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Meet the Fuckers; 5/23 - Night, Rachel, Calvin, Others
Topic Started: Jun 9 2013, 11:04 PM (676 Views)
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Right, so they were well on the way to getting a working Hope-dictionary going now, thanks to some timely application of logic from her little sister’s father. Bear wasn’t a new name for her Dad (too bad for Mimic, given the alternative little Sis had settled on so far), but for the stuffed animal she’d been introduced to back down in the Infirmary. Having got this reconfirmed by Hope herself, they could set about looking for the thus designated ‘Bear’.

Having to admit that she didn’t remember where the safe place she’d tucked the animal was might make Hope’s face fall, but Rachel was pretty confident in their ability to track him down.

Or - okay, another correction to the dictionary draft there, to register the fact that apparently Bear was of a feminine persuasion. Or possibly that Hope was already contrary for the sake of it, or that something about Grandma Grey’s genes could skip generations under certain circumstances. Either way, gender normative tendencies didn’t change the basic equation: Bear was somewhere ‘safe’, and they were going to track her down, and the better to do that (or at least the funner to do that), as Calvin got to looking around the room, Rachel lifted her little sister into the air and bade her keep an eye out from up there.

"Okay," Hope agreed with another nod and set about looking the room up and down and sideways too, while Rachel mentally weighed the potential chaos (and future headaches) she’d cause Calvin if she gave into a whim to turn the furniture upside down in the air too, the better to hunt.

"Now why didn't I think of that?" Mimic asked, smiling over at Hope in the midst of turning up the cushions on the sofa. Rachel had a personal suspicion that it had something to do with a (clearly impoverished) childhood that hadn’t had a good proportion of its time spent in the air, whether under telekinetic, spaceflight, or antigrav power, but she was keeping that observation to herself, sticking to an amused smile of her own in response instead, while Hope’s father asked her if she’d taken Bear into the bedroom that was just off this sitting room.

Hope giving a firm shake of the head and a No (or at least an uh-uh) to this suggestion, the two of them got back to looking around the room, high and low. "All right, gotta be in here somewhere, then," Mimic declared, in tones that sounded more confident than his thoughts did. "Lemme look behind the sofa." Ah well - worst came to the worst, Rachel knew could probably pull a pretty good new version of Bear out of air molecules and Hope’s memory, but you couldn’t really go about replacing stuffed animals and pretending they were the same, anymore than you could do it with friends.

"Bear?" Hope called out hopefully, trying to lean over and look behind the sofa, which her dad had floated a little ways off the floor and into the center of the room, apparently the better to see behind it, "Bear! Where'd you go?"

Letting her sister drift the way she wanted to get a better view with a wave of one hand, Rachel cast another speculative gaze around the room as a whole, leaving the actual business of craning over the sofa and searching for the hidden stuffed animal to Mimic. "Not there, Hope, but we're still looking," he reported with a shake of his head and an apologetic look, then a shrug in Rachel’s direction before he shifted over to the next piece of furniture.

No luck yet, but though Hope didn’t quite seem ready to give up her name just yet, Rachel came to a quick decision, punctuated this resolution with a pair of quick, decisive claps of her hands and a wide grin. “Alright. Desperate times call for a lack of sensible resisty will power,” she told the two of them, and then with a (completely unnecessary) flourishy gesture with both hands as if she was turning a shirt inside out, she took hold of every piece of furniture in the room, and set them rising in the air.

Most of them, anyway. A couple of heavier pieces jiggled slightly instead of floating, and turned out to be bolted to the floor, probably as a concession to the fact they were in a giant flying aircraft carrier type thing which ran under at least some risk of losing stable gravity every once and a while. “Hmmm...” Rachel added with a thoughtful frown, quickly weighing the cost/benefit breakdown of the likelihood Hope would actually have been able to stuff a bear in or under the dresser-y type thing over by the wall vs. going through using the Force to decompose the heavy bolts in her mind.

Only for a moment though, because really, where was the fun in getting an opportunity to one-up Mary Poppins and then not going all the way, right? With that in mind, the telepath waved her hand again, atomizing the bolts and letting the last few pieces of furniture join their friends (and Hope), hovering in the air.

A quick check around the floor failed to reveal any kind of furry friend, whether bear or wombat or meerkat or otherwise, so Rachel proceeded with letting the various pieces of furniture spin over in slow somersaults, careful to keep them all out of the way of the still-floating Hope. Had to be under one of the cushions or other, presumably, and sure enough, after a couple of seconds, Hope - who was looking back her way - suddenly broke into a happy grin. “Bear!!” she declared, pointing one small finger in a direction just behind Rachel, who turned just in time to arrest the free-fall the stuffed animal was making from the chair she herself had been sitting in all this time.

“When did you go stuffing it there, huh?” she asked her little sister, cocking one eyebrow in query, though there was no help for even trying to pretend to a serious expression when Hope was grinning at that. “Never mind, she was good and safe all along,” she added for good measure, as she zoomed the stuffed animal and his - wait, no, her - owner back to the center of the room for a happy tackle hugging reunion that even Kitty would have been proud of.

She should probably put the furniture back at this point, Rachel knew, but she still couldn’t resist taking her time with that and shooting another satisfied gaze around the room at her own handiwork. Chaos and floating furniture and furry hugs - essential components of a recipe for childhood happiness, if you asked her.
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Ah, shit. Where was that damned bear?

Rachel had cushions and all kinds of shit floating around in the air, the sofa was hovering a few inches off the floor as he moved it to look behind it, Hope was floating in the air craning her head all around trying to help look for it. Still no sign of the damned thing.

The place wasn't that big, how the hell had it disappeared so fast?

Not behind the sofa. Shit. And there went Hope, calling out for her stuffed animal like it was gonna pipe up from somewhere and answer her. Had the corners of his mouth twitching up, even as Calvin was trying to figure out where the hell to look next. Hope didn't seem to think she'd left it in the bedroom, but hell, maybe he should look anyway, just to be sure.

Before he could head that way, Rachel seemed to come to some kinda decision or other, clapping her hands together and having him swivel his head around just as Hope did the same. “Alright. Desperate times call for a lack of sensible resisty will power,” she told the two of them and fuck, did that sound just a little cheerfully ominous or was it just him?

Not much time to figure it out, though, since Rachel was waving her hands around like a magician about to pull a rabbit out of a top hat, (or maybe turn the whole damned helicarrier inside out, but he was trying not to think about that one) and suddenly all the furniture was floating around the room like they'd just walked face first into a Disney Movie.

Well, she, he'd have never have thought of that, and probably couldn't have managed it if he had without borrowing the powers of the redhead currently doing the Bedknobs and Broomsticks re-enactment.

A couple of pieces were still stubbornly stuck to the floor and Calvin realized it was probably because they were bolted down. So when the fucking thing crashed they wouldn't get brained by the major pieces of furniture on the way to their fiery death. Yeah, that was great.

