Gina's volunteering gig had ended hours earlier-- she usually came on the mornings she didn't have class, and typically finished just before lunch. She'd assist in the classrooms, go where she was needed... one of the instructors invited her to stay for lunch and, afterwards, Gina had stuck around, reminiscing. Of course there were girls in her old room, now-- a lot of the faces had changed.

But the halls were still the same, and for the most part, the teachers were too. Gina had paid a visit to the Doc Prof, to Ms. Taylor, and to the library. In some ways, the books were her old friends, too.

Gina now found herself wandering down one of the familiar halls, clawed fingertips trailing lightly over the molding. Most of the kids had resumed class, so the halls were quiet, now, spare when she occasionally passed the closed door of a classroom.

The ice-mancers feet dragged up the stairs one after another as a yawn was stifled with a beer can. It was morning or afternoon now; he was able to tell from the amount of sunlight shining through the windows. The Danger Room didn’t have windows or clocks unless they were programed to be there. This time however there wasn’t. Sam was feeling pretty fresh from an all nighter. One robbery and a fire managed to give him enough adrenaline to keep him going until an hour or so ago.

The beer was now his primary source of fuel. Normally it would have been whiskey or something stronger but he found lately beer was more than enough to give him a sense of what was real and what wasn’t. Maybe because he had been forced to slow down the drinking? Something he was grateful for and something he regretted. Less booze meant less sleep. After scaring the LED’s out of Juliette he tried to keep his sleep light and quick. Even if he wanted nothing more than to sleep next to her in his large, comfy… and … Sam sipped his beer again and held onto the other three still attached to the plastic holder.

His shirt slightly burned and torn he finished the last step and stretched his arm out with his beer. It was a school but as long as he wasn’t flaunting it, no body said too much. At least the students and staff (other than Gemma… Rudy… DJ Roomba… Doc…. And of course Juliette).

Rubbing the back of his head and sipping his beer again he raised an eyebrow at the greyed woman with claws and wings. A face he recognized instantly. Not because she volunteered at the mansion, nor the fact that she used to live there. It was because her face was in the video before the riots. Sam shifted uncomfortably and nodded his head, ”…. Yo…” her name escaped him.

Gina paused as a man came into view. There was a glimmer of recognition in her expression, he was a staff member here. At Xavier's. She'd even taken a year of self-defense with him, after the run-in with the fuzz. Mr. Johnson. Sam Johnson. Cafas's brother.

It was about that time that he spied the young gargoyle.

>> "... Yo..."

"Mr. Johnson," Gina said respectfully, offering a casual salute, "Been a while. How are you?"

The gargoyle, not noticing that he'd forgotten who she was, did not offer her name or any other indication of their affiliation.

It was about then that she'd noticed the collection of beer he was amassing-- one can that he was currently working-on, and three... survivors. So far. Her gaze flicked from the beverage to Sam, the concern only a glimmer before giving-way to a polite smile. The frick was he doing drinking at two in the afternoon?

She was being polite. Not a lot of kids called him Mr. Johnson at least no one has in a while. It sounded forgein to him so he offred up a correction quickly. ”Sam. Call me Sam when you aren’t in my class.” Sam looked around for a clock then back to Gina, ”You aren’t in a class of mine are you?” he asked quickly before sipping his beer. He probably shouldn’t have been drinking if he was teaching a class though he was almost certain he wasn’t. If he was then the last few hours would have been a show for a student.

”I’m… okay…” he said thinking about it for a second then nodding his head. Sleep deprived and slightly intoxicated he was obviously tired. ”Long days… get used to it.” he shrugged.

”How have you been?” he thought about the next best thing, ”Haven’t seen you in a bit.” he sipped his beer, ”Busy?”

>> ”Sam. Call me Sam when you aren’t in my class. You aren’t in a class of mine are you?”

Gina rose an eyebrow at that. First-name basis? With a teacher?? Unthinkable. Even if he was a former teacher, that still warranted some form of respect, particularly when it came to addressing them.

"It's been a few years," the gargoyle confirmed, nodding her head.

A few years? She'd graduated three years ago. She didn't suppose every instructor remembered every student, even in an intimate school like Xavier's. Oh well.

>> ”I’m… okay… Long days… get used to it.”

Gina eyed the bottle, wondering for a moment if it was one of those glass-bottled sodas.

