... Aidan Quinn
Weekends were made for this.
Sinking into the couch, eating ice cream straight from the tub, wearing sweatpants old enough to have their own soul, and feeling absolutely zero guilt.
Perfect peace.
Or well… almost.
On the other end of the couch, Raven was in full goth-goblin mode. Black blanket up to her neck, legs crossed, eyes locked on a shadowy tome that probably came with a spiritual warning label.
Her own quiet, threatening, mysteriously hot little world.
"You gonna eat all that ice cream?" she asked, not looking up from her cursed paragraph.
"Don't worry, my beloved goth. I got two tubs. One for me, and one for when you pretend you don't want any and steal it anyway."
She didn't respond. Just raised an eyebrow — the universal sign for "that's fair."
We were riding that wave of transcendental laziness when the doorbell rang.
Ding-dong.
I blinked. Paused. Pretended it was my imagination.
"You order something?" I asked.
"Nope."
"Then pretend we're dead."
"You're answering it."
"I'm ignoring it."
The bell rang again. Longer this time.
Diiiiiiing-dong.
She sighed and marked her page like she was pausing a dark ritual, then hit me with Death Glare No. 3™.
I couldn't resist.
I dragged myself off the couch — ice cream still in hand — and shuffled to the door. I opened it slowly, expecting, I don't know… a delivery guy, someone from the power company, or the crazy neighbor from 402 asking for salt again.
Nope.
It was a mini-pantheon of beauty and racial tension.
"Well. Look at that…" I muttered, balancing the ice cream on my hip like a sacred weapon. "Premium mutants, party of four."
Standing at my door like they'd just walked out of a dramatic slow-motion entrance scene:
Ororo Munroe. Tall. Ethereal. Dominant. Skin like chocolate, eyes that don't ask for respect — they demand it. White hair that looked like snow and moved like a thunderstorm in slow motion. She was divine power with the vibe of a French cinema goddess.
Kitty Pryde. Small. Agile. Easy smile. That cute schoolgirl-meets-walking-electron energy. The kind of girl who phases through walls and hearts without breaking a sweat.
Jean Grey. Those eyes. That presence. She looked at me like she could see through me — and evaluate the contents. If she wasn't lethal, I'd ask her to look deeper.
And of course, Logan. Arms crossed. Wearing the constant expression of a guy who got dragged here and is pissed about being away from his motorcycle and whiskey.
"Aidan Quinn?" Ororo asked politely.
"Unfortunately."
Jean stepped forward with a small, soft smile. "We're not here as a threat, Aidan."
"Good. 'Cause I'm in sweatpants and have zero social battery for handling threats today."
Kitty laughed under her breath.
Behind me, I heard Raven's soft footsteps coming closer. I didn't need to look to know she'd already scanned every one of them — and calculated thirty-seven different ways to make them all vanish in a vortex of shadows.
"What do they want?" she whispered near my shoulder.
"Courtesy visit. Possibly friendly interrogation. Maybe an unspoken invite to a superpowered student club."
"You letting them in?"
"You gonna stop me?"
"Still deciding."
I turned back to our guests, casual smile in place.
"Wanna come in? We've got a couch, coffee, potential emotional invasions, and a slight chance of leaving cursed. Make yourselves at home."
Logan grunted.
Jean smiled.
Ororo nodded gracefully.
Kitty was already walking in.
And me? I just took another spoonful of ice cream.
Because nothing says "just another weekend" like having four X-Men in your tiny two-bedroom apartment, a shadow-drenched goth girl for a roommate, and a creeping suspicion that life's about to get a whole lot more interesting.
The couch, once a sacred space for laziness and ice cream, had now become the stage for some very informal diplomacy between highly trained mutants… and a guy with a questionable background, psychic firewalls, and a goth girl with multiverse-level shadow powers sitting next to him.
Just another Saturday.
Kitty took the far armchair, pulling a pillow into her lap. Jean and Ororo sat on the couch across from us, and Logan stood against the wall, arms crossed, wearing his classic grumpy face — the one that said he hated being there, or maybe just hated being awake.
Jean was the first to break the ice.
"Nice place", she said with a small smile, glancing around. "It suits you. Chaotic energy… messy vibe."
"Thanks. I like to think it reflects my inner world", I said, then added with a smirk, "You should see the bedroom. But only with permission."
Jean raised an eyebrow. Not surprised. But she didn't look away either.
Point for me.
Kitty chuckled from the side. I turned to her and fired off casually:
"You can check it out too, if you want. Goth tour included."
She shook her head, still smiling, but with that curious glint in her eyes — the kind that says she hasn't decided yet if I'm charmingly dumb or just dumb.
Ororo didn't smile. But she didn't look annoyed either. Just… observant.
Calculating.
"I think it's fair we introduce ourselves, before anything else", she said, with that elegance that made even that feel like royal protocol. "Ororo Munroe", she continued. "Some know me as Storm. Teacher and field leader for the X-Men."
She motioned to the others.
"Jean Grey, telepath and telekinetic."
