GT or Flying Car?

February 23, 2015: Scott gets to know his time displaced children better, while Mike offers to build him a flying car. Scott Summers is having a good day.

Xavier Institute

<Location Description>



  • Randall, a student

Mood Music:

It was mid-afternoon and most of the classes at the Institute had been dismissed for the day, the weather was nice even if it was a bit chilly. Not long ago Rachel had arrived back home with Jean, the only place she had ever considered home; The Mansion.

She was pleased to find that she still had a room and after cleaning up quickly and putting her stuff away, not that there was much she rushed off to look for Scott; wherever he might be at this time of day.

It was a struggle, acclimating to life as a school teacher once more. After spending far too much time in the field, his mind rested more upon matters of the X-Men than they did was a school teacher. It's ironic, for one might argue that the value of a school teacher is far greater than the value of a vigilante. The vigilante fights for justice today; the school teacher raises a generation empowered to obliterate injustice at the institutional level.

Such thoughts are paramount upon Scott Summers' mind when he closes the lesson plan and stands from his desk. The ruby glasses are carried with him at all times; there's no knowing when his control will once again wane. Yet, for now, he approaches the windows that overlook the back yard, viewing it all with his own, unshielded brown eyes. The headaches were growing with intensity, but so far, he was willing to fight them off. It was only a matter of time before they became too much for him to handle.

That time has not yet come.

The Mansion. Mike's been here once or twice in the past, with Red Team, but not for any casual reason. Mostly, he was doing horrible things to Hydra. It was fun while they lasted. Today, his reason is that he's bringing a new engine to one Scott "Slim" Summers, a special design for his little red sportscar. He has to deliver it in person because unless Forge or Jeffries are here, he's going to need to make it fit. Because he doesn't actually know what make and model it is. 'Berto didn't bother to tell him that, and it's a surprise. Something about a bet they made.

There are few cars on the road here, because the weather has been terrible due to a nasty Atlantean having a snit, and it's expected to become terrible again, and unlike the situation closer to where people are, out here, there is no frantic traffic getting things done while they can. He's driving a truck, ugly, squat, with a tarp over the engine in the back, and no identifying logo on the side, which is unusual for him; it has a generic license plate, too. And it trudges along up Greymalkin Lane until it reaches the turn-off, then the additional distance… Something is targeting.

"OK,machine, I know you're there. Have an X-Red ID transcode."

Still targeting.

"What? You don't like the Red Team?" Mike pokes at the machine mentally, and it wakes up. 'Target is not in system auth list'

"What? I am too. See?" He sends the ID again.

'Target is not in system auth list. Stand by. Contacting Authorization'

Mike sighs and leans back. Meanwhile, Scott's device-of-preference pings, notifying him that someone at the gate is using an obsolete transcode. Apparently, the new codes didn't get into the Red Team computer yet. Someone must've been busy.

Being a telepath had many advantages, the least of which being able to locate people when you wanted to find them. It didn't take Rachel long to pin down the location of Scott and as someone who had grown up in this very mansion, she knew most of the shortcuts and little hidden areas.

Passing through the halls, she smiles at the students that have been dismissed from classes; recognizing some of them, but there are far too many new and unknown faces for her to know more than a handful.

She doesn't knock or try to hide her presence as she walked into the classroom behind Scott. She had heard how he wanted to look for her and the guilt at not coming back here sooner had eaten her up the entire car ride here with Jean.

She reaches out to Scott mentally, a soft brush of psychic warmth being felt before she says with a gigantic smile, "Daddy, I'm home."

If he doesn't stop her, she's going to rush over and hug him.

Scott's smartphone chirps, drawing him back and away from the window. He snatches it up from his desk, opening the encrypted 'X' app, and frowns when he looks at the notification. "Visual," he requests, calling up a security feed of Mike upon his approach. "Oh, that's Drakos. X-Net, authorization granted."

A female synthetic voice sounds from the phone. "Authorization granted. Thank you, Scott."

"Don't mention it," Scott murmurs to himself while locking the phone and setting it back onto the desk. At this precise moment, he can feel the inexplicable 'good vibes' coming into him, the sort that bears a significant familiarity, in spite of its newness. He looks up with his eyes first, before rising to his full height and smiling brightly upon Rachel's entrance.