>> ”How have you been? Haven’t seen you in a bit. Busy?”

She watched as Mr. Johns-- er, Sam-- took a swig of his bottled beverage and, on the way back, she caught a whiff of the undeniable twinge of alcohol lingering on the air.

"Er, yeah," the gargoyle explained hesitantly, "Been going to NYU, working on a double-major... and volunteering here, so that keeps me pretty busy." Gina trailed off, "I also do some free-lance clothing design, also rather time-consuming."

Gina paused, gaze flickering over Sam and, again, towards the bottle of beer. Should she call attention to it? Ask about it? What were the rules for drinking in the presence of students?

”Double major and volunteering?” Sam smirked and snapped his fingers, ”dang, super busy then! Must be great at time management.” Sam sipped his drink then asked ”so what kind of volunteering are you doing here? Big sister, sub teaching?”

Shifting his weight and turning the large burn hole in his shirt towards her he followed up asking, ”Any good at patch work? Might need a new one too, any good with fire proof material?” Sam asked as he took a sip of his beer.

It took Sam a second to realize her gaze was passing over the drinks in his hand he shifted his weight again and then offered her up one of the drinks. ”You’re legally allowed to drink right?” Sam asked hoping she wasn’t just another underage kid who was eyeing his alcohol. He was running out of hiding spots in the mansion. ”You can have one with you want.”

>> ”Double major and volunteering? Dang, super busy then! Must be great at time management. So what kind of volunteering are you doing here? Big sister, sub teaching?”

“I just never sleep,” the gargoyle said, half-joking, “Mostly I’ve just been doing odd-jobs, depending on where I’m needed…” Helping in classes, shredding papers, meal prep. Mostly the principal just sent Gina wherever she was needed, it wasn’t really scripted or set.

>> “Any good at patch work? Might need a new one too, any good with fire proof material?”

“Depends on the damage,” Gina said, surveying the hole, “You might need to bid farewell to it.”

It was a large hole. She also wasn’t entirely sure of what “fireproof material” actually

>> “You’re legally allowed to drink right? You can have one with you want.”

Gina held up a polite hand, “Still gotta fly home, Sam. I’m alright.”

And it was maybe 2 in the afternoon. Maybe. Too early to be drinking. Since Mr. Johnson had called attention to the beers, however, Gina figured he’d opened himself to some minor grilling.

“Sam,” she said, purposefully using the first-name that he’d insisted Gina call him, “Are you sure you should be wandering the halls while you’re drinking, at this hour? It’s, like, two in the afternoon. There has to be rules about that… like, school rules…”

”Awww really? Took me so long to break this one in too.” Sam said eyeing the hole then taking a swig of his beer before forgetting about the hole. He could always buy other shirts maybe not as comfortable as the one he had on now but surely with less holes in them.

When she mentioned that she couldn’t have any because she had to fly home Sam had a feeling where this conversation was going. His nostrils flared and he took another swig of his drink to be even more defiant than he apparently already was. He wasn’t mad but a little irritated. He didn’t like it when people questioned if it was the right time to drink it usually was mixed in with feelings of pity. He didn’t like to be pitied.

”I just walked up from the Danger Room after a few hour cool down training session. I brought the beers because before that I put out a fire and stopped a robbery, which I was shot at more than once.” Sam emptied the contents of the first drink as he cracked open another brewski. ”Before that I haven’t slept in probably over twenty four hours.” Sam took a sip and then looked off into nothing as if he was pondering.

He was being a little rude but like he had said it was a long day, ”Think I earned a few.” Sam said as he then chimed in on the fact that this was a school as well. ”Class is still in session, I live here and the only person I think I’m distracting with my behavior at the moment is you… am I at least a good one?” Sam smirked then gave an apologetic nod, ”So I’m sorry for any trouble…”

The gargoyle's smile flickered ever so slightly. She was trying to be delicate about the whole “drinking at 2” thing, and Mr. Johnson smarted-off about his busy afternoon rather than explain to Gina what the school rules were. His sarcastic response was met with a droll half-lidded look.

“Goodness, sounds like you've had a packed day,” the gargoyle remarked. She strolled past Sam and, along the way, she curled her tail around the handle of the six-pack and yanked. Now a majority of the beers were grasped in her tail and conveniently out of reach.

