Granny was new to the Mansion. This much was clear to everyone who saw her walking – well more hobbling on a stick, but thank you, most people ignore that politely – through the corridors, trying to get acquainted with both a feeling for general directions in the building as well as all the rooms that lay hidden behind the doors branching off to both sides. Yes, she simply opened them. It was not like she was in the personal areas of students (or teachers for that matter) but rather in the corridors that held the classrooms. Most were unused at this time, most students having gone for lunch into the kitchen area. Or were outside where the leaves began to color. She had to admit, the Mansion looked quite British in fall. The big brick building, its many large windows facing outwards, the sun, had that feel of a manor house around it that was just amplified by the beginning falls changes in nature.

You almost expected a horse-and-dog hunting company to burst from the grounds and into the woods at any moment. Well not the moments that students were outside. Then you better started hiding, for chances were good that you would meet things like a burning chair, a blast of sand or any other of the hundred-something forms of mutation in this place. Meet to the face that was.

Granny opened the next door, trying to memorize the way she had taken already. Chemistry, Chemistry, Physics and now, or so it seemed, a language classroom. Shelves upon shelves of books filled the far side of the room. The teachers desk held a rather agreeable amount of them too. Not that she could read the titles from her vantage point near the door, but the sheer size of the stack was most agreeable indeed.

Another thing was not. She heard rather than saw the whispers – they must be rather loud for her to hear them this clearly – of love. Or of love in the making. The happy sighing. The rattling of a chair in the back of the room. Granny blinked twice. This was not happening right here and right now. A table – it had been most precariously balancing on an edge before – was overturned by the out-of-sight action. The arthritic knuckles of her hands closed about the head of her walking stick with white-pressed ferocity. They even made old creaking noises.

Yes, Granny went into the room. Yes, she was quite silent against the onslaught of young love. Yes, she made it to the last row of tables. And why, yes, she did find out what was happening there.

A familiar green glow wrapped around the man in question. Wrapped around him and positively yanked him from what he was doing. In fact, she might have been a little too enthusiastic in the yanking. His face might have met the ceiling. Might. With a crash. And old buildings tended to have high ones at that. Ceilings. “Out.” She snapped at the rather most bewildered girl. “Out now.” Her voice was old, creaking ice. Her rheumy eyes were blazing with fire. They did not leave the girl before the door was firmly closed behind her very, very red face.

Only then it was that she removed the dangling man from the ceiling. To a certain extent. His head was facing hers now. Upside down. “Mr. Johnson. A pleasure. We need to talk.” Her grip around the walking stick never left the white-knuckled-rage state. The icy tone never left her voice.

Her name was Megan or Michelle…. It started with a ‘M’ he didn’t really care, for the moment he didn’t need to worry about her name. No Sam was more focused on something else. “M” was somewhat new to the school and for the most part unaware of Sam’s reputation with the older residents that happened to be female. She was single, which meant she was for the most part Sam’s type. The fact that she had the curves of a model also seemed to help. What didn’t really help was the fact that this twenty-year-old college student teleported at the most in opportune times. They were in his office then the danger room then the pool house.

Sam lost track when they were in the kitchen luckily they weren’t do anything to bad. ”Control the jumping…” Sam said his cold sense activated feeling the warmth of any nearby person that could see or hear them. Luckily there was none. Was he in the library? Didn’t matter he was somewhere and if it was the library Kealey didn’t have to know.

Sam’s hand traveled from her back to her front and she grinned as their lips locked. Sam’s knew where this was going however the world seemed to have a different location for him. Which seemed to be on the ceiling. Sam blinked with his one eye and looked down on ‘M’ and he blinked again. Pants falling to his ankles revealing his patriotic American flag boxer shorts. Feeling a tight grip around his chest he looked down to see a greenish light holding him up to the ceiling almost threatening to throw him through it. ”Wait!”

