Rating: PG-13

Website: http://www.scifimorgue.com

Summary: A weakened Brennan accepts a helping hand from Jesse.

Disclaimers: Property of Marvel Studios.

Warnings:

Notes: Missing scenes from "Russian Roulette".

*****

Jesse knocked on the door of the changing room. "Adam figured out what you got hit with," he said. There was no reply. "Brennan?"

"I heard you," Brennan said.

The sound of something heavy hitting the floor got Jesse's attention. "Brennan?" No response. As seconds passed, his concern
grew. "Say something." He clenched his fists at the deafening silence. "I'm coming in."

He pushed outward with his mind, embracing nothingness; his body grew airy and nebulous. He walked through the gun-metal grey door of the changing room, what he saw inside made him lose his concentration. Brennan had curled up into a fetal position on the floor, clutching his sides in agony. Jesse yelled for Adam, and squated down to help. Brennan grabbed Jesse's arm, and shook his head.

"Just a cramp," he said. "I'm alright." His breathing relaxed. He tried to move his leg to cover himself, but the tight spandex shorts, pulled only halfway up his thighs, prevented that. He tried to pull up the shorts even though his muscled arms had lost most of their strength.

Jesse couldn't keep his eyes off the firm and furry latin derriere madly bobbing in his direction. It was like watching a fish flop
around on the deck of a ship. He tried to distract his mind, but the word "embarassment" would not go away. The true meaning of the word made itself known to him - being bare assed in front of others, am-bare-ass +ment. No, that probably wasn't it. He closed his gaping mouth and decided to help.

"Do you need-"

"I can do it myself," Brennan said, trying again. He gritted his teeth and managed to get upright, but the strength in his abs failed. He slumped backward into Jesse's arms. He tried to blow off his weakness with bravado. "Hi," he said to the man holding him. "How's it going."

Jesse glanced at the bare latin torso in his arms. He cast an eye down at the precious family jewels on display. Thoughts and images of them being frequently hand polished leapt into his mind. He averted his eyes to the wall. The naturally uncut jewels stared back at him from the mirror.

Brennan tried moving again. "I need up," he said. Jesse grabbed a furred pec and slim waist, and tried to help.

"I can do this," Brennan said. A spasm in his back disagreed. "Or maybe not."

Jesse wanted to do more than he was capable of doing now. He wanted to hold and protect Brennan. He didn't notice the changes in his own body.

"Jesse," Brennan said with difficulty. "Your getting all hard on me."

"Sorry," Jesse said. He relaxed his body back to normal density.

"Forget something, Woody?"

"That's my knee," Jesse said, realizing one part of his anatomy had a mind of it's own, and very firm opinions about Brennan.

"Sharing a bed with three brothers," Brennan said, "I know what a knee in the back feels like. That ain't your knee, brother."

Jesse felt so embarassed he wanted to blend into the wallpaper. Brennan felt the body supporting him vanish. "Jess," he yelled. His head hit the carpeted floor with a thud. Jesse cringed, stepped out of his friend's torso, and re-solidified. Brennan rubbed the back of his bruised head. "I guess I deserved that," he said.

"Let me," Jesse said, offering a hand.

Brennan ignored it, and sat up with difficulty. "I got it," he said. "Just needed to catch my breath." He got to his knees and tried
to stand, his face red with strain, but teetered face forward into Jesse's arms.

Jesse was getting tired of the brave, independent soldier act. He knew he needed to get Brennan to the examination room as soon as possible. "It wouldn't bother Adam," he said. "But Emma probably shouldn't see you dressed like this."

Brennan gestured at the reflection of himself and Jesse in the mirror. "With pants down and some guy holding me. Yeah, she would probably be jealous."

Jesse sneezed out a laugh.

Footsteps and a familiar voice interrupted the two men. "Brennan," Adam said. "Do you need assistance?"

"I'm on it," Jesse said. "But his stubborn streak is showing."

Adam launched into enterprising family proverb #NX-01. "Knowing when to ask for assistance, is sign of strength, Mr. Mulwray. We are all here for you, if and when you need us. Never be afraid to ask. I assure you, Jesse wouldn't be there with you if he was not genuinely concerned with your well-being."

Brennan couldn't resist the tease. "Woody, here just showed me how firm he can be."

Jesse went pale.