Without his glasses, he should be blasting everything in sight. Not so. It would seem that, albeit temporarily, Scott has regained total control of his optic blasts. Thus, he's barely able to move a muscle when Rachel collides with him, instead utterly consumed by what it's like to see her without the constant red haze that comes with his would-be handicap.

"Whoa! Hey, Rachel!" He's so inexplicably happy that he hasn't even considered chiding her for disappearing! Well, not yet, anyway.

'Authorization Granted. You may pass.' the machine says to Mike. He smirks. Now that's a machine-ghost what knows its job. He turns leftwards at the traffic loop past the gate, and moves silently around the curve til he reaches the garage. A quick almost automatic greeting and the garage door opens - it's much less picky, one technomancer is as good as another as far as it's concerned. There it is, in all its dust-cover-enwrapped glory: the Scottmobile. Cherry red, low to the ground, sleek, the removable top in place for the winter just in case.

Mike looks at it and nods. This will be fast enough. The tarp rolls back on his truck, revealing a black toolbox and a shining, sparkling engine. The toolbox uncouples and floats into the air, moving into the garage, where it spills forth a swarm of gold-colored beetle-sized robots, which engulf the pretty red sportscar as if it were Brendan Frazer in the middle of a pyramid.

"OK. Let's compare specs. Don't want Berto's pretty gift to be a downgrade." Mike takes stock of the engine, and nods. It's the engine the car came with. Not bad, perfectly maintained, a touch of wear and tear due to being twenty years old. The body itself is in excellent shape, but there's some metal fatigue here and there, also due to being twenty years old. That part, Mike fixes by talking themetal crystals back into their proper state of controlled disarray, as he waits for the cleaner-bugs to remove the road gunk that builds up. Not much of that, but there are places that can't be reached, and those, he gets as well. The swarm moves back into the toolbox.

"OK. I'm hesitating now. On the grounds that this is a pristine stock engine, he may want it to remain stock. Even if my baby on the truck there would make my favorite SHIELD techies soil their pants."

He opens a line to the telephone switchboard and tells it to call Scott.

Rachel was just a teeny bit nosey when it came to poking into other people's minds with her telepathy, especially those without it; because it never hurt to poke around a little. Right? So that's exactly what she does, poke around a little in her dad's mind.

She lets go of the hug after a few moments, reaching up to touch the taller man's face, "I'm sorry I didn't come back sooner." The explanation of the why/where and what/how would probably wait until Scott chided her over her disappearance.

Scott's mind is certainly overcome. Not only at seeing Rachel again, but seeing her without the protection of ruby-quartz glasses. He also knows, courtesy of Reed Richards, that the condition is temporary. At some point, the effects from his trip into the Negative Zone will go away, and he will be no longer capable of controlling the optic blasts. Just like before. His time to see the world as it really is will be short lived.

Despite the bitterness over such inevitability, the true reason behind Scott's lack of scolding is built upon the fact that he is blessed by seeing Rachel with his own two eyes. He stares at her for a few moments in silence, then merely shakes his head. "I'm… just… glad to see you again. Here, where it's safe."

With yet no idea what is happening to his summer hotrod down in the motor pool, Scott is distracted from Rachel when his phone begins buzzing across the desk with an inbound call from the Institute's switchboard. It buzzes and buzzes and buzzes, before the phone is about to fall off the desk. "Whoop!" He pulls away and reaches out to snatch the phone up before it can fall. Thus, there's a touch of annoyance in his tone when he answers.

"Scott Summers. Who's there?"

"Scott, this is Mike Drakos. Am I interrupting anything?"

While he talks, Mike looks at the engine a bit closer. It could use a ring and valve job. Idly, like someone cleaning his fingernails, Mike's attention wanders over each valve and valve-seat, each ring and cylinder, cracking loose the carbon build-up where it sits, reshaping the metal where it's warped from its proper dimensions. A handful of beetles crawls into the exhaust pipe, making their way past the added-in catalytic converter (that thing needs to be updated, think about it later) and starts collecting the carbon that floats loose inside into a ball. The engine rotates slowly one turn so they can access each of the cylinders.

it is mid-afternoon and at this time Nate is usually in New York. But today it is an exception. He flies back early, too low for radar, and cloaking his presence from non-telepaths with a simple psychic illusion. For telepaths he is still easily noticeably, even the Astral Plane shifts and flares when he is using his power.