Before he could get a few other words out ‘M’ was putting her shirt back on and running out the door her face red clearly she didn’t think to use her powers. ”Well…” Sam looked down at the old lady and frowned, ”…Would have been a pleasure…” Sam muttered loud enough for the old woman to hear him. ”I’d prefer to talk with my pants on…” Sam said slightly irritated looking at the figure of green holding him up then looking to the old woman who seemed far too uptight for someone her age.

“Really?” Her voice held nothing of surprise. It also held no friendliness. And most certainly it was devoid of sympathy. After all I heard about you” Her eyes might have flickered in the direction of the newly closed door at that. And they remained glued there for several seconds of pointed, pointy silence. Heard. Most certainly. Now also: Seen. “I figured you were more of a 'natural' person” Oh and that jibe was delivered without poison. That were honest musings. To a face that was currently held opposite to hers. Just upside down.

Granny let her control around the mans legs slide, the green vanishing there. To compensate, the glow around his chest constricted. Maybe uncomfortably so. She did not think about his comfort at the moment. Following Gravity, the pants flowed down his legs. Somewhat. She let his arms free to do what they had to. Not his chest though. She was quite comfortable discussing business with people off-balance. And upside-down for that matter.

Cold fire still burned in her eyes. “Was she a student?” The question came seemingly innocent, very bland and unemotional. So much for fronts and appearances.

Sam’s eye fixed on the old woman and he felt the urge to growl at her if he were more of an animal. His hands reached down to his pants and he grinned at her jibs, they didn’t bother him any he was upset about the situation but the woman couldn’t really say anything to upset him other than suggest he would date a student someone he taught. On the contrary if he ever dated someone he made sure they weren’t students even in his private lessons.

Alexandra made it clear it would never work. ”She is a student but at a local college, she is also twenty years old…” Sam’s hands reached down and his waist and legs lifted up till his pants were in his grip.

Pulling his pants up Sam shot back a ”and naw, the natural thing ain’t me I’m not French… and besides it tends to chafe.” he felt the grip tighten around his chest and the room got colder cold enough for the old woman to see her breath if she exhaled. A fight was the last thing he wanted but he didn’t like the amount or respect he was getting for all the work he did around here. ”Be smart for you to set me down gently…” Sam said his eye fixing on the green light around his chest.

She was upside down but that smile that he was seeing was a frown and one that contained rage. ”Now what do we need to talk about?” Sam asked his grin turning to more of a serious face as he was for the most part relatively undisturbed that Granny was holding him upside down and was constricting his chest.

“I am sure we agree about who is the one with the bigger stick. And about who is the one with less maturity than the teenager that just ran away.” Had he actually believed her tale about being twenty? Now that was something. That girl had been a few years away from being in the two-past-something digit range. Eighteen maybe. She communicated her severe doubts with a raised eyebrow. Her breath was forming tiny clouds before her nose now. It got markedly cold indeed. Oh Cold Steel, you are such a predictable little man. Such a man indeed. Her hands on her walking stick began shaking lightly.

“Mr. Johnson, be advised that your attempts at making my old joints ache are succeeding. Should you continue, I will consider having you share my experience.” Oh so sweet old lady talking. Oh so sweet the music sounds (of your poisons in my ear). Her smile said something about her not thinking about giving him aches in locations like the chest. Call it pointedly looking. Those were her hints. And no, she did not tell him about her being able to lob cars. This man was dangerous enough for her to keep her edges hidden. Dangerous in so many ways. He was also, quite presently, her employer. Not that that part mattered overly much to her. She was not some frightening mutant bounty hunter after all. It was just that the kids here needed her. And pointedly not that thing hanging from the ceiling right now.

She did not set him down. She did turn him around though, keeping him hovering about ten centimeters off the ground. Her glow was flowing over much of his body again, her grip that was. The strain should lessen on him now. That was all. Should he desire more, he could always try, of course.

