. "Together."
Jennifer grinned when Angela's hand lay on hers. Drew was cute, it was true, but she wasn't the sort to pounce on first sight. She just wanted to meet both the new mutants and make some friends. She smiled a moment longer before withdrawing her hand to continue eating. "How are you two liking it so far?"
TBC in H's So Shy
Warren continued on his tour of the dining room with his over the top laugh and too firm of handshakes. He was gregarious and charismatic, especially when compared to the likes of Cyclops. Despite the fact that he, or at least his body, had attempted to murder a large number of the people in this room, he seemed unfazed by that potentially awkward situation.
Warren made his way over to the buffet line and noticed a tall blonde as she picked up a plate and made her way to the serving trays. Her golden hair was pulled up into a high ponytail and her form fitting sweater gave her a very Betty Cooper sort of appearance. It was the deep red lipstick that she wore that made her appearance much more appealing, a touch of racy red with a good girl appearance. Warren found the combination irresistible and made his way next to her in line.
“Hi, I’m Warren Worthington III,” he said with a plastic smile as he saddled up to her.
“Oh we all know. Kennedy Kelly,” she offered in return as her eyes remained fixed on the buffet.
“Is that so?” Warren recalled the name from his conversation with Bobby as well as a few more traits she had mentioned. Stealing a glance without being too obvious about it, he looked her over. He smirked in approval over whatever caught his eye. “Sorry about your father, I’ve been catching up on the news from the past few months.”
“Thanks,” Kennedy replied with a lack of any real emotion. She felt his eyes on her and she didn’t particularly care for that type of attention or their conversation, so she did her best to disarm him. “Say, didn’t your grandfather go crazy in the end? Like wearing tissue boxes on his feet?”
Warren couldn’t help but laugh at the comment. His family was one of industrial wealth and innovation and their names occasionally appeared in history books, including the demise of the original Warren Worthington. “Yeah, you could say it was something like that, at least you’ve heard of us.”
“No press is bad press, right?” It was a phrase she had heard whenever her father ran into a sticky situation in his political career that he wasn’t pleased with.
“You know my name, that counts for something.” Warren’s smirk turned devious with that remark.
“Sure.” Kennedy was grateful to be at the end of the buffet line but her plate was barely stocked with food. She had been in too much of a hurry to escape this conversation with Warren to bother with a real meal. “If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Worthington.”
“Warren,” he corrected, “Mr. Worthington is my father. I’ll talk to you later, Ms. Kelly. If tradition holds true, maybe a lap around the pond after Bobby freezes it over for ice skating.
As Kennedy departed, Warren couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. He missed this game. Looking up from his now fully loaded dinner plate, he noticed a guy simply gawking at him. “Women, I can’t live with them and I sure as hell can’t live without them.”
"Damn," Ethan thought to himself, he'd been busted. Warren had spotted him staring. He just managed, or at least he hoped he managed not to blush.
He almost replied that he could live without women, but that would be spilling the tea, which he had no intention of doing.
"I guess that's what all the swinging bachelors say," he opined instead, "or have you just been hanging out with Bobby too much and he's rubbed off on you?"
Warren let out another one of his over the top chuckles in response to Ethan’s comment. “Bobby would like that wouldn’t he?”
With a touch of boyish charm he examined Ethan in more regard as he finally connected the dots as to who he was. “You’re my… what did you call yourself?” Warren faked like he was trying to remember the words. “Oh yes, my replacement.”
Smug joy took over and Warren couldn’t help but stifle the grin it created. “Maybe you wish Bobby would rub off on you then?”
Ethan's attempt to not blush evaporated at Warren's words. Normally quick on his feet and able to come back with a quick retort, Ethan was left speechless for ten seconds, that seemed like more than ten years to him.
"Uh, I don't know about that," he finally got out. "But, Bobby and I have hung out together."
"I don't think of myself as your replacement though."
“Of course not,” Warren’s grin turned devious before he continued “No one could ever replace me.”
Warren patted Ethan on the shoulder in the same too hard manner that he had done with Bobby before he walked away. His eyes caught a few more familiar faces as he returned to the Professor’s table.
