Only a couple of chapters left . . . I’m never going to get more than 100 reviews. Oh well! Thanks to everyone that reviews faithfully and anyone that’s ever reviewed even once before!!! PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW MORE!!!!!!!!!

OUTFOXED

Chapter 9: Fiery Tempers and Falling Snow

Scott awoke to the sound of a shower running. He turned on his side, putting his back to where the splinter of light seeped through the bathroom door on the right and groaned. It was too early. He fumbled around in the darkness for his glasses. Pressing the indiglo button on his watch, the bright numbers screamed 5:45, bathing everything within a 2-foot radius with an eerie light. They didn’t even start serving breakfast for another hour and fifteen minutes, who was up?

He propped himself up on his elbows and squinted into the darkness. The cot to his left was empty. Kurt. He couldn’t help but be a bit worried about Kurt - he didn’t think he was sleeping at all at night anymore. Not since they had gone to the warehouse. He stretched his arms out behind him and yawned. But Kurt would work it out on his own, he wasn’t going to get involved, everyone had their demons.

There was no use in trying to go back to sleep now. Scott was one of those people that - once they woke up - there was no going back to sleep until the next night. He sat up fully and began to stretch again, cracking his back and neck. His muscles were stiffer than usual, probably from sitting on a bus all day.

He stood and crossed the room in his bare feet, laughing to himself at Evan who was sprawled over one of the cots and snoring loudly. He parted the heavy hunter green curtains and slid open the glass doors, stepping out onto the balcony in the cold morning’s air in nothing but his boxers and a t-shirt. The cold hit him almost immediately, but Scott really didn’t care. The sight before him was stunning.

The mountain loomed like a dark peaceful creature against a sky that was painted with the first hints of the glowing pink fire known as the sun. The birds had begun twittering their morning refrain but the only movement was the gentle swaying of the massive spruce trees that dotted the mountain side. A fresh dusting of sparkling snow covered everything as though they had been touched by something magical.

He turned as the door slid open behind him. Kurt looked shocked that someone else was up. Unlike Scott, he was dressed, though his hair was still wet. He looked at Scott meaningfully, “The shower’s free.” It was clear that he wanted to be left alone.

“All right, thanks man.” He went back inside to take a shower. As he said before, everyone had their demons.

*~*~*~*

Scott walked down the hall, the rich burgundy paint making it appear smaller that it actually was, counting room numbers absentmindedly to himself. The girl’s and boy’s rooms were on separate floors, for obvious reasons, but he had promised Jean he would go down with her to breakfast and now he had to find out where she was - room 203. Kurt had gone down to the common room at about 6:30, Evan was showering when he left, and Paul was still asleep.

He counted down the numbers as he walked, his mind on other things. He was really looking forward to skiing today. Room 209. . . .
207. . . .
205. . . .
There it was, 203. To his surprise Lance was outside it already, knocking on the door.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Scott spat viciously. What was Lance’s problem? Why was he here? Scott stood ready to strike, his hand on his sunglasses.

Lance looked at him, fear widening his eyes. He had obviously not expected to see Scott here, “I was just . . .”

The door swung open, and Scott was shocked to see Angeline at the door, a hairbrush in her hand, “‘ello Lance. I will just be a minute, come in. Good morning Scott.”

Lance and Scott followed Angeline in, the latter feeling like a total idiot over the event in the hallway. The room itself was in utter chaos; clothes scattered over everything. Scott was careful not to sit on a powder blue bra as he took his seat on Jean’s bed. The only thing in the room that looked neat were the actual girls themselves.

Kitty sat cross-legged in the middle of her cot, calmly brushing her hair and talking to Jean who stood beside Rogue in front of the desktop mirror, applying lipstick. Jean gave a little half wave as he entered the room but eyed Lance with a slight suspicion. Lance, Scott noticed, looked completely lost as he entered the room and sat on the cot that Angeline indicated was her own. Scott realized that Lance probably hadn’t known who Angeline was rooming with either.

Angeline rooted futilely through a large suitcase and sighed exasperatedly. “And nobody ‘as seen my brush?” Scott was about to point out that she was holding one in her hand when she handed it back to Jean, “Oh well, I give up. I ‘ad it last night and now it’z not ‘ere. Probably gone to ze same place lost dryer sockz go. Who knows? Zanks for lending me yours.”

“Hey, no problem,” replied Jean, with her usual good manor, “I know I’d be absolutely lost without mine.” Jean stared at herself critically in the mirror one last time and, deciding that she looked fine (which she always did in his opinion), she, he, Angeline and Lance set off to the dining room, which was on the main floor.

Angeline yawned as they walked down the steps and turned to Lance, “So, where are Pietro and Todd?”

“Still sleeping their way through a soup and karaoke-induced coma,” he said laughing.

She joined him in his laughter and turned toward Scott, “What about Kurt and Evan?”

“Kurt already came down here at about half past six and Evan was still showering when I left.”

“Is he okay?” That was strange. She had only known Kurt for a week and she had noticed that he was acting weird.

“Kurt?”

“No, Evan. ‘e looked a little sick on ze bus yesterday.” Maybe the whole Kurt thing was bothering him more than he wanted to admit. It was like a part of their team was missing though.

“Yeah? Well, he’s fine now.”

“Zat’s good.”

They entered a huge dining hall, which was empty except for Kurt, sitting at one of the back tables stabbing uninterestedly at a half of grapefruit with a spoon. Scott and Jean wove their way through the tables (there were seven, each with 15 seats) and joined Kurt. Angeline sat on Scott’s left and, with slight hesitation, Lance sat beside her. On a long table near the front, the kitchen help were setting out cereal, bowls of fruit, bagels, croissants, donuts, coffee, tea, orange and apple juice, muffins, and milk.

