GO WEST

Chapter 11: "Circumstances"

When Ric woke up, the house was silent, and that would do just fine. After the tension of his first night back, he was glad to have a little peace and quiet.

He kicked off his covers, rose, stretched, and checked out the room. Everything was just as he'd left it a few weeks ago. Checking in his chest of drawers, he found a pair of sweat pants and put them on. Once suitably dressed, he left the room, left the wing, and wandered toward the kitchen.

Doug was there when Ric arrived, working on a complicated-looking breakfast that involved a toaster oven and three of the four burners on the stove. Ric sat down at one of the barstools and nodded to Doug, who spared him enough of a glance to nod back before getting back to his work. "Good morning," he commented.

"'Mornin'," Ric replied. "Where is everyone?"

At this point, Doug gave him a longer look. "At school. It's Monday, remember?"

"Oh. Yeah. So... why are you still here?"

"I'm taking the day off. I've got lots of work to do."

Ric nodded. "That's cool."

"So, you gonna be sticking around?" Doug asked, straight out. "I'd have asked you last night, but you didn't seem like you wanted to talk much."

"I didn't. It's been a weird couple'a weeks, Ramsey."

At this, Doug actually smiled. "Yeah, you could say that. So, is that a yes or a no?"

"Yeah, it's a yes... if you guys don't mind me hangin' around."

"'Course not. The door was always open, forgotten codes aside. You should probably be aware there have been two very significant changes since you left, though."

"Oh yeah? What are those?"

"You'll find out soon enough. So, how soon you planning on going back to classes?"

Ric gave Doug a blank look. "Dude, I've been gone for three weeks. Wouldn't all'a my profs have dumped me by now?"

"Nope," Doug shook his head.

"Why not?"

"Well, you see," Doug explained, pausing a moment to stir something, "Warlock and I have been going to your professors, picking up your homework for you, and... finishing it. We told them you've been bedridden with some horrible illness, and couldn't leave the house."

"You..." Ric quickly broke off. "You did my homework?"

"Well, Warlock did most of it. He tends to have more spare time than I do, mostly because he doesn't sleep as much."

"Ramsey," Ric said quietly, "what the hell did you go and do that for?"

"Because," Doug replied in an even voice, "we wanted to think you'd come back, and we didn't want you to have wasted the quarter. You're still going to have to take make-up exams and get caught up on your own, but as far as your profs are concerned, you've been making a valiant effort to get through the class in spite of your condition. So don't blow it, okay?"

Ric shook his head, suddenly feeling very small and humble. "Thanks, man."

"Save it. So, you talked to Rahne yet?"

"Not really."

"You going to?"

Ric paused. "I don't know. I saw her last night when I got in..."

"Yeah? And what happened?"

"Well, I said Hey, and she basically said Hey back, and I asked her if she was okay, and she said she'd been alright. Didn't get much further."

"Yeah. Well, tell you what -- I think it'll be sheer hell for all of us here if you two don't talk things out soon. So maybe you should do yourself and all the rest of us a favor, and have the talk."

"What if she wants me to leave again?"

Doug narrowed his eyes at Ric just slightly. "Ric, if you ask me, she never wanted you to leave leave in the first place. Now, looks to me like you either get your shit together and straighten things out, or you can look forward to tiptoeing around the house with the rest of us waiting for the other shoe to drop."

There was something different about the way Doug looked, Ric noticed. Maybe it was the way his face had remained so impassive during the whole conversation. Still, his words were terse, even if he was trying to be helpful. It was weird to hear Ramsey encouraging him, even in this sort of ass-backwards way.

"How's the bug running?" Doug asked at length.

"Pretty good," Ric answered. "At least, now it is. I, ah, bashed up one of the fenders pretty bad, though."

Doug nodded carefully, turning his attention back to his cooking. It was then that Ric pinned down exactly what was making him look so weird.

"Hey, Doug, when did you start wearing glasses?"

"Couple of weeks ago," Doug replied, taking off his glasses and looking at them. "It turns out the reason things have been looking so fuzzy in the distance since I got rebuilt is that I've got slight myopia."

"My-what-ia?"

"Nearsightedness. Usually I only wear the glasses when I'm driving, but I'm trying to get more comfortable with them. If I were you, I'd go to an optometrist and get checked out."

"What for?"

"Well, I never had this before, and my eyes were modeled after yours when I was reconstructed, remember? If you had it, Rachel might have given it to me by accident, too."

"Dude, I don't need glasses," Ric frowned, shaking his head.

"Suit yourself," Doug shrugged. Then, all of a sudden, he looked away down the hall and smiled. "Good morning!"

Ric turned to look in the same direction, and saw a tall, thin girl with waist-length red hair standing in the area where the hallway merged with the dining room. She was wearing one of Doug's robes and a look of curiosity. In the vicinity of her feet walked a huge purple cat, about the same size as a tiger. And it was looking at him.

"Bonjour, Douglas," the redhead smiled, vaguely, before she, too, looked at Ric. "Have we met..? Oh, you must be Ric."

"Uh, yeah," Ric nodded, glancing from the redhead to the big cat. The latter padded up to him and sniffed his bare feet.

"Ric, this is Marie-Ange Colbert," Doug offered, pointing to the girl. "And that's Sharon, but she likes to be called Catseye."

Catseye looked up at Ric with huge eyes, then right there in front of him, her entire body changed, and she stood up on two legs to look down at him. She was even taller than the other girl now, but still had the purple eyes, and apparently even a tail. "Are friend, yes?" she asked him, in what could only be described as a furry voice.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I'm a friend. Nice to meet you. Catseye."

She smiled at him, then padded into the kitchen to give Doug a hug. "Morning, goldenmane!"

