Categories > Movies > X-Men: The Movie > Days of the Phoenix

Side Projects

by Plutospawn 0 Reviews

"You'd assume wrong then, my friend," Hank replied. "Trish isn't quite tall enough to blacken my eye. She cracks ribs."

Category: X-Men: The Movie - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Action/Adventure - Characters: Magneto, Mystique, Pyro - Published: 2005/09/03 - Updated: 2005/09/04 - 1484 words

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"What happened to you?"
Hank quirked an eyebrow as he glanced at his assistant. "Interesting. I was going to ask you the same thing."
Warren shot the doctor a petulant look. "What do you mean?"
"Do you mean to tell me that your particular choice in garments wasn't influenced in the least by unspeakable activities that you and your lady friend engaged in last night?" Hank gestured crudely to Warren's turtleneck.
"Whatever 'unspeakable activities' that you're talking about I can assure you that it was between two consenting adults," Warren snorted. "Should I just assume that you and Trish had an argument and shut up?"
"You'd assume wrong then, my friend," Hank replied. "Trish isn't quite tall enough to blacken my eye. She cracks ribs."
Warren raised an eyebrow. "I take it that I don't want to know."
"Nothing too horrible, I assure you," Hank said. "I was just helping an old friend."
"It seems pretty bizarre to me to have a friend break your face," Warren muttered.
"So it would seem." Hank sighed. "Here. I'd like you to write up some new labels. My handwriting's too illegible anymore."
"Of course." Warren accepted the stack of paperwork that Dr. McCoy presented him with. The younger man sat down on a stool and pulled a pen from his pocket.
Hank exchanged one slide for another and peered anxiously through the microscope. He shook his head, perplexed and again replaced the slide with another.
"Dr. McCoy, what are all these files on?" Warren flipped through the stack of papers in his lap.
"Just a little side project," Hank muttered. He scowled over the microscope.
"It looks to me like you've been getting more and more side projects," Warren brooded. "First that Rachel girl and now this one. HIV, AIDS, hepatitis, cancer... what's all this about?"
"Most cancers. Like leukemia. I'm sure that smoking would still be detrimental to a mutant's health regardless of any healing factors," Hank corrected. "I told you that my notes are illegible. I ran some tests with the X-gene. As it turns out mutants are immune to several diseases that mankind has no cure for."
"But what about what you and I have been working on for the past few months?" Warren insisted. "Did you give up on that?"
"But isn't it amazing what the X-gene is capable of?" Hank continued. "Not only do we have powers, but we're immune to disease. What else?"
"Are you sure all mutants are immune or is it just a few?" Warren grumbled.
"I have numerous DNA and blood samples," Hank replied. "This school of Xavier's is an untapped treasure trove for research."
"Who cares about the X-gene?" Warren argued. "I thought you and I decided to find a way to eradicate it so that we could just be normal."
Warren pounded his fist on a countertop for effect. Hank blinked and let silence envelop them.
"Well?" Warren demanded.
"Trish found out," Hank said hoarsely.
"She left you, didn't she?" Warren shook his head, somber.
Hank chuckled to himself. "No. No she didn't." He laughed again.
"Well, what then?" Warren's blue eyes narrowed with frustration.
"She doesn't have a problem with it at all." Hank looked dumbfounded. "She loves me, Warren."
"So you're just going to give up on our work?" Warren asked.
"I don't see the need for it anymore," Hank confessed.
"You don't see the need for it?" Warren leapt to his feet. "Have you lost your mind? Does the Mutant Registration Act mean anything at all to you? Maybe you and your ape-like proportions can blend in with humans but what about me?"
"You had them surgically removed," was Hank's half-hearted argument.
"And the damned monstrosities grew back!" Warren countered. "If you don't want to continue this, that's fine, but you have to tell me. There's a Dr. Essex that's been researching mutant DNA also, I'll just take my funding to him."
"Warren, I'm not trying to get you angry, I just want to be positive that this is the right course of action." Hank kept his voice low and calm.
