All New Mutants, X-Men, etc. characters belong to Marvel comics. Any others (Dave as well as the "modified characters") are mine, ALL MINE!!! Author -- D. Cypher Email -- Darryll_Newvani@Hotmail.com Title -- Doug Ramsey + The New Mutants -- All is fair in war, love, and mutancy. Summary -- In an alternate universe where the Xavier mansion is a gigantic school complex (And where certain characters are younger than they should be -- BLAME CONTINUITY!), a confused and bewildered Doug Ramsey finds himself trying to prove himself worthy and manly enough for new-student Rahne Cassidy. However, as always, school will get in his way, and he has to find ways to get around it. Genre -- Humour, Real-life Issues Notes -- This was originally written as a Birthday gift for Luba Kmetyk. This is probably gonna be quite long, so we'll take this as part 5 (Out of about ten!). Doug Ramsey -- All is fair in love, war, and mutancy Part 5 -- Thelma and Louise, with a little bit of Rocky horror By D. Cypher Saturday, April 7th, 9:23am Doug's room lay silent and still this light, warm, April Saturday morning. It wasn't necessarily a messy room -- it was just that not everything seemed to be in order. For instance, on his desk, a half-eaten piece of brown toast lay in-between his collection of 3.5" floppies, and a large selection of Terry Pratchett novels. In one corner of the room was a small, wall-mounted TV, underneath which was a stereotypic black pine TV cabinet housing a Playstation and a particularly dirty Super Nintendo. A small collection of games was piled in front of the cabinet on a small patch of carpet whose original colour was worn away by what appeared to be two-toed feet -- it would be safe to say Kurt got very excited playing Street Fighter. Above the TV was a poster of computer game heroine Samus Aran and next to her was another, much larger poster displaying the red-jacketted figure of Kaneda, hero of Katshurio Otomo's Akira. Doug's room was littered with such posters: on the door was a comedic one of Ozzy Osbourne in a bunny costume, while above his bed was one of Douglas' primary heroes and mentors -- Leonard Nimoy, aka Mister Spock. Although his posters were approved of by his parents, they prefferd him to have more intellectual figures adorn his walls as well -- which resulted in the Shakespeare poster above his desk. Of course, Tom had defiled the poster by drawing on a pair of spectacles, a moustache, and a huge cigar -- Groucho Marx style -- while Illyana had gone as far as to write "I love my Willy" above his head. A perfect representation of the father of modern literature. Underneath Nimoy's cheery gaze, Doug stirred in his sleep. He parted his eyes slowly, and yawned. He patted his lips together two or three times, and blinked. It took him a second to notice someone was standing at the foot of the bed. "Morning," smiled Rahne, cheerily. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" he screamed abruptly, and smacked his head against a small shelf above his bed which carried a fraction of his old collection of Transformer toys. "Shit! That bloody hurts, that does!!!" "Och! Are ye ok, Dougy?" Rahne swiftly swept over to his bedside, and tried to soothe his head with her hands. "I was until you decided to appear in my room for no apparent reason!" Rahne was shocked at his harsh words. "Well," she spoke slowly, hurt. "I just came t'wish ye good luck an' all... When I saw yer door was open, and made my way in...." "And?" "And what??" "You want to say something else. You're nervous 'bout something." "No -- uh -- No, I'm not!" Rahne fidgetted with the hem of her skirt. "Oh, come on, Rahne!" He ran a hand through his hair and rubbed his eyes again. "I can read body language expertly, you know, and even through this Purple Haze o' Pain (TM) I can tell that you're dying to get something off your chest." "Oh -- well, if ye put it that way --" she shifted herself upright, placed her arms by her sides, snapped her legs together, took in a deep breath, and sighed. "--I came to apologise." "Apologise? -- For what?" Doug stared at her. She was wearing a yellow short-sleeved blouse worn loosely over a 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' T-Shirt, together with a thigh-length