Havin' a Ball

[madrox]

Jamie sighed. What a usual circumstance. Let one thing slip about being attracted to someone, if only subconciously through an alternate manifestation of his basest sexual desires, and you're on a double date. Jamie hadn't actually tried to get with a girl for the longest time. He was very tired, practically constantly. Recently he had decided to not reabsorb his dupes, so he could keep some kind of normal sleep schedule. It worked pretty well, as long as he kept the potentially dangerous ones at bay. However he still worked all the time for Guido. That didn't help.

"I don't know about that. It seems to me that my..." he pondered on this, "raging hormones laid on a good deal of smarm and pomp. I'm not into that kind of thing. I think he was quoting poetry over there, I can't quote sit-coms! My memory is horrible for a guy with infinitely possible brains."

His sense of humor certainly wouldn't save him either.

[meltdown]

"Warren. I need some of your blood to heal the wound in Scott's neck," Tabitha explained.

Warren had developed a healing factor as part of his secondary mutation. In the laboratory tests is had shown promise as a healing agent to the cells of other mutants. Of course all of that had taken place in a petri dish. It had never been tested on a living person before.

She quickly wrapped a goblet in a clean napkin and smashed it on the floor. She rummaged around to find a large shard, careful not to cut herself. She held out the piece of glass to Warren. Tabitha had a napkin at the ready to collect some of the healing blood and test her hypothesis.

[Bobby Drake]

"Sure," Ali agreed thoughtfully. "But it's you we're gonna hook up. Not him."

Good point.

"I don't know about that. It seems to me that my..." (Jamie) said with some doubt as he considered the offer, "...raging hormones laid on a good deal of smarm and pomp. I'm not into that kind of thing. I think he was quoting poetry over there, I can't quote sit-coms! My memory is horrible for a guy with infinitely possible brains."

“Who said anything about having to quote stuff? You think she would only want to go out with you if you could recite to her all night?” Bobby looked at Ali. “Do chicks really like that stuff?” He shook his head. “I think what Dazz is sayin’ is even if he can talk, the other dude is a walking woody. A talking trouser mouse. A reciting Rodzilla.”

He looked astonished at himself. “Hey look I’m reciting poetry!” Looking at Ali. “Is it doing anything for ya?”

[scott]

Scott dutifully followed the doctor to the alcove. Once there, he leaned lightly against the wall. The urgency of following Weapon X and finding out what was going on was still at the forefront of his mind, but he knew if he tried he wouldn't make it very far.

The commander still had not given any orders on what to do.

Looking over into the blue face of Warren, Scott wondered at what the doctor was ordering him to do. His blood could heal? He wondered absently what it would mean for him if their blood mingled.

Right now he had lost the will to speak.

[Sam Guthrie]

Healing blood?

That was a new one. Samuel was definitely skeptical about the medical merits of a impromptu blood transfusion.

But she was the doctor, not him.

"Summers, allow Dr. Smith to do what is necessary." He said watching her work with a keen interest. How the hell would this work?

Summers looked so pale and faint, Samuel was sure he was going to keel over at any second.

"Stay with me soldier!" He hissed, keeping his voice low enough so not to attract too much attention. He would not lose anyone tonight.

"This had better work Tabitha..." Samuel added, using her first name to address her, "I don't plan on losing my Corporal this evening..."

[angel]

Tabitha handed Warren the shard of glass. He held his hand above Tabitha's napkin and drove the glass into his palm sharply. Immediately a small stream of blood ran down onto the napkin. Red a stark contrast against his blue hand.

"This had better work Tabitha... I don't plan on losing my Corporal this evening..." Commander Guthrie hissed in almost a warning.

Warren glanced at Scott; he was fading fast.

He drug the shard across his palm making an eerie cutting sound. The blood was now free-flowing and soon began to pool. Once enough blood had pooled Warren clench his fist to close off the already slowing flow. "It has to enter his blood stream to affect him," Warren instructed Tabitha.

Warren stepped back and watched Tabitha go to work.

[Doug Ramsey]

Tatiana nearly squealed in delight at the prospect of a dance. In fact, Doug thought she was going to rip his arm off in her rush to get to the dance floor. Once there, however, she relaxed, and allowed him to take the lead.

Since the entrance of King Magnus, the music had switched from some piped in nightclub offering of current pop tunes [much to Dazzler's amusement, it seemed!] to the live orchestral band, playing classical arrangements. Just as Tati and Doug slid to the floor, the Blue Danube Waltz by Johann Strauss began to play.

Doug smiled, taking Tatiana by the hand, his other hand sweeping naturally to the small of her back. "Relax. Follow my lead, and just let the movement flow from inside you. This is really one of the easiest songs to waltz to, and possibly the most beautiful. Just keep your eyes on me."

