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A Little Somethin' Somethin'
by
Gax



Disclaimer: Marvel owns all of it, except for the Quickie Mart and the Squishee, which are owned by the folks that own the Simpsons. The poetry belongs to Byron's, Shakespeare's, Blake's, and Churchill's heirs. "Spirit in the Sky" stolen as a form of flattery from Norm Greenbaum. I belong to Cody, who is even now, as I write, looking over my shoulder at a piece of pizza and asking "Are you gonna finish that?"

Warning! Yup, there are drugs (well, just one) in this part of the story, and if you don't approve of that sort of thing, please run screaming the other way, because I can't be held responsible for you getting really upset once I've warned you. Also, this is rated R, youngsters. If you are below the R age in your area, don't sneak into this movie.

Dedicated to all the readers and reviewers (thanks for stickin' with me, and for all the feedback), Tim and Lori, Paul, Shoosh, Rex (you give great beta, baby), and all the BadGirls at the Swirl (especially Yaz).

Feedback is not only appreciated, but utterly begged for. Flames will be ignored. Possibly even laughed at.




Okay. I have officially hit my limit, thought Cody. She was digging under the seat in her truck, praying fervently, with every fiber of her being, that the plastic bag she was looking for was there. On the verge of abandoning all hope and beginning to formulate curses for every god she could name, her hand struck gold. "Oh, thank you, thank you."

She held it up to the light. Two green buds, each the size of her thumb, glistening with crystals, rested there like faith rewarded. After some less frantic rummaging through her glove box, she found a beat-up packet of Zig-Zags, and reverently rolled herself the mother of all fatties.

* * * *


Hank McCoy had been studying Cody Latrans' DNA for hours. He had run an extra electrophoresis on it. He had checked and re-checked his results. He had gnawed at its structure and composition like a Jack Russell Terrier worrying at a soup bone. The only thing he could think of to account for the way it sequenced was magic. Entertaining a momentary flicker of hope, he plugged the sequence into a database containing every strand of DNAãhuman, alien, plant, animal, and virus---that had been entered over the years. It was a long shot, but if anything remotely compatible was in there, the program would find it. Of course, that was going to take awhile.

Sparing a glance at the clock, he saw it was half past eleven. "I need a break." The Quickie Mart in Salem Center would be open for another half an hour. It was generally a fifteen or twenty minute ride. The way he drove, factoring in time required to purchase Twinkies, he could be home before 11:45.

He grabbed his coat and headed for the nearest exit.

* * * *


Cody had just fired up her first hit when he came walking down the driveway. She held it in until her eyes began to water, then exhaled a billow of smoke that filled the entire cab. She sighed with contentment.

Hank looked over, his eyes widening. His mind went into emergency mode. The wiring must have shorted and started a fire. He had difficulty ascertaining whether or not she was inside. The smoke was so thick, that if she was, she might have passed out.

All thoughts of golden snackfood were abandoned as he bounded toward her truck. As he got closer, a strange, yet oddly familiar smell wafted toward him. It was neither burning wire nor smoldering upholstery. He began to slow down, then padded up to the driver's side door.

Cody nearly jumped out of her skin at the knock on her window. Waving away a little of the smoke, she managed to make out Hank's face looking in at her. I am so busted. She smiled uncontrollably, surreptitiously tamping out the lit end on the sole of her boot, then palming the joint as unobtrusively as possible. Of course, once she opened the door, the game was pretty much up, anyway. Sighing, she gave in and turned the handle.

He was assaulted by a veritable cloud of cannabinoid exhaust when she opened the door. "Uh, hey, Hank." She met him with a lopsided grin and bloodshot eyes. "What's up?" SO busted.

His eyebrow arched quizzically. "I was on my way to my car, when I caught sight of the cab of your truck filled with smoke. It appears my concern was unwarranted, as you yourself were the source of the fumes."

Cody nodded intently. She knew that at least part of what he said was funny, but she also knew instinctively that if she started laughing, she would not be able to stop anytime soon. It was difficult to tell whether or not she was in trouble. "I'm sorry if I, ah, made you worry. Everything's fine. Just peachy. No need to be concerned." Oh, babbling. That's good.

