There was something impressive about having a Master's Degree that carried some clout and earned Rebecca some respect. Oxford in particular had a reputation most people were aware of, so when her schooling came up in conversation, it painted the picture of a talented, well-versed writer who had earned her place in the craft.

All the world's prettiest degrees did not make the young woman immune from the classic authorial curse: Writer's Block. With her first official week of teaching at the Xavier School under her belt and a Vlog uploaded online Saturday afternoon, Rebecca was committed to using her lazy Sunday to get back in the swing of things with her writing. When she was younger, she could knock out a poem or two she could be happy with, or even come up with the beginnings of a short story.

Today? Blank page. What was wrong with her? Maybe she was overwhelmed with everything she was tossing on her plate, or maybe there was just something off in her that needed fixing; all she knew was her words were behind some wall in her head.

Absentmindedly petting Domino behind the year, Rebecca realized she was not even staring at her blank page anymore; she was looking at the wall behind her desk, which was somehow less productive. Taking a deep breath, the redhead stood from her seat and decided a change of scenery might jostle something out of her.

Grabbing a wool forest green trench coat and a grey scarf, Rebecca braced herself as she left the warmth of the Mansion's interior to wander around the grounds. It was a chilly day, but the wind was calm, making the New York weather bearable. There was a small notebook in her hand with a pen tucked in the spiral coil binding, but it was kept closed at her side. Until inspiration struck, she was tired of staring at a damn blank page. She would focus on the crunch of snow beneath her boots and the sounds of students running around, playing around the campus. Something would clear her mind out there, she was sure of it.

A blonde sat cross legged perched on a stone bench in a fairly quiet area of the grounds. She had some notes out in front of her and was casually adding to them with her headphones on. She was just drafting up notes for characters in her next installment, but it was so damn hard to focus at home or on uni campus. The mansion might have seemed like an odd choice to some people, with all the shenanigans that went down there on a daily basis, but she always felt relaxed in the grounds.

She yawned and thought a few moments before writing down a few more character traits for one that she was adding in the next book. She'd actually found playing tabletop games at University that certain games character creation processes turned out to be quite good for brainstorming ideas and traits for new characters, at least in the early stages of it.

She glanced up to see a vaguely familiar redhead walking in her general vicinity and stared at her for a moment, tilting her head and wandering where it was exactly that she recognized the other woman from.

The mansion grounds were surprisingly peaceful. Children would occasionally run past her throwing snowballs at one another, but everyone seemed to be letting Rebecca pass through in peace to enjoy the tranquility of Winter. After being away from the school for so long, walking the familiar fields and walkways filled her with a sense of nostalgia. As with any good nostalgia, she was remembering good memories that made her happy, as well as the best memories that made her sad.

While the grounds were familiar, faces she recognized were surprisingly few and far between. It made sense, she supposed, that people would drift in and out of the Mansion—she did, after all. Life was ever-changing, and mutants seemed more predisposed to the transient, wandering lifestyle than most. After spending two years in England, it did sting to realize how life in New York moved on without her.

Rebecca followed a path of step stones toward a small grassy space. There were trees around the area, casting shifting shadows; the branches kept the area from being covered in the same snow that blanketed the campus. In the middle of the clearing, there was an occupied bench. Looking at the young blonde woman, the Scot’s curiosity was piqued. She was not, to Rebecca’s knowledge, a student enrolled at the Mansion, and seemed just too old to fit the bill by any account. More than that, there was something… familiar about her.

A memory came back to Rebecca: it was from a time after the Ragman. She was still in terrible condition, her broken psyche recovering, and she had been looking for her brat of a cat who had escaped somewhere in the Mansion. Despite her struggles, a very kind blonde girl with a British accent offered her help to the cause.

Walking over to the bench, Rebecca smiled and asked in her Scottish lilt, ”Serena? Is ‘at ye?”

Serena's eyes flicked up to the familiar face as she approached. She pulled her headphones out and gave the newcomer an optimistic smile. If they were approaching her, maybe they had met somewhere. Or maybe it was a new mansion staff member asking what she was doing out here? She hoped it was the former. Though of course it might be a little embarrassing to speak to someone who knew who she was when she had forgotten them.

Ah. It was the former. A Scottish accent? She couldn't remember having terribly many friends from that part of the UK. And yes, they did seem to know her. Oh dear. This was kind of terribly embarrassing. "Uh- Yes... Hello, I recognise you but I'm afraid I can't quite place a name to go with the face, sorry about that." She admitted, slightly embarrassed.