"Do you think you oughta-" the winged man started as Hope giggled and grabbed at one've the chairs that floated by, but before he could get it out there was a “Hmmm...” from Rachel and a thoughtful expression before whatever the hell had been holding those pieces down suddenly dissolved or vanished or whatever. Regardless, they were free and joining in the floating around the damned room.

Still no sigh of the bear, or panda or dog or whatever that stuffed thing was. So apparently now it was time for furniture acrobatics and despite himself mimic was grinning outright. None of them getting close to Hope, he noted, though he figured the redhead wouldn't let her new sister get brained by a passing armchair accidentally.

"You're gonna have to come back and do this for her first birthday party," Mimic told her, shoot a half-grin Rachel's way as he continued scanning the floor, and hell the air too, for stray stuffed animals. If they didn't find it, he hoped to hell somebody around here had a decent damned substitute. If Hope wanted a bear, he'd damned well find her another one if he had to.

“Bear!!” Hope suddenly yelled, pointing over toward Rachel, or the chair she'd been in that was just behind her. Sure enough, the bear in question came falling right outta there.

“When did you go stuffing it there, huh?” she asked her little sister, cocking one eyebrow in query, though there was no help for even trying to pretend to a serious expression when Hope was grinning at that. “Never mind, she was good and safe all along,” then she floated it and Hope over to the corner. Where Hope just about hugged the stuffing outta the damned thing as she tackled it with all the might of her little four year old arms.

Jesus, he could watch that all day.

"Not sure I'll ever stop having to remind myself she's real," he mused out loud, before he could think better of it, shaking his head in bemusement. "That's a pretty good trick," Calvin added, eyes lifting up to the still spinning furniture, then turning back toward the redhead with an amused expression. "Hope starts doing that with her bedroom furniture in a few years," It'd have to be a few years, right? Not tomorrow or any time that soon? Fuck, he hoped to god not that soon, he was still trying to fucking process this parent thing, "I'll know where she got it from."

Speaking of the daughter he still couldn't believe he had half-the time, here she came, grinning and hugging that bear tight enough to squish the stuffings out of it. She stopped and looked between him and Rachel again and, shit, he knew that look. Knew just where she got it and couldn't have denied it if he'd wanted to. One've his and there wasn't any doubt about it.

Fuck. She was up to something.

Apparently having decided whatever it was she was trying to decide with that considering look, Hope turned around, holding her bear up in one hand and made a jump for the chair spinning not far over her head, obviously trying to stuff the damned bear back in the thing. The hell?

Then she grinned over at them both again, cutest damned mischievous expression on her face he'd ever seen and asked (or maybe demanded, it was hard to tell for sure), "Do it again!"
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"Do you think you oughta-" came Calvin’s voice, from somewhere on the other side of the room, through the forest of floating furniture, but since pretty much nothing enjoyable in the entire history of the multiverse had ever proceeded from that start to a sentence, Rachel happily tuned it out. Instead, the telepath continued her own lines of musings about the last few remaining pieces of gravity-bound furniture (the ones with the bolts), giving the problem one last thoughtful ‘Hmmm’, before choosing option ‘decompose the bolts and just have all of it up there’.

That in itself didn’t seem to have been enough to reveal the mystery secret Bear stashing hideout that Hope had apparently found and then promptly forgotten about, but this setback dismayed Rachel not at all, and barely gave her pause for more than half a second. You couldn’t spend a significant percentage of your own childhood in the company of Franklin and Valeria Richards without coming to the conclusion that there was no problem that couldn’t be solved with a little lateral thinking, and a lot of ridiculous power usage. In this case, setting all the floating furniture to revolving on gentle arcs around their own axes, all carefully arranged to stay well out of accidental Hope-smacking distance.

Even Scrapper would have been proud of this one, she thought.

"You're gonna have to come back and do this for her first birthday party," Mimic told her, and as Rachel grinned back at him, her little sister abruptly let out the definitive yell they’d been looking for.

Though she was kind of pointing right back at Rachel, which confused the older redhead for a moment (Fair God Phoenix Big Sisters were one thing, but she wasn’t sure she was really cut out for the furry squeezable animal role) till she followed Hope’s outstretched finger and caught site of Bear itself (or rather, herself), dropping out of the cushions from the chair she’d been sitting on.

Easy enough to catch the stuffed animal just before she hit the ground, though as she began to return it to its rightful place, the question had to be asked about when, exactly, Bear had been stuffed back there. Or asked rhetorically anyway, because a moment later Rachel had it dismissed with a never mind, getting on with the business of restoring Bear and Girl to some clearly overdue Thirty Minute Reunion Tackle hugs. In the middle of the air, in the midst of all the floating furniture.

Because what were cosmic avatar of life powers good for, really, if you couldn’t do this?

Definitely doubly worth it, too, both for the picture Hope made, and the look her father was wearing as he watched said picture. "Not sure I'll ever stop having to remind myself she's real," he mused out loud, with a little shake of his head and a soft expression on his face which it was probably either a really good thing, or a really sad thing that Mom wasn’t getting to see.

Deliberately deciding not to think about that too much though, Rachel just grinned, quirking one eyebrow as she pointed out, “This isn’t really the best tableau for convincing yourself you’re not halluncinating, it’s true.” Floating little girl, spinning chairs and tables... yeah, he was probably right to wonder just at this point, though she’d gotten his real meaning well enough.

"That's a pretty good trick," Calvin added, eyes lifting up to the still spinning furniture, then turning back toward the redhead with an amused expression. "Hope starts doing that with her bedroom furniture in a few years," and he looked a little like he was in the process of momentarily freaking himself out over that, but he rallied quickly enough on his own, before Rachel had decided whether reassuring him on that front was the nobler course or not, "I'll know where she got it from."

“Pretty much everything is worth trying, as long as you know you can put it back just like it was before,” Rachel intoned in a voice of something like sage wisdom. That was Dr Richards had always said anyway, and Scrapper and Val’s Mom too, and it allowed for so many more exciting adventures than ‘do what I say just as I say it’ that she’d taken to pretending it was her Daddy’s too. At least for the things he wouldn’t really mind about anyhow.

Sending Hope back over to her own father seemed like a good idea though, except that by the time her little sis had gotten over there, she already had a distinct look of plotting something going on.

And... whoa! Lay-up attempt of bear on chair in air (oops, had she accidentally started them down a road that led into Dr Zeus territory?), and while Rachel put a freeze on the rotation of that particular chair so that the stuffed animal didn’t take another nose dive to the floor, Hope turned back to the two of them, grinning from one to another like she knew she was on to a winner.

"Do it again!" she told them, all red hair, shiny teeth, and adorable insistence.