He folded his enormous arms across his equally enormous chest, tapping his fingers on his biceps. "One does not acquire a dozen PhD's without stepping foot on a college campus, my dear. I am acquainted with the smell of cannabis sativa. I'm just wondering why you felt compelled to crawl into an enclosed space and suffocate yourself with it. In light of that particular closed space being a motor vehicle, I do hope you weren't intending to drive under the influence of a mind-altering substance."

The sheer volume of words he was using was daunting, and it took her a moment to follow. "Oh, no! Nothing like that. It's, ah, medicinal." she said hastily.

"Medicinal, eh?" Fighting the smirk threatening to erupt across his features at any moment, he adjusted his spectacles. "As a physician, your current physician, I might add, I would be very interested in knowing what ailment it is being used to treat."

"Congenital...Loganitis."

"Loganitis? I don't believe I'm familiar with it." He frowned. "Care to elaborate?"

"It's Logan." The earnest expression she was working hard at collapsed into a fit of giggling. "I'm sick of him."

Hank couldn't help but chuckle himself.

When the laughter stopped, Cody wiped her eyes and looked up at him. "So, are you gonna narc on me, Hank?"

He sighed, shaking his head. "I probably should. However, since you have no intention of driving anywhere in this condition, you are hurting no one but yourself. I see no reason to inform anyone else." Regarding her over the rims of his spectacles, he added, "Provided I have your word that you will not engage in this sort of behavior when you are responsible for the safety of others."

Her hand formed something between a Boy Scout salute and a Vulcan "Live Long and Prosper" greeting. "Absolutely. You have my word." Something in her eyes told him she wasn't joking.

"All right then." He glanced at his watch. This diversion had cost him precious time. There was but a scant nineteen minutes before the convenience store closed its doors for the night. "I really must be off."

"Where are you going?"

"The Quickie Mart downtown." He was already heading toward his car.

"Mind if I tag along?" Cody had a sudden, almost unbearable craving for junk food. Plus, she was dying for a ride in that roadster. "I could really go for some Twinkies right now."

She had made the one request he could not refuse. Perhaps she might also be able to shed some light on the subject of her intensely bizarre genetic structure. "All right, but hurry. I have lost enough time to your antics already, young lady." With stunning agility, he hopped into the driver's seat opened the passenger door for her. Grinning, he put the car in gear. "Fasten your seatbelt."

* * * *


Standing at the living room window, Logan watched them go. "Where are they off to?" Together, his mind added crankily.

Kurt looked up from the book he was reading. "What?"

"Hank and that devil-woman. Where the hell are they going at quarter to midnight?"

"What business is it of ours? They are adults, you know." Even as he said it, he felt a little lead ball of disappointment drop and settle in his stomach. It's not as though we are involved. She is not beholden to me. Telling himself that somehow did not ease the ache in his chest, or take away the phantom taste of cigarette smoke on his lips.

* * * *


Cody burst into the Quickie Mart like a woman on a life-or-death mission, with Hank close behind. The adolescent clerk didn't bother glancing up from the pornography he was perusing. "We close in ten minutes."

"Not a problem, sweet thing. We'll be outta your hair in five." She made a beeline for the drink machine and poured herself a monumental blue raspberry Squishee, opening a bag of Doritos with her teeth while she waited for the cup to fill. Hank glanced at her askance. She rolled her eyes. "I'll pay for it." Her words were considerably muffled by a mouthful of half-chewed tortilla chips, but he got the gist.

She dashed down the aisles of the store with the ragged enthusiasm of a child, calling out snacks as he heated a burrito in the microwave. "Marshmallows?"

"Pass." He smiled. Her humor was infectious.

"Pop-tarts?"

"I think not." Say what you will about her, but she is undeniably engaging. If I were a few years youngerã

"Funyuns?"

That he actually had to think about. "Yes."

"Those microwave burritos smell really good. Throw one in for me, would ya? I'll grab the Twinkies." She staggered around the end of the aisle, arms laden with chips, snack-cakes, a huge blue Squishee, and two large bottles of water, looking for all the world like some perverse version of a harvest goddess. Dumping it on the counter in a heap, she glanced at the clock. 11:54. Not a personal best, but still up there.