"How could it not be?" Warren spat bitterly. "I can't even go to a store and buy a shirt anymore without needing it altered."
"What I mean to say is that there won't be a single 'cure-all' injection," Hank bowled over his assistant's complaints. "Just a glance at two different sets of mutant DNA will tell you that much. I have a prototype, but I'm uncertain about it as of yet."
"Let me take it," Warren said quietly.
"No. Didn't you just hear what I said? I said that I'm uncertain about it." Hank tried to stare down his assistant.
"What better way to be certain?" Warren argued. "If it doesn't work, what's the worst that could happen? But if it did, think of the breakthrough we'd be responsible for."
"What if it kills you?" Hank demanded. "I won't take that risk. I need more time. I need to take more tests."
"You need to stop dancing around this!" Warren exploded. "Stop playing at school physician and do what you've been paid to do."
"I know where my priorities are," Hank insisted.
"Then prove it," Warren said. "Let's do it. Let's test this prototype."
An angry streak of blond hair obscured Warren's eyes. He began to roll up his shirt sleeve.
"I didn't design it with your DNA in mind," Hank murmured.
"It's for you?" Warren wasn't asking.
"I'd like more time," Hank said softly.
A pulsing vein emerged in Warren's forehead but he controlled himself. "A week," he said sternly. "I'll give you a week to finish up your testing. Then I want to see this prototype put to use. You can use it, or you can concoct one for me to use."
"What if I'm not ready?" Hank ventured.
"Then I'll take our data and your funding to Dr. Essex," Warren answered.
"Fair enough." Hank nodded grimly.
"I thought so," Warren said. "I should go now. I've got things to take care of."
Hank didn't bother to look up as Warren left. Instead, the doctor took a seat before his work.
"Oh dear," he murmured. "Oh dear."
*
"I'm pleased that you could find some time off from your busy schedule to meet with the rest of us," Erik said.
The blue mutant, Mystique smirked knowingly as the older man brooded over a cup of tea. Their chemistry was set on edge by the sound of angry flicks of a lighter. St. John Allerdyce stood behind Magneto's left arm, a dark expression on the boy's face as he watched Mystique.
Mystique glided to her seat like liquid. She spared the teen an aloof glance that chilled him.
"So." Erik paused to sip his tea. "I hear that Robert Kelly's campaign agenda is rather hectic at the moment. But so is Graydon Creed's."
"I think that this has gone on long enough," Mystique's smooth voice cut through the air. "We should have taken care of Creed already."
"Patience, Raven," Erik chided. "If you were a wolf, would you devour your young?"
Mystique kept silent, but her yellow eyes spoke murder. John shut his lighter with a rigid snap. Erik gave the boy a stern look.
"The longer this goes on, the more risk, right?" John spoke up.
Mystique let a smile grace her lips as she looked at Erik. The old man seemed undisturbed as he quietly drank his tea, but John's lighter was wrenched from the boy's grip and landed on the table before the Master of Magnetism.
"You are both too hot blooded," Erik said. "This is business, Raven. You promised me it wouldn't turn into a personal vendetta."
"You also promised that we would kill Creed," she retorted icily.
"Oh we will." Erik smiled. "We will."
"Let me do it," Mystique urged.
"No," Erik said. "You need to be Kelly. I'll not have it look like it was his camp's doing."
Mystique scowled.
"Then who?" John asked. "I'll do it if you want."
"No, Pyro," Erik answered. "You are more valuable elsewhere."
"So you want to do it?" Mystique accused. "You have no right to rob me of this for your own personal glory."
"Hardly." Erik chuckled. "I need to be free to ensure that you all behave and do as you're told. Victor will do it."
"Victor?" Mystique's beautiful face contorted with rage. "That animal has already done enough! How dare you allow him the one thing I deserve?"
"Enough," Erik warned. "I need you as Kelly. Let him do the mindless slaughtering, your subtle finesse is more beneficial in other areas. Have you lost sight of what we are planning?"
"What about me?" John asked. "You said you needed me."
"I do." Erik spared the boy a curt smile. "Xavier and his students have emotional ties to you."
"So?"
"So, I need you to keep them busy."
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