“Jeanie!” Warren’s face lit up as he watched Scott and Jean enter the dining room. “You finally joined us, it’s about time.” Setting his plate down he went over to greet her with a kiss on the cheek. Only when he was finished did he acknowledge Cyclops. “Scott,” Warren said with far less enthusiasm. “Glad you could make it as well.”
They were long past the old days when Scott let Warren get under his skin. He still bristled internally where only Jean had the benefit of detecting it. “Warren,” he said plainly.
Warren’s gaze finally found the woman and the teenage boy that had entered alongside Scott and Jean. He didn’t recognize either one of them. “Who are your friends?”
“This is Meilin Jiang,” Scott said, gesturing toward the mousy Chinese woman standing in the hall. “She’s our corporate attorney I’ve mentioned in the past. She also represents the interests of a disenfranchised community in East Harlem.”
“They call themselves the Fallen Angels,” Meilin said, her tone falsely demure as she looked up at both men from her slightly bowed head. “The name is not a secret. You may use it in public.” Her mouth ticked up in the makings of a smirk that never quite materialized as her attention shifted from Scott to Warren. “You are Warren Worthington the Third, only son of Warren Worthington the Junior and scion to Worthington Industries.” Her head canted ever so slightly to one side, just enough to shift her long raven hair. “And the Angel of the Morlocks. Your reforms shook the Mutant Underground a few years ago.” There might have been admiration in her tone, but her face was unreadable.
“Oh, I like you.” Warren said with an almost feline smile as he took Meilin’s hand and kissed it, his thumb brushing the back of her hand as he let go. “Remind me to get your number for the next time I need a plus one.”
Meilin didn't flinch when Warren took her hand. In fact, she didn't move a muscle. She mumbled something nearly inaudible about needing to check her schedule.
“Warren.” Jean frowned at his comment. “Meilin was the one who facilitated the connection between the Morlocks and the Fallen Angels to help them with obtaining resources once the MRA went into effect. Along with…” She leaned forward and looked down the empty hallway, “Where did Ty and Tandy get off to?”
Scott looked down the hallway with a curious frown. “Who's that?”
A young man of dark complexion and tightly braided cornrows shifted from blending into the wall to flexing a pose.
“Yo, I'm Darian.” He held his hand up to shoulder height with palm facing downward.
Scott furrowed his brow, unsure of what the cue meant.
“Darian,” Meilin said discreetly, “like we discussed.”
Darian tisked in frustration and pivoted back and forth on his feet. “Fine…” He straightened his hand to present a traditional handshake.
Recognizing the gesture, Scott returned it. “Hi, Darian. I'm Scott.”
“It's a pleasure to meet you,” Darian said with exaggerated enunciation which was obviously for Meilin’s benefit.
Meilin sighed. “Is the Professor around?”
“Haven't seen him yet,” Scott said.
“He’s in the dining room and is almost finished with his meal.” Jean replied with that second nature knowledge her telepathy created.
“I have custodial paperwork for him to sign,” Meilin said. “Darian is coming to stay.”
“He’s expecting you as well as Darian.” Jean said with a smile directed at Darian. “We can sit with, having something to eat, then he’ll sign off on everything so Darian can stay here.”
“Word,” Darian said as he looked around. “Nice digs.”
Looking at the table full of food, Scott misunderstood Darian’s meaning. He extended a hand toward the spread. “Oh, help yourself.”
Darian looked at him and just cackled. “Aw yeah. This gon’ be alright.”
“Go on and have something to eat and feel free to wander around and meet everyone. We’ll get you moved into a room after dinner.” Jean suggested to Darian, who was already wandering off towards the buffet.”
“Fo’ sho’.” Darian mumbled as he left the adults to talk. Making his way over to the Thanksgiving meal he began to pile on an excessive amount of food onto his plate.
Hayden had slowly finished her plate and was taking it to the dish crate when she saw some familiar and not so familiar faces. She gave a slight wave to the group and then grabbed a dinner roll, tossing it up and then catching it. "Hi," she said to the new guy piling food on his plate. She thought she recognized him from somewhere, but couldn't place it. "I'm Hayden," she said introducing herself. Hayden took a bite of the dinner roll she'd just picked up.
Darian was mid-scoop, loading mashed potatoes onto a precariously high pile on his plate, when Hayden's voice cut through the air. He turned his head, spotting her with a playful smirk already forming. He straightened up, balancing his mountain of food with one hand while letting the spoon dangle loosely from the other.