A brief telepathic scan reveals the only people that interest him are in the mansion, so he heads there and lands at the door, letting Scott know he is back. Then he steps in, with the intention of getting to his room.

Rachel brightens up noticeably at Scott's words, she's about to say something and then the phone rings and he has to answer. Keeping herself occupied she begins to ruffle through the drawers, cabinets and whatever she can find in the room.

Until she senses Nate telepathically contact Scott. Who the heck? She didn't know Nate but his presence was hard to miss, he almost felt like; family?

«Who are you?» She sends out a telepathic message to Nate Grey.

"It's Mike Drakos." Scott cups his palm over the receiver, speaking to Rachel. "He doesn't make it upstate too often."

Back to the phone. "No, Mike. Not at all. I'm upstairs, in my office." He quirks an eyebrow when Rachel starts going through his stuff. "Uh, wh… why don't you come up?" Yeah, he hasn't actually raised children yet. "Third floor, uh, Hallway B, room 320." No, he hasn't had the luxury. This is all just being thrown at him.

Then there's the telepathic blast that Nate is on his way.

"Yeah, just… get your ass up here, alright?"


Scott puts the phone down and walks over toward Rachel. "Hey, Rachel, slow down. There's something you need to know."

Of course, he has no idea that his time-displaced daughter has already reached out with a telepathic inquiry of his time-displaced… genetic offspring.


"Yeah. Probably isn't ever a good time really." Mike makes the truck move into the garage, while the beetles industriously roll their small balls of carbon through the exhaust system and past the converter. He picks them up as the beetles scuttle back into the toolbox, which floats up onto the truck. And then the dust-covers for the car and the tarp on the truck move back into place, and he's closing the door. Hm. Fine, this is a social visit, no need to wake up the emergency chassis stash … if it's even stillthere. Who knows what the mad techies in the mansion would make of such a thing.

He reaches the front door, talks it into letting him in without alarming anyone, and heads for the office.

It is not be the first time a telepath directly asks Nate who is he, but this time he almost recognizes the telepathic signature. He pauses, turning his head towards Scott's office. « Who wants to kn… Rachel? » There is a flash of surprise. Happy surprise. « I am Nate. Nate Grey. Hold on. Coming. » He turns back, looking for Scott's office

Rachel has no idea who Mike Drakos is, he definitely wasn't a member of the X-Men in her time; which is a good thing as far as she is concerned, since it means things are progressing into a very different future than the one she grew up in.

Rachel puts down whatever random object she was messing with, looking back over at her Scott, "What's up?" She hoped it wasn't something bad, usually when she needed to know something it was never a good thing.

Of course, the whole telepathic conversation with Nate is still going on, multitasking for the win!

<Nate. I've heard a little about you. It will be nice to meet you.>

What little she had heard from Cable (The other Nate) wasn't much, but she did know that they were pretty much siblings; kind of. Having a family this big and all alive? It felt awesome.

When Mike walks in Rachel looks away from Scott for a brief second, waving to the man.

Scott laughs a little, then walks over to take hold of Rachel's hands. "I guess what you need to know is that, well. You sort of have a half brother. Someone from another future, another Earth. Same parents, but… well, I guess that makes him more of a full brother, just, not from our future. Or your future. His future."

Really, Scott shouldn't be the one responsible for explaining all of this. There's got to be someone more qualified.

When Mike comes in, Scott moves away from Rachel, gesturing between the two. "Mike Drakos? Meet Rachel Summers." Following the introduction, Scott takes a step back and folds his arms, content to look at Mike with his own two eyes. The headache is still there but… really, quite easy to forget. He's never seen a mutant with such skin color; in the past, from behind ruby glasses, Mike always just looked… red.