skirt and almost knee-high socks. Most people might've found her dress-sense a little goofy. Doug just thought it was cute. "About... last night." "Last nigh-- Oh..." It dawned on him like smelling a fart in an elevator, and blaming it on the elderly, zimmer-bound man in the corner. Then releasing it was you. "Yeah, I just--" Rahne looked like she was almost going to cry "--wanted to say that I shouldn't have pressured you into what I did, and--" Doug leaned over and took Rahne's wrist. He smiled up at her. "And nothing -- It wasn't your fault, you were tired, you'd had a busy day... I think." She fought back the tears and smiled down at him. *God, she's pretty,* he thought. *Why am I such a useless walking-secret-decoder-ring, free with every special packet of Kellogg's Frosties, when it comes to girls...* "Yeah -- I guess yer right, Doug." "You had any Breakie yet, Rahne?" She shook her head. "Well, you'd better bloody hurry up then -- Game starts in half an hour!" "You haven't had anything either!" "I know -- ain't I a stinker!" His hands leapt up to her ribs, and he tickled her down her sides. Shrieking in delight, Rahne flailed her arms, trying to get Doug to release her -- it just ended up with her toppling over Doug, onto his bed. The two stared at each other, face to face, only centimetres away from their mouthes touching, both giving out an occasional giggle. Slowly, however, Doug noticed how Rahne's face mimicked exactly how she had been yesterday, when they had almost... For a second, their lips almost touched. *Go on, you idiot!* His mind screamed at him. *Do it for us, and all the other knights of Ni!* #You stupid wee bampot!# Rahne's conscience told her. #You tried this last night! It's all gonna be th' same -- He's gonna chicken out, simply 'cos he doesn't love ye. Ye've only known him less than a day, and already he knows ye're nothin' more than what ye are -- a love-sick wee bairn!# There was a knock at the door, and the pair suddenly became 100% awake again and, after both giving themselves dirty glares, dusted themselves off, as if they'd just rolled down a trash heep. *D'oh!* #Sigh# "Wh-Who is it?" Doug looked to Rahne, and she gave him a worried expression, biting her lip. "It's me," came a London accent. "Gimme a second, Tom." Doug leaped out of bed, and quickly threw on the basketball garb he had set-out last night on his desk-swivel-chair. He felt a kiss on his cheek, and a smile to his right. "Good luck -- I'll be watching." "Th-thanks, Rahney." The door opened, and Rahne said "Hi" to Tom, before darting off down the hallway. Tom spun round to watch her run off, before turning back round to face Doug. "Wasn't tha-" "Rahne, yeah." "And she was in yo-" "In my room, yes, at 9:30 on Saturday morn'." There was a pause. "Did you two have--" "NO WAY!" "You su-" "I said, NO WAY!" *I wish!* "Sure, sure..." There was a pause. "Something on your mind, Douglas?" "No." Another pause. Halfway through putting his shorts on, Doug paused and sighed. "Yeah," he corrected himself. "Wanna talk?" "No-- Yeah," he took a deep breath. "I had one heck of a weird dream last night." "Look, let's talk about it later, after Brekkie." Tom threw Doug a Kellogg's cereal bar, for 'Breakfast on the Go.' "Right -- Let's go!" Just finishing tying his laces, Doug jogged through the door, sweeping up his smaller bag, and threw it over his shoulder. He stopped to wait for Tom. They made their way down the dorm' corridor. "Y'know Doug, if you play well today, I think I'll expose you to a little more Monty Python Videos.." "DINSDALE!" "Exactly, my friend, exactly." *********** "Look, I really dunno if I should be exposing 'delicate information' like this to someone -- well, I can't deny it -- as *untrustworthy* as you." On the field, Xavier's were doing surprisingly well. They were up by 6 points (3 by Sam, and 1 each by Rictor, Tom, and Roberto) and Bayville didn't look like they were playing at full form. However, Roberto DaCosta had taken a nasty tackle to the legs, and Tom had had to replace him. What struck Doug as odd, though, was the fact that it had looked like that it had been Rictor who had tackled Berto. "Doug, I'm all ears." Doug sighed. "Ok." He gulped. "It begins with me. In a car. It's red -- I