Generation X 17 -- Mutants on the Loose Part II: The Happiest Place on Earth by Andy and Lee November 12, 1996 Disclaimer: You know the drill. Warning: It's the Happiest Place on Earth versus the Angstiest Teens in Marvel. If you're weak or faint of heart, or this subject matter offends you, don't read on. ........................................................................... -^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^- Chapter Six: Dealings With the Natives It was like 'the Three Stooges', these young men, except that... well, only one of them was white, they didn't have an affinity for smacking each other for no apparent reason, and any one of them was *far* funnier than Shemp. Jonothon, Everett and Angelo -- mutants at large. A few feet behind them, Paige and Jubilee walked, both with backpacks slung over opposite shoulders. They were content to catch snippets of the boys' conversation and laugh about them quite literally behind their back. Disneyworld was turning out to be more fun because of the common goal they shared more than anything else. Surging ahead through the crowd, they saw it rising above the multitude of heads like Jesus rising from his grave -- if you believed in that sort of thing, and trust us, Angelo did. Majestic towers, white-washed walls, little red flags and all -- yes, folks, it was the Magic Castle. Although in Jonothon's opinion, there wasn't much magic about it... And it really wasn't much of a castle. << The what? >> he asked softly to Everett, his hands thrust into the pockets of his black leather jacket, which was always fashion conscience even during these 100+ Fahrenheit days. The image inducer he was wearing was making the backs of his eyes itch, as if there was an image just outside of his line of sight, and if he moved fast enough, he could catch a glimpse of it, though he never did. << The Happiest Place On Earth? >> "Right, man," Everett said in response to Jonothon's telepathic words. He arched his back, and starting at his lower back and working its way upwards, a slight *crack* was heard as his joints moved against each other. "Mickey Mouse, Minnie Mouse, and the whole crew. I think there's even a Princess here, but I don't remember which one," he said, his clear, alert eyes scanning the crowd for any of the large, fairly humorous looking people in puppet suits masquerading as Disney characters. He really wanted to see one of them. It had been over half an hour since they had entered the park, and he was beginning to think that they all hid away and walkie-talkied each other to let the others know when he was getting close. A large, animitronic Richard Nixon walked by, but nobody paid much attention to him, mostly because he was still very scary looking and fairly amoral, even, or maybe especially, as a robot. << Nah, mate, 's more like the Happiest Fourth Reich On Earth. >> Jonothon said, always the cynic. It probably had to do less with his lack of a face then it did with his chosen attitude. << You know? Like, Disney's not a business, they're a _world order_. >> "Like Microsoft, man?" Angelo chiped in with the ever-jubilant -- though not Jubilee -- attitude that he possessed ever so well. << Very much so. Bill Gates and Michael Eisner are linked together in their Battle for Evil. >> The crowds swarmed around the small group like bees doing their complex dance of communication, like water rushing down a creek and altering its course around a rock set right in the center. Something sets these kids apart from the rest of the Disneyworld visitors -- be it the battle-hardened look behind their eyes, that X-Gene in their body, or maybe just the fact that they're more intelligent than most of the people in the park -- let's face it, while quite a number of the tourists are somewhat smart, the majority of 'em are the lowest common denominator. But, well, so's Paige -- just don't tell that to her. (Or Jonothon, for that matter... ) A small golf-cart passed by, emitting strange beeping noises like one of the Star Wars droids. It was driven by a man wearing a couple of mouse ears. That was the state of the world, folks. The golf cart beep-booped its way past the young Generation-X students -- and what name is less intelligent for a team than Generation-X, anyway? I'm being serious! (Well, okay, Generation NeXt, but still... ) -- who all jumped and cursed in turn as they were almost run down. "'m gonna kick one'f those puppet-people, 'migo," Angelo said to noone in particular. << Neat. >> Jonothon said, apathetically. << Try not to stub your toe on their rock-hard Evilness. >> "Right," Angelo said, slipping into the crowd like a guppy