Mike is generally quiet to any telepath who isn't astral. It's something to do with his being one of the ex-biological society, of which there are two to Mike's direct knowledge, along with some natively intelligent machines. Probably a few others around. His brain emulates a human brain insome ways but isn't. A second 'awareness' within his personal field manifests shortly after Rachel waves to Mike, and says silently 'Priority interrupt. Something is interfering with sensor/perception layer. Checksum failed at five points. Probable cause telepathy or illusion power.' The original awareness answers, 'Unknown risk factor. Continue observing, I'm taking social slot.' Which might be perceptible to someone who is either a technopath or a godawful sensitive telepath.

"Hey, Scott… You aren't wearing the shades. Is this a new thing?"

He nods to Rachel, and says, "Pleased to meet you. Quick FAQ, I'm a mutant robot ex-human, I do things with machines." He's used to the "age/sex/powers" thing that some mutants do in Mutant Town after all.

"Hey, Scott, I actually had a reason to be here, but there's a problem. See, Berto had me make an engine …" and that should be enough of a clue that things are going to go odd-wards from here.

Nate comes right behind Mike, hearing what the man says. Mutant robot ex-human? How does that work? No… not important now. He halts at the doorframe and smiles to Rachel, focusing in her face for a few seconds. Then sighs.

"Hey, Red," he greets. He nods to Scott and then offers his hand to Mike. "Nate Grey, just got here." Switch to telepathy: « Did Jean told you about me? Well. I don't really know you. But Idid meet a version of you in another parallel. (I miss her). Good to see you anyway » for a telepath so powerful, he is not very good at focusing clearly his thoughts. Or maybe he is somewhat unbalanced at the moment.

Rachel nods her head to Scott, "God, our family must be really blessed or cursed. I've never heard of anyone else with such a confusing family tree." She grins just a little, even if the last bit was true it was meant as a joke.

Listening to the explanation of the powers, something shes used to she replies as if it's not a thing, "Cool, I'm good with telepathy, TK, that sort of thing. Nice to meet you Mike."

Nate's arrival isn't missed at all, since she's already talking to him. Giving Scott and Mike a chance to deal with their engine business, she approaches Nate.

« Nate- Nathan. Told me about you, just a little and then Dad told me a little more. Wait, you know the other me?»

It's not that Rachel is surprised there is another version of her somewhere out there, she already knew that thanks to the other Nathan (Cable). It's just weird that her other 'brother' knew her as well, given there wasn't exactly a lot of Rachel's out there.

When Mike acknowledges Scott's lack of protective eyewear, he smiles a bit. "Yeah. Bit of a side effect, from the Negative Zone." He doesn't offer a more detailed explanation, even though he knows why it happened, and knows that it's temporary. "Dunno if it'll last long, but, I can't help but enjoy it."

At Nate's entrance, Scott tilts his head in a nod, then glances between he and Rachel for a moment. There's suspicion upon his face that the two might be having a quiet conversation of their own. If they're anything at all like their mother, he's probably right.

"Tell me about it," he murmurs toward Rachel.

Scott looks back toward Mike the moment he brings up the word, 'engine'. "Engine?" He tilts a head and drops his arms, adopting a casual stance that matches the query in his tone. "An engine for what?"

Mike returns the handshake; except for his skin being smooth metal, it doesn't feel any different than a regular human handshake, even having the right 'give' to the skin, and the right temperature.

"Mike Drakos, Red Team. Codename Metal," he explains quietly, distracted from delivering the terrifying news to Scott that Berto wants to Mike to tamper with his ride. Fortunately Berto didn't count on Mike's innate Car Ethics.

"That would be for a red sports car," Mike answers, grinning. "Berto claims it was in response to a bet you guys made. I'm wondering now if he really paid me sixty-five-thou for a flight-capable engine for a sportscar, thinking I'd just put it in without checking first. Because you have a really clean all-original classic ride there. It would be criminal to mess that up without checking first. I'd rather make an entirely new chassis, frankly."

Nate smirks at hearing the all too familiar comments about the weirdness of the family tree. Well, this is their life, what can you do? It is not as if they time-travel or jump between parallel worlds because it is fun.

He turns back to Mike when he mentions Team Red. "Oh, cool. I wanted to meet the Red X-Men, but one thing after another has prevented me to see you. It is great to see some X-Men in the open, in the middle of humankind. Very good idea."

He avoids more telepathic chatter with Rachel with a simple « tell you later? » Multitasking telepathy is not so easy for him, and much less with family, his mind shields tend to fail.


