Never. Ever. Give Logan M'n'Ms.

A/N: the much wanted second part to the once single piece. This has given me much pain to write, simply because I've had so much to do I haven't been able to get around to it. Heh. Do note that there won't be another piece to this, as I'm not going to stretch the concept that thin. Have fun reading: invariably, I didn't find it funny, but you might. Oh, I don't know. Enjoy- and thanks to all those who read and reviewed the last chapter.

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Excerpts taken from the journal of Dr. J.E. Grey.

Research is going surprisingly well; seeing as the mutant genome is temperamental (at best). I was expecting for erratic, anomalous results with no correlation, but the psionic mutants that I have samples from (including my own) do seem to be exhibiting patterns. I just have to work out exactly what this pattern is before I go onto physical mutation to try and make a link.

But, joyous news aside, we've got a problem in the mansion. For the last week, here's been a ghoul hiding in the air con system. The fact that this ghoul happens to be the resident grease monkey and the only math teacher in the place is significant enough to mean that all peaceful routine in the school has been shot to hell.

It's not as if Logan wants to kill him any more, seriously. He's actually (surprisingly enough) completely calm, and told me at breakfast yesterday that having Scott out of the ventilation system would be the best thing, namely because he's having to cover some of his math lessons, when Hank's not able to fill in- Logan. In a classroom. The thought makes me laugh. I've been reliably informed that the resident Wolverine now wants to laugh at Scott, not stab him. After all, whilst Logan has no memory of the incident (sugar does that to him), and is a complete unknown. On the other hand, Scott can remember the whole thing, is a teacher (which means that he goes to conferences and the like) and has his shame immortalised forever all over the internet- including a website the students made; so I went and had a look. So sue me. I wasn't there at the time, and I thought that Scott was overreacting when he didn't come out for the first day (let alone the eighth...), and at that point, I could see why. Bobby, John and Jubilee caught the footage (it's done very well, to their credit, but that's against the point), a photo gallery was constructed, they added a directors commentary over the top of one video examining making out technique, telling Scott off for swearing, and other things that ensure that his reputation as a straight laced math teacher has been completely shot to hell.

That was completely irrational thought there, admittedly. Which moron traps themselves in a place with only one exit if they're being chased? Nit-wit. I suppose that he can be forgiven though; I don't think he's ever been chased by a guy before, let alone being put through kiss chase from someone who normally hates his guts, and he takes pleasure in not liking much in return. Although, Scott's very cute when he's flustered and has no idea what to do.

I cannot believe he panicked, though. Scott doesn't panic. Normally he raises an eyebrow and moves on. What on earth happened: what thought processes went through his head at that moment? I hate to think. Something about Logan... not acting like Logan must have sent him round the twist. Great team leader, who gets thrown off course whenever someone acts even slightly strangely. No, that's stupid, let alone unfair. Let's attribute it to the fact that this is Logan we're talking about- not anyone else (heck, Scott could stare down Magneto if he really wanted to). Logan who he doesn't like at all. Logan who steals his motorbike and tries to flirt with me. Logan who doesn't seem to recognise the ides of 'my territory. Back off and find your own.'

This doesn't mean that we're all being run ragged trying to do without him. Putting it in a matter of fact way, without Scott, the mansion would not -- does not -- function correctly. Danger room practice has been put on hold until we can get him out of the shafts, and knowing him (stubborn as a mule if he has to be), that's not going to happen any time soon.

I think I'll go and find him tomorrow. He's had enough time hiding in shame; plus, it's cold without him. Scott is remarkably warm, like a hot water bottle (he absorbs the sun's rays, retains the heat but loses the energy through his blasts) and it's freezing in this room without him. Another reason I need him back- he needs to fix the radiator in here.