“Talk about... I could try the undignified, unprofessional and wildly inappropriate management of your personal life, but I think that you would rather not, would you?” She actually lifted a slightly shaky finger there. Point one. “I could try your undignified, unprofessional and wildly inappropriate management of this school. I think you rather not have that either, would you?” A second finger raised. “Or I could try your total lack of both manners and decency. But I think you already know that bit.” No, you heard most correctly. She just accused the man whom she had dangled near-naked from the ceiling of having no decency. And no manners. Yes she did not think that a problem at all. Her face said so. And a third finger came up, too. The hand was shaking more now. This cold was really not good for her joints. Or her feelings. “You see, Mr. Johnson, why don't you consider being a nice, manly, man for once and help an old lady out of her impasse?” Undignified. Unprofessional. Wildly inappropriate. Those were, indeed, the three words she associated most closely with Sam 'Cold Steel' Johnson. That should have been clear by now.

Not that she was hating him, really. No, that could not be said. But he was a strayed lamb from her flock. And she would have him back. Yes, she would use the walking stick, too. She hoped that would not be necessary. On the other hand there was the fact of having walked in upon him snuggling a college student. In a classroom. She snatched her hand down on the steadfast wooden handle. No more shaking, you old bones.

Mayday: Granny-zilla is loose. (We will crush your car as well.)

Sam smirked at the old bird some more, he knew who had the bigger stick. Something Sam admired slightly no matter how insulting she was being. His eye fixed on the old lady’s walking stick for a moment and then he looked at the green enveloping his body. He knew she was twenty she had paperwork and therefore Sam had seen it, sure it wasn’t the most professional way to get things done but he needed to know. It seemed the granny wasn’t shy about her thoughts either.

Looking back to the old bag Sam nodded his head slightly, ”Ache no just giving you a show of my powers you were doing the same no?” Sam asked with a hint of sarcasm in his voice as she moved him about and lowered him. Telekinetic? Sam wondered to himself as he sized the old pile of bones before him. He had a tussle with a telekinetic or two before they were a pain to deal with mainly because he couldn’t predict what they were going to do with their gift. Then again this might not be the case here.

”Personal for a reason.” Sam interjected quickly as she continued to belittle his personality flaws. It wasn’t the first time this happened. He briefly recalled a conversation or two he had with Ghost or Kealey. He tried to picture them older in the back of his mind as the Granny-Goodness was talking to him. Older ghost and Kealey made Sam chuckle a bit bad timing on his part but at the same time it was there to add to a topic she touched on.

”Got manners and decency but I often choose to ignore them, youth in revolt if you will.” Sam said off handily as she continued on. Once she finished Sam raised a finger of his own as he lessened on the cold, ”I’m more of a paper pusher when it comes to the hierarchy of mansion staff, now if your looking for Neena or Tricity there are a bit busy at the moment. Neena is abroad and Tricity is in and out of this place so much I don’t even know if she knows her office hours.” Sam paused and thought about it. He did understand why some would assume he was running the show… but he wasn’t and he had to correct them whenever the topic of him running the school was brought up.

”Now if you are questioning me on how I run things, maybe you should see me in action let me assure you my personal personality quirks have no affect on my abilities to lead. Separate business from pleasure right?” Sam asked Granny-Goodness as he waited to see if she would set him down anytime soon.

After a second passed he sighed and felt an itch by his injured eye and he frowned slightly, ”How about you let me down and we can have a proper discussion less you prefer I turn up the AC again?” Sam asked starting to feel slightly bold, ”Tea perhaps? We can talk about your, ‘Impasse’ all you want.” Sam asked resisting the urge to crack a joke about her age, he knew how older folks loved their warm beverages.