She kept studying the redhead's features, trying to work out exactly where the other girl had met Serena. Did she know her from around the mansion? She found herself holding out a little hope that it was someone who knew her by reputation or something, or she'd had a class with a long time ago, not actually a friend that she'd forgotten.

Rebecca was not offended that Serena did not remember her clearly; the version of Rebecca Grey the blonde had met was a shell of who she really was. Sure, she was still the same person, but after the incident, she was more like a frightened bunny than a person, and her social graces were recovering from a long drought, going unused in the void. It was not Rebecca’s proudest time, but Serena was sweet to her regardless; it was why the younger woman still stood out in her mind.

Rebecca flashed a toothy smile and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. ”Nae need fur sorries, we didne really gie much time tae gie tae know each other aside frae first impressions.” It felt bad to admit, but after her recovery, Rebecca buried herself in her schoolwork, her job, and her relationship in hopes of catching up on all three fronts. Potential new friendships unfortunately suffered.

”Ah’m Rebecca,” she said, offering her hand along with her reintroduction. ”Mebbe ye ‘member helpin' a puir, confused lass lookin' fur 'er kitten?” She could only assume Serena did not make a habit of helping girls locate lost pets often enough for that to not ring a bell.

Serena's smile widened at the other girl. She was certainly quite beautiful. It was always nice when the people you were around also made for good eye candy. Not the only reason Serena would stick around certain people, but it was most definitely an awesome benefit. As the woman spoke and Serena recognised the name the memories came flooding back to her. She remembered the woman's demeanor being very very different though.

"Yes, I'm so sorry Rebecca. I've had such a packed few years in terms of meeting people that it slipped my mind, I wasn't trying to be rude." It was definitely quite a thick Scottish accent. Serena felt a little flutter of definite attraction.

Serena blinked, thinking of the time that they first met. It was not a fun time in her life truth be told. She remembered a sense of relief after the meeting with the redhead that she'd met someone more unbalanced than she had been at the time, which in retrospective was quite a mean thing to think, but hey she wasn't in a great place then. "Yes, I definitely remember the adorable kitten." She added with a giggle.

As Rebecca expected, the little reminder she provided was enough to bring their meeting back to the forefront of Serena’s memory. She said sorry, but there was no need in Rebecca’s eyes for apologies. ”That's definitely life in New York,” she agreed, knowing all too well the influx of friends and acquaintances she experienced when she came into the city.

Not wanting Serena to think it was all her fault that Rebecca slipped her mind, she explained, ”Ah got occupied wi' college an' 'en mah Masters, sae Ah wisnae exactly aroond much.” She grinned at Serena’s last comment and added, ”Thocht aam glad Domino gart an impression.” Her kitten could be a pain in the butt, but he was an adorable pain in the butt.

Rebecca was out on the grounds to walk and enjoy her peace and solitude in hopes of gathering up her lost muse, so it made sense to bring the conversation to an end, let her know she was glad to bump into her, and hope they ran into each other again soon. Out of nowhere, though, Rebecca suddenly found her legs wanting a short rest. She gestured to the spot next to Serena on the stone bench. ”Woods ye min' mah company fur a minute? Ah've bin walkin' aroond tae clear mah heed an' coods use a break.” And maybe, quite frankly, she was just happy to have a chance to reconnect with someone she knew however briefly way back when.

Serena wandered what the other girl had been up to. She didn't think she'd ever gotten Rebecca's actual age, but she knew that the redhead was at least older than she was. After all, Serena was only just about to start her masters, if the Scot had finished hers already she was definitely a couple of years older. Come to think of it... Serena had only been about 16 when the two of them first met, that was a long time ago.

She giggled once more. "Yes, I do adore animals. But I don't generally get to spend that much time around them, and I don't know if I could keep a pet... I'm so busy most of the time I don't think I could give them the attention they deserved." She supposed though a cat wouldn't be an awful idea, she did spend a lot of her time on the laptop doing writing and edits for work. Which meant she could at least be around it.

Another warm smile was given to the Scottish lass, along with a nod. Serena edged up on the seating a little bit. At least it would be warmer, considering she had been sitting on it for a while. She neatly folded up her notes and started putting them away. "So if you don't mind me asking, Rebecca, what exactly did you study?"