She was about to congratulate herself when the door swung open. A man stormed up the counter, waving a Saturday Night Special, and barking orders in a voice that was very close to quavering. "Nobody move! This is a robbery!"

The clerk's hands went into the air, his skinny body shaking like a leaf.

Hank's eyes widened. "Oh my stars and garters." Even with his training and agility, he doubted he could neutralize the man without someone getting shot in the process. He was simply too far away. The gun swung around to point at him. "You! Stay back there, and hands where I can see them!" Hank complied, placing his palms on top of the back counter.

The gunman turned to the clerk. "All the money in the register. Now!"

"You know, dude, you're really harshin' my mellow," Cody said huffily.

What a rookie. He hadn't thought to bring a bag for the money, he reeked of fear (the layers of black clothes and the ski mask probably weren't helping with the sweating), and his gun smelled too clean. It had never even been fired. And what kind of self-respecting armed robber wears plaid high-tops?

"Lady, put your hands up!" The gun swung wildly in her direction.

Cody grabbed her Squishee off the counter and took a long sip. Her mouth was bone dry. And she was ravenous. "Look, buddy, just let me pay for my stuff, and I'll be outta your hair."

"Lady, you just don't get it. This is a robbery!" Hank saw the assailant getting more anxious by the second. Why, for the love of God, is she baiting him? Is she out of her mind? The clerk didn't seem to know what to do.

She stabbed a finger toward his chest. "No, you don't get it. I need these Twinkies. And this water. And these Funyuns. Right now."

"I will shoot you!" shouted the gunman, leveling the pistol inches from her chest. "I mean it!"

"Then do and get it over with, or let me get my munchies!"

The timer on the microwave went off, startling the already high-strung robber, who unintentionally discharged his weapon.

* * * *


Logan toyed with the remote, flipping restlessly through channels in the hopes of distracting himself. It wasn't working. Thoughts of her kept sneaking up on him, evoking a feeling that landed somewhere between a hot oil massage and fingernails on a chalkboard.

"Could you just pick one channel?" Kurt snapped. He had read the same page seven times, and retained nothing. Trying not to wonder what Cody and Hank were up to was sapping most of his concentration. The added distraction of channel surfing was not helping his mood.

"There's nothin' on."

"Then why not turn it off? Some of us are trying to read."

"You haven't turned a page for the last half an hour." Logan snorted.

* * * *


The shooter's eyes closed reflexively against the loud noise and the bright flash of fire coming out of the muzzle. He'd killed another human being. He hadn't meant to---everything had just happened so fast---and now there was no taking it back. What have I done?

When he opened his eyes, Cody was standing beside him. Before his brain could process what his eyes were seeing, she had put down the Squishee, disarmed him, and he hit the floor on his back. Standing over him, she pulled the pin and popped out the cylinder. Five unspent bullets fell on his chest. She tossed the empty revolver to Hank, then dropped down to straddle the gunman's chest. Yanking the ski mask off his face, she saw a young guy, probably no more than twenty, blond hair matted to the sides of his face with sweat. Blue eyes practically bulged out of his head. "But you---I shot you---"

Grabbing two fistfuls of his trenchcoat, she yanked him up so that their faces were inches apart. Her teeth looked very sharp. "Why did you do this?" she roared. "What's so important that you were willing to kill for it?"

He merely gaped at her, unable to speak.

"Tell me!"

"M-my dog! Chubby! He's in the pound and they're gonna put him to sleep if I don't get him out and I didn't have any money and----"

He's not lying. She eased him to the floor, but stayed on top of him. "What's your name, kid?"

"P-Paul." He sputtered.

"Okay, Paul. How much does it cost to get Chubby out of the clink?"

"What?" He was incredulous.

"How much?"

Paul swallowed. "Ninety-seven dollars."

Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a crinkled wad of bills and counted them out on his chest. "Okay. Here's a hundred." With a smooth dismount, she was on her feet looking down at him as he looked down at the money on his torso. "Take it."

He clutched it in shaking hands and she helped him to his feet. "Now, Paul, are you ever going to do anything like this again?"

He shook his head. "No."

"Good." She put her arm around his shoulder and led him to the door. "I'm very glad to hear it. Because if you do, I'll find you. And it will be bad. You know that, right, Paul?"