Adam furrowed his brow. Woody? What an odd nickname. Possibly slang. Maybe Shalimar or Emma would know. Regardless, it seems Brennan is acclimating nicely to his new familial environment. Pseudo sibling nicknaming. A good sign. Adam smiled.

"Things are all settled then," he said. I will be expecting you in the examination room shortly, Brennan. It is imperative we determine the extent and magnitude of your injuries."

Adam's footsteps receded. A pissed Jesse curled the corner of his mouth. Woody? I can't believe he called me that in front of Adam. Maybe Adam didn't notice. Academics don't get most jokes. But what if he mentions it to Shalimar or Emma? That was it. Brennan is getting dressed whether he wants a helping hand or not.

"What do you say," Jesse said.

Brennan eyed his bare butt in the mirror. "I say I have a nice well-rounded stubborn streak. Been working out. Can't you tell?"

Jesse was not amused. "Or, should I remind Adam you haven't had the first of your twice yearly physicals yet. It's me or the icy-cold gloved finger. The second choice is a real pain in the you know where. Kind of like you right now."

Brennan considered both options. "Who's finger is it," he said.

Jesse slapped both hands on Brennan's furry cheeks and yanked him closer. He ran his thumbs along the waistline of the black spandex shorts, stretched them out, and pulled them up a section at a time over the bare bum. The head resting on Jesse's shoulder remained silent the entire time. He felt only the strained rhythm of warm breathing, and the prickle of five o'clock shadow against the side of his neck.

"And don't think I'm enjoying this," he said, "because I'm not.

Brennan knew Jesse was lying. Why else would he have said it in the first place?

Jesse squeezed his hands between his and Brennan's body, searching for the hidden spanish treasurebox. He cupped it in his hand and situated it inside the form-fitting fabric. Brennan couldn't resist any longer. "I don't usually let someone touch me like that before the second date." Jesse said nothing. Brennan waited until Jesse finished before launching a cruel tease. "Wait," he said. "Need adjustment."

"You don't mean...," Jesse said. He felt Brennan's head nod. Pin stabbings of stubble went through his shirt into the soft flesh of
his shoulder. He dropped his forehead onto his friend's tanned shoulder. "Which side?"

"I'm right handed," Brennan said.

Jesse plunged his hand down the front of Brennan's shorts. He guided it through a dense jungle of short and curlies to the warm satin of Brennan's intact manhood. He caged the friendly trouser snake between his fingers and pulled it by it's snaky soft skin first to one side, then the other side. Jesse succombed to the hypnotic, mind-numbing allure of the mythical one-eyed trouser snake. He gripped it harder, moved it around, lessened his hold, but still the little snake would not release him. The awful truth coiled up and bit him - men think the snake has power over them, if they only knew the awesome power it granted them over other men. The wielder of the snake spoke, breaking the spell over his willing victim.

"The right side," Brennan said.

"Right," Jesse said." The right side." He was still not himself when he pulled his hand from Brennan's nether regions. Brennan leaned against the mirror and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to look his best. Jesse scratched at his own upper lip. He could smell the faint scent of the latin forest primeval on his hand. He instinctively wiped his nose and upper lip, breathing deeply of the tasty aroma of his partner's soft taco with spicy cheese. Jesse glanced at the mirror and saw Brennan grinning back at him.

"We ready," Brennan asked.

"Let's do it," Jesse said. He gave Brennan a shoulder to lean on, and guided him out of the changing room. The tiled stone floor of the hallway was cold to the touch.

"Woody. Jess. Jesse. Another favor?"

"Like what," Jesse said defensively.

"Number one."

"Number one," Jesse asked, the last remnants of the snake's spell still lingering on his mind and his upper lip.

"I'm walking barefoot on a cold floor, with almost no clothes on."

"Oh. Right." Jesse steered his friend towards the bathrooms.

"You know you might have to..."

"Yeah," Jesse said, grumbling. It seemed another round with the trouser snake was on the horizon.

"And this time," Brennan said. "Try not to massage it so much. It breaks my concentration, if you know what I mean."

******

Jesse turned the corner to the examination room, and saw Shalimar having a serious discussion with Brennan. Her expression softened when she saw Jesse. She left the room without saying a word.

"What was that about," Jesse asked, walking over to the sitting Brennan.

Sweat beaded on his tired face. "She was concerned," he said.