Rebecca understood the struggle of being an animal love with a busy schedule. Domino was her constant companion through college study sessions, but when she traveled to Oxford for her Masters, her kitten had to remain behind. One of the professors kept the kitten fed and cared for while she was away, but she did regret that, once again, there was another part of her life she had to leave behind in New York.

As she took her seat next to Serena, Rebecca gave her reassurance as one animal lover to another. ”Skale diz 'at. In th' meantime, yoo're welcome tae come see Domino again sometime.” She considered leaving it there, but grinned and decided to add, ”Ah’m sure he'd loove tae see a bonnie face loch yoors again.” It was a compliment a much younger Rebecca would have blushed just thinking about, but Serena was a very pretty woman; she told her so years ago, and the fact remained true.

The stone was cold, but the length of her coat kept it under her bottom, keeping the cold from getting through her jeans. Asked about her studies, Rebecca thought back fondly to her long nights of literature and writing until her wrists cramped. ”Ah hae a Masters in Creatife Writin'.” She held up her closed notebook. ”Nae 'at mah writer's block cares.”

Glancing over at the notes Serena was shuffling away, Rebecca asked, ”An' whit dae ye study?”

Serena also wandered what an animal would do for her level of productivity. Mind you, she was always being told by friends and lecturers that she was insane for taking on as much at a time as she did. But still, she liked being so on top of all of her responsibilities. She did sometime wish there was more time in the day to be able to come and help out around the mansion though.

Serena wasn't entirely sure on all of the Scottish colloquialisms, but she was fairly sure the other girl had just paid her a very nice compliment. Her smile and eyes brightened a little bit in response to it. "Thank you, that would be nice. I'm glad to hear you still have him." She vaguely remembered what the kitten looked like.

She leaned forwards now, definitely intrigued. Well now, Rebecca just became a hell of a lot more interesting. "That's fantastic!" She exclaimed. She smiled, she knew writers block pretty well too. "Well the mansion grounds in my experience do help with writers block too. I quite like going down to a coffee shop near my apartment, that always seems to help me think. It's also a great excuse to get a good cup of coffee."

A sly grin. "Well at the moment I'm studying advanced Bio-chem at NYU, but I also take a few extra classes on the writing front for fun." She neglected to mention the part about actually being published.

Rebecca was a responsible woman who was only forgetful of what did not matter. She was good with names and faces, she remembered her tasks and assignments, and she remembered to feed and clean up after Domino daily. Owning a cat was admittedly less of a time commitment than owning a dog, so she could be glad, as busy as she was, she was a cat person. As busy as Serena was, given some time, Rebecca was still confident she could probably convince the blonde young woman to adopt a kitten in need of a home.

Serena spoke of writer’s block with familiarity, which intrigued Rebecca. She recommended a coffee shop, and the redhead could not help but giggle. ”Definitely th’ classic writer refuge. Ah guess Ah wasnae quite in th’ muid fur people t’day.” Glancing over at Serena, Rebecca smiled and revised her anti-social statement. ”Weel, most people, anyways. Thoucht tea daes sound lovely,” she mused aloud to herself.

The mention of bio-chemistry was impressive to Rebecca, as it would be to any student of the humanities. Science was fascinating to her, but it did not connect to how her mind worked. It was even more intriguing that she was delving into writing on the side; a multi-faceted mind, indeed. ”Plenty clever an’ a plent pretty, Ah’m sure yoo’ll gang far.” New York was full of beautiful women, but to be brilliant beyond that gave Serena a real edge. (And, from experience, a pleasant accent never hurt either.)

”Sae dae ye still live at th’ Mansion, ur are ye jist visitin’?” Rebecca knew there was more to the Mansion’s tenant list than students and staff; it was a refuge for some mutants. ”Ah knae Ah lived haur mah first few years at Columbia.” It was her junior year when Rebecca had saved enough money to make the decision to live on campus. She was piling on her school workload, and it just became easier to cut the commute out of her daily routine.

Serena smirked. Yes, it was definitely a writer's refuge. In fact, though she didn't actually mention it by name that happened to be exactly the title of the establishment in question. It'd gotten that name for being a popular stomping grounds for all kinds of people looking for inspiration and a peaceful environment to work in, from students working on their dissertations, to full time writers trying to get edits done. "They serve tea too, they have a reasonable selection, all things considered."

