Xaviers!

Tereza lets out a heavy breath as she wrests her arms on the side of the pool. Too much in her head and it was making the wolf restless. The next Russian mission, flight training, Isolde, Sam. And she thought being a former mutant terrorist was complicated enough. Another lap of the pool and she returned to the same position, leaning on the side of the pool.

Will came in to the pool room in lime-green speedo, stretching and loosening up his limbs.

He paused when he spotted Tereza in the pool. He gave a sheepish little wave.

"Hey, Will," Tereza says, giving him a strangely assessing look. In the back of her mind, the wolf decides 'not food.' "Good to see you back. Sam was worried sick about you."

Will returned the assessing look. The only thing faster than speedsters at Xaviers was the rumor mill, and Will had had...special interests in hearing certain rumors.

"Hey, Tereza. It's good to be back. Sorry that I worried everyone; I hope no one lost too much sleep over little ol' me."

"Sam's feathers were certainly ruffled until she got you back. Just sorry I couldn't help break you out. My face is in a couple of bad databases for taking on missions like that."

"Don't worry about it -- at all. Most of you've only got the one face to work with, you know," he joked, walking over to the water's edge. "Been keeping busy while I've been away?"

"Just a trip home to Russia chasing an assassin and planning another trip back to visit my childhood home. Got bitten by someone the Headmistress insists isn't a werewolf, but I'm better now." She gives him a mildly predatory grin.

"Well, if our illustrious and wise headmistress insists, then clearly, it can't have been a werewolf," Will said, taking an instinctual quarter-step backwards.

"When you say better..."

"First full moon after she bit me, I turned into a ravening hell beast. Was shit timing, let me tell you. I'm not about to bite *you*, if that's what worries you."

"Well, I appreciate that. It would be...redundant, I suppose!

Other than the full moon bits, though, you're OK? Hanging in there?" he said, deliberately coming forwards and squatting down near where Teresa was hanging on the edge, to be more at eye level.

"Hanging in there might be generous, but I'm working on it," she says, reaching back to wring water out of her black and white hair and magically avoiding meeting his eyes because of it.

"Hey," he said, quietly. "When I first got my memories back, you told me I could always stop by your place if I needed help; that you were available if I needed to talk.

It's the same the other way. I've known some feral shifters in my time; it's...a heck of a drug. It's OK."

She does meet his gaze this time. There's an obvious moment of conflict before she says quietly, "It was dark in my head before it happened. This hasn't made it any better. She craves violence. Sam's the only one who's safe when the wolf gets the better of me." She takes a deep breath, "And if I'm honest, on some level, I enjoy it. A hell of a drug as you say."

Will swallowed a bit at that. "Y...yeah. I know what it's like to give in to those instincts. Admittedly, mine is more the 'be comfortable and useful' rather than the violence type, but...it can be enjoyable, at times, to just give in to them.

Sam. Sam is good at measuring these things, though she's got her own inner...demons to deal with right now. If she's safe for, uh, some reason, then she's a good one to help you through this," Will said, carefully measuring his words.

"She's helping. This grabs that strange other side of her that shows up now and then. It loves that I'm a *weapon* and... I think I'm okay with that. I know that should scare me, but it doesn't. Just makes her more attractive really."

Will sighed, and then chuckled, ruefully. "It certainly does, at that. It's intoxicating.

So. You and Sam, huh?"

It's Tereza's turn to look sheepish. "Yeah. Just sort of happened. The full moon was our first date. Didn't end the way I wanted it to."

"But I bet she ended up not minding so much, once it turned out you were OK.

I swear to god, next dimension I pop into? I'm going full-fluffball from day one. Soft and fuzzy seems to be the way to go," he said, laughing, sighing, and shaking his head.

"Well, she still worries about me. She worries about damn near everyone, especially you. So she has a type, huh?"

"Worrying is a universal constant, but don't let her know that. She'll start worrying about that, and worry open a hole in time and space...or something.

A 'type' might be stretching it, but I spent more time than I'd like to admit cleaning out her shower drains back home. Shifty McRotorRooter."

Tereza laughs, an actual genuine laugh that seems to lighten her soul. "Goddess, yes, let's not has a worry hole in the universe." She reaches out to lay a hand on his, nails sharp and pointy.