"Good morning, Sharon. How're you feeling, Angie? Can you move okay?"

"Oui, it's difficult, but I'm managing," Marie-Ange replied, taking a seat at the kitchen table with some effort. "It's like waking up sluggish after a long sleep."

"Which isn't too far off the mark," Doug nodded.

Ric shot Doug a desperate look, still trying to figure this out. Seeing this, Doug's smile actually got a little deeper. "These are the two very significant changes I told you about," he explained. "They'll be staying here with us for a while."

"Oh. Cool."

"So, is everyone up for breakfast?" Doug asked the group.

University of California, San Diego
Monday, 15 November 1993 12:50 pm PST

"Miss Blackeagle, may I see you for a moment?"

Dani had been about to exit the room along with the rest of the class, but at her professor's request, she stuck around while everyone else filed out. She sat down in a front-row desk, right next to the front podium, and set down her pack.

Once the class was gone, Dr. Wood took a deep breath, let it out halfway, then regarded her. "Sometimes I get the feeling you're bound and determined to completely discredit me as an instructor, Erica."

"No, not really," Dani shrugged, unzipping her pack and pulling out a pair of rollerblades. "I think you're a great teacher, in that you get your ideas across, you make things interesting, and you can keep the attention of the average college student -- that's no mean feat, you know. The only problem is, well... you're wrong on a lot of your data."

Wood flushed just a bit. "Miss Blackeagle, I've been a professor of Native American Studies for fourteen years."

"And I've been a Native American for twenty-one," Dani said back, "so don't go trying to pull rank on me. Now, admittedly, I don't know every little thing about every single tribe, but I know enough to know that you can't trust most books, and you can't trust anthropologists." She took her shoes off one by one, and stuffed them into her pack.

"I take exception to that remark," said Wood.

"Don't take it personally, Professor," Dani assured him. "Trust me, I'm just as bad in all of my other classes. Y'see, I'm an anthropologist's worst nightmare; I'm a debunker. You know the problem with the field these days? You people trust every written word, including some of the most questionable observations. You get these Joe Hotshot anthropologists who go out there, study an 'ethnic' group for a little while, often from a considerable distance, and all of a sudden they think they know more about those people's lives than the poor savages know about themselves. And you know what? I think about 95% of what I've read in antrho books is complete crap." She began to lace up the rollerblades, starting with the left foot.

"Miss Blackeagle, we aren't evil," Wood chided her. "We're human beings, trying to understand the lives of other human beings. I'm certain we do make mistakes, but we are doing everything in our power to bring a greater understanding of these different cultures to the students."

Dani finished with the other blade, zipped up her pack, and set it across one shoulder. "I'm sure you think so. But more often than not, I'm finding that you guys are just spreading a different kind of ignorance. Mind you, I've seen some exceptions. I've read some stuff that's really sensitive to the issues -- that doesn't hold itself apart with its precious 'intellectual distance,' and just gets to the heart of the matter. There are some good anthropologists out there, who are really making a difference in how people relate to other cultures." Here, she stood, not wobbling on the blades in the slightest. "That's the kind of anthropologist I plan on being, Dr. Wood," she smiled. "It'll help make up for the others."

"I see," Wood nodded, cautiously. "Well, I suppose I can't begrudge you your beliefs."

"That's good to know," she smiled, slowly rolling toward the door. "You'd be getting an even bigger earful otherwise."

As she was about to go, Wood called out again. "Miss Blackeagle?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't suppose you'd be interested in being a T.A. for the anthro department?"

She grinned over her shoulder at him. "I'll think about it. 'Bye."

Then she was gone, skating out of the room, out of the building, and into the sunshine, getting her pack secure on both shoulders. With that class out of the way, she had an hour break for lunch before the next. Lazily, she skated down the crisscrossing sidewalks of the campus, taking care to avoid running into anyone. Most people seemed to instinctively get out of her way; having a woman of over six feet in height (made even taller by the wheels) rolling your way can be more than a little intimidating.

Just for fun, when she came to an open quad area, she did a couple of turns, and even went backwards for a while, just enjoying the feeling of motion. She hadn't been able to make it to the ranch over the weekend due to their unexpected visitors, and she'd missed being able to fly with Brightwind. This motion wasn't at all the same, but it made her feel good.

After she'd wasted enough time with that part of it, she rolled out of the quad, back in the direction of the nearest commons. Today seemed like a perfect day for some of their deep-dish pizza...

Somehow, she got the impression that someone was following her. She looked back, and saw another skater there, gliding along in her tracks. He was a pretty tall black man wearing a tank top and jeans, and even from this distance, Dani could tell that he had short hair and a nice build.

"Warlock," she smiled to herself. Occasionally, she and Warlock ran into each other on campus at lunchtime, when the latter wasn't putting in extra time at the library or the computer lab. Now, he seemed to be emulating skates in order to follow her.

Feeling mischievous, she decided to lead Warlock on a little chase. Bearing down, she pumped her legs faster to build up speed, and zipped along the pathways, making a sharp turn to run them over toward the dorms. He followed behind her, unerringly.

"Pretty good, 'Lock," she nodded. "Try this, now."

She led him over a perilous slalom course that circled the dorms and eventually brought them back around into the main body of Revelle College. Still, he managed to stay with her the whole way. When she looked back and saw him still there, she grinned and flashed him the thumbs-up. Then, just to make things really interesting, she skated up to the top of a short staircase, and when she saw that no one was on it, she skated right off, kicking her legs out either way as she sailed into the air, then came down unerringly on both skates. He followed, though his landing was a little wobbly.

From there, it was only a short distance to the commons, and Dani took it slowly, then turned around to applaud him. "Nice going!" she laughed.