recognise it immediately. It's a replica 1956 Thunderbird, like my dad used to own. There's no roof, it's a convertible. The scenery outside is all cliff edges, endless high-ways, and orange sand -- Arizona, kinda. I look down at my hands, and I see I'm wearing a leather jacket. I look in the rearview mirror, and it's then that I notice I'm wearing shades. In the mirror, I can see that I'm wearing a headscarf, and make-up. Women's make-up. Like Thelma and Bloody-Loui--" He paused to wait for Berto to stop laughing and rolling on the bench, clutching his sides with hysterics. Doug felt like an idiot, turning to Roberto DaCosta for comfort. What a mistake, to tell his arch-rival about his dream. It wasn't as bad as Doug thought it might have been, however -- he knew that, if you caught Berto in a good mood, he could be alright... as opposed to being a neurotic asshole. "Can I carry on now, once you've finished making a fool of yerself?" "Me make a fool of myself?" Berto clambered back upright, a fiendish smile on his lips. "Oh, Douglas -- *you* are the one in women's make-up, trapped in a dream-replica of the greatest chick-flick of all time." *BAMF!* "Did someone say chick-flick?" "Salutations, Kurt," Doug murmurred, without taking his eyes off his feet. "Buenos Dias, Wagner," came Dacosta, slyly. "And Buenos Dias to you t-" It clicked in Kurt's head. "Doug, why, oh why, in the name of sanity, are you discussing 'chick-flicks' with the biggest w*nker of all-time?" "I'm NOT discussing chick-flicks--" groaned Doug. He couldn't take his mind off Rahne. He knew she was watching him. "Not any chick-flick, Wagner -- Thelma and Louise." "Oooo! Thelma and Louise, is it, Doug?!?!" Kurt nudged Doug in the ribs several times. "Now we know which side of the verdamnt path you walk, eh, EH!?!" "Get this, Wagner -- He drempt he was actually in the film." "I did NOT dream I was in the fi--" He needed to get the subject off his chest. Having his best friend and his worst enemy both ridicule him at he same time did not help. "Ooo! Were you Susan "Rocky-Horror" Sarandon, Doug?? Please say you were!!" Kurt put on a mock Tim Curry (Frankfurter, for you critics and bush-beaters out there) voice -- it was so mock, it had a German accent -- "IN SEVEN DAYS--" Berto joined in, "--I WILL MAKE YOU--" And in the single-scariest duet ever to grace Xavier's school, both Berto and Kurt chorused, "A MA-A-A-A-AAAAAAAAAAN!" Doug cracked. He leapt to his feet. "IF IT'LL SHUT YOU BOTH UP, YES, YES! I DREMPT I WAS SUSAN "ROCKY-HORROR" SARANDON -- HAPPY NOW????" Silence. Absolute, silence. The basketball game stopped abruptly. Referee Judd lost his balance and collapsed to the floor. The crowd slowly turned to stare at the source of the outburst. Near the hoop, Rahne buried her face in her hands. Everybody stared at Doug. Unintentionally, Doug's language faculty had made his 'Susan Sarandon Speech' accesible to the whole audience. Either that or he'd shouted too loud, but in later tales, Doug would blame his language powers. "...poop...?" said Doug, embarrassed. The game began again, everyone turned away, and Doug slumped back on the reserves bench. "Anyway..." began Kurt. "...you'd just got to noticing your headscarf, methinks?" prompted Berto. Doug sighed. "You promise to listen?" "Yes, Sir." "Are you sitting comfortably, children?" They nodded. "Then I'll begin..." He closed his eyes and began to recollect... *********** Doug grabbed his head, the scarf almost blown away by the thrust of the wind created by the accelerating car. "What the--?" he began, staring at the scenery. A large roadsign declaring "YOU ARE DREAMING, DOUGLAS" zoomed past. "Oh. I see." He turned to his left, to see the driver. The driver too wore a headscarf and shades. More of a paisley pattern adorned the other scarf, compared to little tweety-birds on Doug's. Carefully, Doug tried to stand in the automobile, and peered at the driver's face. Julio Richter's nose and grin were unmissable beneath the paisley. "Julio...?" "Yes, Douglas?" "This might seem a silly question... But why in hell are we wearing headscarves and shades... driving roughly 90 miles an hour... in a 1956 Thunderbird... down an Arizona-esque gorge..." Doug paused and looked into the