Adorable insistence who was not about to get her way with a big sister who could see, all too well, where this would be going given half the chance, and Rachel grinned widely, but shook her head all the same, taking a few steps over to where she could retrieve the stuffed animal from the one chair and stopping the slow rotation of all the other furniture while she was at it. “Uh uh,” she told Hope, as she gently lowered the various pieces back into something approximating their original positions, then turned a smiling glance on Bear herself, lifting an eyebrow as in communing with the silent stuffed toy. “Furniture gymnastics is a sometimes fun.”

She’d already been half-expecting it, so Rachel barely batted an eyelid as the little girl’s face did a rapid version of a crumple, bottom lip starting to jut out in the kind of pout that was far too cute to be resisted by most adults (especially fathers). Big sisters, though, on the other hand, were free to meet this with another sympathetic but somewhat amused smile. “Not going to work on me, Little Sis,” Rachel told Hope, not without sympathy, but most definitely keeping the furniture resolutely sticking where it was on the floor, “Sorry. I was once an adorable pouting ginger girl child myself, that makes me immune to such tricks.”

On the other hand though, might be time for another quick (and yes, kind of fake) consult with Bear, who was currently still in her hand, quizzical looks back and forth (well mostly forth, but still) and all. “Tell you what though,” Rachel said, as an upshot to this, looking back at Hope and Mimic, “You know what I think you and Bear both are in need of?” Only waiting long enough to make this pause suitably dramatic, Rachel added with a knowing sort of a nod, “New pajamas.”

Which solved pretty much everything ever. Clearly.
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Yeah, no kidding this wasn't the best place to convince himself he wasn't hallucinating. Not standing in the middle of the room with his brand new four year old daughter and all the furniture floating around in the damned air like he'd falling into a scene from a Disney movie.

At least if Hope started doing shit like this in a few years (and holy fuck, wasn't that another scary damned thought) he'd know where it came from.

Not that that idea seemed to bother Rachel Summers at all.

“Pretty much everything is worth trying, as long as you know you can put it back just like it was before,” Rachel intoned in a voice of something like sage wisdom that had the winged man letting out another snorting laugh. Somehow, he didn't think she got that bit of advice from Papa Cyclops. Jean, maybe, but he didn't think that was the case, either.

Made him wonder just who'd passed that attitude along - he might've said Drake, but he couldn't imagine Iceman bothering to put shit back - but before he could ask, Hope was floating his way, giving them a damned look that didn't mean anything at all but trouble, and making a jump for the nearest piece of furniture to try to stuff the bear they'd just found back into it.

Rachel at least stopped the thing from spinning around like a top, so Hope didn't smack into it and it didn't smack her. Not that she noticed, with that grin and demands to do it again.

Shit. Yeah, they'd created a monster there maybe. Hell, he'd have probably gone along with it, too, and spent the rest've the damned night playing hide the bear and spin the furniture, just to keep her smiling. Rachel wasn't falling for it, though, and thank fuck one of them seemed to know what the hell they were doing.

Despite grinning just like Calvin knew he was doing himself, she walked over, stopping the furniture in it's rotations as she reached up to retrieve the bear. “Uh uh,” she told Hope, as she gently lowered the various pieces back into something approximating their original positions, then turned a smiling glance on Bear herself, lifting an eyebrow as in communing with the silent stuffed toy. “Furniture gymnastics is a sometimes fun.”

He could see the pout coming and Mimic felt a half-second of panic, then clamped down on that firmly. Oh, hell no, he wasn't gonna start panicking when Hope pouted. He'd be doomed for damned sure if she ever figured it out and he'd feel like even more of an idiot.

But, shit, how could he let her just stand there and pout like that?

Calvin knew he was kinda getting one've those deer in the headlights looks, but no help for it. All he could do was try to make it as non-obvious as he could manage until he could convince himself minor disappointment wouldn't do Hope any permanent damage.

Shit, he obviously had a long damned way to go on this 'telling her no is okay' thing.

“Not going to work on me, Little Sis,” Rachel told Hope, managing to look amused and sympathetic all at once, “Sorry. I was once an adorable pouting ginger girl child myself, that makes me immune to such tricks.”

"Yeah, you think you could pass some've that immunity over this way, since I sure as hell was never any've those things," Calvin half-muttered with a wry smile as the older, non-pouting of the two redheads looked over at the bear she was still holding for some kinda opinion, apparently.

“Tell you what though,” Rachel said, as an upshot to this, looking back at Hope and Mimic, “You know what I think you and Bear both are in need of?” His first thought, as she looked over his way, was 'a parent with a damned clue' but he was guessing that probably wasn't it, “New pajamas.”

Yeah, definitely not it, but that brought up a whole new damned problem.

With the pout turning into something closer to a considering frown, Hope seemed to be thinking it over as she turned to him and held up her arms. That was something he sure as hell couldn't resist and wasn't inclined to, so Calvin reached down to pick her up, smiling like a damned sap as she wrapped those little arms around his neck again and hugged him quick.

Then his own expression moved toward a frown, too, as he looked back to Rachel, shaking his head. "Dammit, I knew I was missing something." Probably more than one something, but his brain still wasn't firing on all damned cylinders yet. He'd get there. "I don't even have a change of clothes for her yet."

Much less pajamas, which Hope still seemed to be thinking over as she turned that considering look back on Rachel. "Pajamas?" she asked hopefully, then held her arms out, opening and closing her little hands in what he took as the universal sign for 'gimme'. "Bear?" she added with a smile, then tacked on a very careful, "Pleeeeasse?" to that that was cute enough to make his fucking brain short out again.

Jesus, he wasn't sure he was gonna survive the night at this rate.
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There was (extra-callafraja-predictablo-listically) a pout that arrived only a few moments after the nixing of any more rounds of the Bear On the Spinning Furniture game. It was a pretty good pout too, as pouts went: cute with a moderate helping of lip-quivering disappointment, and just the slightest hint that there might be a way to avoid proceeding to full blown metastatic pout-mageddon if the wrongs of Hope’s world were swiftly righted. In fact, as a former aficionado of the expression, Rachel had to be impressed with her little sister’s technique.

On the other hand, as said former aficionado, the telepath was holding firm to the resolution of putting the furniture back on the ground. She was immune to the cuteness of adorably pouting red-headed girl children - after all, she’d been one herself - and she told the little girl as much..

"Yeah, you think you could pass some've that immunity over this way, since I sure as hell was never any've those things," Calvin half-muttered with a wry smile

“You’ll figure it out,” Rachel assured him, looking up from the midst of a deep and involved (though also silent and imaginary) consultation with Hope’s recently re-rescued ‘Bear’. However much he might be having to work at not caving right now, he’d get there eventually. That or Hope would grow out of it - it was a lot harder to pull off cute and adorable to get your way once you got past the age of seven or eight, after all, and in the meantime they could probably depend on Calvin having someone around capable of disentangling him from the clutches of tiny ginger cuteness.