"Hayden," he repeated, letting her name roll off his tongue like it was a melody. "Hold up, I remember you. Soaked that Sentinel, right? I’m Darian." He gave her a quick once-over, then leaned casually on the buffet table. "Nice of you to roll out ta welcome wagon. And I gotta say, damn fine wagon you're draggin'."
Hayden laughed a little. "I hope it's not a wagon. It takes a lot of work to keep it this small," she said as she slapped her hip. "But yeah, I'm the one that soaked the Sentinel. I thought I recognized you from Beat Street, just never knew your name. So are you visiting for the holiday, Darian, or are you moving in to the school?"
Darian shifted his plate to one hand, striking a confident pose as he gave Hayden another once-over with an exaggerated smirk. "Yeah, see, Meilin, Ty, and Tandy been in my ear 'bout this place for weeks," he said, his voice full of swagger. "Talkin’ ‘bout how it’s the spot to be, how I’d find my people here, all that. Wasn’t too sure about it till I peeped so many fly honeys. Like, yo, where y’all been hidin’?"
He leaned a little closer, his grin widening. "Speakin’ of hidin', how ‘bout we get a lil’ more acquainted somewhere quiet and cozy? You know, away from the turkey crowd and all dat noise." Darian punctuated his invitation with a playful wink, clearly amused with himself as he began shoveling food into his mouth like he hadn't eaten in a week. "You lemme when you down, ya heard?"
"Oh I don't know about that," said Hayden, smiling. "I mean the getting away to a cozy spot. I don't mind keeping you company while you eat, though. I might even grab a little more. Holidays, you know."
"Yeah, I know it." Darian winked at Hayden before moving on to the rest.
With a huff of frustration, Kennedy made her way out to the heated patio which appeared to be the least popular place for eating dinner. The wide open space felt like a breath of fresh air when compared to the confines of the mansion. Examining her meager meal, she sat down and pulled a paperback book out of her purse.
“Are you okay?” Aurora walked out to where Kennedy was sitting. “I used to be the one who used to go sit somewhere alone during gatherings.”
"Oh hi Aurora," Kennedy said while lowering her book to look up at her. "Yeah, I'm fine. I've just had my share of guys like Warren Worthington III. He reminds me of a lot of people I grew up with who think being rich and good looking means you get to do whatever you want." She sighed dramatically before she continued, "I might be homesick for a lot of things during the holidays but guys like that... no thank you."
“I had to get used to worse people before I found my home here.” Aurora offered a wry smile. “I’ve learned not to judge s book by its cover, as the saying goes.”
The faint sound of pages turning drew the attention of both girls to the distinctive blue fur and round glasses of Hank McCoy. He was hanging upside down above the eaves of the patio’s portico, utterly engrossed in his book. The sight was both amusing and oddly comforting.
Hank's deep, cultured voice drifted down to them as he paused mid-page. "Ah, if the very passage I'm reading doesn't speak to your very dilemma. 'A person who can write a long letter with ease, cannot write ill.' Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice." He paused, letting the words settle before adding with a wry smile, "Though I fear that might be misapplied here. I dare say Warren could not pen a single sentence of apology if his life depended on it."
Hopping down into a crouch, he set his book on a nearby table. "Ergo, I do apologize for Warren's… less-than-gentlemanly demeanor earlier. He can be rather like a peacock at times—flashy, arrogant, but fundamentally harmless."
Hank stood up and adjusted his glasses, a hint of sheepishness crossing his features. "I must confess, ensconcing myself to the patio was an indulgence to escape the social fray, but I could not resist offering my humble observation just now." He gestured toward their chairs with a slight bow. "May I join you? I promise not to hover—literally or figuratively. My appetite has been somewhat... elusive of late. However, I am more than willing to offer polite company, which I hope will compensate for the impoliteness you've endured."
“Of course, Dr. McCoy. It would be a pleasure.” Kennedy gestured to another empty seat at the table. They seemed to be the sad misfits who gathered outside the cheerful setting of the mansion, each one nursing a broken heart for different reasons.
“I’m surprised you like Jane Austen, I don’t really know anybody else who reads her for fun… especially men. Most people are forced to read it for school then never touch it again.” Kennedy looked down at her own book of classic literature, a rather worn copy of Anna Karenina. While she may have been searching for herself outside of her past, Kennedy would always consider herself a bibliophile. “I guess you could say Warren is our own Mr. Darcy.”