He skated up closer, and to Dani's shock, she realized that he was not, in fact, Warlock. "Damn, you don't take it easy, do you?" he smiled, the smile becoming more of a grimace as he shifted his weight from one skate to the other.

"Hey, sorry. I just figured that I'd give you an interesting route to follow." She tried not to let her surprise show on her face.

"Yeah, you did that just fine."

"I'm Erica, by the way," Dani added, realizing that he wouldn't know.

"Nice to meet you," he nodded, giving her a mock bow. "I'm Ben. You come here often?"

"Only when I'm hungry. You?"

"Oh, yeah, all the time."

Dani's smile deepened. "C'mon, let's go in. Wanna split a deep-dish pizza?"

University Towne Center, La Jolla CA
Monday, 15 November 1993 1:18 pm PST

Doug popped open the trunk of the BMW and loaded in the bags that he'd been carrying. "Well, this is a pretty good start, anyway," he commented to Marie-Ange, who was standing off to his side.

"I'm not used to having to rebuild a wardrobe," she sighed. "It hasn't been proving to be easy.

Doug closed the trunk, and the two headed back through the parking lot to the main body of the mall itself. Doug paused a moment to once again gauge her height with his own. "No, I guess it can't be for someone as tall as you are. You didn't hit six feet, did you?"

"Not quite," she smiled self-consciously. "You can imagine how much worse it is for Sharon, though."

"I'll ask Dani how she manages," Doug proposed, but then reconsidered that. "Come to think of it, Dani wears a lot of men's jeans and such, and that doesn't seem like your style."

"Perhaps not."

Doug checked his watch. "Okay, we've got a little over half an hour until we're meeting Sharon at the food court. Anyplace else you'd like to check out?"

"I think that..."

Her voice quickly trailed off, though, and she suddenly listed very sharply to one side, catching onto Doug's shoulder for support. Doug was startled, and instinctively reached to steady her, placing both hands on her waist and helping her stay upright. "Are you okay?" he asked her, looking concerned.

She nodded vaguely. "I believe I should sit down," she whispered.

"Oh! Oh, right, of course," Doug grimaced, quickly leading her to one of the benches scattered throughout the outdoor section of the mall. She leaned rather heavily against him, taking deep breaths to try to dispel her dizziness. Doug helped her to sit down, and she brought both hands to her face, taking one deep breath after another.

"I'm sorry," Doug apologized. "I guess this is still a lot of work, isn't it?"

"I'll be alright," she replied. When she took her hands from her face, though, she had a look of regret, mixed with a deep resentment.

"Angie, what's wrong?" Doug asked her, softly.

"It's so... frustrating. Three weeks ago, I was in peak physical condition, and now I can scarcely walk."

"Hey, even to be able to do that is pretty impressive after what you went through. You can't expect to recover all in a day. It'll take time, but you'll get better. Honest."

She took one of his hands, gave it a mild squeeze, and smiled. "Merci, Douglas. I appreciate that."

"De rien, chère," he shrugged, amiably. "I'll help you anyway I can."

"Je te crois," she nodded, briefly slipping back into her native French. "To be honest, I... am not used to having someone to lean on, other than Sharon, Jennifer, and Mam'selle Frost. I am not used to... needing that. I have so often needed to be strong."

"I'm here if you need me," Doug assured her.

She smiled at this, but Doug could tell that there was still sadness left unspoken in her eyes. "What else?" he asked her.

"The most frustrating part of all," she began, taking a deep breath and then letting it out in a sigh, "is that it seems I've worked so hard, for these many years now, only to have it all collapse around me. Before this... happened, I was less than two months away from a triple Masters degree. I'd even finished two of my three theses already. I worked so much for my future and now... I fear I have none."

"Because you can't go back to the Academy?" Doug asked, carefully.

She nodded. "Oui. I do not dare."

"Why not?" he asked, gently. "I know you didn't want to think about it last night, but can you tell me now?"

There was a long silence, as she pondered this. Doug waited patiently for her reply, watching the shoppers go by. After a thoughtful pause, she looked around as well, and when satisfied that no one was near enough to be listening, she leaned very close, and told him.

In all, the telling took less than a minute.

By the time she was finished, Doug had gone white. "Oh," he said in a tiny voice. "Oh. Yes. Well, that does put things in perspective, doesn't it?"

She nodded. "Oui. C'est vrai."

After another pause, Doug shook his head. "But dammit, that isn't your fault!"

"I know that," she nodded again. "And there you have the heart of my frustration. My life and Sharon's life have been ruined by this, and yet we did not bring this upon ourselves. What would you have done, given the same circumstances?"

"The same thing," Doug replied, quietly. "Damn."

"And that, mon ami, is why we cannot return."

Doug very carefully (and hesitantly) put his arms around her and gave her what he hoped was a reassuring hug. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"I wish there were more we could do," she said, her voice cracking.

"Well... maybe there's something I can do, then."

They broke, and she looked into his eyes. "What?" she asked, simply.

"I'll show you when we get home."

UCSD, Revelle College 1:26 pm PST

By the time Rahne tracked Dani down in the commons, she was quite surprised to find her sitting at a table sharing a pizza, as well as a very lively conversation (lost amidst the noise of the commons), with a rather handsome black man who didn't appear to be Warlock.

"H'lo, Dani," she smiled, scooting herself in to take a seat beside her friend.

"Hey, Kenna!" Dani grinned back, reaching around to give her a one-armed hug. "How you been, kiddo?"

Rahne looked momentarily abashed for having used Dani's real name in front of a stranger, but she recovered quickly. "I've been better," she sighed. She then gave Dani a questioning look, indicating her companion.