And in the meantime meantime, there was an obvious pout-curing alternative that presented itself for consideration while Rachel conferred with the simply (if possibly inaccurately) named ‘Bear’. That would be pajamas. New pajamas, in fact, because clearly both Hope and Bear stood in need of some of those.

It seemed to do the trick, at least with Hope. Within a second, the pout was gone, replaced by a thoughtful look, as though this suggestion needed some careful consideration. Rachel personally wasn’t sure what there might be to have to think about when there was an offer of new clothes on the table, but she did wholly approve of her little sister’s choice of thinking posture. There was nothing like a hug from Dad to help make all the tricky stuff seem a whole lot clearer, and the smile the little hug put on Calvin’s face was an added bonus.

Right up until he started frowning again, anyhow. "Dammit, I knew I was missing something," he told Rachel, shaking his head and causing the redhead to lift her eyebrows in very mild confusion. Missing? Him? "I don't even have a change of clothes for her yet."

Oh... right, so she definitely should have been clearer about her intention for the newcomer to the idea of non-fiery-destructive-death-bird-Phoenix. Yeah. Alright.

Waving this worry away with a swipe of one supremely unconcerned hand, Rachel sent him back a grin. “This is not a problem at all,” she declared, utterly nonchalant, “In fact, it’s an un-problem. Magically-appearing wardrobe choices are a Marvel Girl special.” Mom had even started that, back in the day. Uncle War had never gotten tired of telling her that story, which was good because Rachel had never goten tired of hearing it. Though admittedly that hadn’t been of the magically-appearing via molecular rearrangement variety, but... well, still, that was just a minor detail, and Hope seemed to have come through and made up her mind.

"Pajamas?" she asked hopefully, then held her arms out, opening and closing her little hands in what he took as the universal sign for 'gimme'. "Bear?" she added with a smile, then tacked on a very careful, "Pleeeeasse?"

Holy shit - even the badge of the former cute redheaded orphan couldn’t give you immunity to that kind of look and polite wheedling combo. “Of course!” Rachel was quick to assure her sister, smiling broadly herself and actually getting halfway to taking the first step to just handing Bear back before she caught herself long enough to remember what she’d been planning. “But first...” she said then, pausing for just a moment and holding Bear aloft where Hope could see her wave one hand, Magician’s Assistant style, and work a little clothing wizardry, a la Phoenix.

In the space of a few heartbeats it was done, and Rachel grinned even wider, presenting her sister with her newly-clothed bear. “Voila, one bear in pajamas, the height of Forest Moon fashion.” Because there was nothing in any of the multiverse that was better than an Ewok. Except perhaps a talking space raccoon, but that was a tale for another day. “Now you close your eyes,” Rachel instructed Hope, winking at Calvin when the little girl lasted no more than a second before peeking again, “and think really hard about what you’d like yours to look like, and...”

There it was, a mental picture of Hope herself dressed in greens and browns and hoods to match her very stylish stuffed friend. Taking the image out of her sister’s mind and shifting her current clothing around to match was as easy as... well, just about anything, really. “Ta-Da!” Rachel declared, adding just a little unnecessary flourish of sparkles as she finished, “Hope in pajamas!”

This Fairy God-Phoenix Sister thing? Totally a synch.


***** Fade into fading, to pick up again when Bobby arrives *****
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Bobby turned the hat over and then over again in his hands as he made his way down the hallway to the rooms Rankin had taken on the helicarrier, trying to decide if a four year old girl would want it. It seemed wrong to go meet his "niece" without bringing her a gift, and while he'd also brought his remaining M&Ms (all kids liked chocolate, right?), he didn't exactly have many choices available. Maybe...

No, the bamf doll was Kit's, he reminded himself, and it wasn't as if he'd managed to hang onto any of his action figures through all the moves. Still, the hat didn't seem like much. Maybe he should hold off until he could drum up something better? Except...

He sighed a little. He couldn't. Much as he'd been enjoying the party after the big announcement, the thought that Jean had a daughter, just "upstairs", kept popping into his head. A daughter who'd need her mom's side of the family, so to speak, and not just her dad's (which was equally questionable, relationship-wise, but he supposed family was a pretty fluid thing these days). He'd promised the other Jean, and...well, even if he hadn't, it was still true. Hope would need him.

And her dad might just need someone about now, too.

With that thought sobering him a little (for some reason, thinking of Hope kept automatically bringing a smile to his face), he paused outside Rankin's door, debating whether or not to knock. On the one hand, she might be asleep, and knocking could wake her up. On the other, Rankin was entirely capable of blasting him through the next few walls if he just barged in.

Of course, his Canadian former teammate of the not-snikting-variety was also entirely capable of ignoring the knock if he didn't want to answer, which was a point in favor of barging in...

All of which was just procrasting, he realized, and took a deep breath, then knocked on the door. "Hey Calvin, it's Drake," he said, hopefully loud enough to be heard without waking anyone who might be sleeping. "Okay if I come in?"

If it wasn't...well, he was coming in anyway. But he might as well ask first.
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His kid was an Ewok. Cutest damned thing he'd ever seen and Calvin couldn't help grinning like an idiot as Hope wandered around the room some more, talking to her bear (or whatever the hell that thing actually was) about as much as she was then.

She'd snuck up on him at one point, grabbing a handful of wing and giggling like crazy. There were a few scattered feathers on the floor to show for it but, hell, they'd grow back and he was pretty sure realizing it'd hurt him when she pulled them out had probably done more to stop her doing it again than all the telling her not to probably ever would've. Didn't stop her from yanking on his beard, but at least she hadn't left with a handful of that she'd managed to detached. Yet.

There were books scattered on the floor, where she'd pulled them down and sat there showing Bear the pictures and pretending to read to her. A couple of knick knacks she'd pulled of the shelf to look at and hadn't bothered to put back. Few other odds and ends, like the decorative pillows from one've the chairs, lying around but nothing he was worried about. He'd pick them up later.

Now, he was just sitting, watching her run around, go over to show Rachel something now and then, or show it to that bear she hadn't let go of since her sister found it. Still trying to process that that was his kid. His and Jean's and she wasn't some kinda damned illusion, since he wasn't having a lotta luck keeping his dumbass brain convinced of that.

And he was still absorbing all that sudden commotion from down at the strip club. A goddamned tidal wave of it - elation, stunned surprise, people suddenly yelling in his head (well, Terry, but she'd definitely got through and let him know what it was) - that he couldn't have missed no matter how he'd have tried to block it out. Kinda glad he hadn't.

The Camps were gone. Fuck yeah, that called for some celebrating. Maybe they hadn't got rid of them soon enough for anybody, and maybe they'd lost too damned many people on the way, but now it was done and that deserved the recognition of something damned well done.

Still, he couldn't help checking in on Forge, finding pretty much what he'd expect, the morose Fucker. He was all right, though, or would be. Already knew how Terry felt about it, but touched a few've the others - Kurt, Betsy, few've the kids, etc. Found a whole lotta hugging and shit, but that wasn't no surprise. Had to force himself not to check on Jean, though. Had to tell himself not to go there, wouldn't do either of them any good.