Jean gave a small nod.
"Kitty Pryde, codename Shadowcat. I can phase through solid matter."
Kitty waved with a friendly grin.
"And Logan. Also known as Wolverine. Advanced healing, heightened senses… and claws."
Logan just grunted. Classic intro, I guess.
I adjusted on the couch, ice cream tub still in hand.
"Aidan Quinn. Codename… still a work in progress. Open to suggestions."
Raven, beside me, sighed softly.
"Raven. No codename." Dry, even though… technically, that is her codename.
Ororo looked straight at her.
"No need for names. We're just trying to understand."
"Understand what?" Raven asked, narrowing her eyes a little.
"Whether you're mutants", Ororo replied, straight to the point. "Or something else. The energy you both displayed during the Battle of New York… caught attention. And concern."
Jean looked at me with a studied kindness.
"Aidan… your powers. Did you know about them before? Are they recent?"
I took another spoonful of ice cream. Looked at the three of them — Jean, Ororo, Kitty. Paused just for dramatic flair.
"Well… I'm good at a lot of things. Stirring the pot, reading the room, raising eyebrows, and when needed… bending space a little. If that makes me a mutant… maybe." I shrugged. "But so far, no one's shown up with an official X-Gene test."
Raven turned her head slightly toward me.
The silent warning was clear: Don't get cocky.
Ororo kept her tone neutral.
"And you, Raven? Your connection to that shadow energy… is it something you control, or something that controls you?"
Raven crossed her arms.
"Depends who's asking."
Kitty spoke up quietly:
"We're just trying to help."
There was a pause.
Then Ororo said:
"We know what it's like to grow up with powers and have no one to talk to. We know what it feels like to be watched, to feel different, alone. That's why we're here with an offer."
She looked at me first, then Raven.
"The Xavier Institute isn't just a school. It's a safe place. To study, train, figure out who you are… and be around others who carry more weight than anyone should have to bear alone."
Jean added:
"You don't have to say yes right now. But… we'd love for you to consider it. Just a visit. Spend a day there. No pressure."
I grinned slowly.
"See, I tend to be suspicious of institutions with long names and shadow funding…"
"It's a school, Aidan", Jean said with a half-smile.
"Exactly. That's the scariest part."
Raven stayed quiet, eyes still on Ororo, analyzing every layer of the invitation.
She didn't reject it.
I could've said no.
Could've said I'd think about it. That I don't trust schools with names that sound like textbook publishers. That Raven would probably find the place "too loud." Or that I just don't like uniforms.
But then I remembered one small, important detail:
The Xavier mansion is basically a waifu hub. Just like Midtown High.
Seriously.
Jean was already hypnotic — those eyes, that sharp mind. Kitty was a walking bundle of charm, energy, and easy smiles. And if this was the level of the frontliners…
Rogue was probably there too.
Rogue.
The woman. The myth. The hurricane with gloves, a Southern accent, and emotional walls like a fortress.
I grew up watching her in every animated version imaginable.
If my subconscious had a secret altar, she'd be on it — wearing gloves, obviously, and telling me not to touch.
So when Ororo wrapped up the invite with that calm, regal voice, and everyone looked at me like they were expecting some kind of deep, philosophical resistance…
"Sure", I said, before anyone could blink. "We're in."
Raven looked at me sideways. That look that said she knew I had an ulterior motive.
Which was unfair.
Because I had at least five ulterior motives.
Ororo gave a gentle smile. Jean smiled like she knew exactly what I was thinking. And Kitty looked genuinely excited.
"We can pick you up tomorrow. Late morning?"
"Bring the full tour", I said. "And if possible… leave the Danger Room unlocked. Always wanted to play in that sandbox."
Logan let out a heavy sigh.
"Kid's way too excited."
"I call it charisma. But thanks."
Raven didn't say a word.
But she didn't stop me either.
Which, from her, was basically a yes.
And me?
Well… I smiled, because I was heading straight into the heart of the X-Men universe.
Rogue, here I come~
…
The door shut with a soft click, and silence crept back into the apartment like it had been waiting outside — arms crossed, rolling its eyes.
I flopped back onto the couch with an overly dramatic sigh, arms stretched out, ice cream on one side, my soul on the other.
Raven was still standing, staring off into nothing with that serene expression of hers — the one that looked like she was zoning out, but was probably scanning every layer of reality at once.
"You're not gonna ask?" I said, tossing a pillow into the air and catching it.
She raised an eyebrow.
"Ask what?"
"Why I said yes to the invite."
She sat down slowly, crossing her legs on the couch, still wrapped in her blanket. A perfect blend of midnight goddess and built-in sarcasm.
"You want me to ask even though I already know the answer?"
"Yup. I want the performance. It's part of our dynamic."
She gave one of those invisible smiles. The kind only someone who lives with her would notice. A tiny curve at the edge of her lips. One less sigh in the air.
"All right then. Why did you say yes, Aidan?"
I let out a deep sigh. Leaned my head back against the couch. Stared at the ceiling like it was a giant whiteboard where I could write all my morally questionable motivations.