Hank settled into the offered chair with the grace of a practiced acrobat, clasping his hands together as he considered Kennedy's comment. A thoughtful smile curved his lips, and his glasses caught the faint glow of the patio heaters.
"Ah, Mr. Darcy," Hank mused, leaning back slightly. "While I can see where the comparison arises—wealthy, handsome, and, dare I say, socially inept—Warren lacks Darcy’s hidden depths as much as Darcy lacks Warren's charm. Darcy, after all, is a man of integrity and profound loyalty beneath his haughty veneer. Warren… well, let’s just say he would need a great deal of character development before ascending to such a role."
He stroked his chin theatrically, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "If I were to pluck a more apt comparison from the literary or mythological canon… perhaps Narcissus springs to mind. You recall the Greek lad so enamored with his own reflection that he fell in love with it? That, I fear, is closer to the mark for our dear Mr. Worthington." Hank chuckled, the sound a deep rumble that contrasted with the faint melancholy that had hung over the conversation.
"But alas," he continued, his tone taking on a mockingly chiding air, "it is rather improper to lambast someone in absentia... no matter how richly they may deserve it. To Warren's credit, he can be brave when it counts, and there is a nobility in that which even Narcissus could not claim. Perhaps our mutual friend simply needs more time to grow into his own story."
Aurora nodded. “I guess we could all use more time Hank, we’re all having to grow into our stories. I know I’m not far off starting a whole new chapter, I just hope it’ll be a good one.”
“You said it much kinder than I ever would have.” Kennedy said with a laugh as she picked at her merger meal. “I guess the only thing that stays the same around here is change.” She leaned back in her chair and glanced at Warren as he spoke to Ethan in the dining room. The dynamics around the school definitely seemed to have shifted as people came and went. It made Kennedy curious about the past. “Was it hard to grow up here, Dr. McCoy?”
Hank smiled softly at Kennedy’s question, his gaze drifting momentarily to the dining room where laughter and conversation floated through the open doors. He adjusted his glasses, the gesture deliberate as he gathered his thoughts.
"I suppose you could say I didn’t exactly 'grow up' here, Miss Kelly, at least not in the sense that most students do," Hank began, his tone thoughtful and tinged with a hint of nostalgia. "When I arrived, I had already reached adolescence, and my formative years had been spent in the broader world. I was something of a prodigy—star student, celebrated football player, the kind of success story on which small towns pride themselves. But then my natural talents... well, they became more unnatural."
Hank’s lips quirked in a rueful smile as his fingers absently tapped the table. "What was once extraordinary became uncanny, and soon enough, unwelcome. The community that once cheered my name on Friday nights began to whisper behind my back. It’s an all-too-familiar story for many of us, I think."
Seeing that both girls were listening intently, Hank wet his lips and continued with his story.
"And then, of course," he added, gesturing to himself, "I went and made matters worse. In an attempt to mitigate my mutation, I inadvertently set it loose, accelerating its development into what you see now." He paused, shaking his head lightly. "For me, the X-Mansion wasn’t so much a place to grow up as it was a fresh opportunity—a chance to continue what once seemed to be a promising life."
Hank leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table, his voice lowering just a fraction. "But the mansion soon became something far more. It became a refuge, a sanctuary from a world that looks at me and sees only a monster. They rarely spare a second thought for the soul beneath this fur."
He tilted his head, his smile returning with a bittersweet edge. "So, did I grow up here? Not exactly. Did I learn, evolve, and discover facets of myself I might never have otherwise? Absolutely. But as we all come to find," he mused, stroking his chin in his characteristic gesture, "life rarely goes the way we expect, does it?"
Angela walked out to the patio just as Hank spoke. She studied his appearance for a moment as she listened to his words. She realized that despite his fearsome appearance, he had quite the wise and kind soul. She nodded in response to his final statement. "That's so true, sir."
"Hi, Angela," Kennedy said with a smile for her new roommate. "Have a seat and join us. I don't know if you've met everyone yet."
Hank turned his head at the sound of Angela’s voice, his blue-furred face lighting with curiosity and a touch of chagrin. He straightened up from his thoughtful posture and offered her a warm smile.