Rachel makes her reply to Nate abrupt, of course she was beyond curious to hear what he had to say. She even wanted to give him a hug, but Mike didn't need to be subjected to gushy Summers-Grey family drama.

The explanation of the engine for the car surprises her immensely, an incredulous look on her face when she asks Scott, "You're not really going to let him…." She trails off, nothing more needed to be said. A flying engine in that beauty? They had the Blackbird for flying transportation.

"A bet?" Scott answers, looking confused at first. "We…" Blink, blink. "Oh."

Seems he just remembered that bet.

Scott continues to stare at Mike, blinking his eyes again and again. At the dollar signs, at the flight-capable engine piece, at the part about modifying his classic GT… "Whoa, whoa, wait a moment. You said —"

A momentary wince, as something from Nate bled over into his mind telepathically. No words, just… a feeling. Overload.

"— you said, 'flight capable'?" He takes a step closer toward Mike. "Are you telling me that Roberto actually paid for you to bring an engine over there that could make my GT fly?"

Based on the look of shock, it's unclear whether Scott approves, or not.

"I'm pretty sure he wasn't paying attention to the price, but he should know my rates for custom work, right? I made his shiny silver car, I made a custom car for his father. Drakos Motors isn't cheap. Anyway, yes. I built an engine that can fly. It'd mean adding new controls though, and that would also mess up that classy chassis," Mike says.

He holds his left hand out, palm up, and a shiny translucent disk emerges from the skin. A hologram forms in the air, showing a sleek black sportscar, similar in design to the GT, but with some differences.

"See, this is whatI'd have put it into. But I can make that look exactly like your GT, if you want to return the prank."

Meanwhile, in Mike's brain, the second awareness is saying 'but, but, but, that guy's full of something weird and tech, can't I look?' and being ignored.

Nate steps back to hear them talk about… a flying car. Sure, why not? On the other hand, he never found the time to get his driving license. And now he doesn't even have a legal identity. Another thing he needs to fix.

Also, there is a familiar throbbing at his left temple. It means the technorganic alien needled he has embedded in his skull is stirring. Damn thing must have been absorbing tons of energy during the Danger Room sessions. Nate didn't expect an attack this early.

Rachel is surprisingly quiet, leaning against the desk with her arms crossed over her chest and an amused smirk on her lips as she observed the pair of men. Wherever this lead, it would be interesting and she didn't really have any input aside from thinking the car looked pretty nice.

She glances over in Nate's direction, extremely eager to get to know him better. He was brand new and shiny to her.

It's probably a good thing that Scott remains blissfully unaware of the things that are taking place in the telepathic and technopathic venue. Otherwise, he might just break and lock down the whole grounds.

Instead, he stares at the holographic image, finding it something to focus on that isn't the strangeness of being in a room with two of his displaced offspring.

"I dunno," he says at long last. "I mean, that machine is a classic. It's almost… almost sacrilegious." Arms folded, he glances back toward Rachel and Nate, considering.

His eyebrows shoot upward.

"What do you kids think?" he asks, using the term 'loosely'. "Preservation of an historic machine, or… flying car?"

"Or you can have both. Seriously. I'm not gonna mess up your car. I'll pull together a chassis that can really take advantage of that engine. I'll bring it over tomorrow," Mike says. "Day after at the latest. Besides, I get the feeling you guys want to talk, and I'm interrupting. So. I've already scanned your GT. This will be a lot more fun than what I had planned."

He grins, and tosses a quick scout salute to Rachel and Nate.

"See you around, come visit the Red Team. We hardly ever bite."

He half-bounces out of the room, and is flying down the stairs and outside to the garage, which is already opening as he approaches, and then the truck moves out, and as the door closes, it stretches and bends and flows into a fairly aerodynamic shape that rockets off to the south, below the radar.

No hesitation. "Flyingcar!" Because really, if you want some junk, at least make it flying. Nate: no appreciation for classics. Or the non-classics. Or for any material possession, really. Attachments to objects make no sense.

He nods at Mike, "sure, good to meet you," he says as the other man leaves. Check with the Red Team is another pending business, but right now not very high among his priorities.