"Yes. Yes, I do." He had never been more certain of anything in his entire life.

Cody held the door open for him. "Now, go spring your buddy."

Paul ran as fast as his legs could carry him.

Hank watched Cody lope up the counter. He met her there in a single bound. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah." She shrugged. "It's all good." After rooting in her pockets, she looked sheepishly at the still-trembling clerk. "Hey, man, do you think you could comp us the snacks? I gave that guy all my money."

* * * *


Hearing the roadster pull up, Logan fought the urge to get out of his chair and go to the window. He patently refused to let the woman have that much power over him. He probably just gave her a ride into town, that's all. He'll walk in the door anytime now and go right back to his lab.

* * * *


Hank turned off the engine.

Cody was buried under three large grocery bags in the passenger seat. He had offered to put them in the trunk, but she'd insisted on holding them so she could snack on the drive back. "It was really cool of him to throw in the Slim-Jims and the Heineken." She said around a mouthful of Twinkie.

Yes, thought Hank. And the frozen pizzas, the five pints of ice cream, the carton of cigarettes, the bottle of Tequila, and the squirt guns. Despite his outwardly calm demeanor, he was still reeling from the events of the previous half-hour. He had been privy to some incredibly odd occurrences in his time, but none quite as quixotically bizarre as what had transpired in the Quickie Mart.

"Uh, little help, Hank?"

"Oh, yes. Certainly." He leapt out of the car and assisted her with her bags. "So, where would you like these?"

"My truck. That scene back there prettymuch melted my buzz, and I'm in no mood to be sober."

They threw the groceries inside. There were several things he wanted to talk to her about, but he found himself in a rare moment of speechlessness, just standing, looking down at his feet. He hadn't the faintest idea where to start.

Cody looked at him, taking in his mixed bouquet of apprehension and curiosity. "Wanna join me?" she asked rakishly.

"Oh, no, I couldn't possibly." The very idea sent a delightfully tempting shiver of sheer naughtiness tap-dancing up his spine.

"Get in the truck, Hank."

"Yes, ma'am."

Cody closed the doors, giggling like a little girl. Extracting a slightly rumpled joint from her jacket pocket, she held it out for him to take. He suddenly had a very clear idea of how Adam must have felt as he beheld Eve's shiny apple of doom. Sweet, dire temptation beckoned, but the choice was still his. Pinching the end gently between finger and thumb, he took it.

"Now remember, light the burnt end and inhale through the other." She was grinning insouciantly.

"Please, Cody, I have toked a doobie before, you know." Hank put it to his lips. He could hardly believe he was doing something so bad. The thrill was dizzying.

"Doobie?" Her derisive snort was mildly softened by her giddy smile. "That musta been back in the day."

"You know, I'm not ancient." He retorted indignantly.

"C'mon. Quite stallin' and fire up that bad boy."

"I require some form of ignition."

She hit the button on her glovebox. It popped open, overflowing with lighters of every description. A few tumbled onto the floor. "Take your pick."

He opened his mouth to ask, but she held up her hand. "I'll explain later. It's a much better story when you're baked."

Hank shrugged and lit up. Cody watched his chest expand like a great blue bellows as he inhaled slowly.

"Now, for some mood music." She slapped the frontspiece on the stereo and popped in a CD. Hank passed the joint over to her, doing his best to hold in the burning smoke. One of the most distinctive guitar riffs in rock and roll pumped out of the speakers, a jaunty little drumbeat on its heels:

When I die and they lay me to rest

Gonna go to the place that's the best

When I lay me down to die

Goin' up to the Spirit in the Sky


Cody took a leisurely hit, letting smoke course out of her mouth as she sang along, her voice a mangled and squeaky (if unintentional) parody of the dulcet soprano of the back-up singers. "Spi-ritt in the skaaaaaaahhhhhyyyyy..."

It made him giggle, sending little puffs of smoke shooting out of his nose.

That's where I'm gonna go

When I die


"When ah diiiiiiiieeeeeee...." She sounded like an asthmatic puppy learning how to howl.

Eyes watering, half-laughing and half-coughing, a torrent of smoke poured out of his mouth.

"Would you believe I've never had a single lesson?" she asked brightly.