"My sincerest apologies, young lady. It seems I've been so wrapped up in my own musings that I've failed to properly acquaint myself with the comings and goings of this school. A lapse of social grace most unbecoming of me." He chuckled softly, gesturing with one hand as if brushing away his oversight. "I must confess to being as blind as Mr. Rochester wandering the moors." Chuckling and spreading his hands in apology, his gaze softened as he regarded her more closely. "Pray, have you been with us long, Miss...?" He let the sentence trail off, inviting her to supply her name as he extended a furry hand in greeting.
Angela stepped forward and shook Hank's hand with a friendly smile on her face. "Angela Williams, my brother and I arrived Monday night. It is an honor and pleasure to meet you Doctor McCoy. I've seen you on the news lobbying for Mutant Rights. I gather you will be one of my teachers starting next week."
Hank's smile widened as he released her hand. "Ah, Miss Williams, a pleasure indeed. And yes, as a teacher here, I'll strive to ensure that your journey is, as Miss Austen might say, 'fraught with improvement' rather than mere trials."
"This is Aurora." Kennedy did her best to play unofficial hostess in the same manner she had with Kurt. She gestured to the petite blonde who was heavily pregnant.
Angela turned to Kennedy and Aurora after making her introduction to Professor McCoy. "Either one of you seen Drew?" She held a hand up. "This tall, shoulder length hair. Not too ugly."
"No, I haven't seen him. Sorry." Kennedy confessed "Then again I haven't really roamed the school this evening." She glanced back inside to see if Warren was still standing around. Instead she noticed that more of the First Class had arrived and they were all sitting at the table with Xavier. "It looks like Scott and Jean are here. I peeked at some of the wedding invoices in the Professor's office, they are really going all out for that event. A DJ and a gigantic cake, a prime rib carving table with the buffet and a chocolate fountain." Kennedy paused and flinched a little when she realized that she shouldn't really talk about this with Aurora at the table. "Sorry, Aurora. I didn't mean anything by that."
“No offence taken Kennedy” Aurora offered a brief smile. “To be honest I’m getting used to all the wedding chatter.” She looked towards Angela. “Hi Angela, sorry I haven’t seen Drew either. He’s probably enjoying the get together with the guys.”
Angela remembered Kennedy saying that there was a girl that had become pregnant by a teacher. It wasn't rocket science realizing that this was the girl Kennedy had mentioned. "Pleasure to finally meet you Aurora. I've done a lot of baby sitting since I was 13. If you ever need help once the baby arrives just let me know."
Aurora nodded and smiled. “That’s very kind of you, Angela, thank you. To be honest I’m going to need all the help I can get.”
Angela gave Aurora a warm smile. "Happy to help any way I can. I'm sure I can get Drew to help too." She glanced around. "That is if he would come out of hiding. I really need to find him. Just got word arrangements have been made for he and I to talk to our parents on the phone for a few minutes."
"In that case, Miss Williams, I shall be honored to aid you in your search." Hank stowed his book into his back pocket and hurried inside.
Drew had eaten with Angela at one of the tables quietly discussing their presence in the new school and what it would mean for both of them. He had cleared her one plate and his four plates as she wandered off to socialize. He was still not entirely at ease with how his actions several months ago had caused the disruption in Angela's life. He was still trying to sort things out in his own mind.
Drew had gone exploring the X-Mansion and found a room filled with musical instruments. He took up an acoustic guitar and tuned it slightly before starting to play a slow, soft tune. He focused on his music, so much so that he didn't notice someone else entering the music room who stood there listening to him play. He finished the tune and sighed.
A low wolf whistle sounded from a tall, well built teenager who was examining the room. "Fuck, this place is fancy. Just when I think I've seen it all, another room with more stuff is discovered."
"Don't say fuck." A small blonde with a rather bubbly tone replied to him. "This place is proper, you have to have manners and shit."
Walking arm and arm the pair seemed like an odd couple of total opposites. The young man had a dark complexion and a touch of a scowl to his face while the lady next to him was bright and friendly.
"Sorry!" The young woman replied to Drew. "We're new here, visiting for dinner and we decided to take a short tour around the school. I'm Tandy and this is Ty, we're from Beat Street."