Then he finds at seat and flops down, leaning back and grimacing. A pill is quickly brought out from a pocket and swallowed. He has learned to keep painkillers at hand. "Headache," he semi-explains.

Rachel considers the question for a few seconds, "Uh, have your cake and eat it to! Keep the GT original and let Metal make you the other car to look like the GT and get the one up on the prank." She wasn't sure who would be footing the bill for that, Berto likely.

She approaches Nathan and places a hand on his shoulder, "Are you alright?"

With a grin, Scott looks to Mike. "Looks like you got your answer."

Once Mike has left, Scott walks back around to take his seat at the desk. His brown eyes then fall upon Nate; the mention of a headache had him remembering his own. He frowns, but for the moment, seems content to watch the two as they interact. For the first time, at least, in this dimension.

"I am fine," replies Nate, looking paler than a few minutes ago. "It will pass soon, as always. We both have our scars, hmm?" He looks at her face again. "Just give me a few minutes," not in the mood to give the long explanations right now.

"Scott, are you going to have two cars? One to fly and another to… just look pretty in the garage?" Because, really, once he has a flying car, why would he want a non-flying one?!

He could always give the other to Rachel!

She's concerned for Nate, but she knows better than to pry especially given that they've just met, "Sure thing." She looks over at Scott, her green eyes trying to get a good look into his own eyes. She couldn't really remember seeing him without the visor or glasses in her life, it's not that she didn't notice earlier; it was just a secondary shock to actually seeing him again.

"Well, the GT isn't exactly mine." Scott wouldn't admit this so readily to anyone but family. "It's owned by the Estate." He shrugs. "Guess this means the flying car will be mine, free and clear."

Scott looks between the two from where he's seated. "Professor Richards tells me the reason I can't control my powers is, brain damage. I can only guess it's from the plane crash, when I was a boy. Did your version of, ah, well, of 'me' have the same problem?" It was awkward to speak of his doppelganger in such a way. "He says eventually, the effects will go away. Meaning, I'll need these again." He reaches for the glasses that sit on his desk, tapping them with a finger.

See? Even Scott is burdened by his scars. Up until now Nate didn't really know the story of how Scott came to rely on ruby quartz glasses. "I thought you could… ah, I see. The Cyclops from my homeworld… I don't know. He was missing an eye, anyway."

He stands up with some effort. The headache is receding, but it is not going to go for a while. "I am going to find some coffee. But Ray… we gotta talk soon. Maybe over lunch tomorrow?" He offers in his way out.

Rachel decided there was only one easy way to put this to Scott, "Uh, my you is you Dad, just in the future, a much worse future. What matters is, the events that lead to where I came from were prevented from happening, so my future doesn't exist anymore." - Also, in the future you died when I was young; she leaves that out along with anything else about the future unless pressed.

"Sure thing, go take care of that headache." Rachel lets Nate go without a fuss.

With a scoff, Scott smirks ruefully. "Took the 'Cyclops' thing to a new place, did he?" He shakes his head, saying, "I'll be sure to keep an eye out for…" He breaks, realizing the terrible joke he just made. "… for that."

After bidding farewell to Nate, he rises and walks around the desk so that he can sit down on its corner and look at Rachel.

"This time travel stuff is way over my head, really. It must be weird to see me so young." He's about to ask whether he grows gray hair, when something more pressing comes to mind. Leaning forward, Scott folds his hands and drills Rachel with one of those looks. "Where did you go? What happened?"

Rachel purses her lips at the question, still relishing the fact that she can look into her dad's eyes and he can look back and see her clearly, "A Sentinel from the future pursued me here." She touches her face, the telepathic illusions she keeps up around everyone else dropping so Scott can see the claw shaped Tattoos on her face, "It could track me because of these and it wasn't safe for everyone. I"

She knows she could have asked the other X-Men for help, but it had been her battle and with the power she had then it seemed safer, ".didn't want to lose any of you again so I lead it far away from here with the help of the Phoenix."

Her expression grows sad for a moment and she notes, "While you only think I've been gone months, it's been years for me. I met Nathan when he was a baby and now he's all grown up and so many other crazy things, like I've met other versions of you and other versions of Mom. It was Nathan who saved me and brought me back here, who brought me back home when I was in danger of being lost forever." It was her home now, since her future no longer existed.