Hank doubled over, laughing uncontrollably.

* * * *


It had been over ten minutes, and Hank had not come in and gone down to his lab. Logan was starting to itch. "What are they doing out there?"

"Something horrible, I'm sure." Kurt turned the page. He still failed to retain any of it, but at this point, the reading was entirely a pretense. Despite evidence to the contrary, he also nursed a small hope that at least one of them would come inside soon.

"Don't you even want to know what's going on out there?"

"No, I do not. What I would like to know is, why do you want to know so badly?"

"Hey, I'm just lookin' out for Hank. I mean, let's face it, the guy doesn't get out much, and who knows what that witch could be talkin' him into?"

Kurt rolled his eyes.

* * * *


"So, how long before this takes effect?" Hank asked.

Cody scrutinized him. "Well, taking into account your extensive lung capacity versus the size and efficiency of your brain, relating that to your body size and weight, factoring in your unusually fast metabolism..." She looked at a non-existent watch on her bare wrist. "I'd say, about...now."

* * * *


"What do you have against her, Logan?"

With some effort, he pushed back thoughts of exactly what he'd had had against her earlier. "What don't I have against her is more like it. She's unpredictable, she's vicious, and she's a pain in the ass. As far as I can tell, the only thing important to her is whatever wacko personal code she follows, and who knows what that is? She's stubborn. She's secretive. She's a loose cannon. She's--"

"Have you looked in the mirror lately, mein Freund?" Kurt did his best not appear smug, but it was difficult under the circumstances. His friend's complete lack of self-awareness was nothing short of staggering.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Logan's eyes narrowed dangerously.

* * * *


Hank was holding his palms up in front of his face, transfixed. "I never noticed."

"Never noticed what?"

"My hands. They're inordinately large. Huge, in fact. Verging on enormous."

Cody looked over. "Wow." Most people thought that at one time or another when they were high. But in his case, it was actually true. "You're not kidding. You could palm a medicine ball with those suckers."

They fell into a spontaneous fit of laughter, only to forget moments later what had been so funny.

"Cody, there's something about which I feel compelled to ask you."

She wedged a beer bottle under the dashboard and popped the top. "Fire away, Big Blue."

"At the convenience store, you...he...the gunman, that is to say, fired at you at point-blank range."

"Uh-huh."

"And you stepped out of the trajectory of the shot."

"Mmmm-hmmm."

"Well, it occurs to me that if you were quick enough to do so, that you were also more than capable of disarming him before he could have caused any trouble at all."

"Yup."

"So why didn't you?"

A curious little frown flickered across her brow, then vanished. "Because he needed to know what it was like to kill somebody."

It was Hank's turn to frown. "But he didn't kill anybody."

"But for a second, he thought he had. And it changed him." She gazed off through the windshield, her eyes seeing another landscape altogether. "Most people never get a second chance. They pull that trigger for the first time, and they don't get how permanent that is. There's no way to get it until you actually do it; and then, somebody's dead, and you can't undo it." In the dim light, he could see her eyes shining. "And part of you dies there with 'em. You never get it back."

"Why did you let him go? How can you be sure he won't do something similar in the future?"

"Trust me, he won't. He wasn't a bad kid. Just desperate. I just showed him that there's always someone more desperate out there somewhere." She took a long pull off the bottle, then belched unceremoniously. "Besides, gotta help the little cousins."

"Little cousins?"

"Dogs."

"Dogs?"

"Dogs."

Hank did his best to digest this, but thoughts slipped like greased eels through his well-lubricated mind. He couldn't seem to hold onto any one of them for any length of time before something else flitted along. "So," he said. "You're 'faster than a speeding bullet.'"

Cody flexed her bicep. "And more powerful than a locomotive."

"Can you leap tall buildings in a single bound?"

"Right now? Oh, yeah."

* * * *


"We are nothin' alike." Logan growled.

"You're right. Cody has a sense of humor. And she's much prettier than you."

"Don't push it, elf."

"You know, your powers of denial are truly remarkable." Kurt sighed. "How can you not see it? Everyone else does."

"Whaddya mean? There's nothin' to see." Logan shifted uncomfortably.