wing-mirror. The sound of motors had been slowly growing behind them. "Presumably being chased..." Doug tilted the mirror, to check what was chasing them. "...by around 30 police cars... accompanied by television helicopters?" "Don't ask me, Dougy-boy, it's your dream." "Ah." Doug slumped into his seat, contented. "Should've guessed." For around 20 seconds, Doug just sat there, 'enjoying' his dream as much as he could. He watched the mirror. The squad cars were slowly growing in size, an even larger dustcloud surrounding them. It was soon after this that it clicked in his head to try the radio. He reached across the dashboard, and flipped a switch. A recognisable voice came out of the nearest speaker. "...You know, Doug... ...if you're not careful... ...you'll lose me..." *Betsy! That's Betsy's voice!* Doug thought to himself. *She said that to me in the hospice ward earlier! Why the heck am I rembering that...?* However, Betsy's voice was no longer Betsy's voice. It had trailed off and merged into another 'station.' "...forever... ...I want to stay here forever... ...with you, Doug... ...just you..." Julio's hand reached over to switch it off, but Doug grabbed his wrist, stopping him. *That was... Rahne's voice. But... I've never heard her say that...* Julio's hand withdrew, back to the wheel. Doug changed the station before Julio could try to switch it off again. "Relax, Douglas. This is just a dream." All other sound around Doug stopped. Everything was silent. The police squad cars sped past and around him. He recognised Dani and Kurt's faces among the windows. He did not care though -- all he cared about was the voice. He had heard it nearly every day of the two years he had been at Xavier's... but he couldn't place it. "What's... going on...?" asked Doug. He was sure Julio couldn't hear him. "I was monitoring the students' dreams when I detected the tension coming from your room." He could place the voice -- but for some reason its owner was concealed from him. "Ummm, mystery voice on the radio?" A large hole began to open at the end of the rocky valley. "Yes, Douglas?" "Will the dream end soon?" The cars began to slow and fall behind Julio and Doug's car. "Yes, very soon. As soon as you enter that gorge ahead." Doug could swear Julio was silently laughing, or even cackling maniacally. "Anything I should do?" The hole became bigger. "If you want this dream to make a little more... or possibly even less... sense, I suggest you jump out." The hole was seconds away. "Now?" All Doug could see in front was endless darkness. "Yes. Now." With as much training as he could recollect from athletics/gymnastic lessons with Miss Munroe, Doug grabbed the car door and flung his weight over and out the speeding vehicle, landing on his butt inches away from the hole's mouth. Immediately, Julio and the Car sunk headfirst into the darkness. From his point of view, Doug only had a few seconds to read the number plate. 'RA4NE' "Now that's just tacky..." murmurred Doug, and he woke up. *********** Berto and Kurt sat gawping on either side of Doug. "Well, whaddaya make of that?" he asked. "Well..." Berto began, "From what I can make out, it kinda sounds like Julio's trying to steal Rahne from you, but that's just stupid. I mean, you're not even going out yet, or anything." "Wow. That's one screwed-up dream, Dougy," came Kurt. "That's what I thought, Berto," Doug looked at his feet, "but I didn't have any idea that Julio was trying to get Rahne -- so why did I dream it? And what about the radio? What's that mean?" "I have no idea." "Wow," Kurt echoed. Their subsequent silence was interrupted by the crowd's cheer, as Sam dunked a basket. Doug spotted Rahne by the pool, and noticed she was smiling at him. He waved to her, and she waved back. He heard Berto snigger. "Oh, Douglas, I play the world's smallest violin, just--" began Kurt. But at that point in time, Doug's attention was caught by the sight of Sam, now sprawlled on the court's floor, grabbing his ankle. Julio and Tom, who had been flanking him, were by his side. A whistle blew for the game to pause. There was a murmur from the crowd. "--for you... What in the verdamnt name of Hell just happened there?!?" "I have no idea," said Doug as he rose to his feet, following