through... well, wait, no, this metaphor doesn't work. Like -- oh, okay, like a dragon flying through... wait, err, no. Hmmn. Oh! Okay. Like a space-ship plotting a course through a meteor field without its shields. (DAMN, I'm good... ) A scream is heard, suddenly, cutting through the air like O.J. Simpson with his carving knife. "Looklooklooklooklook!" a young girl shouted, obviously Jubilee. "LOOK! It's the Dumbo ride!" If she could, she'd leap four feet in the air and tap her heels together, like Dick van Dyke in Mary Poppins. But she can't, so she doesn't, instead contenting herself with jumping up and down. Everett looked up at this, dark brown eyes widening. "Hot damn," he said, softly, under his breath. Sure, he'd never admit it -- what would the fellas at work say? -- but he'd always had a deep, secret passion to ride the Dumbo ride. Something told him, 'yes, YES Everett, this is your Destiny!' So when Jubilee bounded off like a gazelle towards the towering, pink ride, Everett quietly followed her, not unlike a cute pet. Which left, of course, only Jonothon and Paige. Jonothon glanced to either side, quickly, as if to say to himself, 'THEY LEFT ME? ALONE? WITH HER?' Paige, though, simply bit her lower lip and increased her pace to match Jonothon's. Of course, of course, if only one of them had the guts to move anything forward in this relationship (or lack thereof), it was going to be Paige. Girl power, and all. Jonothon turned his head to look at Paige, dark eyes clouding over with something not unlike nervousness. Oh, and on that note, let's take a moment to examine Marvel Physics, shall we? Alright, then. Jonothon Evan Starsmore -- has an 'accident', where he explodes. All his inner organs have been destroyed and, in their place, his skin acts as a shell, a chamber, around the psionic energy he creates. So, in a way, if he ripped his skin off ( and, remember, no nerve endings means no pain means no gain ), he'd be some sort of energy form. Does that qualify as human? He'd be some floating mass of glowing energy. Beside that, how does he move? There's no skeleton to manipulate individual parts of his body, and, even if there was, there're no muscles to move those skeletons. Theoretically, unless the psionic energy has some sort of 'hard' texture ( which it doesn't ), he would collapse, nothing to hold up his skin. And how's he have those eyes, anyway? Hmn -- apologies on the brief interlude, we now return to the story at hand. Paige continued walking with studied casualness, looking around with vague interest, almost pretending to be above it all. A group of high school students on a field trip drew her attention. They were so much like the kids from the Xavier's School, but so different, too. Both high school students, both out for a day of fun, but she was sure that those others hadn't just been invaded by some sort of mutant hunters and had their headmistress missing in action. Speaking of the headmistress... Paige was sure that the teacher following the group of students would never be caught dead in silky lingerie, let alone wearing an outfit of it in public. Jono toyed idly with the image inducer in his left hand. Noticing that, Paige grinned and remarked, in an almost normal voice, "Nice not being noticed, isn't it?" Surprised, Jono glanced over at the blue eyed blond walking next to him and shrugged. The form he had been given by Sean included a face and chest, and when he had looked at himself in the mirror, it had taken everything he had not to shatter it and send the shards flying in all directions. From the relaxed way she was treating him, though, Jono was fairly certain that Paige didn't know just how far she'd stuck her foot in her mouth. << Yeh. Nice. >> he agreed, moving behind his emotional walls. Glancing at her from the corners of his eyes, he watched her covertly when she looked away, and quickly looked forward when she glanced back. "You don't seem like you're having such a good time," Paige remarked, her lips set into a wry, almost disapproving line. Now that Everett and Angelo weren't with them, Jono was quiet... almost too quiet, Paige thought. Her James Bondette act aside, though, she was perceptive enough to notice the fact that he was almost religiously avoiding talking or looking at her. Besides the fact that she was very bothered because her friend was no longer talking to her, she thought his pouting -- that was the only word she could come up with -- was entirely inappropriate. Here they were, in the happiest place on earth, and what was he doing? Angsting. Again. She swore that when she joined the X-Men that she would never angst, not like her brother did, and while she hadn't completed succeeded, she liked to think that she did much better than most of the others who seemed to get sucked into the X-Angst. And, besides, Jono looked so depressed when he angsted, not like anyone else looked happy, that wasn't what the word meant -- she knew, she looked it up when her brother first wrote to her all those years ago -- but he took everything so seriously, she ungenerously thought that if he wasn't already missing a face and chest that if he were to smile, that in itself would break him in half. Almost surprised that she would say such an obvious remark, Jono replied << Oh? An' how can I not? 