A confused Jesse stared at the doorway where Shalimar had just left. He turned to Brennan, but didn't press the issue. He rested a hand on the chair, near his friend's head. "How are you doing," he asked.

"Hurting," Brennan said, trying to smile. "Even laughing hurts."

Jesse put his hand on Brennan's shoulder. His friend shrunk away from the touch, like a snail recoiling from salt. Jesse pulled his hand away.

"Jesse. About earlier. Don't take my joking around serious."

Jesse could already hear the "just friends" plea about to rear its' ugly head. Straight guys seemed to use the excuse almost as much as women did. He veiled what he felt. "I thought you were just being Brennan Mulwray."

Brennan heard between the words. Jesse thought he was a jerk, and he probably deserved the harsh words. He definitely would after he finished saying what he had to say. "MutantX is growing on me, but I don't want to jinx it and wear out my welcome."

Jesse wasn't letting him off that easy. Maximum discomfort for Sparky was now the goal. "What are you saying?"

"Shalimar told me," Brennan said. "I don't want you to get the wrong idea about me."

Jesse could feel the blood draining from his face. "Not a problem," he said, his words void of any emotion. He buried his anger deep inside, the way he always did.

Brennan knew Jesse was lying. Going out of your way to say there isn't a problem almost always means there is. He avoided any further conversation by pretending to doze off. He could use the shuteye anyway. He felt like hell.

******

Jesse watched from a distance as Adam put the dying Brennan into stasis. Despite what Brennan had said to him, Jesse couldn't deny what he was beginning to feel for his friend. He stayed after the others had left. He felt it was his duty to Brennan. He heard footsteps approaching, breaking the deathly silence of the exaimination room.

"Adam says he still has a chance," Shalimar said. "If we can get hold of the reversal codes for the Pushka."

Jesse leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, never letting his eyes veer away from Brennan's unmoving form. "What did you tell him?"

"Adam?"

"Brennan," he said, anger cresting in his words. "You told him didn't you?"

"I told him we're doing everything we can to help him."

"I mean about me."

Her tone changed. "I told him I'm very protective of my friends. When someone hurts them, I take it personally."

"Why do you do this," Jesse said, turning to confront her face to face. "Why do you keep intruding on my private life? You're not some kind of... mother-protector."

She met his red-faced words with an inhuman air of composure, like a predator lying silent, waiting for that first sign of weakness to lunge forward and attack. "And what happened the last time," she said. "A pretty face used and dumped you. It took you weeks to get your abilities under control again."

Jesse fumed.

She pushed the hair away from her face. "Listen, Jesse. I know you've lead a sheltered life until you joined MutantX, but you can't keep putting yourself in situations like this. You can't go through life staying emotionally isolated and then throwing yourself at every attractive face you see - especially a co-worker. It's dangerous for you, and dangerous for us."

Red waves of light played across his body, as his determination to stand firm manifested itself through his abilities. He was not going to budge on this matter.

Shalimar chewed on the side of her lip. She walked over to Jesse and tapped him on the shoulder. Clink. Clink.

"Guess I'm talking to a brick wall," she said. "Fine. Your right. I am being too protective - that's the Feral side. It also comes with something called unconditional acceptance of family. You really want this?"

Jesse's body density returned to that of normal flesh and blood.

Shalimar posed with crossed arms. "I guess our last mission is still on my mind," she said. "Eight new mutants, people just like us, captured. And Genemex doing God only knows what to them right now. I don't like seeing people get hurt when I can do something about it."

"I have to live my own life," he said.

"You've got to do what you do, Woody." She smiled knowingly and left the room.

Jesse frowned. Now everyone knew.

*****

"You going to stand there all day," a groggy Brennan asked.

Jesse hid his concern behind a thin smile and sharp retort. "Still sleeping on the job, I see." Brennan grinned.

The reversal codes for the Pushka, obtained by Jesse, had saved the dying Brennan's life. The damaging effects of the weapon had caused Brennan's DNA to destabilize, resulting in a prolonged and excruciating death, and ultimately would have caused all the cells of his body to disintegrate into a liquid ooze. Jesse's risky undercover work with the two rogues had averted that fate, and given Brennan another chance at life.

Jesse pulled a chair across the examination room, and sat next to his weakened partner. Concern showed through his focused
facade. "Better," he asked.

"Better," Brennan replied.

"Can we talk?"

Brennan cracked a weak smile, and gestured stiffly with his hands. "I'm not going anywhere."