Clamped down on his telepathy and cut it off from all that as much as it was humanly possible, then, just to make sure he didn't do it any damned way. Sorry damned thing, not to be able to trust your on head not to do shit all on it's own. Or maybe just his own subconscious.

Concentrated on the little red-haired girl grinning and peering around the side of Rachel's chair, like she thought she was gonna sneak up on her. Smiled at that, too, shooting an amused look over at the older redhead, and tried to put those memories of her mother outta his head again.

"Hey Calvin, it's Drake," came a familiar voice through the closed door, along with a knock. "Okay if I come in?" Sure as hell, there was Iceman, just like Rogue'd said.

Eyes going wide, Hope's head swiveled toward the door, then she scampered over to the other side've her sister's chair, trying to peer over the arm and across Rachel, peeping at the door.

"S'kay, Hope. just the Icedork coming by to say hello. He's harmless," he told her with a smile. All he could see was the top of her head and her big blue eyes, but she turned to give him a somewhat skeptical look that he knew what he was talking about.

"Yeah, c'mon in, Drake," Calvin turned to call out toward the door. "We're just hanging out."

"Icedork?" Hope repeated, like she was trying the word out and looking over to Rachel questioningly. Well, shit, it was better than Icefucker, he guessed.
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Funny how a single day could make all the difference in the world, wasn’t it?

Only if it was the right sort of day, of course. And even a day like this one had turned into, one where miracles happened and baby sisters were alive - and safe now too - didn’t really change everything, or make the worst things go away. But they still made all the differences that they could, and enough to count. Her little sister was wandering around, conversing with her stuffed, Ewok-pajamed bear, causing the kind of mischief that would be easy to put back (or in the case of her father’s feathers, would at least heal pretty quickly).

No more camps in this world, and that had been a wave of something special, when the team Dad had been with had dropped that on the party downstairs. Looked like Little Bro was all up with her advice and getting on with enjoying himself, and Kitty...

...well, Rache had made a point of closing off that particular part of the back of her brain a little while back, but there was no doubt at all that her best friend was enjoying herself, or that Pete was, and Mom and Dad...

...well, they’d be okay. They’d figure it out, somehow or other, the three of them together.

For now though, there was Hope, wandering about the room, and currently in the midst of one of her passes around Rachel’s chair. This time, she seemed to be working on a game of peek-a-boo with her dad, while the older redhead did her best not to turn herself around and let out the part where she was following the action. A grin, to meet Mimic’s as he looked her way a moment, and... yeah. This part, it wasn’t so bad. Not at all, not even a little.

And then there was the feeling of another mind, coming down the hallway with them - or at least Calvin and Hope - in his thoughts, and a knock at the door (amidst a mental tussle about breaking it down).

"Hey Calvin, it's Drake," said the voice that went along with those thought patterns, not too loud or too soft, ”Okay if I come in?"

Little spike of alarm from Hope at the unfamiliar voice, and Rachel didn’t miss the part where her little sister made sure to put Rachel and her chair between herself and the door, but it didn’t feel like anything more than a pretty ordinary wariness, so that’d be okay too, just like Calvin was saying, from where he was sitting. "S'kay, Hope. just the Icedork coming by to say hello. He's harmless," he told her with a smile, clearly able to see the little girl peeking out from around the other edge of the thing, before turning toward the door and inviting their visitor to come in.

"Icedork?" Hope repeated, as Rachel glanced over her chair to look down at her sister with an encouraging smile.

“It’s his official title,” Rachel assured her with a very nearly totally straight face, before the door opened. Hope looked like she was retreating back behind the chair for her moment, but she’d figure through that soon enough, because like Calvin had said, it was only-

“Uncle Bobby!” Rachel exclaimed with a broad grin, waving at him as he came through the door.

Nothing to be worried about there, as her little sister would totally figure out for herself soon enough.
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Procrastinating, however attractive under the circumstances, wasn't going to pay off. Not with Rankin being telepathic, even if Bobby wasn't sure just how much he used his telepathy. Still, sooner or later he was going to realize someone was hanging around outside his door, and either tell him to get lost or to come in. He might as well beat him to it.

He could hear some murmuring inside the room, too faint to make out, and shifted his weight apprehensively from one foot to the other, turning the bag containing the hat and M&Ms over and over in his hands. Should he have maybe waited until morning? Somehow, he couldn't picture Rankin being a Nazi about bedtimes, but maybe she was already asleep? He could come back later...

"Yeah, c'mon in, Drake," Calvin called back. "We're just hanging out."

Bobby opened the door, smiling crookedly, and stepped inside. "Hey. I just thought I'd stop by and-" his eyes shifted from Calvin over to the room's other occupant, his sentence breaking off abruptly as she broke in with, “Uncle Bobby!”.

Shit. That...was not a four year old. Rogue had said four, right? This girl - well, there was definitely a resemblance to Jean, but she looked like she was probably older than Kit, and...nevermind. Still Jean's daughter, just older than he'd expected. A lot older. Damn, he was gonna strangle Rogue, because he was sure she'd said four, and she could've warned him if there was some kind of artificial aging thing involved, but nooooo...

And...none of that was helping at all. He could sort out who to strangle later. In the meantime, he had a niece to meet. Once who, surprisingly, was already calling him Uncle.

"Hey Hope," he said, smiling over at her, even as his fingers toyed nervously with the plastic bag in his hand. "It's good to meet you. I'm guessing your dad told you I was gonna stop by?"

Only possible explanation he could think of for the "Uncle Bobby" part, although he was surprised and more than a little touched that Rankin had apparently given that as his name. Maybe it wouldn't be too hard to keep his promise to the green haired Jean after all, even if this wasn't exactly the daughter she'd been expecting.
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Ah, Jesus. Now it was Icedork.

Better than Icefucker, Calvin guessed, barely resisting the urge to facepalm like hell. He was either gonna have to learn to watch what he said or he was gonna have to stop talking all together.

Though, come to think of it, the whole Fucker mess was Forge's fault, so maybe he'd just blame him and let it go at that. And hell, it was just Drake, he should be used to the Icedork thing by now. He could've probably had her calling him a lot damned worse.

“It’s his official title,” Rachel assured her sister with a mostly straight fact and Calvin let out a soft snerk of amusement, half grinning over at her as he told Drake to bring his ass on in.

Didn't take him long, and there was Iceman, wearing that same damned crooked ass smile Calvin saw on him so often he had to wonder sometimes if it was some kinda congenital birth defect. He stepped inside the room with, "Hey. I just thought I'd stop by and-"

And apparently stare at Rachel like she'd just bashed him in the head with one've the chairs that'd been floating around her a little while ago when she interjected with, “Uncle Bobby!”.