'ere I am, in Happy Happy Joy Joy land, with little kids running an' squeeling into me ear, an' all around this sickening sweetness that's 'bout to make me 'effin' gag, an' ye think I should be 'avin' a good time? >> His sarcastic answer shot across the short distance to her mind with unforgiving harshness. Paige felt the rush of blood to her cheeks and knew that she was blushing furiously. Ducking her head and looking away from him, she shrugged and mumbled an incoherent, "Sorry." The guilt settled in almost at once. << Bloody 'ell, I'm sorry. >> Jono stopped and looked at the slightly pink girl he had just snapped at. << It's just... >> Starting forward again, catching up the few steps to walk again at her side, he felt the need to explain. << It's just that all this is getting to me. This >> he said, motioning broadly with his hands << This isn't real life, it's some sort uv fake mockery, made ta help us pull the wool over our own eyes so we can follow blindly an' merrily along the path to where the cliff ends. They expect us to jump over the side when we reach it, that's what they expect out uv us, luv. It isn't the happiest place on earth, it's... it's the most sadistic, 'cause this is a life you're never going to get, no matter how hard you try. It's never as easy as they try to make it out to be. >> Her eyes were drawn to him involuntarily, and she listened with surprise and amazement. Thinking that he was eloquent when he wanted to be, she realized he had a point. She'd never thought of it that way -- never had to, really. Unlike the tortured young man walking beside her, she'd never had it all and then lost it in the space of a moment. It wasn't consciously that she decided to do it, but rather a more basic instinct that guided her. It was subconscious and subtle, and she didn't know she'd done it until she felt the smooth leather beneath her finger tips. Laying her hand on his arm, taking a half step closer, she looked up at him with her bright blue eyes and nodded in understanding and... Acceptance. Not just of his words, he realized, but of him. She was standing too close for him to be able to properly think; to say she was distracting him was an understatement. Almost perversely, he felt glad he had snapped at her, if this was the result. ........................................................................... -^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^- Chapter Seven: Time Off The sun beat down on the street warmly, and the bright radiance lent a surreal glow to the storefronts. Trees lined the avenue, but the position of the sun meant little shade for those walking in the street itself. Crowds of visitors, most of whom were on vacation, though there was a surprising number of locals, jostled with good humor. This was a world where being friendly to a stranger was accepted and even applauded, as opposed to the real world, where everyone was suspect. Or so, in the paranoid age, it seemed to be. Moving among tourists who had no idea of the differences seperating them from the rest of humanity, two men and a woman walked down the main street of Disneyworld. Only two were mutants, but the third, by her association and easy friendship with the first two, was a mutie-lover, something that was a fate worse than death according to approximately 62.8 percent of the citizens of the United States during the last poll. The self-professed mutie-lover was dressed casually but not incompetently, giving lie to the belief that all tourists must wear horribly out of fashion and distinctive clothes. With jeans, a t-shirt, and simple tennis shoes, she looked like one of a million other normal, twenty-almost-thirty-something women in country. Her dark brown hair, which had hints of auburn streaked through it, was cut short and pulled back by a small band. The two mutants were a study in contrasts, one older and distinguished, the other younger and more carefree. Their clothing reflected far more about them than they would most likely feel