She tacitly ignored his interjections. In fact she ignored most of what he said. At least it did not seem to impact the mans situation in any meaningful sense. “If I were doing a show and tell, you would have a whole different kind of headache.” No, that was not innuendo. And she was still staring at the man quite intensely. As if he were a machine she intended to disassemble in the near future. To get a look at the working parts, the innards. Or maybe she was thinking about doing her mutant thing. The part she was not doing already. “I never noticed.” The bit about manners and decency that was. “And here's a bit of advice: Save rebellions for Dictators, Mr. Johnson. Or helpless Ladies trying to cross the street.” The fact that I did most certainly not does not concern you, at all. It made me who I am today. It made me proud. But you it made an overconfident man with too much breast in his hand half of the time. Or so she thought. Her battles also had left her with an intense dislike of authorities such as him.

“You will most certainly not invite me to Tea, ''Cold Steel''.” Her scorn was most audible. It appeared as if he had breached some other manner she considered quite important. Stepped wrong again. Dance, dance, around important subjects. And she did with a certain elegance. There was, for example the fact, that she did indeed let him to the ground. That this happened in a manner that also tugged on his pants was merely accidental of course. Tugged hard on his pants. “And we are going to talk about 'Impasse' here and now.” Yes, she made that decision. Firmly.

She even brandished her walking stick at him.

He didn’t like the way the woman was scolding him like a young child. He was younger than her obviously but he was still no mere child. He hadn’t been a child since he was five years old and there was no way he was going to be treated as such now especially to someone who he had just met that was under the impression she could read him like an open book. ”I’m sure I would.” Sam said humoring the old woman so she would indeed set him down and they could end this unpleasant meeting. He might still be able to patch things over with Mindy? Mary? What ever her name was.

He felt himself lower to the ground and his feet touched down however his feet were pulled along with his pants out from under him. He fell forward and caught himself from slamming his face on the ground and then he pushed himself upright and stood up slowly resisting the urge to ice the floor under the bag of bones while she was pointing her cane at him. It was tactless to break a woman’s old hip. It would only lead him to be chewed out, he had been chewed out before so for now he held onto his restraint.

Bending over he picked up his jeans and pulled them up and then buttoned them and adjusted his belt. It seemed she didn’t like the idea of tea with him, no matter it was a gesture to calm her down and possibly change the subject, ”Have it your way then.” Once his belt was fastened Sam reached up and a ice sculptor formed in his hand it was a cylinder of ice and using his powers he melted the center of the ice turning it into a glass the process took a few moments but when it was complete he took a sip of the melted ice and then smiled, ”So my impasse?” he gestured the glass of water towards him for her to continue.

Granny out the thing succinctly. And most directly. It was quite like her. Sometimes she hit people with cars. Over the head. Sometimes she just talked. To much the same effect.

"Your derogatory dreatment of women is chauvinistic, sexist and setting a bad example for the children you are trying to raise in this place. For their good and yours I suggest you not continue flaunting your exploits in my home."

Simple as that. She turned around and walked away from Sam. There was no need to state the Otherwise... part of ehr sentences. They had been aptly spoken about. The door opened, handle glowing green for a second or two. Then, in a bout of what some might call childishness - Granny slammed it shut. Deliberately. Loudly.

Sam blinked and took a sip of his ice water ”Well that went well…” as the door slammed shut and the old bag exited the room after a miniature temper tantrum. ”Her home? HER home!?” Sam asked to himself as he looked around and frowned tossing the glass up into the air having the glass and it’s contents shatter.

Irritated with the whole situation Sam let out a long deep breath and sighed rethinking all his past experiences. ”First time anyone was so direct…” despite the old woman’s disposition he respected her somewhat, he didn’t want to but he did.

Regardless of the woman’s view on Sam, he never once thought the way he treated any woman was poorly, sure he was a little more direct than most and defiantly more flirtatious but the way she described him. It made him rethink a lot of things, his past relationships and the way Leila left and Alex, then there was Haley. One was on better terms than the others but still the three most serious relationships he had ever been in ending. It was life he figured it was just growing up but still.

”Great…” Sam muttered as he brushed off his shirt and exited the room, ”First Ghost, then Kealey, now this old bag of bones…” Sam sighed, ”Just what I need.”