Well, what the hell? Was he having some kinda stroke or something? Or hell, maybe he wasn't expecting Rachel. Fuck knew he'd started at her a while himself when she'd first showed up, but Drake looked pretty damned well gobsmacked.

Before Calvin could decide if maybe he needed to unclench on his telepathy and try to give Drake's brain a kick start, though, the other man seemed to snap back to reality enough to kinda smile over at Rachel. "Hey Hope," he said and fuck if he hadn't spoke too soon. The hell? He didn't - "It's good to meet you. I'm guessing your dad told you I was gonna stop by?"

Calvin's eyebrows shot up and he decided maybe he'd better check on Drake's brain sooner rather than later. And...Jesus, he did. He thought Rachel was Hope. The biggest, most adult damned four year old on the face of the earth apparently.

Only fucking Drake.

Looking back over at Rachel, Calvin tried to hold the damned laugh in, but that was a lost cause if there ever was one and it came out all the same as he grinned over at the redhead. Damned if he wasn't tempted to let him keep right on believing that for as long as they could get away with it, but he could already see the very tip top of the real Hope's ewok-hooded head starting to peek over the arm of Rachel's chair.

"No, but I did," Calvin told the nervous, gobsmacked looking fucker with a grin and shake of his head, letting out another snort of laughter he couldn't hold in. Not like he was bothering to try that hard, though. "Jesus, Drake, you confused shit," Calvin waved him on into the room, keeping an eye on the top of Hope's head as it inched up a little more into view, then waved that same hand toward Rachel, "that's not Hope, for fuck's sake. That's Rachel, but you're at least in the right gene pool. Wanna guess again?"

Alright, maybe Drake didn't know about her yet (though that'd be a damned surprise the way news traveled in this group) but Rachel sure as hell wasn't four. What the hell did he think they'd done, dunked her in miracle grow?

The real Hope popped up enough to just get her slightly wide, blue eyes over the arm of the chair, took a gander at things, then ducked down outta sight again in a flash of red hair and Ewok pajamas. Well, he couldn't say he blamed her for that one.
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A rush and a push of the door and that was totally Uncle Bobby, stepping inside. Same goofy step, and she’d know that lopsided smile thing anywhere, even if the mind directing it felt a little older, a little more tired than Rachel was used to, or even really remembered from her childhood. "Hey. I just thought I'd stop by and-" he was saying to Calvin, breaking off right around the time he looked further around the room, and came across...

...oh yeah, her. Totally not what he’d been expecting right?

Grin broadening, Rachel broke into a happy greeting as his eyes turned her way, addressing him with the only name she’d ever known to fit him. Plus the way he was double-taking? This joke was way too much to pass up on for anyone who’d once been a full-time apprentice of Uncle Bobby’s school of Messing With People.

Following his thoughts as they shot rapid fire right over the front of his mind made it all the more fun. Artificial aging? Jeez, it was starting to be no wonder at all that no one had caught on about Little Bro and the messed up number that Mom had done on his head till it had all been ripped out, if they all jumped right to Crazy St on the monopoly board of potential explanations for inexplicably adult children without passing go or collecting two hundred.

Still, after a brief mental tussle, and some resolving to strangle invulnerable people, Uncle Bobby was back on top of things. Mostly, anyway. "Hey Hope," he said, smiling over at her, even as his fingers toyed nervously with the plastic bag in his hand. "It's good to meet you. I'm guessing your dad told you I was gonna stop by?"

Rachel’s smile didn’t so much as twitch through any of that speech, a feat which owed quite a lot to that same fine part-time educational establishment she’d been thinking of just now. It had given her more than enough training in how not to burst out laughing under even the most extreme of provocation. And that was something that Mimic probably could have used some of, because no sooner had she felt the disbelief and confusion he was radiating disappear after dipping into Uncle Bobby’s brain, and turned her grin over toward him, the big winged man in the other chair burst out laughing.

And then there was a little more laughing, and even Rachel’s lips had started to twitch a little when she felt Hope behind her, slowly rising up to try to peek over the arm of her chair.

"No, but I did," Calvin told the nervous, gobsmacked looking fucker with a grin and shake of his head, letting out another snort of laughter he couldn't hold in. Feeling her sister decide to risk another inch of viewing room, Rachel bit her lip to hold in a giggle of her own (Uncle Bobby would never have approved of cracking up so soon). Dad... oh god, though, Mimic as her Dad? That was...

That was way too odd to keep her success streak on holding back the giggle, and one escaped from Rachel. Only a little one though, quickly bitten back up.

"Jesus, Drake, you confused shit," Hope’s dad (see, that made sense) continued, in the same kind of gruff amused tones he and Forge had been shooting back and forth since the initial shock of Hope had worn off back at the end of the Mission, waving one of his hands from gesturing Uncle Bobby into the room, over to Rachel herself. "that's not Hope, for fuck's sake. That's Rachel, but you're at least in the right gene pool. Wanna guess again?"

“Rachel Summers,” said Rachel, deciding to make it really easy on her Uncle. To make up for losing the battle against giggling, or something like that, and she lifted her hand - the one on the other side of the chair from where Hope was poking up a little further again - and gestured vaguely for illustrative purposes as she explained, “From four universes over, originally, but you’re still my Uncle Bobby - that’s just how it works.”

Friends, that didn’t transfer universes. Not immediately, anyway, and it wasn’t the same, even when both could end up being important. Like Kate, and Kitty. But family? Family was always family, no matter which world you were on. How it worked. Simple as that.

A moment later, her still waving hand was abruptly filled with something soft and furry, and Rachel blinked, before looking down to find herself having acquired one Ewok-themed stuffed animal, while her sister ducked back once more behind her chair. Smiling, and sending a little reassuring mental squeeze in Hope’s direction, Rachel transferred her gaze back to Uncle Bobby, lifting up the stuffed animal so he had a better view. “Ah! I see we have an Advance Scout, ready to suss you out,” she explained, with a conspiratorial wink. “Uncle Bobby, this is Bear. Bear, this is Uncle Bobby. He’s cool.” Rachel delivered that alongside a sage nod to Bear, in case this silent ‘inspector scout’ had any lingering doubts, then grinned widely again, glancing toward Calvin then once more to their visitor.

“How do you feel about Ewoks, Uncle Bobby?” she asked him.
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This was...no. He wasn't hallucinating. This was, apparently, Jean's daughter, and while he couldn't quite reconcile her apparent age with the fact Rogue had told him that she was four, there were possible explanations for that. It wasn't even the weirdest thing he'd ever seen, growing up with the X-Men, and there was no point freaking out over it. One way or another, this was apparently his niece.

Just...sort of bigger than he'd expected.

Still, he was pretty proud of the fact that his voice didn't really quaver as he said hello, guessing that her dad had told her he was coming. He figured that was pretty impressive, under the circumstances.