Jesse leaned closer. "Shalimar and I talked about you, and we came to an understanding."

"So, she's not going to eat the screaming flesh off my face?"

Jesse suppressed a grin. "Oddly enough, that subject didn't come up."

"Oops," Brennan said, an all too brief glimpse of vulnerability showing in his dark eyes.

Jesse's repressed anger at his partner had already faded. He placed a hand on Brennan's firm, tattooed bicep. "Don't worry," he said. "Your Brennan Mulwray. You do what you want to anyway."

"Damn straight," Brennan said. He glanced at the thumb rubbing the side of his upper arm.

Jesse pulled his hand away, and sat back in the chair. The two words Brennan had just uttered echoed in his mind, nagging at him. Maybe Brennan was a damn straight. He looked around the room, trying to think of something else to talk about. Something that would get his friend's mind off of the lingering touch.

"Adam says you'll be up and around by tomorrow," he said, blurting it out louder than he should have.

"Good," Brennan said. "This chair wasn't made to be slept in. I can't feel my butt anymore."

Jesse responded with wide-eyed silence. He hoped that Brennan didn't need a helping hand with that, like he did before in the changing room putting on the spandex shorts, or the number one in the bathroom. Holding his partner's manhood during a whizz was a melange of emotion, running the gamut between carnal temptation to have sex with Brennan then and there on the cold bathroom tile, and dire embarassment if any or all of his own anatomy decided to get all hard of it's own volition. Jesse considered it a miracle he wasn't shackled with the nickname of "Woody" for life after enduring that. Fingers tapped and lingered on his forearm, jolting him back to reality.

"Whatcha thinking," a curious Brennan asked. Jesse shugged. Nothing? That didn't seem right, Brennan thought. Not with the way he got all wide-eyed when I mentioned my butt was... Oh, right. Earlier. Man, I'm going to pull some serious roasting from The Big Guy Upstairs. Probably shouldn't have played it that far. Having him to shake the dew too. Maybe that was too much. Brennan rubbed his stubbly chin.

"I heard you were the one who got hold of the codes," he said.

"It took some work," Jesse said, "but I got Yuri to tell me."

"I never liked undercover work," Brennan said, shifting his weight in the chair. "Too hard to live a lie 24/7, my friend."

"And leaves a bad taste in your mouth."

Brennan nodded. He lifted an arm and rested his head on it. "That russian stuff is way too strong, and hard to swallow."

Jesse raised an eyebrow. "You're taking about vodka, aren't you?"

"No," Brennan said, grinning.

"Me either," Jesse said, mirroring the grin.

The loud scent of stress and duress wafted by Jesse's nose. "When you're up to it, you might need to freshen up," he said. Brennan tilted his head and took a whiff of his exposed underarm. He couldn't smell anything, not himself, Jesse, or anything else in the examination room. Hopefully the loss of his sense of smell was only temporary. He glanced at Jesse, and lowered his arm.

Jesse answered his beeping communcator ring. It was Adam, who reminded him that they still needed to retrieve the plans for the Pushka, and that time was of the essence.

"I'll stop by later," Jesse said, tapping Brennan's furry pec with the back of his hand.

Brennan pointed his hand like a gun at Jesse, made a popping sound with his tongue, and nodded. He called out before Jesse reached the door. "Jess, don't forget you owe me."

"Owe you," Jesse said, furrowing his brow. "For what?"

"The helping hand. Two dates and I'll call it even."

Jesse couldn't believe what he had just heard. Tease, then dump, then tease again. That seemed to be Brennan's m.o. of choice. He rolled the words around in his mind, and said them out loud. "I owe you?"

"Bingo, Woody."

******

Police sirens greeted Adam's pronouncement to the members of MutantX as though on cue.

Sasha and Yuri had run out of options. Their own countrymen shunned them because of the stain of failure. Sasha had inherited it from her father. Yuri's sin was failure by association. Any passing interest in the two russians by Genemex ceased when news of the disasterous turnarounds of the past few hours reached the ears of Andy Warhol's evil twin, Mason Eckhart. Alone and with no safe haven to turn to, they ran from, as Adam had said, the only group still genuinely interested in them - The Immmigration and Naturalization Service.