"Every time the two of you are in a room together, sparks fly. And on occasion, insults, punches, furniture---"

"You got a point?"

"Yes. Neither of you is willing to back down, and both of you make the rest of us suffer for it."

"Hey, I'm not the one goin' around makin' cracks and flashin' people."

"No. You're the one going out of his way to make her feel uncomfortable and unwelcome." He folded his arms. "Though I suppose Jean is not exactly blameless in that department, either."

"Lay off Jean." Logan scowled.

"Then 'lay off' Cody."

"Why are you stickin' up for her?"

"Because somebody should." Kurt snarled. "We are a team. We have each other. Cody has no one. The Professor is running her through test after test like some sort of lab rat, and no one is telling her anything. How would you react? She's not stupid, Logan. She has to know that more is going on here, and she's being shut out."

* * * *


"Enlighten me about the lighters."

"If you can still make bad puns, you're not nearly baked enough."

They were lying on their backs in the grass out by the lake, star-gazing. Cody's eyes tripped across the skyscape, lazily following the Milky Way, a white streak against the black.

"I implore you. My mind seems to have become fixated on it, rendering my curiosity insatiable." Hank was not being facetious in the least. He genuinely needed to know.

"Okay, okay. But first," her voice had a mischievous edge. "You have to tell me something. When you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?"

Hank stiffened. It would have been an innocuous question coming from anyone else, but he was well acquainted with Cody's unnatural ability to discern the truth. The answer was attached to no small amount of pain and regret. "What is this, some odd form of trade-and-barter?" He attempted a chuckle, but it came out sounding nervous and forced.

"Hey, man, I'm an Indian. That's how we do it."

"You are not entirely Native American, my dear. I have seen your genes, you know. Which reminds me---"

"Ah, ah, ah." She wasn't letting him off that easy, especially not when she'd obviously struck a nerve. "Those're the terms, Blue. Take it or leave it."

"All right, I accept."

"So, what did you want to be, more than anything in the world?" She rolled over on her stomach and looked down into his face.

"Normal." The word was heavy as a stone, and light as a dream.

She laughed. Loudly. Previously, she had revealed herself to be eccentric, but he had never thought she was cruel. Now, he wanted nothing more than to crawl inside himself and disappear. "Would you mind telling me what you find so amusing?"

"You. I find you amusing." Cody planted her hands and flung herself over into a sitting position. "Let me get this straight: You've got like, what, a dozen PhD's, the agility of a professional contortionist, you're stronger than a gorilla, you're easy on the eye, and you're blue. And you're bitchin' because you're not like everybody else? Believe me, Hank, I've met everybody else. You don't want to be like them."

"I would be willing to wager that they are considerably less lonely than I am." He said to the heavens.

"You're wrong about that. Everyone's lonely. It's the nature of being. We can share our lives, our hearts, our souls, all of it, but we are born alone and we die alone. Everybody. No exceptions. Some people are just better at ignoring it than others."

He turned on his side to look at her. "Aren't you a bit young to be so cynical?"

"I got an early start."

A thought, almost lost, caught up to him. "Do you really find me...easy on the eye?"

She smiled, tilting her head to glance at him. "Way."

* * * *


"She's here because the Professor did her a favor. And she's payin' him back by playin' his team off against each other. You're just not seein' it because she's got you wrapped around her little finger." The last part came out harder than he'd intended, but Kurt deserved the truth, whether he wanted to hear it or not.

Logan could hear the muscles in his friend's jaw tighten before he spoke. "I am not 'wrapped around her finger.'"

"Can't you see she's stringin' you along? You follow her around like some lovesick dog, waitin' for her to throw you a bone."

Kurt had had just about enough. He was frustrated with Logan, with Cody, with the whole situation. If his best friend wasn't going to pull any punches, then neither would he. "Yes, of course you're right. After all, your relationship with Jean makes you an expert."

* * * *


"So, now, honor your end of the agreement and explain to me why you have a glove compartment full of lighters."

Cody took out her tobacco pouch and proceeded to roll herself a smoke. "Well, it's like this...A long, long time agoã"

"'In a galaxy far, far away?"

"Hey, do you want to hear this or not, smartass?"

"I apologize. Do go on."