Drew put the guitar back in the stand and offered his right hand to Tandy and Ty. "Drew. I have only been here for a couple of days myself. I haven't really taken a tour of the place yet either." He got the impression that the two were a couple. Probably sneaking off to make out in private. "I don't want to intrude if you guys were looking for a little privacy." He gestured about the room. "Please enjoy the music room." Truth was, he really wasn't in the mood for big groups of people...or couples. He took his leave of the two younger teenagers and left.
“Oh sure,” Tandy said with a crestfallen frown, they had only wanted to speak to Drew but he seemed to have other ideas.
Ty merely stepped out of the way of the door he was blocking, letting Drew quickly depart.
“You scared him off!” Tandy smacked his arm with a mock pout.
“Me?!” The oversized Ty attempted to grin but it was an awkward expression on his face. “I am the epitome of hospitality.”
“Yeah, sure,” Tandy scoffed. They spent no additional time in the music room, they were far more interested in exploring and meeting people than sitting stationary in one space.
“Do you think they use walkie-talkies to find each other?” Ty asked as they continued down the hallway together.
“I THINK THE WORD YOU MEAN IS AN INTERCOM.” Connor trotting out of the hallway bathroom. He paused long enough to pull his second haptic glove back onto his other hand before he continued signing. “I REMEMBER YOU FROM BEAT STREET. YOU LED THE FALLEN ANGELS AND DESTROYED A SENTINEL.” His brow lurched upward as an obvious question occurred to him. “ARE YOU JOINING THE SCHOOL?”
“My school days are long gone, Caveman,” Ty said with a laugh as he offered Connor a fist to bump in greeting, he too remembered the character of a redhead from that attack on Beat Street. “Besides, I can’t leave my Gran and my little brothers and sisters. They would be lost without me.”
When Connor’s gloved fist met Ty’s bare knuckles, the speech-generating device hanging around his neck said, “BOOM.”
“We’re just here for dinner,” Tandy said with a smile from Ty’s side. “Miss Jean extended us an invite and after everything we’ve heard about this place we had to come and see it.” She looked around at the high vaulted ceilings before she continued, “It’s big and impressive so far. At least compared to the shoebox apartments most people on Beat Street live in.”
“IT IS SMALLER THAN WHERE I GREW UP BUT FAR MORE OPULENT,” Connor replied. He pointed to one of the brass doorknobs. “EVERYTHING IS SHINY.” Remembering dinner, though, Connor’s mind quickly returned to his stomach. “I HAVE ALREADY HAD ONE PLATE BUT PROFESSOR X SAID I COULD HAVE MORE ONCE EVERYONE HAS HAD A TURN. COME GET YOUR PLATE SO I CAN DO THAT.”
“A way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,” Tandy said with a laugh. “You lead the way, Connor, since you know the lay of the land.”
Before they departed, Ty took Connor by the shoulder as his voice grew hushed and sincere. “We never formally said it but the Fallen Angels are grateful that the X-Men were there when that Sentinel attack went down. It could have been worse, so much worse. Y’all really stepped up and saved a lot of lives that day. From one leader to another, I’m proud to say that the X-Men will always welcome on Beat Street.”
That gave Connor pause for a moment. This was the first time anybody outside the team had addressed him as the leader of the X-Men. It was both surreal and satisfying, like a dream come true.
“WE ARE X-MEN,” Connor said at last, fumbling for a response. “THAT IS WHAT WE DO. YOU ARE ALL WELCOME HERE ANYTIME AS WELL. OR AT LEAST AS LONG AS PROFESSOR X SAYS OK.”
Maeve had retreated outside. Sometimes being in a building of so much stone and brick could make her feel suffocated. It was an odd sensation given that she could breath just fine but it maybe could be said it felt more like claustrophobic maybe, or like a weight on her body. She sat on the front steps of the mansion, some gravel in her hand as she slowly weaved the small stones between her fingers.
Drew stepped outside the front door and saw a lone figure sitting on the steps. He almost turned around and went back inside. He had pretty much tried to avoid the other students, what with being busy with Professor Xavier and getting orientation. He knew he was going to have to start meeting the other students eventually. He approached the girl on the steps and gestured. "Mind if I join you?" He glanced back at the front door. "Crowded parties are really not my thing."