"Oh, yeah," Dani smiled, remembering the introductions. "Ben, this is my very good friend Kenna MacTaggert. Kenna, this is Ben... Aldridge, was it?"

"Aldridge," Ben nodded, smiling amiably. "So who's Dani?"

"That's my middle name," Dani shrugged, nonplussed. "I sort of use it interchangeably with the other." She then turned back to Rahne. "Anyway, it turns out Ben here is a fellow anthro major, and has a lot of the same evil profs as I do."

"Ah, I see," Rahne nodded.

"Wait, are you an anthro major too?" Ben asked, looking at her as though trying to remember if he'd seen her before.

"No," Rahne shook her head. "Pre-med."

"Oh!" Ben nodded, eyes somewhat wide. "That's cool."

"Yeah, she's the genius of the house," Dani smiled, ruffling Rahne's hair. "So, what's new with you, sweetie?"

For a moment, Rahne could not answer. She was not used to Dani being so open around strangers. "Ah... well, I was... jus' wond'rin..."

"Is it about Ric?" Dani asked, face suddenly filled with concern.

"Aye," Rahne frowned, giving Dani an imploring look.

Dani caught the meaning from her thoughts, and then nodded. "Right. Ah, Ben, I really hate to break this up, but she and I need to have one of those woman-to-woman things, if you know what I mean."

"What's up?" Ben asked, looking concerned. "Who's this Ric guy?"

"Kenna's ex," Dani explained, as Rahne, wide-eyed, tried to shush her with her expression. Dani went on, nonetheless. "He walked out on her a few weeks ago, and now he's back."

"Walked out?" Ben repeated, looking genuinely disgusted. "Walked out on a smart, beautiful girl like you? The man's lost his mind, ladies."

Rahne looked caught between mortified by having her personal life discussed at the table and flattered by Ben's comment. "Really, we can talk later, if ye wish..."

"Nonono, this is important," Dani assured her, giving her a pat on the arm. "I'll see you in class on Wednesday, okay, Ben?"

"You know it," he replied, giving her a smile. "Try not to kill off any of the profs yet, though, okay?"

"That'll be a stretch. C'mon, kiddo, let's go."

Dani got to her feet, still wearing her rollerblades, and made her way to the door, hoisting her pack up onto her shoulders. Rahne followed, giving Ben a confused wave goodbye as they went.

They left the commons and headed out to one of many grassy areas on the campus, where they found an unoccupied cement bench beside the concrete walkway. Dani sat down awkwardly, then started stretching her legs. "So what's up, Rahney?"

"Dani, who was that man?"

Dani shrugged. "A guy I formally met maybe half an hour ago. He's in a lot of my classes, but I never knew his name until today."

"Then..." Rahne looked exasperated. "Why did ye tell him about Ric, an' me, an'..?"

"Because he seemed like a nice enough guy, and because boyfriend trouble is something pretty common these days, like it or not. It's not like I was telling him that you can turn into a wolf or anything."

Rahne took an involuntary look around, but saw that no one could have been close enough to hear. "Why were ye bein' so friendly with him, if ye only just met him today?"

"Rahney, he's cute!" Dani replied, giving her a mildly surprised look.

"Aye, but Dani, he's... och, never mind."

"I thought we were going to talk about Ric," Dani suggested, getting the conversation back on track.

"Aye," Rahne repeated. "Dani... has he come back t' stay?"

"Doug and I think so. He kind of gave us the impression last night that he was just getting back from somewhere, not that he was on his way somewhere... Does that make any sense?"

"I b'lieve so..." she considered, but didn't look entirely convinced.

"So... what are you going to say to him?"

Rahne's look of vague, impending panic returned. "What can I say t' him?" she asked, desperately. "Dani, I'm so afraid that if I try, I'll get angry with him, and I'll get him angry with me, and drive him away again."

"So, what are you going to do? Stay here all day and not face him?"

"That had crossed m' mind," Rahne admitted.

"Rahne, this may sound shallow, but if he leaves again, maybe that would be for the best. After all, if he'd rather run away than try to work things out with you... sweetie, you deserve better than that. But maybe he'll surprise us and get his act together. Maybe he's back because he's sorry."

"Aye, but is he? Sorry, I mean?"

Dani put her arm across Rahne's shoulders, and let her smaller friend lean on her. "I don't know, kiddo. That's what you're going to need to find out."

After a while, Rahne spoke again. "This is nae goin' t'be easy, is it?"

"Nothing like this ever is."

McAudry house, 4:35 pm

After a couple of hours of highly illegal activity, Doug was ready to roll. Poised over the keys of his customized PC like a concert pianist, he watched the monitor carefully, and waited for his cue.

The screen displayed the message that his download was complete. With a smile, he turned back to Marie-Ange, sitting on the bed, and gave her the OK-sign. "We're set."

"What exactly are we doing?" she asked, looking over his shoulder at the screen.

"Well, setting up a false identity is a tricky process. I need to go into DMV records, school records, hospital records... I have to basically make sure all the bases are covered. We're going to pretty much re-create you, with a new name and a new background. The government does it all the time, for witness relocation or the like. I did it for all of us so that we could go on with our lives and not have to be connected with Xavier's. By the time I'm finished, there'll be no connection between the new you and the MassAc whatsoever. Same with Sharon."

Almost on cue, at the sound of her name, Catseye came into the room in cat-form. She placed her front paws up onto the back of Doug's chair and rested her chin on his shoulder. "Hello, goldenmane! Have reached fun part yet?"

"Ah... yeah, this would be as good a time as any," Doug nodded, a bit startled by her sudden appearance. "The first thing I'll need from you are your new names."