comfortable about. Wearing sensible shoes, slacks, and a button downed shirt, the older man walked with a calm, centered air. The younger man, on the other hand, was far more casual. Of the three, he could be proclaimed most typically tourist like without any stretch of the imagination. Looking like a kid from a bad eighties slacker movie, his dark sunglasses hid his blue eyes behind a reflective surface. "This is nice," the younger man remarked, grinning at each of his companions. "Finally, some time off." "Time off from what? It's not like *you've* been working up a sweat lately, Bobby." The woman picked at her cotton candy. Her fingers, sticky and pink-tinged, held another mouthful of the spun sugar. "You're one to talk," Bobby shot back, dropping his sunglasses briefly to squint against the daylight. "Instead of going back with Jack and his crew, you decide to tag along and get some free vacationing in. On our account." "Emma's, ye mean," the older man broke in with a broad grin. "I will admit, having money has its priveleges." "Yes, it does!" was Bobby's enthusiastic reply. "So what's say we take advantage of it and go get something to eat. Something nice and expensive. Hey, Mal, why don't you pick?" Glancing down at her watch, Mallory laughed. "You'd think no one ever fed you. It's not even ten, yet." "There's no rest for the wicked," Bobby said. "So, you game or is this tough girl act just all talk?" The tough girl act obviously wasn't all talk as Bobby clenched his side after an elbow jab to the ribs. "Watch what you say, boyo, or you just might find out how tough I can really get," Mallory said with a pleasant demeanor. "Is that a promise?" he asked with feigned innocence. Bobby covertly cast an appreciative glance at the woman next to him. She was a couple of years older, but not by much, and her sense of humor was something he found himself attracted to. Besides which, it had been a long time since he was able to harmlessly flirt with someone. "You wish. And that innocence act might've worked on your blessed friends, but we're a different set around here. Aren't we, Sean?" Mallory looked past Bobby, hoping to illicit the older man's help in this light verbal sparring. "Now, lass, don't ye go dragging me into this. Though do ye mean to say that ye'll be joining us on a more permanent basis?" Sean had noticed that she used 'we' and frankly hoped that it meant she was considering staying on with the group. Not only would it be good to have a pilot and fighter of her skill level handy, it would also help to have another older woman around to show a different side of the coin. As ruthless and feminine as Emma could be, Mallory's tom-boyish looks and grounded attitude was a nice balance. Glancing from one man to the other, Mallory admitted, "I've thought about it. I didn't know if you'd want me around, though. I've got to remind you, though, that I'm not special or anything." The particular emphasis on the word 'special' gave it a certain meaning that could not otherwise be conveyed in this public spot. She meant, of course, that she was not a mutant. In fact, she'd wondered if the people at the School hired anyone who wasn't a mutant at all. Of course she knew that they did on a non-permanent basis because they had hired Jack, after all, but that didn't the answer the question of whether or not she could conceivably join the staff. "Other than my piloting, I don't know what I'd bring or how I'd even earn my keep." Finding himself liking the idea of having more time to get to know her, Bobby quickly spoke up. "Being special isn't everything. It's not better or worse than any other way of being. Just different. You have a lot to contribute just by being yourself and knowing the things that you do. Honestly, I think it'd be nice to have people there who weren't... well, who weren't special. The kids need to enteract with everyone and not just us special people in that secluded private school." Sean was impressed by the answer Bobby gave to Mallory. Unbeknownst to the headmaster, Bobby had been doing some maturing and was developing into a very intelligent, understanding young man. Knowing this, he thought, gave him hope that even Jubilee, who often shared Bobby's outlook on life if not specific personality traits, would grow up to become a fine young woman. "Well, that makes sense," Mallory said. "Sometimes the best way to erase the division of lines between groups is to bring more exposure. A lot of the reason why things like yellow journalism can work is because they feed off of the fear of the unknown, the irrational and paranoid feeling that someone who is different than you is unknowable. But