Judd's beckoning, "but it looks like I'm on." "Good luck, Ramsey," spoke Berto, giving Doug a thumbs up. "Yeah, knock 'em dead, Doug!" cheered Kurt. "Thanks, guys, see you in a bit!" Doug smiled back, jogging towards the centre of the court. Around him, he could hear a minority of cheerers -- most probably Dave, Marie, Larry, Dani, Kitty and the others. He could see Rahne smiling like crazy, waving her hands so violently she almost blinded Jamie Madrox with her flailing thumbs. He reached the court centre, and watched two medical students move Sam onto a stretcher. Doug moved into position where Sam had been, ready for a rebound. "Go for it, Doug!" whispered Tom. On his right, however, Julio only gave off silence, and a sarcastic smirk. Doug felt uneasy, and looked dead ahead, ready for the game to restart. *********** The whistle blew again, and Julio watched Doug sprint towards Bayville's player Matthews, himself and Tom flanking the opposition, opening Doug for Remy's rebound. *Ok, now that Sam's out the way, Ramsey can suffer. That miniature quake on his leg shouldn't have done any major damage. A worthy sacrifice for my happiness...* Doug grabbed the ball, and slapped it into the net. The crowd cheered again, and Julio watched Rahne blow Doug a fake kiss. Ramsey didn't deny it. As he landed, Juio stepped past, a wave of anger leaving his hand, and made contact with Doug's legs. There was a sound of twisting bone, and Doug fell to the floor, his chin hitting dirt. Screams rang out in the crowd. Julio stepped out of the path of the seemingly overwhelmed med students, and slinked through the gathering crowd of concerned players. "Oh, stop screaming, bambino," he spoke to himself, a look of depravity on his face, "that was just the first course..." *********** "Douglas! No!" Rahne screamed, tears already pouring down her face. Jamie grabbed her as she tried to leap over the barrier. He was only a matter of feet away. "No, Rahne! Keep back! The med students'll do something!" "Jamie.." Rahne turned to stare Jamie in the eyes, and he could see that a thin coating of red fur was slowly enveloping her exposed skin. Her ears rose, and pointed at the ends. Her teeth began to bare themselves, her canines slightly -- yet noticeably -- more pointed than before. Her nose slightly blackened, and her eyes dilated and almost glowed green. "...let me GO!" She swung her arm and hit Jamie in the chest, at the same time leaping over the barrier. There was a popping sound, and a second pair of hands, belonging to a second Jamie Madrox, tried to grab her other arm, but to no avail. By now, she had bounded over the barrier, her new tail poking out over her skirt, and scrambled to Doug's side, next to Tom. "Doug... Doug!" she whispered, tears staining furred skin, "Are you ok...?" "Agh-- Christ-on-a-friggin'-Bike!" Doug screamed through clenched teeth, his eyes tightly closed. "It-- hurts like-- freeakin'-- AGH!-- hell-- Rahney..." "I taught him that one -- y'know, 'Christ-on-a-bike'?" smiled Tom. Rahne frowned at the Cockney, then leaned down to Doug, so her mouth was by his ear. A tear dripped onto his cheek. "What happened...?" "I--d-d-dunno..." stuttered Doug, opening his eyes. His words were a lot calmer now. "...but it-- doesn't-t-t matter now that--- y-you're here..." He shakily reached his arm out to Rahne, and she instantly wrapped hers around him too. They embraced, his lips touching her cheek. Within seconds, though, medical student Twoyoungmen put his hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry miss, but we have to take him now." "No..." whispered Rahne. "Forever... I want to stay here forever... with you, Doug... just you..." Doug gave no reply, just shallow breathing. "Let them take him," Tom spoke gently into Rahne's ear. She let go, and Twoyoungmen and a Cheyenne lad hoisted Doug onto a stretcher, his hand still reaching out to Rahne. Within moments, he was gone. END OF PART 5 Next: Will Richter's (Richtor, Rictor, who cares!) attack permanently destroy Doug's chances at teenage happiness? Or will a pair of American Indian med students make him fit for the rest of the story? (CLUE: It's the latter option) AND who the heck was the mystery voice in the car? -- All will be revealed.