'Tis The Season (Part One)

I had one time made an off-handed comment about how being on the baby X-Men team made us all designated resident assistants for the rest of the student body. It had been a joke, yet as time passed it became more and more accurate.

At first, it was people coming across us in the halls and asking for advice. Eventually, it started evolving to people reporting potential problems for us to check on. Not that we were particularly keen to do so, but after all of the trouble that had happened at school, it behooved us to keep an eye out. And, of course, with the rest of the team being roped into doing this, it was always my problem because they always wound up reporting back to me.

I needed to make a comment box or some group on social media for kids to leave their concerns with, because without such a thing, they kept seeking me out directly.

"-Like, I'm just saying, it's not fair," One boy said, in the middle of droning on about his issue for the last several minutes, "Is it really a big deal that I like sleeping in the pool? It's comfortable for me, and it's not like anyone is swimming after midnight. I don't really think I should get in trouble over that, do you?"

An aquatic mutant had managed to find me and approached me with no regard to what I'd been doing to begin giving out to me. Apparently, this kid had no idea what killing the mood meant. I'd been in a residential kitchen with Laura doing a couple thing of making dinner, when he'd barged in with his issue. An issue I really couldn't do anything about.

I'd tried being cordial at first, but he just kept going... and going... and going. Just, in a circle, back to the same point over and over again.

I stared at him, then spared a glance over at Laura, who'd long since grown bored with listening and busied herself with cutting up ingredients, "Dude, I'm trying to do a thing here," I said to the student, "Can you, like, not? Please?"

I got a halfhearted apology for my trouble, "Well, sorry. But nobody knows what your office hours are."

My mouth hung open in astonishment. He couldn't have been serious, "Office hours? What are you-? I don't have office hours! I don't even have an office!"

"So, does that mean students can reach out any time?" The student asked, either ignoring or otherwise not noticing my growing ire, "Hey aren't you supposed to have a number we can reach you at or something? Ow. Ow. Ow! Hey!"

I'd started throwing individual kernels of frozen corn to antagonize the kid into leaving, "Shoo, fool! Yah!"

Apparently, 'Taking A Hint 101' was a class that sorely needed to be taught at Xavier's. It only took a few sharp chunks to the head to get him to take off running. My aim with frozen vegetables was almost as good as it was with beams of hardened light.

"That was mean of you," Laura remarked, still handling ingredients from the kitchen counter.

I rolled my eyes, not that she could see it. She hadn't bothered to look up the entire time I'd been engaged, going with the time-honored method of completely ignoring someone to get out of an unwanted conversation. Quite the technique.

I moved over behind her and looked over her shoulder at her progress, "Nice stops the third time I have to say I'm not an R.A. in five minutes," I remarked, wrapping my arms around her waist while I watched her, "Can I start cooking the ground beef yet?"

Laura nodded, and I could see a little smile form on her lips, "You can," She replied.

I hummed and decided to ask another relevant question, "Can you tell me what you want for Christmas yet?"

The bait was not taken.

"I do not want anything for Christmas," Laura said, as nonchalantly as ever.

Goddamn you, woman. Not that I had been expecting any other kind of answer. She gave me the same response every time I had asked that question over the last few days. Normally, this would have been fine, as I could have probably gotten an idea on my own, but Laura was the kind of person that was difficult to shop for. It was a mystery as to what she actually liked.

That in mind, I decided to tease her a little bit, "Not even if it's Kimura's severed head dipped in gold?" I tempted.

From the way she paused, it was clear to me that I had at least piqued her interest, at least until she realized I'd been joking. Kind of. I wouldn't have had any problems morally following through on that if given the chance. Grim as it was, it probably couldn't have happened to a nicer person.

Still... Laura was a good girl. And good girls didn't just ask for their enemies' heads to be sawed off for the sake of vengeance; even if they really wanted to.

"No, not even that," Laura huffed, giving me a nudge for picking on her, "...Why dipped in gold?"

"So you can use it as an ornament or something," I reasoned, "Put it on your mantle or the hood of your car. Girls like shiny things, right?"

Laura elbowed me in the ribs, "Bellamy," She said chidingly.

I laughed and moved away from her would-be wrath, "Yeah-yeah-yeah," I busied myself with washing my hands and preparing the ground beef for our dinner, "I'll figure something out," I said under my breath.

"I heard that," Laura informed me.

"I know."