Daaaa daaa daaa daa daa-- da da-- da da.. The pace began slow, step and step and step and twist... step and step and step and twist... the simpliest and most basic of steps, as the music began to build and build to the first crescendo, a little faster... a little more... a little more...

Doug's hands were firm, placing Tatiana's upper body exactly where it should be, guiding her, without force, but drawing her along with him nonetheless. When the first crescendo paused, before the song began again with the second 'movement' of the piece, Doug smiled.

"Very good, Tatiana. Are you ready to kick it up a notch?" Doug laughed. "Its about to get a little more complicated." The music replied to Doug's statement by beginning again, a little more intense, a quicker build up, a more intricate and powerful arrangement, until it reached the sweeping swirling passage.

They flowed with the music, step step step swirl twist step step step swirl twist... each mini crescendo in the piece emphasized with a small dip in the turn, matching the weaving pace of the music.

Then... it began again. The slow build up... even faster and more intense this time...

This was one aspect of the job of Director that Douglas Ramsey enjoyed immensely. King Magnus insisted that they were to be a cultured people, regardless of the half century of violence that had marred their development as a society. He had been required, like all the high ranking officials, to learn to dance. His very first dance partner was none other than Princess Katherine herself, in the same class. That had fueled a few months of fantasy, Douglas convinced that the quirky and shy Princess and he were destined to be together. Of course, she barely even knew he existed as a person outside of his official capacity. That was very frustrating to the young lad... and who knows what the future would have held, if not for a certain diplomatic mission that was to change Doug's life forever, and his first dance with someone not in his dance class.

Nova Roma.

Several years ago.

The SHIELD envoy discovered a hidden society deep within the South American jungles. A primitive culture mirroring ancient Rome, in all its glory, minus the expansive empire quality of it. The people seemed stuck in time. King Magnus wanted to figure out what kind of threat they posed, as well as to establish ties to them, if mutants should be found amongst their kind.

"<Your King does me a great honor with these gifts of the outside world>," the man who lead these people greeted Douglas on the night of their reception, speaking a highly dialectic variation of Latin. "<I look forward to meeting him, and engaging in relations. Long have I thought that our people needed to venture beyond the great jungle, but the Gods have always turned us back. That you should make it is a great omen of things to come.>"

"<Thank you, sir.>" Douglas said in response, speaking as if he had lived amongst them all his life. "<King Magnus looks forward to visiting your impressive city himself, and enjoying the quiet pleasures you offer. It is a great honor to be recieved so openly, sir, in this day and age.>"

"<Father...?>" Douglas heard a young feminine voice ask, a strange paradox of confidence and submissiveness, as he turned to see who spoke and was greeted by the most stunning blonde girl he had ever seen. The vision of her pierced his heart, burning deep into his mind. Dressed in traditional Romanesque garb, the toga draped over her frame in a manner that was both noble and extremely flattering to the eye.

"<Douglas Ramsey, I'd like to introduce you to my daughter,>" the man said, gesturing. "<Princess of Nova Roma, the Lady Amara Aquilla.>"

Tatiana was fidgeting, her hands shifting in his, her eyes, he suddenly noticed in his reminiscing, distracted slightly, bringing him back to the present.

"Tatiana...?" Doug questioned, "Something wrong?"

[meltdown]

Guthrie's "vote of confidence" did little to ease Tabitha's worries. Perhaps he could tell that she was grasping at straws. She was determined not to lose this soldier however.

Tabitha also noted the fact that Warren had no qualms about slicing his palm open. She wondered whether is was a true devotion to his commrade and friend or something darker. She pushed those thoughts aside. She didn't have time to worry about that.

She took the blood soaked napkin from Warren and began to squeeze it over Scott's wound. The small amount of blood trickled out and seeped into the gash on his neck.

Please work.

"How're you holding up Scott? Do you feel any different?" she asked.

[scott]

To Scott it didn't seem like anything had been done. He saw Warren cut his palm and saw Tabitha take a sample of that blood and even numbly felt the blood being placed on his neck. And then he was looking into the expectant faces of Dr. Smith and the others.

"How're you holding up Scott? Do you feel any different?"

He thought about it.

Nothing. Nothing felt different. He still felt weak, he still felt disoriented. He still...

And then he felt the tingle in his neck. Subtle at first, and then growing in intensity. Slowly he reached a hand up to his neck, revealing the fact that the skin was knitting up and closing over.

[Sam Guthrie]

Holy....

Guthrie's eyes widened as he watched Summers' neck close up like it was being sewn by an invisible seamstress.

It worked.

His first thought was not one of relief, nor was it praise.

It was application.

Soldiers equipped with vials of Warren's blood, it would nearly eradicate the need for medical personnel, and be much more cost effective than all those medical supplies we used....

He smiled a predatory smile. The gears were turning indeed.

"Excellent...." He said, "Well done on all fronts..."

He wasted little time however in returning to business.