"New names..." Marie-Ange considered. "Mon dieu, I've honestly never given any thought to anything of this kind."

"Think of anything," Doug shrugged. "Isn't there any other name you always liked, or wished you had? I used my middle name. Maybe you could go with something like 'Angelique.'"

"That sounds perhaps a bit pretentious," she smiled.

"Any more pretentious than 'Angel Mary?'"

"That was my mother's idea, not mine," she chided him. "I've always been somewhat fond of the name 'Mireille,' though."

"Mih-rey," Sharon repeated phonetically, testing it out. "Is pretty."

"Yeah, and we could call you 'Miri,' if it wouldn't bug you too much."

"I have no idea at all what to use for my nom de famille," Angie went on, with a slight shrug. "Colbert has always been my name; I have no other to take."

"Catseye would like a French name too, redhair," Sharon grinned. "What is French for 'cat?'"

"'Chat,'" Doug and Marie-Ange answered together. Marie-Ange went on to say "Or 'chatte,' for a female cat. You've heard me call you that before, haven't you?"

"Ooohyes, Catseye remembers, but did not know it meant 'cat.' Can use that for name?"

Doug exchanged glances with Angie. "I don't think it would make a great first name, Sharon," Doug said, delicately.

"Last name, then?" she asked, brightly.

"Here we are," Marie-Ange put in. "For your last name, why not 'LaChatte,' which would mean 'the cat.'"

Catseye's eyes went wide. "Is nice! Needs first name though... um... what is French word for 'frost?'"

"Well, the most common is 'gylée,'" Marie-Ange considered.

"Would be good name?" Sharon asked.

"Well... I guess we could call you Jill for short," Doug shrugged, but he didn't seem too keen on the name.

"'Gylée LaChatte," Marie-Ange repeated. "Perhaps you should think of something more... catty, such as... 'Leona.'"

"Yes!" Catseye gasped. "'Leona LaChatte,'" she grinned, looking altogether pleased with herself.

"We can even call you 'Lea,' if that works for you," Doug added.

"'Lea LaChatte,'" she considered again. "Yes. Love it. Will be Catseye's new name, yes?"

"Sure, that'll work," Doug nodded, typing it onto the screen. "How about you, Miri?"

Marie-Ange smiled at his use of the new name. "Perhaps if Sharon is to be the cat, I shall be the bird. 'Mireille L'oiseau.'"

"I like it," Doug smiled, starting to type. "Ah... with or without an apostrophe?"

She considered this. "Without, I believe," she said at length. "I've had a hyphenated name all my life, and computers are forever making a mess of it. We needn't add any punctuation to this name."

"Excellent. Okay, the first thing I'll get is California driver's licenses for you," Doug went on. "The DMV was nice enough to start using digitized pictures on their licenses, and storing those pictures in a mainframe somewhere. I'll take some digitized shots of you here and we'll make some files for you."

"Pictures?" Marie-Ange asked, quizzically.

Doug rummaged around his computer desk, pulled an odd-looking camera out of a drawer, and started hooking it up to the back of his PC with a cable. "Yeah, this is one of my toys," Doug explained as he connected the cable. "I used it for all of ours, too. Let me boot up the program in another window, and we'll be set."

"You're going to take our license pictures now?" she asked, still not entirely sure what he meant.

"Sure! No time like the present." From behind the desk, he pulled out a large piece of posterboard that had been lying between the desk and the wall. He handed it to Sharon. "Catseye, I'll need you to hold this behind her, okay?"

Catseye looked at the paper, shrugged, and then complied, shifting into her human form to accept it. She then held it behind Marie-Ange's head.

Doug raised the camera and pointed it at Marie-Ange. "Okay, don't smile too much. This is a DMV picture, after all." Once he had her face suitably framed, he snapped the picture.

After a moment of processing, a digitized photo-image of her somewhat bewildered face formed on his screen. Here, the light dawned for her. "Ah, I see now," she nodded. "This will be the... yes, that was silly of me."

"Not silly at all," Doug shrugged, getting back to his seat. "Okay, vitals. Red hair... I think I should put your eyes down as being blue, okay? Grey's not exactly commonplace."

"That's fine."

"Okay, height and weight?"

"Five feet, eleven inches, one hundred thirty-five pounds."

Doug looked back at her, as if confirming this. "Okay. Current address will be listed as here, and date of birth... November first... ah, seventy-three, right?"

"Very good," she smiled.

Doug's features fell. "We missed your birthday," he frowned. "For that matter, so did you."

"Yes," she nodded.

"Catseye remembered," Sharon nodded, "but redhair was sleeping, and would not wake..."

"I'm sorry, Sharon," Marie-Ange sighed. "But I'm awake now."

"Yes," Catseye said, the huge grin returning. "Is good news."

"Okay, Sharon, I'll need your vitals, too. Height and weight?"

"Six-three, one-seventy," Sharon recited.

"One-seventy?" Doug repeated. "But you look so... skinny."

"Is all muscle, goldenmane," she grinned.

"I can imagine. Okay, hair and eyes... Oh. Hmmm."

"Is problem?" Sharon asked.

"Well, yeah. Lavender hair and eyes are pretty unique. For that matter... Sharon, you're going to be a spectacle on campus as it is, just because of how tall you are. We'll have to disguise your hair and eyes somehow."

"Catseye will wear shades, yes?"

Doug thought about this. "Yeah, that covers the eyes, but... you have to admit, that hair's really distinctive. Could you... I don't know, braid it?"

"No," she replied, shaking her head. She came over to him, bent to take his hand, then placed it on the back of her neck. "Feel."