"For the waifus."
"Obviously."
"No, I'm serious. I'm being honest here. Jean Grey, Kitty Pryde… and Rogue. Especially Rogue. That woman emotionally wrecked me in every animated version possible. I am the product of trauma wrapped in a Southern accent and leather gloves."
Rogue and Raven. Top five in my heart. The rest? Nico Robin, Yoruichi Shihoin, and Tsunade Senju.
… I think I might have a type.
Raven didn't say anything.
"You saw Jean. Smart, deadly, with that look that could strip away your mental defenses or your clothes — depends on her mood. Kitty's like… that girl who'd laugh at your jokes, but also drag you into a dangerous situation just to see what happens."
Still silent.
"And Rogue is… well, Rogue. That whole untouchable vibe? The kind that makes you wanna sprint across the planet just to hear her say 'you can't touch me' one more time. I would gladly live in emotional suffering just to be in the same room as her."
Raven turned her head slightly toward me.
"You really said yes just for that?"
I shrugged. "I picked you as my Companion for the same kind of reasons."
Raven stayed quiet, listening. I couldn't even tell if she was blushing — if that was even possible for someone with skin that pale.
"And not just that", I added. "There's also the Danger Room. I've always wanted to mess around in there. Looks fun. Kinda deadly, but fun."
She stared at the wall for a second, like she was thinking. Then looked back at me.
"What if it's a trap? A form of control? Part of a bigger plan?"
"Then we improvise", I said, totally calm. "You unleash the shadows, I destroy and steal everything in sight. We work well together."
My second template was still kinda underused. If trouble showed up...
I'd have myself a buffet of mutant powers.
Raven stayed quiet for a few seconds. Then finally said:
"I'm only going because you seem committed."
"Of course I am. I run on two main engines: curiosity and lust. Not necessarily in that order."
She huffed — but not in disgust. In that low-key way only she could pull off.
"And what if she rejects you?"
"I'll politely thank her for the rejection… and try again with a better accent. Maybe with gloves on."
Raven shook her head, almost — almost — smiling for real.
"Idiot."
"Yeah. But I'm your idiot."
And in that moment — with her curled up on the other end of the couch like a grumpy night goddess wrapped in a blanket, and me explaining my selfish motivations like it was some tragic hero monologue…
Everything felt right.
"Hmm… wanna sleep together tonight? Celebrate our progress on the social interaction ladder?"
"No."
Fast. Direct. Cold.
Shut down brutally.
... Maria Hill
Maria Hill was good at her job.
Really good.
She noticed patterns, cross-checked data, predicted behavior. She didn't need to be a telepath to know when something — or someone— didn't fit on the board. And ever since the day of the New York invasion, the assignment Director Fury had given her had been taking up most of her attention.
Aidan Quinn.
His official file listed him as just another high school student from Queens. Average grades. No criminal record. Nothing medically remarkable. A perfectly normal life — until it wasn't.
Hill was watching the footage for the tenth time that morning.
The scene was crystal clear: the kid smiling while the girl hovered behind him like some urban legend with way too much power. The shadows moved with his voice. Enemies vanished into the darkness like they'd never been there. The whole city saw the destruction. But only a few of them noticed the details.
Since then, S.H.I.E.L.D. had been watching.
Cameras in the area near the apartment. Surveillance drones flying regular routes. Microphones set up with surgical precision. Nothing too invasive, of course. He was still a civilian.
But there was something… off.
The girl.
The one always with him.
She never left.
In a full week of observation, Raven — name still unconfirmed — hadn't stepped outside once. No grocery runs. No walks. No effort to make contact, even when undercover agents tried to approach under carefully crafted covers.
She ignored the world.
Except for him.
And he…
He kept acting like nothing was wrong. Going to school. Laughing. Flirting with anything in a skirt — or a uniform.
But something shifted.
Ororo Munroe, codename Storm, showed up with her team. Jean Grey. Kitty Pryde. Logan. Half of them veterans. All mutants. All making direct contact with the subject.
That… sped things up.
Nick Fury wanted answers. And truth be told, so did she.
So Hill did what she did best: took control of the situation.
The decision was simple.
No formal interrogation. No uniforms. No mirrored rooms.
If Aidan Quinn ran on charm, wit, and distraction, she'd play that game.
A dinner.
At a high-end restaurant.
Quietly secured.
Hill picked the place carefully — a discreet front, flawless kitchen, private section, and every waiter, guest, and background musician was a well-armed S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.
Outside? Unmarked vehicles.
Inside? Full surveillance.
She arrived first, as always. Dressed in crisp, professional elegance — dark blazer, hair pinned back, heels clicking with purpose. The kind of presence that radiated authority, even without flashing a badge.
She sat at the reserved table, opened the menu, and waited.
She knew he'd show up.
Because no one says no to Maria Hill.
And because Aidan Quinn, above all else, was curious. A smartass.
Plus… she knew him well enough to know—
He never turned down a date with a pretty woman.