Brennan walked across the interior of the dusty, abandoned warehouse and eyed the shelf of stolen computers and test equipment a dozen feet in front of him. Most of his strength had returned, but his electrical abilities required more time to regenerate then ordinary flesh and bone. The team was behind him, literally and figuratively. They knew he would be alright in a day or two, but he needed to prove to them that he was alright.

He pulled his arms close to his chest, one above the other, with palms facing. He concentrated on flexing all his muscles as much as possible. He felt the trickle of voltage begin coursing through the muscles, building and growing inside him. He tensed his forearms to channel the cascade of energy outward through his hands. But all his efforts produced was a small flicker of electricity, which jumped from one hand to the other and vanished. He mouthed a silent obscenity to himself, and looked back at the members of MutantX.

Encouragement showed on all their faces, except for one. Jesse stood behind the other members wearing only a sly grin. The blurry, colorful haze surrounding his nude body coalesced back into clothing.

Brennan wasn't sure if what he saw had really happened. Undaunted, he used the extra rush of adrenalin, endorphins, and hormones to maximum effect in his second attempt. Destructive bolts of high energy surged from his hands, snaking across the distance to Sasha's stolen equipment in an instant, frying the sensitive electronic circuits, and sending explosive sparks eveywhere. The plans for the Pushka were destroyed. The weapon and it's built-in mutant detector would never again cast a fearful shadow over new mutants.

The team left amid a shower of sparks from the dying computers, oscilloscopes and other test equipment. Pats on the shoulder from the others greeted Brennan back into the MutantX fold. Brennan lagged behind and steered close to Jesse.

"Better," Brennan asked, pulling the black leather jacket off one shoulder, and lifting up the arm part way. Jesse's nose cautiously followed the scented trail of Eau de Homo cologne and Dial soap to its' source. In an instant, Brennan's softly calloused hands grabbed Jesse's face. Heated kisses of intense passion scorched Jesse's starved lips.

"Nervermind," a miffed Brennan said, lowering his arm and adjusting his jacket. His sense of smell had returned, but he still wanted a second opinion from the one guy honest enough to tell him he needed a shower. The angry frown faded from his face.

Jesse stared as Brennan walked away from him. He quickly caught up to his friend. "Did you just do that," he said, gesturing
nervously. "The what that happened back there."

"I just asked if I smelled OK," Brennan said.

"So you didn't..." Jesse said.

"Problem, boys," Emma asked. She cast a mischievious smile in their direction, and followed the rest of the group through the warehouse's side exit.

Jesse realized the torrid kiss was a fake memory supplied by Emma. He strangled the air in front of him. "Ohhh, that little witch," he said through clenched teeth.

"Did I just miss something," Brennan asked.

"Don't believe everything you see when she's around."

Brennan nodded even though he had no idea what Jesse was talking about. "Speaking of seeing," he said while keeping pace with Jesse's walk. "Did you do what I think you did back there."

"What do you think I did," Jesse asked suspiciously, wondering what fantasy vision Emma might have given Brennan.

"You know," Brennan said, "Back there when I was building up a charge."

"Like I said, don't believe everything you see when she's around."

"Oh, I believe," Brennan said with a sly ear to ear grin. "I believe I saw EVERYTHING. You did do it, didn't you, Woody?"

Jesse now had two things in his life he could truly hate and carry as his own albatross around the neck: Emma's little prank, and that damned nickname. Two dates and we're even. I don't think so, Sparky. You just blew that by calling me that stupid nickname again. Torture yourself with whatever vision Emma put into your head. Now we'll be even, he thought. The corner of his mouth curled in annoyance, and he gave a lifeless, matter of fact response. "Must be wishful thinking, Sparky. Seeing what you wanted to see in your weakened condition."

Brennan stopped. "I know I saw this. I think. Didn't I? You just call me Sparky? I like it."

Jesse rolled his eyes. What were the odds he would hit upon the one nickname Brennan would actually like. "Forget it," he said.

"No way I can forget what I saw," Brennan said.

"You must be forgetting," Jesse said. "In the changing room... Third base. Woohoo. I've seen the lay of the land, my friend, and don't expect tourism anytime soon."

Brennan nudged Jesse. "Maybe all you need is a personal guided tour by a friendly local. See the sites. Ride the rides. You do know how to ride the rides, don't you?"

Jesse shook his head in disgust and walked off. Brennan caught up with him. Shoulder to shoulder they walked to the warehouse exit.

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Created on ... April 29, 2003