Doug did so. Her hair was very thick, more like fur than anything else. It was not unlike Rahne's in that respect. Then, he noticed that to which she'd been referring. Her hair appeared long from even close-up, but by running his fingers through it, he realized that it was in fact only a few inches in length. It only looked long, because the hair grew all the way down her neck, and onto her back. There were hair follicles present almost all the way down to her shoulder blades.

"That's. Neat."

Marie-Ange smiled at Doug's reaction. "Oui. This is why she hates wearing high collars."

Doug gave Sharon's mane one last stroke before he got back to the problem at hand. "I can give it false color in the DMV shot, but we'll need to figure out another way to do it in real life."

Catseye cocked her head to one side, thinking about this. "Catseye has good plan," she nodded, then. "Trust Catseye. Will be okay."

"Okay, then what color should I put down on the license?"

"Black," Catseye nodded. "And blue eyes."

"Right." Doug typed this in. "Date of birth, then?"

"March twelfth."

"What year?"

Catseye did not answer for a long time, and when Doug looked at her, she seemed to be undergoing a massive internal struggle. At last, biting one corner of her lip, she said "Put down same year as redhair, please."

"Ah, sure. Seventy-three it is. Do you not remember the real year?"

"Just put seventy-three, please." She forced that look off her face, then, and smiled. "Will take picture now?"

"Sure," Doug smiled back. "Angie, just take the posterboard and hold it there..." He picked up the camera and aimed it at her. "Okay, don't show the fangs, now. Here we go."

After snapping the picture, Doug brought it up on his monitor. He then quickly went to work with a mouse and started making subtle changes, such as making her hair black, and changing not only the color, but the composition of her eyes. When he was done, the picture was still very much Sharon, but suitably disguised.

"Ooh! Very nice!" Catseye gasped, looking very closely at the monitor to see this other self.

"Okay, now I need to do the technical part," Doug nodded. "I'm afraid this'll be pretty boring."

"Ah," Catseye nodded. "Will go fetch water to drink, then."

Losing interest as quickly as a real cat, she padded out of the room, her steps echoing in the hallway outside. Doug exchanged glances with Marie-Ange, then got back to work. Catseye came back a while later with two bottles of Evian, one of which she offered to Marie-Ange.

Before long, Doug was finished. "Okay. As far as the DMV knows, you two have had licenses since you were sixteen and seventeen, respectively, and you got them in two different towns. I've put in notice that both of your current licenses were stolen, and I've charged the replacement cost to my charge card. Your new ones will be in the mail later this week."

"C'est incroyable," Marie-Ange breathed. "It was as easy as that?"

"Well, I wouldn't call it easy," Doug shrugged, trying to be at least somewhat humble, "but it's done now."

"Wait, goldenmane," Catseye said, raising one hand as though she were in a classroom. "So, redhair and Catseye will be able to drive rollers?"

"Yep. Technically, you're legal even now."

"Ah," Catseye nodded. She then paused in thought. "Does goldenmane have car with gears 1, 2, 3, 4 and R, and with three pedals?"

"A stick-shift? Yeah, the beemer's a stick."

"Ah," Catseye repeated. "Um... will goldenmane teach Catseye to drive stick-shift, please?"

McAudry House, 6:12 pm

Rahne looked up from her book as the door to her room opened, and Ric came in, showing no small amount of reluctance. She set the book down and just watched him. It took him a moment to meet her eyes, but then their gazes locked.

"We need to talk," he said to her at great length.

She nodded. "Aye."

Of course, neither of them could find a thing to say. Ric considered his options very carefully, opened his mouth, and said what was probably one of the worst possibilities, given the circumstances.

"Why did you want me to leave?"

Rahne's face gradually creased into a look of shock. Right away, he was putting her on the defensive. "I didnae say I wanted you t' bloody well run away for three bloody weeks!" she practically yelled. "I didnae say I never wanted t'see ye again!"

"Yes, you did! You told me to go away, a whole bunch'a times!"

"I told ye t'leave me alone!"

"You didn't want me around."

"Right then, no! Rictor, I was hysterical! I couldnae even think past what I'd done! I had t'be alone for a time! But when I told ye I wanted t'be left alone, I didnae mean forever!"

"Well, it sure sounded like it," he shook his head. He found a chair, sat down, and glared at her. "You made me feel like the scum of the earth, you know that?"

"Rictor, I made a mistake," she told him in a low, quavering voice. "An' I canna be sure anymore whether the fault was mine, or whether those thoughts were... given t'me, but the fact remains that I made a mistake. We shouldna' have... done... what we did."

"Oh," Ric nodded, in a sarcastically understanding tone. "So you wish you'd never gone to bed with me, is that it? Great, that's wonderful, that makes me feel so much better!"

"Rictor, I'm sorry if it sounds that way, but for heaven's sake, I... wasna' m'self that night! It's not that I didna'... want you, it was just too bloody soon!"

"Too soon?" Ric repeated, eyes wide. "Rahne, we were together for months!"

She gaped at him, her own eyes as wide as his. "And what does that have t'do with it?"

"Well, you know, this kind of thing happens when you're together that long!"

"That's nae true! 'Tis not for me, at any rate!"

"Oh, so now she gets her religion back. Jesus, Rahne, why'dja have to do this to me? You wanted me as much as I wanted you!"

Rahne stood up very slowly, then came across the room and raised the index finger of her right hand to him. In a deep, growly voice resembling that of her half-wolf shape, she spoke. "Ye'll not take the Lord's name in vain t'me, Rictor. And why, why is everythin' my fault? Why is this all somethin' I did t' you?! You're the one that left, and ran away from me when I needed ye!"

Ric stood as well, so that now he was looking down at her. "Well, you sure didn't act like you needed me!"