“How about this-- I'll follow you to your room, and you can lay down, get some rest, and drown your stress in beer, in the privacy of your own room,” Gina proposed. It was obvious by her tone of voice that it wasn't up for debate. She didn't dignify his jab at her with a response.

“I mean, you said yourself that you live here, right?” Gina countered with a shrug, “So lead the way, Mr. Johnson. I'll be your personal beer caddy.”

And to think this functioning alcoholic used to be her teacher… Gina kept the six-pack clasped firmly in her tail, fanning her wings slightly. Even if Sam wanted to he wouldn't be able to get around her wings.

The air got colder when Gina approached and wrapped her prehensile tail around his six pack. If it was anyone else there was a good chance he would have swung on them but Gina for the most part never rubbed him the wrong way so when she stole his beer all she got was a chill. ”I did.” Sam agreed as he made a pass at his beer and tried to swipe it back. The way she responded probably couldn’t have worked better in her favor. She was about as sassy as Sam was meaning he was in good company.

”I have a girlfriend so you coming to my room…” Sam folded his arms slightly and raised an eyebrow as he smirked, ”Sides I don’t think you could deal with me.” Sam waved for the beer. ”So how about you hand me my beer back and I’ll go on my own.” Sam said having no intentions of going back to his room. Even if he was physically and mentally exhausted and could use some sleep he had a feeling he’d be getting none.

Sam made one last swipe at the beer hoping he could reach out for the beverages in time before her tail moved but he had no luck. Sure he could have taken the beer from her but even if she wasn’t a former student Sam had no intention harming her for his drinks. ”Fine, mom.” Sam huffed slightly and walked towards the stairs.

”Sam… you aren’t in any of my classes. You address me as Sam. Otherwise you get detention for stealing my beer.”

The gargoyle tilted her chin at Sam, "I think I can handle myself."

She could control whatever Sam was implying by "oh, but I have a girlfriend" nonsense. He was a former teacher and, although a good-looking former teacher, it would be too f***ing weird to even think about him like. And as per the whole "you couldn't deal with me" schtick, what was he going to do? Attack a volunteer on school grounds, over contraband? That'd go over well. Unless he meant "you couldn't haul my drunk *ss up the stairs if I passed out", in which case Gina would just fetch someone else.

So perhaps she was getting a little worked-up. Thankfully, Sam yielded and began trudging towards the stairs. The querrelous gargoyle followed dutifully behind him. Sam threatened detention if she called him "Mr. Johnson" one more time, and the gargoyle quirked a smile.

"As you wish, Mr. Sam," the gargoyle teased, ascending the stairs. A silence stretched between them but, even when annoyed, the gargoyle didn't handle quietness well.

"What've you been up to?" Gina asked, out of the blue, "Besides today, I mean. In the grand scheme of things. You have a girlfriend now?"

She didn't remember Sam having a girlfriend when she was a student.

The stairs were easy to navigate he’d done it with his eyes closed a hundred times before and even more when he only had one so he wasn’t focused on up the stairs just the idea of drinking the rest of his beer that was following close behind him. He was tempted to try and snatch one for the rest of the walk but refrained for now. When she broke the silence he responded without thinking. ”Police work, training drinking, paperwork, missions, drinking, girlfriend.” there wasn’t sleep anywhere in there and he didn’t mind pointing that out.

”Yes, I have a girlfriend.” Sam raised the beer to his mouth and took a sip. ”Surprisingly enough some women find me charming.” Sam laughed and then added, ”Think I got extremely lucky. She’s a nurse and can patch my @@@ up.” Rounding the next set of stairs and going up his hand shot back once or twice to reach for the beers.

”What about you?” Sam asked curiously, ”Been practicing?” Sam asked more about his subject than anything. If she was a former student of his he hoped she still knew some things he taught.

Sam’s summary of goings-on was insightful, however brief. For example, Gina didn’t know he did police-work. The rest… girlfriend aside… came as no surprise. The gargoyle laughed, offering no comment on how “surprising” it was that ladies found him appealing. He wasn’t an ugly dude, so at least in physical aspects Gina could see how he’d be physically attractive (despite how annoying he was at the present moment).

“A nurse, huh? That’s something,” Gina agreed. As Sam took his chance at nabbing a beer, Gina’s tail jolted just out of reach, her expression wry. It was like when her big brothers played keep away with her.

“I’ve taken a few self-defense classes at the college,” Gina confirmed, “Nothing noteworthy or too advanced, though.”