She was still smiling, and he was just coming to the conclusion that he hadn't screwed that up too badly when Rankin let out a snort of laughter. "No, but I did," he said, and with a shit ass grin and a shake of head started laughing again while Bobby turned to stare at him, wondering just what the hell was so funny unless his former teammate was poking around in his head and had gotten hold of the mental image of a four year old Hope or something. "Jesus, Drake, you confused shit," he continued, waving him inside, "that's not Hope, for fuck's sake. That's Rachel, but you're at least in the right gene pool. Wanna guess again?"

Rachel...Bobby turned back to the redhead as he came inside, trying to reconcile his image of Rachel Leighton with the girl standing before him, who'd taken to giggling as well. “Rachel Summers,” she added, and it was his turn to facepalm and laugh. Right, alternate reality daughter of Scott and Jean or something. That made more sense, even if he hadn't quite gotten straight exactly how newly married Scott and Jean had a twenty year old daughter. Apparently Rachel, unlike her not-father, was taking pity on his confusion, because she waved her hand vaguely and explained, “From four universes over, originally, but you’re still my Uncle Bobby - that’s just how it works.”

"Hey, works for me," he replied, returning her grin despite the fact his head was spinning a little. Apparently, he had a bonus niece from another universe. One who'd apparently learned all about pranks from some other him (because honestly, it couldn't have been from anyone else), and who, if he remembered what Kitty'd said about her, had a thing for drinking with dragons.

Yeeaah. Definitely an odd day. Before he could say anything else, though, he saw a small figure with red hair pop up over the arm of the chair before disappearing again, leaving a stuff animal behind in her not-quite-sister's hand.

Was that an Ewok? Where the hell had they gotten a stuffed Ewok?

Rachel raised it up for him to see, apparently amused. “Ah! I see we have an Advance Scout, ready to suss you out,” she explained, with a conspiratorial wink. “Uncle Bobby, this is Bear. Bear, this is Uncle Bobby. He’s cool.”

"The coolest," Bobby joked, ignoring any comment Rankin might decide to throw in at that, which he figured was probably inevitable. It didn't matter. Apparently, Hope was present, just hiding. It was just a matter of luring her out.

Well, he could work with that.

“How do you feel about Ewoks, Uncle Bobby?” she asked him.

"Oh, definitely a fan of Ewoks. Best characters in Return of the Jedi," he assured her with a grin, then tilted his head, pretending to consider something carefully for the benefit of his unseen audience. "Y'know...I'm pretty sure I remember Ewoks being huge fans of M&Ms," he invented on the spot, and reached into the bag and rummaged a little for one of the ones he'd brought along. Having found one, he pulled it the blue covered candy and held it out to the stuffed animal. "How 'bout it, Bear? Do you like chocolate?"

It was worth a shot. After all, it'd always worked for Aunt Gladys, and she'd been a whole lot scarier than he was.
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Rachel might be trying not to laugh her ass off, but Calvin wasn't bothering. Hell, he wasn't sure he could've managed if he'd tried.

Drake staring at him like he'd grown another head didn't help, either, and Jesus. Leave it to Iceman to somehow decide Hope was somehow a grown damned woman. If Rogue'd told him that, he'd have to remember to thank her for the laugh later. Damned if he couldn't use it.

And hell, at least Drake had managed to stay in the right gene pool if nothing else. Maybe if he tried again, he'd manage to get it right. Calvin wasn't putting too much money on that, but hell. You never knew, right?

The way he was staring at Rachel, now, did make the odds look good. The damned grapevine around here must've really gone to shit if he hadn't heard about her by now.

“Rachel Summers,” the redhead told him, apparently giving up on trying to keep a straight face through all this after that little giggle a few seconds ago and cut the Icedork some slack. He looked like he could use it, “From four universes over, originally, but you’re still my Uncle Bobby - that’s just how it works.”

Apparently it finally got through and Drake was facepalming as Rachel waved a hand around in example and Hope poked her head up a little farther over the arm of the chair. Couldn't help but grin at that like the damned sap he was as curiosity started getting the better of her.

"Hey, works for me," Drake agreed, because what the fuck else could he say after that kinda entrance. Then, so fast he'd have almost been convinced she'd done it with some kinda powers after all, instead of popping up like one've those targets in those old Smack The Gopher games and shoving it into her sister's hand before vanishing outta sight again, Hope's bear was suddenly stuffed into her sister's hand.

Even Rachel was blinking at the speed that happened and Calvin let out an amused snort, shaking his head, but didn't say anything to let Hope know he'd noticed just yet.

Then the older of the two redheads, and the one not dressed like an Ewok herself, smiled and held up Bear for Drake to see. “Ah! I see we have an Advance Scout, ready to suss you out,” she explained, with a conspiratorial wink. “Uncle Bobby, this is Bear. Bear, this is Uncle Bobby. He’s cool.” She nodded to the damned bear and Calvin let out another half-choked laugh. Jesus, that might be the worst damned pun in history.

"If cool means frozen in the brain, maybe," the winged man threw out with a grin as Drake - lameass that he was - answered back with, "The coolest," and yeah, he took it back. That was even worse.

Rachel looked his way with a wide grin, one that Calvin sent right back at her as she turned back to Drake and asked, “How do you feel about Ewoks, Uncle Bobby?”

"Oh, definitely a fan of Ewoks. Best characters in Return of the Jedi," Drake replied, playing along as he tilted his head and Hope inched up over the arm of the chair again. Jesus if that wasn't the cutest damned thing in the world. "Y'know...I'm pretty sure I remember Ewoks being huge fans of M&Ms," the other man pulled apparently right outta his ass, and did likewise with an M&M from the bag he had in his hand. There was something he hadn't seen in damned forever. "How 'bout it, Bear? Do you like chocolate?"

Letting out another low chuckle, since damned if didn't look like he might feed it to the damned thing. "Now how the hell would an Ewok even know what that is?" Mimic asked Drake with a grin, because he wasn't gonna cut him any slack just yet. It was a grin that softened more than a little, though, as Hope peeped over the arm of the chair, blue eyes squinched up a little suspiciously as she peered from Bear to Drake to the M&M and then over to him like she didn't know what the fuck to make of that. "Though, hell, for all I know they've started shooting M&Ms into space for the damned Shi'ar now."

He sent Hope the best reassuring look and smile he could manage. Probably not the first time somebody'd tried to lure her out with some kinda treat, so not surprising she was a little suspicious. His daughter (yeah, eventually he'd get used to saying that in his head, but today wasn't that day) looked maybe a little mollified, but then sent a similar 'what the shit is this?' look over to her sister.

Tough audience. Drake was probably gonna have to do better than one M&M here.
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Wait, what was choky-laugh worthy over calling Uncle Bobby ‘cool’? Rachel shot a quizzical glance over Mimic’s way at the sound, with clarity (and a certain urge to slap herself in the forehead) dawning around the time he threw out, "If cool means frozen in the brain, maybe."