"A Sentinel." Scott frowns at the thought, but more so, at what it must have been like for Rachel to be gone so long. The revealed hounds marks only prompt him to raise a hand, touching a finger along her chin, where the tattoos converge and curl.

"I owe Dayspring my thanks." Ironic; his last encounter with Cable involved drilling him regarding the company he keeps. A long sigh is drawn. "Well, I'm glad you're back. Hopefully this Sentinel didn't cause much trouble."

Rachel grins just a little, "Oh, it was nothing I couldn't handle." That was far from the truth, she had been lost in the timestream and nearly killed; but nothing she couldn't handle. Glancing around the classroom, she inquires, "So what's happened around the mansion since I left? Any big adventures or missions? You, ever, make a move on Mom yet?" Yep, she was going there.

"Well," Scott answer, grinning. "I did bring a team of X-Men into the Negative Zone," he explains. "We went with the Fantastic Four. Has to find some kind of rock material… phosphorus, I believe… that was used to create a cure for a mutant virus. Vicious thing. Anyway, we were in the Negative Zone when my eyesight was healed. Made it out in one piece." He grins. "Nothing we couldn't handle."

When Rachel asks whether Scott has put the moves on her mom yet, he finds himself scowling at the younger redhead.

"That's personal, Rachel."

In other words, yes.

"The negative zone? I don't think I've heard of that before." She perks up a little at the mention of the Fantastic Four though, for entirely personal reasons that she remembers are not at all relevant in this timeline, "How are they? I always liked Mister and Misses Richards a lot, back, in the future I mean."

At least she's hearing about cooperation between the FF and X-Men already, it gave her hope for the positive things in the future, "If the negative zone helped your eyesight, could you just take regular trips back there to fix it and keep full control of your powers?"

She doesn't press Scott further on the issue of him and Jean, she just wanted to see them together.

"Reed is a good guy," answers Scott. "Ben Grimm is about as loyal as they come. Sadly, we haven't had a chance to meet Sue or Johnny yet, but.. so, Sue and Reed end up together." He grins, then mocks zipping his lips.

"I'm not sure that's how it works," he offers. "It wreaked havoc with our powers. Roberto went into supercharge… Kitty basically lost her ability… mom started breathing fire, and Hank. Well, Hank sort of…" He leans forward, adopting a whisper. "Ever seen King Kong?"

Rachel smilesfondly thinking back on the Reeds in her universe, "Yeah, they were such an awesome couple. Their son Franklin went to school here, he was a mutant like us. He was also, um, he was really nice." She blushes at the memory, "Well, he wasn't just really nice. He was like my first boyfriend, only real boyfriend I should say." Then the sadness hits, because like everyone else from the future, he was gone.

She moves away from the topic of the Reeds quickly, "Of course I've seen King Kong! We watched it on family movie night at least a half dozen times with all the other classics."

Sadness crosses Scott's eyes, but it's a bittersweet sort of sadness. To think that his daughter ended up with — well, ends up with a man of the Richards line — it's comforting in an odd way.

Before he can really comfort her, however, she's acknowledging that she's seen the film. Now, Scott's not going to give Hank up, aside from raising his eyebrows and nodding in a conspiratorial way. "Don't worry. He got better."

Rachel laughs at the thought of Hank acting like King Kong even if the situation itself sounded dire, "Do you think he would be mad, if I made a King Kong joke next time I saw him?"

Standing up instead of leaning against the desk, she stretches just a little and she puts the illusion back up over her tattoos, they weren't a mark of pride; they were amark of shame.

"I wouldn't recommend it," Scott answers. However, before he can say anything else, there comes a rap at the door. "Come in!"

A young student peeks in, a mutant boy with purple skin. "Mr. Summers?"

"Randall." Scott moves from the desk and ushers the boy in. "Rachel, would you mind excusing us? Oh. Before you go… dinner with mom and I, Wednesday? No, Thursday."

Rachel senses that some kind of urgency is afoot with the young student and nods quickly, "Yeah! Just let me know what day, I'll be around the mansion obviously, since I'm back for good!" She hugs Scott quick and gives him a kiss on the cheek before leaving.

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