She took in a breath. "Anyway, people were whining. A lot. You see, night was a new thing, back then, newer even than people, and they just weren't prepared to cope. It was dark, and they couldn't see. It was cold and they had no fur. In fact, that's how snuggling was invented. But I digress." As Hank watched, the cigarette seemed to ignite itself on its way to her lips. "But, despite the snuggling, people were still mostly cold and scared. So, the whining continued, every night, as soon as the sun went down. Needless to say, this began to piss off the animals (who'd never seen such a big bunch of crybabies in all their lives), so they all got together to do something about it.

"Like any big group dealing with a problem, no one wanted to take responsibility for it, and everyone was looking to blame someone else. Since Coyote was late to the meeting, and drunk, they figured they'd pin it on him. 'Coyote,' they said, 'This is your fault. You were the one who made people in the first place. But you didn't make them well enough. Their skins are too thin and their voices are too loud and they're workin' everyone's last nerve, and you better fix it.'

"So, Coyote says, 'Okay, I'll fix it.' And he trots off to go visit the people he made. He walks across mesas, through canyons, up and down mountains, and he knows he's gettin' closer because he can hear them, moaning and crying, like it's the end of the world instead of just a little darkness. The closer he gets, the louder it gets, and pretty soon he's got his hands over his ears, wondering if they haven't all driven each other deaf. And seeing him, the people stopped their crying and ran to him, tugging on his arms and legs like little children, saying, 'Coyote, it's cold, and it's dark, and we didn't sign on for this.'

"And Coyote asks, 'What about the stars? I gave you those. And the moon. (That's also another story, but no one's sure how true it is.) What about the snuggling? You all seemed to think that was pretty good, huh?'

"'But it's not enough,' they said. The moon and stars are pretty, but they don't keep us warm. We need something more than that.'

"So, Coyote says, 'Okay, okay. Hang tight for a few days, and I'll take care of it.'

"See, Coyote has an idea. He's heard of this stuff called Fire. Light and heat all in one package, and portable. Problem is, the only place you can find it is in this cave way up in the mountains, guarded by this big 'ol demon. And the demon is really not the sharing type. Anyhoo, our hero hotfoots it to the aforementioned cave, and very sneakily takes a tour of the grounds. What luck! The big, stingy demon is asleep, and the hearth is just full of Fire. He's never seen anything half so bright and beautiful. A little piece of the sun. And no one'll miss just a little bit of it, right? So, breakin' out a bowl he brought along just for this very purpose, he scoops a little fire into it, and makes for the nearest exit. Thing is, he's so mesmerized by the flames, jumping and sparking right in front of his eyes, that he's not lookin' where's he going, and he bumps a clay pot, and boom, crash, the demon is awake."

Knowing she was at a critical, cliff-hanging point in the story, Cody paused and took a leisurely sip of beer, checking out of the corner of her eye to make sure Hank was on the edge of his seat. He was.

"So, Coyote hi-tails it out of there, running for his life with that demon on his heels. Now, make no mistake, our boyis fast, but that demon is gaining. Coyote looks up, and sees Hawk, drifting on the thermals right above his head,and he calls to him and throws the bowl. Hawk catches it and flies away, and the demon goes right after him, andCoyote gets a chance to catch his breath. When the demon got too close for comfort, Hawk dropped the fire toBullfrog, who held the bowl in his mouth and dove under the water. Then, he passed it to Rabbit, who took itunderground, running through burrows that were way too small for the demon to get into. By then, Coyote had hissecond wind, and Rabbit handed the bowl off to him. The demon was pretty well worn out by this time, and Coyoteran the bowl to his people." Cody smiled proudly. "And that is how man got fire."

Hank blinked. He was not entirely sure, but he had a strong impression that he he'd been bamboozled. "An intriguing narrative, to be sure, but I fail to understand how it explains the lighters."

"Sure it does."

"In what way?"

"That's classified. I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to tell you anymore than that. But I will tell you this: You have all the information you need to figure it out. And with your big, throbbing frontal lobes, I'm sure you'll get it. Eventually."

* * * *


"I'm warnin' you, elf." Logan's fists were starting to clench. "Drop it."

"I did not start it." Kurt folded his arms. "But perhaps it is time I finished it."