She threw up her hands, exasperated, and backed a few paces away from him. "I was beside m'self! All the while we were t'gether, I told ye that I loved t'hold ye, and t'kiss ye, and even t'sleep next t'ye at night, but there w's one step I wouldna' take until joined in the Lord's sight. I told ye that, but ye conveniently f'rgot when I wasna' m'self!"

"Weren't yourself? So I guess it was that Manuel guy's fault? Fine! I'll go an' find him, and finish kicking his ass for him!"

"He's dead, Ric," Rahne grated, her voice like acid.

This actually made Rictor pause. "He's dead?"

"He went back t'his school, and someone killed him an' kidnapped our two new guests. They got away an' came here."

"Shit," Ric said quietly. "Fine. Well, he got what was comin' to him."

Rahne shook her head at him. "Did ye never stop t'think that p'rhaps there w's somethin' unnatural about what I did? Have I ever done anythin' like that b'fore?"

"Hey, have you ever thought that he mighta been doin' his little game on me, too?"

She gaped at him. "What?"

"Can you tell whether or not he used his power on you to make you wanna have sex with me?"

Very slowly, she shook her head. "I canna be sure," she whispered. "The man was a serpent, an' ye often ne'er knew if he'd bitten ye or na'."

"Well, then how do you know he wasn't making me come on to you, too?"

Her mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, then she turned around. "I can't."

"Yeah," Ric nodded, feeling that somehow, he'd made some headway. "Me neither."

She looked around at him, tears beginning to fall from her eyes. "Why did ye come back here, Ric?" she asked.

The words were like a cold slap. "What, you want me to leave again?"

"No," she shook her head. "Just why did ye come back?"

Ric looked down at his shoes, then at the wall, and finally, at his shoes again. "Because I love you."

Silence fell over the room, broken only by the sound of Rahne's ragged breathing.

"An' I suppose ye sayin' those words t'me now makes everythin' alright?" she asked, almost bitterly.

"No," he shook his head. "I should'a said 'em before."

There was another silence, and Ric slowly crossed the room to stand behind her. He raised his hands to place them on her shoulders, then hesitated. "Look," he said, "I'm sorry... that this happened this way. I wish it could'a been different. I thought we were doin' somethin' that both of us wanted. I didn't wanna have sex with you, I wanted us to make love. There's a big difference, y'know."

She seemed neither to agree nor disagree. "What's done is done."

"Yeah, but... Rahne, I really felt it. Not the sex, the love."

Here, at last, she nodded. "Aye... So did I. I... couldna' have done that had I not loved ye."

He went ahead and laid his hands on her shoulders, then. For a long time, neither of them said a word.

"It canna ever be the same between us, Ric," she told him.

"Is there still a 'between us,' then?"

"I... I'd like t'think there could be."

"Yeah, me too. Rahney, if you wanna try to work this out, I'll try, too. Even if it can't be the same, it can still be good, can't it?"

"I'd... like t'think that, too." She turned around and looked up at him. "But slowly. We... we'll have t'be ready to wait a long time."

"Hey," he whispered, reaching up to brush the tears from her cheeks. "However long it takes, it'll be worth the wait. Promise."

Later that evening, for the first time, seven mutants gathered at the dining room table for the evening meal. It was awkward at first, being that many of them were somewhat new to one another, and at the very least, had never, all seven, been together in this context.

Nonetheless, in Doug's eyes, it went well. In spite of her catty side, Sharon turned out to have excellent table manners, thanks to her time at the Academy. Marie-Ange looked awake and aware, and perhaps even happy. And Rahne and Rictor, heaven help them all, were even sitting together, occasionally looking at each other and not exactly smiling, but looking as though they would be again one day. Dani was enjoying the atmosphere, and smiling distantly an awful lot, while Warlock was no end of cordiality.

Doug looked around the table, and realized that in spite of everything that had happened, and everything that could still happen, the seven of them just might make it after all.

Mindful of this, he stood up, his water glass in hand. "I think now's as good a time as any to propose a toast."

"Let's hear it," Dani nodded, picking up her own glass.

"Well, we've got several different reasons to toast, here," Doug went on. "First of all, Ric's back. Good to have you back, man."

"Thanks," Ric nodded, smiling softly.

"We've also got two old friends, or new friends, or both, depending on how you look at it. Angie, Sharon, glad you're here, too."

There was a smattering of humored applause (mostly from Dani), and the two former Hellions both smiled. Or rather, Marie-Ange smiled, while Sharon simply beamed.

"It's taken a lot of weirdness, and a lot of good and bad memories to get us together," Doug continued, "but now we're here, and I hope we're here to stay. We've got a ways to go, but we can make it together. I propose a toast to the future."

"The future!" Dani and Warlock chimed in together, raising their glasses along with the others.

University of California, San Diego
Tuesday, 16 November 1993 2:04 pm PST

"Good afternoon, Kenna, come in!" Professor Glenn smiled, opening his office door wider to admit both Kenna and her companion, an extremely tall black-haired girl with sunglasses. He indicated the two chairs opposite his desk, and the two girls sat down.

"Professor, this is m'friend Lea LaChatte," Kenna told him. "She's goin' t'be comin' here next quarter, an' she's come with me today t'see the campus."

"Pleased to meet you, Miss LaChatte," Glenn nodded, folding his hands across his desk. "It's always good to welcome a new face. What do you think of the University so far?"

"Very large," Lea nodded, vehemently. "Many students, many classes... Is very different. But is good, too."

"Professor," Kenna went on, "I was wond'rin, ye bein' m'advisor and all, if ye might be able to give Lea any advice on what t'expect from the University."