don't the kids already know a lot of people who fall into my category?" She carefully kept her words general enough not to arouse suspicion. The careful attention she had to pay chafed at her and made her realize that it must be hard for people to go about denying who they are to the rest of the world for fear of an adverse reaction. "Aye, o' course they do, but most o' them are family. An' families, even if ye don't get along well with them, are an exception to a lot of rules when it comes to the lines o' division, as ye say," Sean said. "I haven't had a chance to talk to Emma about it yet, but I do know that if ye would want the spot, she wouldn't object. An' I already know that you'd be good for it, an' I don't think Bobby here objects, do ye, lad?" "Well, I dunno... " Bobby replied. Another, softer elbow jab left him chuckling. "Alright, you found me out. I wouldn't object if you were to join us. In fact, please do! It'd help to have another adult around who wasn't quite so old." He laughed at Sean's haughty, offended expression. Ignoring Bobby, Sean turned to Mallory and said, "Well, ye think about it, lass, an' if ye think ye might be a bit agreeable, then we'll talk more specifics. Like a pension plan an' health care benefits." Forestalling any more discussion, he said, "But that's for later. Let's just enjoy ourselves here an' now an' not talk shop for the rest of the time we're here. Everyone agreeable to that?" A finger tapping his lip, Bobby frowned. "Hmm... " he said, thoughtfully. "Enjoy the day goofing off with no thought of work or the real world while immersing ourself in this garden of delights or gruel over the problems that face us every day at work and will continue to face us when we go back? I don't know, Sean, that's a pretty tough call there." Walking with a preoccupied air for a moment or two, he acted as though he were deliberating the great Questions. Sean just laughed. ........................................................................... -^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^- Chapter Eight: Hackers Monet stuck the lollipop back into her mouth and glanced around this, her kingdom. The computer system operations center -- or, the Brain, as its employees called it -- that controled the entire park was easy to find. Following the call of electrons, she found it, hidden here, at the upper level of a castle. So cleverly disguised so that no one would find it, so artfully done so that it would blend in with the rest of the theme... so useless against Monet St. Croix, hacker extraordinaire. Not that it was their fault. How were they to know that she was a technopath, able to 'surf' -- how she hated that term, as dated as it was -- the waves of information as easily as she flew through the air. Of course, walking past security was just as easy as she turned their minds to the left and to the right and casually slipped in between. Row upon row of monitors and hard drives, of blinking lights and Microsoft symbols -- how she hated that company, as inane as it was -- greeted her as the elevator doors slipped silently shut behind her. Moving forward with the slow, deliberate pace of a queen, she glanced down her aristocratic nose at the mindless drones which punched away at the information. How little they understood. They could never appreciate the finer points of the system they so lovlessly worked with. Finally reaching the black, unmarked door at the end of the corridor, she turned the knob and pushed it wide open. A silent alarm almost triggered, but she put a finger to her lips and said, "Shhhh." It stopped instantly. The office into which she had just walked contained two rather large mainframes. It was also intensely cold in here, and she almost scoffed at the naivity of the wage-slaves. Compared to the system she had 'hot wired' back at the School, this was child's play. But, still, it was supposed to be a field trip, and child's play was encouraged. Stepping past a counter, she moved into a large, plush chair and sat back in it, putting her feet up onto the mini-filing cabinet. Putting one hand behind her head, she leaned back and considered the screen before her. It held the main access to the mainframes within it. Smiling just slightly, she reached out with her mind and entered the poor, inadequatly guarded machine. ........................................................................... -^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^- Chapter Nine: Runnin' From the Law Angelo smiled to himself thinly. Anyone looking at the Hispanic young man would describe his smile as "evil", the smile worn by the Chesire Cat. Except