Logan growled with no small amount of menace.

Kurt continued anyway. "My relationship to Cody is none of your business. In point of fact, Cody's relationship to anyone but yourself is none of your business."

"You wouldn't say that if you knew what she was doin' with Peter in her spare time." He shot back.

Kurt swallowed a desperate curiosity to ask Logan what he meant, but he felt his chest constrict and throat tighten simultaneously. "And even if it was any of your business, I cannot believe you, of all people, would question my judgment, not after the way you've been pining over Jean all this time."

* * * *


Cody and Hank stood back to back out in the field, pistols at the ready.

"Okay."

They counted out: "One...Two...Three..." taking accompanying steps until they were ten sloppy, uneven paces apart, then turned, and took aim with their squirt guns.

"Fire!"

At the signal, they did their best to shoot tequila into each other's mouths. Mostly, their aim was not quite what it could have been, and they were left with wet shirts and stinging eyes. They collapsed, laughing, on the lawn.

* * * *


That last crack had stung pretty good. Truth to tell, he hadn't thought the elf had it in him. Logan took a breath. "Fine. Keep the wool down over your eyes. But when she screws you over, don't come to me for a pep talk." He turned on his heel and stalked out of the room.

"I won't!" Kurt called after him. He sighed, looking at the ceiling, then walked to his own room.

* * * *


They were sitting on the dock, drinking beer and staring out at the lake.

Hank took a deep breath of sweet night air, inadvertently sucking down a mouthful of second hand smoke from Cody's cigarette. He sputtered a little before recovering.

"Sorry, Blue."

"How can you smoke those things? They'll kill you."

"Ask Kurt. I already had this conversation with him."

Noting the tension in her voice at the mention of his friend's name, he came the conclusion that discretion was the better part of valor, and elected not to press.

She gazed out over the vista, straining to look as far west as she could. "You know, the sky seems so small out here, so fenced-in. Out west, it just goes on forever."

Cody said wistfully. "And the sunsets just kick your ass, they're so gorgeous."

He chuckled. She certainly had a way with words.

"Tell me something beautiful."

"Hmmmm..." His mind tumbled and sifted for a moment, then it came to him. "'She walks in beauty like the night, of cloudless climes and starry skies, and all that's best of dark and bright meet in her aspect and her eyes." The words fell from his mouth like a handful of gems, his baritone rich as dark chocolate. No, better than chocolate.

"More. Tell me more." She said hungrily.

A bit startled, Hank cast about for something to say. He honestly could not remember the last time someone had wanted to hear him talk. Especially a woman. Perhaps it had never happened. Taking a deep breath, he loosed a little Shakespeare to ring resonantly in the night air. "'If it be now, 'tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come: the readiness is all.'"

She lay on her back and sighed. It felt like he was caressing her brain with words, ethereal fingers traipsing deliciously over her mental curves. Pathways that had never been tread were opening inside her head. An entirely new sensation. Delicious.

He looked down at her, noting the flush on her cheeks, the way her arm rested across her forehead, her breath coming shallow and quick. He had never seen anything like it. It stirred him. Perhaps a bit of Churchill. "Let us therefore brace ourselves to our duty, so bear ourselves that if the British Empire and its Commonwealth last for a thousand years, men will still say, 'this was their finest hour.'"

A low utterance, sounding suspiciously like a moan, rumbled from her throat.

He was aching to see what kind of effect William Blake would have on her. "'To see a world in a grain of sand, And heaven in a wildflower, to hold infinity in the palm of your hand, and eternity in an hour.'"

Her body arched, the heels of her cowboy boots digging into the planks, and a long, blissful breath escaped her lips.

Hank swallowed. Did what I think just happened...just happen?

"Wow." Cody blinked. "Hank, you have the sexiest brain I've ever seen. I just want to crack your head open and lick all the creases."

There was a moment of stunned silence. It was most interesting compliment he had ever received, but he had not the faintest idea how to respond to it. His ego was swelling so far beyond its usual tight confines it was painful.

"I said that last part out loud, didn't I?" She asked.

He emitted a rather stunned chuckle. "I'm afraid so."

"Damn." She shrugged. "Oh, well."



CHAPTERS:   1   2   3   4   5   6   7




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