Serena's cheeks lit themselves with a small blush, but underneath her lips spread themselves into a playful grin. "You're not too bad yourself, you know?" She replied, her sky blue eyes twinkling playfully.

She shook her head lightly. "Nope, I've been moved out of the mansion for a few years now, I've got an apartment in the city. I just visit a lot, I like to help out where I can, you know giving back and all that?" She grinned. "The people here helped me through the hardest time in my life, seems like the least I can do is give a little of my free time to help out where they need it, a school of mutants has it's fair share of shenanigans."

Serena’s assurance that there would be tea at her go-to spot was a ringing endorsement to Rebecca, who made a mental note to ask about the location soon. She loved the Mansion, but occasionally it was good to get away from her home environment to see if it freed up some of the ideas she had locked away. Plus, if an English woman was crediting the shop’s tea, it would be worth considering.

The chilly air had already cast a permanent pink on Rebecca’s cheeks, but the blush darkened when Serena returned her compliment. She was much better at accepting praise than she once was, after a short career of constantly parading around in costumes at the comic shop, but she still had a weakness for genuine compliments, regardless of who they were coming from. Rebecca would be lying if she claimed to not be at least mildly curious about the woman’s sexual preferences, but two years of single life could do that to a girl. Playing it off confidently, she replied, ”Ah micht, but it's braw tae hear anyway. Thenk ye.”

Her new old friend was no longer a resident of the Mansion, but she still felt the obligation to even return and give back, which was a sentiment Rebecca could relate to. ”Ah totally understand. When Ah got back, Ah actually heard th' English Teacher position hud opened up haur. Guess Ah’m givin' back noo, tay,” she admitted, smiling at the thought of helping the youth of mutantkind grow.

”'Sides, bein' a writer isnae th' steadiest paycheck,” she said, because that did play an honest role in her decision. The life of a full time writer was turbulent, and lately, Rebecca was still trying to decide if that was where her future was still heading. She mumbled, mostly to herself, ”Assumin' that's whit Ah’m still doin'.” This doubt was not plaguing her before she went to the United Kingdoms, so why was it here now?

((Miss Grey's Translation Corner: Braw=Nice))

A chilling wind blew a little past, Serena shivered only slightly and brushed the hair that had strayed near her face out of the way. At Rebecca's reaction though a sly grin crept across her face. "Oh, do you have issues with people commenting on how jaw dropping you are?" She had injected a certain level of confidence and playfullness into her voice. Serena was now very comfortable with her sexuality, and would compliment people appropriately.

"That's fantastic! The school could really do with more teachers, and It's always good for the students to get teachers that are from different places, helps give them a better taste of the wider culture and all that." She nodded approvingly.

Serena nodded empathetically. She had gotten very very lucky with the sales of her first published work, she was under no illusions there. The fact that she now had a book deal and a permanent editor was a testament to that, and she could probably support herself on it, but realistically most authors couldn't do that.

"I'm sure you'll do just fine, if you've only just recently moved back don't expect too much of yourself right away, especially if you're just getting into the swing of teaching, it seems to be fairly intensive."

Serena was not afraid to be a bit more forward with her complimenting, it would seem. Rebecca took the sweet words graciously, but she was definitely starting to feel her cheeks heat up now. ”Ah dornt min' one bit when it's comin' frae someain e'en cuter.” She was definitely flirting now, and unless her gaydar was failing her, (as it often did,) the flirtation was being reciprocated. There was a fluttery sensation in her stomach when she realized the territory she was treading into; she had done minimal (sober) flirting in England, and there was a very real fear she could be rusty.

It was nice to see Serena was as kind and supportive as she remembered. In one fell swoop, she had thrown her full support behind what Rebecca was hoping to bring to the school as a teacher, and gave her some assurance that she was going to be fine when she found her rhythm. ”Yoo're probably reit. Ah hae ne'er bin one tae shy awa' frae puttin' tay much oan mah plate, ur at leest that's whit… mah auld friend used tae say.” Years later and Rebecca was still hesitating to use Agnes’s name or reference her as her ex-girlfriend. Some mental barriers were hard to break.

She was having too good a reunion to get dragged down in self-pity. ”Warst case scenario, Ah burn aw mah notebooks an' gang aw in oan teachin' an' voice actin',” she half-joke, knowing it was another realistic option she had been kicking around in her head. ”Enaw abit me! Whit plans diz th' genius scientist hae ance she finishes skale?”