Angelo ain't no Alice, and this ain't Wonderland, so... okay, well, wait, this is Wonderland. And there, only ten feet away from our grey-skinned protaganist, a large Goofy, blissfully unaware, waves cheerfully to the horde of children who cling to him like little, evil leeches. Angelo slides his hands into his pockets and slides up close to Donald, wondering how in _hell_ a grown man could stand to have that job, especially in this heat. That suit must be hot as hell, and weigh a ton. Dropping his evil smile, Angelo began slowly walking, winding his way within a foot of the Thing That Was Goofy. When the large, costumed Goofy turned to face Angelo and wave cheerfully, Angelo smiled back, and honest smile. It was safe, it was clean, it was ... it was wholesome. Yes, the entire picture was straight out of a Norman Rockwell painting. The children looked up adoringly at Goofy and, in turn, Angelo. Goofy patted Angelo on the head. If this were a Disney cartoon instead of a Disney theme park, the bluebirds would be out and chirping in force, the sun's rays would shine down perfectly from the heavens, and soft violins would play in the background. But it's not. So, Angelo jumped his ass. [ to be sung like an Early Beastie Boys song ] As Angelo split, crowd parted -- the Red Sea! And the rent-a-cop's shouted, they shouted with glee, "There he is, that's the one, the one that got Goofy! He's got grey skin, his whole look's fake! Let's deck his ass, 'fore he makes his break! Watch out, boy, a beating will you take!" Angelo saw the cops, their warning did he heed, He turned on his heels and raced outta there, with speed. He ran past the vendors, he ran past 'em all! He ran past that grazy gigantic golf ball! It was a killer chase scene with special effects, Like explosions and dinosaurs and crazy car wrecks! Like every bad movie you ever did see, Sorta like a scene from Lethal Weapon Three! Disney cops, they got guns, but Angelo got skills, He got what it takes to pay all the bills, He knows what he needs to forcefully show 'em, He's got better rhymes than this Gen-X poem! He ran throughout the entire park, Trying to find a place where it was dark So he could hide there. But of course it's well lit, I mean, c'mon, the place is just a bit Too artificial to be real. Sorta like Kenny G, 'r maybe Seal. Disney is a communist organization, a socialist utopian society, Where everyone is their puppet, we're all slaves, no-one's free! Mickey's face is on the television, on our underwear, soda cans! Ange's not committing any crime, he's just taking down the man! He ducked into a room, hearing the cops run by, He said, "Shame I'm not Monet, then I could fly!" But he breathed a sigh of relief and left the dark room, Swearing never again to attack silly people in costumes. ........................................................................... -^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^- Chapter Ten: The Dumbo Ride "AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Around and around they went, over and over, the large, grey ears of the elephant bearing them up and higher at each revlotution. "LEE! This is crazy!" "WHY? Arencha enjoying this? C'mon, you're the one who said 'One more time! One more time!'." "Yeah, but that was seven times ago! I... man, I think I'm starting to get sick." "What? Sick from the *Dumbo* ride?!" "Hey, lay off me, man. I'm outta here." But the large, grey ears would not cooperate. Around and around, with no signs of stopping, the ride continued on its merry way. The young African American boy sitting in the seat next to the wild eyed Chinese girl struggled frantically to remain calm. "I want outta here!" Staring at him, or trying to despite the continual ups and downs of the ride, Jubilee laughed hysterically. Some might say that she was just another Disney girl enjoying a fun day at the park, but other, wiser people would notice the maniacle gleam in her eyes and call her what she truly is... Jubilee, Satan Girl of Disney! Everett stared at the Satan Girl and started wondering if he should call for his mommy. ........................................................................... -^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^- Chapter Eleven: Ice Cream The food court situated in Frontierland was large. Paige was beginning to realize that, like Texas, everything here was large. Taking her cone more firmly in her hand, she manuevered around the sudden horde of pre-teen fashion queen wannabes -- mental note: thank Jubilee for the creative description. A large tree to one side of a stage was her final destination, and she kept her eye on it as if she half