Will raised one eyebrow at that. "New manicurist, I see. Very punk rock," he teased.

"I'm pretty sure the ancient texts had it all wrong. The Morrigan has nothing to do with the battlefield, or death or sovereignty or any of that. She's the goddess of overthinking, blessed with the power of know that what could go wrong, will."

"Well, what could go wrong, Will?" She quips, before getting slightly more serious, "I know she means a lot to you and you may hear that I'm a possessive bitch, no pun intended, but just because I'm with Sam, that doesn't change my offer. Our room is safe space for you if you ever need it."

"I thank you. I..." he trailed off.

"You're possessive. That's...that's OK! I'm not, uh. I'm not looking to...to challenge that, no matter what my feelings for Sam were. Are. Wereare. And if I ever cross any lines, then, well, you've got a voice in the back of your head telling you what to do, I'm sure.

But if she is going down this road, and she is embracing, uh, this part of herself...I've sworn an oath and made a compact. Not to this Morrigan, of course, but to my Morrigan. Maybe they're too different; I don't know. But...I became part of that Sam's life. That Morrigan's life. And...I guess it's kind of my..."

He trailed off again.

"My duty, I suppose, to help her. If she wants it. If she needs it."

He stared down into the pool, as if the reflections would show something that wasn't there.

"Sam's her own woman and I'm not the boss of her, no matter what my own other half is telling me. If anything, this Morrigan thing means a lot to me or maybe just my other side or maybe both, hard to say. You do you, Will, and if whatever it is helps Sam, then that's good for me too."

"Alright. We'll play this by ear.

I'll admit, there were...conflicts, at times. Between me and my Sam's, uh, partner. I was over there a lot when I first kind of took on my role, and it, well. They say cats are territorial. And that was with an older, more mature Sam -- not, uh, someone just exploring the dating scene. I'm no third wheel. Unless it's literal. I'll try to help her get comfortable with The Morrigan, but if I cross a line -- any line -- snap me back into place.

I spent a lot of time with Sam and, uh, her family. Back home. I worked it out so they literally had the apartment across from me, and I spent a lot of time over there. Made some dinners, did some cleaning, sat and talked...tried to make myself useful, when necessary. And they spent a lot of time with us. Me, my daughter... all of us. Kind of a nice big, happy family, you know?"

He was tiptoeing around something; it didn't take a telepath to know that.

"But that's not something that would happen, like, tomorrow, even in the best case. If she is the Morrigan, and she does need a Champion, the compact might well be different, the rules might be different...any most of my family's not here, anyway."

Her eyes narrow a bit as she looks at Will, assessing again, "There's something you're not telling me."

"It's, uh, really not important. A different woman from a different place. No matter how much everyone looks alike, they're different, right?"

"We've already discussed that I'm not like my other universe self at all, so I would assume the same would follow for whoever your universe's Sam has made a home with."

"Right, right. I just figured, you know. You might not want to know details. I probably wouldn't!"

"Will it help me understand or help Sam?"

"Some things would. Other things might make you annoyed, jealous or angry at something that hasn't even happened in this dimension. I...won't withhold anything I think is important, I promise, but..."

"But you don't want to make me angry." She raises an eyebrow at him, "I'll trust your judgment on this, but I hate unknowns."

"I do make it a habit not to annoy werewolves," Will said, mildly. "For I am squishy and go well with ketchup."

"Squishy, yes, but I'd debate the ketchup thing."

"Well, maybe not in this form," Will admitted. "But others."

"Or is this more of a protest on condiments in general?"

"A protest on ketchup, though my other half doesn't think you're food."

"My thanks to your other half," Will said, with an exaggerated bow of deference. "I hope that holds true for most people on campus? Or should I take it as a personal affront to my tastiness?"

"It's confusing. A lot of people on the campus come off as 'prey', but not food," she says, "Though if she's a predator, it's confusing why the two don't mean the same thing. Or it could just mean that the easier pickings of the cafeteria suit her just as well."

"That might be you as some kind of mediating factor as well, right? You don't normally eat your friends; maybe your wolf can sense that? Wouldn't explain why some people are prey and some are not, though."