Soon a yawning Pietro and a wary looking Todd joined them, both sitting near Angeline at the far end of the table, away from the x-men. The teams were even until the arrival of Evan, followed shortly by Rogue and Kitty.

It was a very terse breakfast to say the least. The tension was practically visible between the two groups who, following Kurt’s lead, said very little and were intensely interested in picking apart their food. Only Angeline seemed not only content but determined to initiate conversation amongst them, not seeming to realize her efforts were futile and falling on deaf ears. They just couldn’t get along - it was as simple as that. They were too different.

*~*~*~*

“It iz generally ‘elpful to stay standing when you snowboard, Scott.” Angeline pulled him up and, as she did, Kurt fell to her left. She shook her head, smiling, “‘opeless.”

In all honesty, Scott didn’t think he was doing too badly, at least comparatively, considering he hadn’t ever been on a snowboard until a couple of hours ago. He looked over at the rest of the team and Evan, who was attempting to teach them with about the same average success rate. Jean was actually standing and practicing some basic moves, Kurt and Rogue were about the same in skills as he was - still working on not falling - while Kitty sat decidedly in the snow, watching them, obviously having given up.

“Let’z try it again. Watch what Jean iz doing.”

Suddenly self-conscious, Jean fell. Following suit, Scott sat down in the knee-deep snow beside the previously fallen Kurt. He was already wet anyway.

“Oh, I can do that,” said Scott, laughing.

“Are you kidding? I’m a pro at that,” added Kurt, a broad smile on his face; the first smile Scott had seen him give in a week.

Angeline couldn’t help but laugh too, “Well, you are making progress, in all ‘onesty. I ‘ave managed to teach you somezing.” However, Scott couldn’t help but feel that she probably would be happier actually snowboarding than spending all her time instructing. Evan too. He kept looking down the mountain longingly, forlornly - then turning back to try and convince Kitty to at least stand up again. It was like he was torn, and it was actually pretty funny to watch.

“Angeline, Evan, why don’t you guys take a run down the mountain? We’ll be fine for a second or two,” proposed Jean. It was freaky when she did stuff like that. Did she just think the same as him because they had known each other for so long or did she actually read his thoughts without him knowing sometimes? But she had too much integrity to do that. He hoped. There were some thoughts he had about Jean that he wasn’t exactly comfortable with her knowing.

Evan was about to set down without hesitation but Angeline paused. “Are you sure?”

“Of course,” Scott reassured her, “I mean, what could possibly happen to us in the 60 seconds it’ll take you to snowboard down the mountain and ride the ski-lift back here?”

“All right.” She flashed a quick smile at Evan and they went down the mountain, cutting the fresh powder in little sprays of snow that flew up behind theirs boards as they turned. They were good, there was no denying that, he admired them a little as he watched their decent.

The snow still sparkled though the late afternoon sun had settled in the sky and was on the verge of setting. Scott looked at his watch, dinner was in about an hour and most of their classmates had already gone in to warm up. They basically had the hill to themselves, at least this section anyway. The two blips that were Angeline and Evan had reached the bottom and were now getting on the ski-lift to come back up,

Without warning, a spray of snow hit Scott in the back and went over his head, spilling into his lap. He pulled himself into a standing position, which was not the easiest thing to do considering both of his feet were strapped to a snowboard, and found himself face to face with Lance, whose mouth was twisted with a malicious grin.

“Hey, Summers. What are you doing sitting in the snow?”

“None of your business Alvers. Why don’t you leave?”

“What? You don’t seem as ready to fight as you did this morning.” Lance was right about that - Scott didn’t want to fight, especially with their powers, especially in front of Angeline who was making her way off the ski lift to the little side run that they were on. It wasn’t the brightest of all ideas.

“Just leave before somebody gets hurt.”

“Man, that sounds like a threat to me. Do you suddenly lose your manners once that crackpot professor lets you off your choke chain, Summers?”

“Don’t you ever insult Professor Xavier in front of me again!” That was it. Lance had crossed the line - insult him all he wanted but the professor was like a father to him. He put his hands to his glasses, but hesitated as Evan and Angeline appeared at the top of the run, only maybe ten feet behind where Lance and the rest of the brotherhood (minus Fred) stood. He didn’t want to hurt them too.

Lance sensed his hesitation - his weakness, and saw an opportunity. The ground beneath Scott began to shake and crack, rising up. He fell over hard, his leg bending oddly as he hit the ground, immense pain ripping through it, coming in blinding flashes of red and black passing over him, blocking out all sound in it’s enveloping roar. Lance didn’t seem to have thought about the repercussions of his actions. To Scott’s horror, he noticed that Lance had just caused his namesake, an avalanche.

Scott needed to think but he couldn’t focus on anything but the pain that tore through his body. Red. The wave of snow rushing down toward them. Black. The piece of bone he could see poking out just below his knee. Red. A scream . . . his team? Their team? What did it really matter anymore? Black. Death, they were all going to die. Red. The heat that coursed over him. It was too hot. Snow wasn’t hot. Maybe it was death that was hot. Black. Blackness. The enveloping hold of the dark. Scott felt himself surrender to its warm embrace and passed out . . .

To be continued

I know, cliffhanger, bad Kelly, bad! (Forty lashes with a wet noodle and all that) . . . *attempts to dodge the flames you’re going to send because I think I promised I wouldn’t leave one since the chapter I trapped Lance in the burning warehouse*. Oh well, I think it was a worthwhile cliffhanger. Certainly intriguing anyway. PLEASE REVIEW!!! It’s quite the pretty blue box down there, but oh so empty . . . Chp 10