Right. Puns! Bad ones, which were the best, or at least the only, kind of puns to be had, as Uncle Bobby proved at around the same time by declaring himself to be "The coolest."

Wow, it had been way too long, obviously, because it wasn’t as if she hadn’t heard that particular one about 1000 times as a kid. Sigh, oops, and never mind, because there were things to be done, bears (and sisters) to be reassured on the status of the goofy new interlopers into Calvin’s quarters. Inquiring about whether Uncle Bobby happened to be favorably inclined toward Ewoks should be a good enough place to start, right?

He was certainly good with that, leaping right on the assurance train. "Oh, definitely a fan of Ewoks. Best characters in Return of the Jedi," he assured her with a grin, then tilted his head, while Rachel nodded sagely, for this very fundamental statement of truth. "Y'know...I'm pretty sure I remember Ewoks being huge fans of M&Ms," he added on, then started rummaging around in that bag that he’d been nervously twirling just a few moments ago, coming up with a single blue M&M that he held out toward the stuffed animal Rachel was holding like a magical blue pill.Because what were pseudo-Uncles who you weren’t actually related to at all for, if not for bribing you with sugary deliciousness that fathers didn’t really approve of?

"How 'bout it, Bear? Do you like chocolate?"

From the other chair, Calvin was laughing again, and this time Rachel joined in, just a little, especially with the little hum of stubborn suspicion she was getting from the bundle of thoughts carefully arranged mostly - but not quite completely - behind her chair.

"Now how the hell would an Ewok even know what that is?" Mimic asked Drake with a grin.

Wow, so Calvin? Totally needed to brush up on his Original Trilogy watching and rewatching quota. This much was obvious to Rachel (who admittedly could cut him some slack, for having spent five years in a Camp and not having had nearly enough overgrown child uncle people to make him do it) as she listened to that particular exchange. “Same way it worked in the movie,” Rachel informed Hope’s dad. No, a light mind brush kind of confirmed that it didn’t seem like Hope did know what chocolate was, really, much less M&Ms. But just like with Wicket and Leia over lunch on Endor, getting to know the strange big people food? That was all part of the fun.

"Though, hell, for all I know they've started shooting M&Ms into space for the damned Shi'ar now."

“That might improve their general demeanour, at least,” Rachel pointed out, before coming to a decision (based on a certain reinterpretation of the Leia-Wicket lunch exchange) and leaning in quickly to snab the blue M&M off Uncle Bobby’s palm. “Here, see?” she asked, as she turning her head so that Hope had a good view of her popping it into her mouth, complete with chewing and savoring of delicious candy-coated chocolate goodness. “Mmm. Definitely good for any and all bears and Ewoks that might be about,” Rachel continued, with an encouraging nod down back behind the chair to her sister, who returned the gaze with an expression that was still a little wary, but possibly shading to intrigued.

Might take a little more though, and so with a quick little wave of her fingers, Rachel telekinetically threaded a few more M&Ms out of the bag Uncle Bobby was holding and floated them over to her own palm, exchanging Bear into the relative safety of the other one as she did. When they were safe in hand, she proceeded to lower that over the side of the chair, down for Hope’s inspection, just enough to the side that her sister would have to come out into full visibility to take her pick.

“All good and tasty here, Little Sis,” Rachel told her, and was rewarded by a little more Hope-Ewok peeking out from the chair, clearly calculating her odds of risk and gain, “I promise.” And that did seem to do the trick, because slowly, her sister edged out, all the way over to her hand, and picked up a single M&M - one of the green ones, before rather dubiously and deliberately transferring it to her own mouth.

Not too bad, really, for a first attempt.
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He was cool.

As puns went, it was definitely one of the oldest, but that didn't make it any less true. Bobby smiled smugly, tossing in the almost mandatory observation that he wasn't just cool, he was the coolest, just as Calvin grinned and tossed in his two cents worth, "If cool means frozen in the brain, maybe,"

Bobby shot him a look, then made the only mature response he could, given the circumstances. He stuck his tongue out at him.

Like puns, sometimes the best replies were the classics.

That done, he turned back to Rachel, carefully not looking at the tiny head peeking over the arm of the chair. And confirmed that yes, he was very definitely a fan of Ewoks. A quick rummage through his bag produced what he hoped would serve as Ewok (and Ewok-costumed niece) bait - one of his M&Ms. With any luck...

Both Rankin and Rachel laughed at that, though Hope seemed a little more skeptical of the offering. "Now how the hell would an Ewok even know what that is?"

Oh great, now everyone was a critic. "Oh please," Bobby replied, rolling his eyes, but before he could really get going with an awesome explanation (which was maybe a good thing, because he was still working on that), Rachel chimed in with “Same way it worked in the movie,”

"Exactly," he agreed, grinning over at his older niece and nodding sagely. After all, they didn't need a rationalization at this point, just a lure. Which wasn't working quite as well as he'd hoped, considering the lure-ee seemed a little suspicious.

Hmm. He'd have to work on that.

Rankin, meanwhile, was trying to make up for his earlier comments by observing that Mars was probably marketing to the Shi'ar, which Rachel seemed to feel might improve Earth/Shi'ar relations or something. Which was great, except for one thing. "Hey, as long as they're sending them to the Moons of Endor, it's all good," he pointed out, shooting a smile over at the munchkin to include her in the joke, even though there was no chance she'd understand it. Unfortunately, whether they were or not, Hope didn't appear to be a fan. Or maybe hadn't gotten her sample pack from Mars' marketing department yet.

Rachel seemed to have come to the same conclusion, and took matters into her own hands (literally) by snitching the blue M&M out of his hand and popping it into her mouth. “Here, see?” she asked,“Mmm. Definitely good for any and all bears and Ewoks that might be about,”

Apparently figuring that further demonstration was in order, a few M&Ms floated their way from his bag over to the redhead's hand, which she held out so that if Hope wanted one, she'd have to emerge from behind the chair. “All good and tasty here, Little Sis,” Rachel told her, and was rewarded by a little more Hope-Ewok peeking out from the chair, clearly calculating her odds of risk and gain, “I promise.”

Bobby nodded, almost holding his breath as Hope, apparently reassured or at least sufficiently intrigued, crept out from behind the chair and helped herself to one of the candies. Oh god, she was adorable. Beyond adorable, and he could definitely see Jean in the skeptical look she gave the candy before popping it into her mouth.

"What do you think, Hope?" he asked as he crouched down, getting closer to eye level as he smiled over at her hopefully, ignoring the dampness at the corners of his eyes. "Should we send them off to the Ewok's planet? Or just keep them here for us? Because y'know, I like M&Ms a lot, too."

Where he'd get more of them once the last few ran out, he didn't know. Maybe he could get Jean to keep him stocked, or get Kit to have Yana send regular care packages. All he knew was if Hope liked them, he'd figure something out, even if he had to appeal to the other dimensional version of Scott. That was what uncles were for.
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