expected it to up and leave the minute she was distracted by one of the inconveniently placed guard rails. Whose bright idea was it, anyways, to run a guard rail almost perpendicular to the path she was on? And then... she saw it. It almost made her scream. Walking forward with a saunter, the horrible terror she had feared was about to come true. A young, impossibly young, high school student was coming at her with a predatory look in his eyes. "Hey, there, babe," this terror of terrors said, flashing his bright, I'm-A-Disney-Hero-Prince smile at her. He was taller than she, and built like a football line backer. And probably just as dumb was her uncharitable thought. Wearing the regulation jeans and a muscle t-shirt that most high school guys tended towards, he wore everything tight. Grimacing, she thought about not replying and simply moving to one side, or just saying 'to hell with this' and husking into a praying mantis whose sole purpose in life was to take over the world, but realized, with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, that none of it would work. "Hello," she replied, civilly. Taking a side step to the left, she attempted to walk past the neanderthal. "Hey, hey, hey, where are you going? I was just about to ask if you want to come along with my pals and I and go check out the new rides over at the south side." Oh great, a local. That made her feel more than safe. With a start, she realized that the 'pals' he spoke of were standing beside him, further hemming her in. They were all as big and probably stupider, she thought, again uncharacteristically. Jono's cynical outlook on people must be wearing off on her. Good. "No, thank you. I've got to meet my friend," she said, nodding to the tree which seemed light years away. "Hey," she wondered if that was the only sentence beginner he knew, "is she cute? Bring her along." Again with the smile, which was becoming more and more like a leer. She fought down the irrational urge to dump her ice cream on top of his blonder than blond hair. The only thing which stopped her was the fact that it had cost her four sixty five for two scoops. "Yes, *he's* cute, an' *no*, he would not want to come along," she stressed, hoping he would take the hint and move aside. She briefly toyed with the idea of hiring her brother's ex-team mates to take care of these people. They were a good group, if a bit violent, but that just made it all the better. "Hey, honey," there was that damn hey again, "I'm sure there's enough to go around. You don't need a loser like that, anyhow. If you were mine, you wouldn't leave my side, babe. You're too fine," he added, as if that would be the clincher. Paige ground her teeth together, and subconsciously a scowl appeared on her face. "Look, you... !" she began. << There a problem 'ere, luv? >> Jono asked from behind her. Luckily, the induced image moved its lips at the same time, and since the boys weren't that perceptive anyhow, it appeared to them as if he had actually spoken the words and not just telepathically sent them. He slipped a possessive arm across her shoulders and pulled her closer to him. Glaring at the pitiful excuse for humans looking at him with a mxiture of anger and frustration written plainly on their faces, he wished, not for the first time, that he could just blast the offenders and be done with it. After only the briefest of pauses -- and a heartfelt thanks to whoever was listening -- Paige smiled up at Jono, putting on her best simpering expression. "Oh, nothing, snookums. These nice gentlemen were just leaving." She almost laughed at the look on Jono's face. He never realized she was so good at simpering before, and the snookums comment made him arch an eyebrow at her. Wraping an arm around his waist, she looked at the guys and happily sashayed past them, Jono firmly in tow. Maybe it was the dangerous look with a slight hint of madness tinged to it, or maybe it was the fact that Jono used every bit of intimidation skills he had ever learned, but either way, they parted and allowed the pair to leave. They had almost reached the tree when Jono began to remove his arm. Reluctantly, though. Very reluctantly. But Paige simply drew him closer and leaned her head against him. "Not yet," she whispered, her shoulders shaking with laughter. "I think they're still watching." And how could he refuse a request like that? Moving his arm tighter around her shoulders, he walked in step with her. The induced image smiled a bit as he looked down at the girl he held. ........................................................................... -^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-