"Summers, I need a full incident report on my desk by tomorrow afternoon..." He ordered, "Make sure it's detailed, I can't just arrest every young girl in the Empire..."

It would be easier than suffering through all that paper work though....

[dazz]

Smarm?

For the most part, Ali wanted to leave this matter between Bobby and Jamie. Still, she was paying attention to the conversation, throwing in her two cents when necessary. The pajama-clad cameraman was now lamenting himself...his other self...for setting him up to crash and burn, using poetry and the like. How freakin' cheesy. This Jamie, however, was hopeless in his speech. His dilemma was almost pathetic enough to warrant her help. She'd let Bobby go up to bat first, though. Ali was female; she had a grudgy reputation to maintain.

"Who said anything about having to quote stuff? You think she would only want to go out with you if you could recite to her all night?"

Bobby was right. That would just be...gag, even to a romantic.

"Do chicks really dig that stuff?"

Bobby already knew that answer and their heads shook practically in unison.

"I think what Dazz is sayin' is even if he can talk, the other dude is a walking woody. A talking trouser mouse. A reciting Rodzilla."

Ali's jaw dropped open and just kinda hung there. Was he...serious? That was too many references for even her taste. Now it was her turn to lament.

"Hey look! I'm reciting poetry! Is it doing anything for ya?"

"I hang out with such classy people..."

[madrox]

"I don't want to know anything about your....Rod...zilla. Aren't we modest. I guess I better...retrieve myself. He won't be happy, but, then he'll only be a portion of my own conciousness. It all comes back. Sad, Sad Madrox."

He looked around to see if the imposing Guthrie or creepy Ramsey were peeking at him. He ran for the door and squeezed his way out.

He looked around. He had told the Libidrox not to go far, he didn't want him around any more people than he'd already bothered. Fortunately, he happened to pop out of some greenery just near the entrance.

"Holy...you scared the living...what's wrong with you!?"

Libidrox was surprised. He hadn't gone very far at all.

"Well, how's it going? Do I have a second date? I need this girl man. We hit kind of a dry spell, if ya get me."

Jamie was thoroughly sick of having his libido attacked by his...well, these jokes are getting old anyway, you can piece this one together yourself.

"No second date for you," he said, not unlike the Soup Nazi, "I get the next date." He reached out and absorbed the Libidrox. It felt good to have him gone, truthfully. Although he had scored him the first real live woman date since...well, that's personal.

He carefully tread back into the castle and towards Ali and Bobby.

"He's through, for now. If he pops up again, he probably won't come back." Jamie felt a slight twinge of guilt. After all the Libidrox was a person with free will, who had actually done a pretty cool thing for Jamie. It passed.

[meltdown]

Tabitha breathed a sigh of relief. She was glad to see that that her idea worked. It was risky but it payed off in the end. She hoped that there would be no side-effects. The treatment of a living person with Warren's blood hadn't been fully tested. She would schedule an appointment for Scott later.

"Thank you for your help Warren," she replied.

She quickly turned her attention back to Scott. She checked his pulse with her hand against his wrist. It was still weak. "I think you should get to the medical facility as soon as possible. The wound is closed but you have lost a deal of blood," she suggested.

[Bobby Drake]

"I hang out with such classy people..."

Oddly enough, any sense that she was employing 'sarcasm' or anything remotely similar to that was completely lost on Bobby. He just smiled at her, a winning, million dollar, toothpaste smile. She'd been kind of complimenting him off and on tonight.

What was that all about?

He really didn't notice when Jamie took off to talk to himself. His bigger concern was with the strange (friendship) that was budding between him and Ali. It was anything but comfortable, and the worst part was that he liked it. This had to be some kind of voodoo chick thing.

And he had to find a story for work, or he was so out of a job. Ali was officially off limits. What he was going to tell Guido, he had no idea. But for some reason he'd made the decision that it would be better to answer to Guido than...well, it would just be better.

He suddenly realized he'd been staring at Ali, when Jamie (who had reappeared next to them) decided to break the moment with a nonsensical statement. "He's through, for now. If he pops up again, he probably won't come back."

Bobby didn't take his eyes off of Ali right away, but he smiled. Then he looked at Jamie. "And believe it or not, that actually made sense...in a sick and horrible kind of way." He decided to change the subject, wrapping an arm around Jamie's shoulders and one around Dazz's. "So...you ever been in a mosh pit, Jamie?"

[Tatiana]

Tatiana tilted her head. The odd feeling was gone. Not unusual. Just annoying. She focused back on her dance partner and shook her head at his question. "Oh, no, I'm sorry, I, just thought I heard something. But its gone now." She smiled and lowered her eyes momentarily.

When she looked back up, she posed her own question. "I may have been distracted, but you seemed to be as well. Thinking only happy thoughts I hope." Tatiana said. He looked happy anyway, and that was good. She liked to please people. Even when her brain was fried and things to talk about were hard to dream up.