She had heard the vibrations in the ground long before the mystery man opened his mouth. Crowded parties reminded her a bit too much of the boat she'd arrived on right now. Maeve hoped she'd overcome that in time. Granted she had been in situations where there were a lot of people but that was more a 'fight for your life' and 'save people' kind of deal so she was distracted from herself. "Sure, stairs are big enough for more than just me," she replied in her usual chipper tone. That was more how she spoke than how she felt. "Crowds can be a little too much for me too, and I don't get the holiday." She shrugged in relation to Thanksgiving. "I'm Maeve." She smiled as he sat down, his shoulder length hair slightly hiding his face.
Drew turned to Maeve after taking a seat next to her. He gave her a curious expression. "Drew, Drew Williams. I'm from Cambridge, Massachusetts. My sister and I arrived here Monday night." She was a strikingly beautiful redhead with a very distinctive accent. He glanced about the grounds. "I gather from your accent that you aren't from around here." Her accent reminded him of an exchange student that had been from Dublin last year.
"Nice to meet you. I'd heard we had some new people... just grateful I'm not the new girl anymore." Maeve smiled as the boy say next to her. "You're right though, not from here. Ireland, well... an island just off the coast called Achill Island but I'm as Irish as they come. I've never heard of Masschew-- Massachewsits?" she couldn't say it, God love her tried but her tongue tied at the attempt.
The warm murmur of conversation in the mansion’s various corners quieted as Professor Xavier’s familiar voice resonated through the house, calling everyone back to the formal dining room. The team filed in slowly, carrying with them the scents of dinner and laughter, some still cradling half-filled plates. The long table gleamed under soft chandeliers, and the air held an undeniable sense of gratitude and camaraderie.
When everyone had taken their seats or found space along the edges of the room, Xavier, seated at the head of the table, smiled warmly. He folded his hands in front of him, his voice carrying the calm authority that had always been his hallmark.
“My dear friends, students, and guests,” he began, his gaze sweeping the room, “on this special day of turkey and togetherness, I am deeply grateful to see so many of you gathered under one roof. Though the world may grow more tumultuous, and the trials before us more daunting, moments like these remind me of what we are fighting for—family, unity, and hope.”
His eyes softened as they landed on the familiar faces of the First Class. “Seeing the First Class together again stirs memories of days when the dream we chase now was only a fragile hope. To see you all here, alive and thriving, is a blessing beyond measure.”
He then nodded toward the new arrivals. “To Ty and Tandy from the Fallen Angels, thank you for gracing us with your presence. And to our newest arrivals, Darian, Angela, and Drew, welcome. You are among friends now, and I hope you come to see this place as not merely a school, but a home.”
Xavier’s smile widened, the glint of optimism returning to his voice. “Times are changing, yet I believe that with the courage and steadfastness of friends both old and new, the days of fortune past may one day come again.”
The room was silent for a beat before Scott stood to his feet. His chair scraped lightly against the floor, and all eyes turned to him.
“Thank you, Professor,” Scott said, his voice steady but touched with humility. “For your kind words and your infinite patience. I... I want to say something to everyone here.” He paused, glancing down at the table, gathering his thoughts.
“When I left the mansion, I was a broken man. A shadow of who I had been.” He looked up, his gaze sweeping across the room through his ruby-quartz lenses. “I regret the poor example I set for all of you. For a long time, I lost sight of the dream we've all worked so hard to build. But being here today—seeing all of you, and what you’ve accomplished—it reminds me of why we fight.”
Scott turned to the faces of Warren, Jean, and the absent Pietro and Bobby. “X-Factor is pushing for reform where the X-Men can't barge in with a jet. But make no mistake: we will always come when you call, because we are all fighting for the same hope, the same dream. Just on different fronts.”
As he finished, Scott scanned the room again, his eyes landing on an empty chair. His brow furrowed slightly. “Where’s Bobby?”
Professor Xavier chuckled knowingly, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Oh, I believe I know exactly where Bobby is.” His gaze turned toward the nearest window. “I urge everyone to rush outside. You'll want to see this.”
The room erupted in a shuffle of chairs and footsteps as everyone hurried toward the patio, curiosity brimming in their expressions. The soft glow of the patio heaters illuminated the space, and just beyond the snow-covered lawn, a spectacular sight awaited them.
To Be Continued...
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