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Asked Charles where Scott is this morning, and he's going to look later (if using telepathy can be classed as looking, that is). Students are falling about with laughter because he can't show his face at the minute, I'm feeling sorry for him, and am sure that they won't entice him to come out of his hiding place. I'll go this evening: I can't spare any time right now because my current DNA sample is acting a bit weirdly, and I need to go monitor the situation. I'm sure that he can wait a couple of hours; in fact, it's his sample that's mucking me around at the minute. Damn you, Scott. Stupid DNA of yours is screwing up my correlation, and everyone else's samples have fitted in nicely, but yours just has to bugger up, doesn't it?

Ah, these things happen, I suppose. Must run: could call Hank too, to get his slant on the matter. He'd be interested, I think: and he might help with getting Scott out of the vents. You never know.

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Am about to climb into the vents and find my somewhat elusive fiancé. Professor X is certain that he's not going anywhere and has told me that he will owe me a massive favour if I do manage to achieve the seemingly impossible; we're all tired of running ourselves ragged.

Damn you and your stubborn streak, Scott. Damn you.

If he'd come out before now, everything would be so much easier. Maybe he was waiting for half term, when some of the students would go home, I don't know. Trying to examine Scott's thoughts when he doesn't want you to is a nightmare: there's a mental equivalent of the Great Wall of China circling his mind. He's far too good at the mental blocking thing.

Anyway, never mind that. Things to do, places to go, sane minds to save, one ever so slightly paranoid, very stubborn twenty nine year old to pull out of the ventilation system and reassure that everything is all fine before letting him out to the slaughter... life never gets easier.

It's a good thing that I'm not claustrophobic (unlike Ororo, bless her), but I think a torch may be in order.

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I did have to literally pull Scott out of the vents. Sadly, it took longer than I expected: once he'd realised that someone else was in the tunnels, he was crawling at full pelt to get away, bless him. He really is neurotic to the point of stupidity at times. I might have been that I kind of forgot to tell him that it was me, not some student trying for an interview about the events of the last few days (to add to the blog that they have on the website- when I last checked it, they were laughing about him still not coming out). Or, for that matter, that Logan was back on a sugar high and on his trail again, or off the glucose induced happy fit and ready to kill him. Whoops.

You don't corner Scott. He just fights out of said corner if he can and runs for it; which failed spectacularly to his disadvantage the other week, but still, he doesn't take to it well. Old habits die hard, I suppose. However, when he realised that it was me (well, I had to stop him moving by doing a convenient telekinetic pinning technique: which no one else could), he still didn't want to join the respectable outside world, so persuading him was somewhat problematic.

Yes, as I predicted, he was planning to stay in that hole until half term. Don't ask me how, or why. I'm not going to question it: although there will, no doubt, be a completely rational answer, I'm more worried about the cold he picked up by sitting in the pouring rain trying to extinguish his scent. Logical, but stupid none the less.

However, he's now out, and there is a definite mental sigh of relief flooding through the mansion. Hank was doing lesson plans for him whilst he was away, and teaching for much of the time as well, and everyone was struggling with the work he was setting (on Wednesday, Jubilee was shouting through the ventilation grille in her bedroom almost in tears over the polynomials they'd been given for homework, pleading for help: they were getting through 3D trigonometry before the incident occurred, then rapidly accelerated into more advanced math that no one -- sans Doug -- can do.)

Logan came to find me about fifteen minutes ago, took one look at Scott and began to laugh so much I thought his ribs were going to crack. Scott's poker face was slipping, and I'd seen the expression he was harbouring before. It was the legendary 'you just wait. I'm going to make your life hell' look that he'd often shared when we were students. Oh dear. I hate to think what could possibly happen next.

But, that's against the point. He's back, equilibrium has been restored, I'll be nice and warm this evening, and I'm going to have to tell Bobby, Jubes and John not to keep flashing about the photos and web address, or they'll end up with some horrific, quite possibly mathematically related, punishment for the gross exploitation of soda and peanut M'n'Ms.

The offending substances might even get banned from the house. And that would make all our lives invariably easier, although the rebellion wouldn't be worth it. Come on, these are teenagers we're talking about.

But, a general conclusion for the last couple of weeks' exhibition...

Never. Ever. Give Logan M'n'Ms.