"Well, first of all, then, I would appreciate it if you'd remove the sunglasses," Glenn nodded to Lea. "I like to be able to look my students in the eye, you see."

Kenna exchanged a somewhat alarmed glance with Lea, but Lea didn't seem to think twice about it. She reached up, took the shades off, then looked straight at Glenn with wide, purple eyes. Her pupils contracted in the fairly bright light of the office. Into slits.

Then she smiled, and he got a good look at her fangs.

"You may... put them back on now, if you wish, Miss LaChatte..."

UCSD Music Department, 2:53 pm

Opera Workshop class had just ended, and the students were clearing out of the recital/practice hall, leaving Dr. Kitson, the instructor, to lock up the piano and turn out the lights. Before he could do either of the two, though, he was interrupted by a voice calling his name.

"Dr. Kitson!"

Kitson turned around to see Aaron McAudry approaching him across the empty stage, along with a young woman he couldn't place for the life of him. "Aaron! Let me guess, you've come to tell me you changed your mind, and you're joining Opera Workshop next quarter, right?"

"Ah, no, not exactly," Aaron grinned. "But I've brought a friend and future student here to meet you," he went on, indicating his companion. "This is Mireille Loiseau. She'll be coming in as a Masters candidate."

"Excellent," Kitson nodded, shaking her hand. "I'm glad to meet you."

"Thank you, Professor," Mireille smiled.

"Dr. Kitson teaches the choirs, the orchestra, and Opera Workshop," Aaron explained to Mireille, before turning back to Kitson. "And Miri here will very hopefully be joining at least one of the groups next quarter."

"Even better," Kitson smiled. "So what's your emphasis?"

She gave him a blank look. "Pardonnez-moi?"

"Gah, she speaks French," Kitson laughed, then held up both hands to show her he was joking. "I meant your specialty, Mireille. Any specific instrument?"

"Oh," she nodded. "Well, Doctor, to be honest, if it has strings, I can play it to some degree, but my specialties are violin and piano. I also sing."

Kitson nodded, looking impressed by her claim. "Can you give me a sample? Piano, anyway, since that's all we've got here. I don't have anywhere to be next hour."

Mireille looked to Aaron, then took a seat at the grand piano and rubbed her fingers for a moment. "What would you like to hear?"

"Oh, surprise me," he shrugged. "Give me a variety. Aaron here's always trying to shock the department along with his friends, so I'm used to it." He gave Aaron a good-natured smile as he said this.

For a moment, Mireille thought about this, then she nodded. After taking a moment to steady herself, she started off with Debussy's "Beau Soir," a challenging piece mostly for the constant changes between triple and duple subdivision of the beat. She was hesitant at first, getting the feel of this very worn piano, and as she made a segue into her next bit, an excerpt from a Chopin piece of which Kitson could not remember the title, she seemed infinitely more comfortable.

Then, the classical stuff out of the way, she suddenly shocked both of her listeners by going from Chopin to Elton John's "Funeral for a Friend." Professor and student alike could only listen, amazed by her sheer speed and accuracy, not to mention the complete changing of styles.

When she was done, she looked up and gave them a shy little smile.

"That was... very nice," Kitson nodded. "Very nice indeed, Mireille. Goodness, you'll give Aaron a run for his money."

"Sorry, Prof, she's already got me beaten into next week," Aaron grinned.

"Thank you, Professor," Mireille smiled, standing up from the piano bench.

"No, thank you. I hope that you enjoy our program."
 
 

As Doug and Marie-Ange left the recital hall, Doug reached over to take her hand and give it a squeeze. "You're very good, you know that?"

"I've practiced," she shrugged, humbly.

"Yeah, and you've even practiced Elton John. I'm impressed!"

"Do you think he liked me?" she asked, in reference to Kitson.

"Oh, I'm sure he did. Now when he sees your name suddenly appearing on his list of incoming graduate students, hopefully he won't think twice about it."

"Bon," she nodded.

"You know, you and I have GOT to do some duets," Doug smiled. "If I can keep up, that is."

"I would like that, Douglas. Very much. It will be good to... belong again."

Doug squeezed her hand again. "You'll be just fine. I promise."
 
 

Next: "Dance With a Stranger"

Go West #11: "Circumstances"
by Jeremy Bottroff, 10 January 1994

This story (c) 1994, 1999 Jeremy Bottroff

"Circumstances" performed by Rush, lyrics by Neil Peart, music by Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson, (c) 1978, 1999 CORE Music Publishing (ASCAP) CAPAC, Canada, from the album HEMISPHERES

Brightwind, Marie-Ange Colbert (Tarot), Manuel De la Rocha (Empath), Emma Frost (White Queen), Douglas Ramsey (Cypher), Rahne Sinclair (Wolfsbane), Sharon Smith (Catseye), Jennifer Stavros (Roulette), Rachel Summers (Phoenix), Rictor, Warlock, Charles Xavier (Professor X), Hellions, New Mutants, Massachusetts Academy, Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters (c) 1999 Marvel Entertainment Group

Dr. Samuel Glenn, Dr. Harold Kitson, Dr. Gary Wood created by Jeremy Bottroff, (c) 1999 Jeremy Bottroff

Ben Aldridge is the latest to be Tuckerized: he's an extremely cool fellow I sang with in a doo-wop quartet briefly in high school and even more briefly in a group called One Knight Only five years later.  Would love to try it again sometime.  Hey, Ben, where the heck did you wind up?

I guess Rollerblade is technically a trademark, but I just can't find myself to use the term "inline skates."  It's kind of like how I describe everyone with a personal stereo as having a walkman.

Evian is Naive spelled backward.  Coincidence?

University Towne Center, University of California, San Diego, Revelle College, and the city of La Jolla are still real.