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scott-the-red-blog · 10 years
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Learn to Fly with Scott, Cassie, Taryn, April, Jean, Laura, Bruce, Remy, Wanda
It was an early morning, but Scott was always awake by 6, ready by 7, and could even fit a morning jog and breakfast in the mansion somewhere between 7 and 8 before the staff kitchen was flooded with people. Today, however, his class on flying started a 9. On a Saturday, no less, and it was something he was actually quite eager about, though his trepidation for flying was something he hid from everyone due to the plane crash he experienced all those years ago. But, besides that, waiting for he fellow friends, mutants, heroes, and other alike was exciting upon itself. He was ready to teach a willing class about the very basics of the Blackbird, and even take a spin about New York. He led his group to the blackbird in the very large under basement of the mansion and prepared the stairs to climb aboard the plane. "Don't touch anything." He said repeatedly, gesturing for everyone to get inside. "And sit in a seat you'll be comfortable in while we take off."
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scott-the-red-blog · 10 years
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Mystique, stop pushing the buttons. We are most certainly handling ourselves just perfectly, thanks. We're not all leaders, I for one know that. I'm the leader, everyone else sets better examples for the students here. It's a hierarchy process. Now, if you don't mind, I'm off for a danger room session, teaching students how to defend themselves in case someone like you decides to attack our school.
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Oh just wait a while… You can’t handle yourselves, as much as you like to think you can. You all see yourselves as leaders, always trying to prove you’re better than your fellow. It always happens. And we know how that turns out.
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scott-the-red-blog · 10 years
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"Okay." He repeated back, granted with less syllables being dragged out. He shook his head, and asked, "Anything else you'd like to comment about?"
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Are you really the best person to be giving flying lessons?
Excuse you Jean-Paul? I’m more than perfectly capable of giving flying lessons, especially in the very aircraft I’ve been piloting for over 15 years. 
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scott-the-red-blog · 10 years
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He stared at her from across the small way that stood between them. If he were being completely and totally honest, he didn't know why he was here. Scott was obviously never one to share feelings, and even if the person he opened to most was the one asking the questions, he still felt a bit... well, a bit weird about it all. He wasn't the touchy-feelsy type of guy and anybody who knew him, knew that about him.
So, as he continued in the silence of the room, he shook his head a bit and then said, "Jean... I wanted to support you in your community week. I'm fine. The past is the past, let's leave it at that." He said with a slight smirk rising. He had always been the one to avoid the conversations about his parents and the plane crash, along with the coma he was in and the brain damage that was brought upon him because of it. 
Psychological Therapy - With Jean Grey.
Jean checked her watch and noticed that it was twelve which meant that Scott would be getting ready to make his way down the hall and up the stairs, he’d have to get through the lunch rush, but as it was the volume of staff to children was already off by a ratio that had the children winning. He’d be right on time, he always was, so she wasn’t worried. What she was worried about was the content of their session together. Jean had known Scott a long time, and there were some things he wouldn’t even tell her so she ws resolved in the fact that she was goingto push his boundaries a little bit today. He needed to get some things off his chest, and she was the only person he’d trust to tell.
Jean paused by the mirror and fixed her hair, she pulled her fringe out of the band that held it all back, she wanted him to be comfortable, that was important, she couldn’t be looking like she was a doctor, he’d tense up as soon as he saw that so she took off her glasses and added a swipe of chapstick incase her lips got dry, waiting for Scott to talk would be like watching paint dry.
The door behind Jean opened and she saw his smile first. She matched it with one of her own, brilliant and white and something made only for Scott. Smoothing her skirt down Jean took a few steps closer and leaned in to kiss his cheek. Her fingers traced the dimple in his chin and she nodded.
"Good, it’s going good. So get comfortable, Mister Summers. You and I have a lot of talking to do. Why don’t you tell me why you’re here."
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scott-the-red-blog · 10 years
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As soon as ideas came flooding through he nodded at them; Hank's being the most vital. He was going to begin giving orders, just like old times, but then a Sentinel came crashing through the office. Suddenly dissipating through them, Scott felt Kitty's arm grab a hold of them, just in time. However, he didn't have anytime to thank her when there were children that needed to be saved, and immediately. If the mutant killing machines were already here, they had little to no time to waste.
And that's when Scott jumped back into the action. "We need you to get the machinery Jean, as soon as you can. Go along with Hank, NOW!" He ordered straightaway. She could easily levitate the EMP to the area they needed them at, and in the meantime, Scott knew what he and Kitty could do. "Kitty can short circuit them with a toss by me, and I can stop them heading our way. At least to give you a spare minute." He huffed, looking around at the people who had become his friends over a lifetime at the mansion. "There's no time to lose. There are children here!" He finished strongly before looking to Kitty once more. "We need to get to the front line, before they crash through any other areas." 
Does This Mean War? || Kitty, Jean, Scott, and Hank
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scott-the-red-blog · 10 years
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Scott wasn't the most likely to volunteer himself for such an event, but he thought he might as well get back into the community, and on the good side of the civilians that would surely read about the whole thing itself. It was a publicity stunt for himself too, just how Loki seemed to be forced to do it so that he could show off his less evil and likely to conquer the world side.
As he held his own trash bag in one hand, and a stick to pick the garbage up with, he lifted a brow in Remy's direction. "Yeah." He gruffly said, something that he often did with the fellow that got on his nerves all too much. It was more like a game to Remy, or that's what it seemed like to Scott, and he could see right through it, but really had no other response. "I can't imagine how many times you've done something like this before." He said, taking a jab at the man's past record. He eyed all the other participants from behind the ruby quartz glasses and shook his head, trying to remind himself that he was here for the good of everyone, and he didn't need to be so selfish about it wasting his time.
When the villainous man gave his little "satisfying" speech, Scott also realized that he was here on the behalf of making sure Loki wouldn't get out of hand either. It was a legitimate concern he had. Then, he felt the presence of a girl behind him, and he turned ever so slightly to get a quick glance. His concern increased when she came around and began to speak. "Uhmmm." He confusedly said, looking back to Remy once more. "You don't have to talk, at all. Or whatever, like Remy said" He was more confused than anything. 
The Art of Absolution || Loki, Jamie, Taryn, Remy, Scott, Harry
Loki grimaced as the sand crunched under his boots. Though he had opted to dress in somewhat less than his usual finery, the Midgardian garments he had chosen—dark green shirt, black trousers and boots—were still not quite suited to the tasks he was being ordered to perform. Of course, he was not planning on truly performing any of them, yet he still needed to go along on this whole little jaunt, and he was not relishing any dirtying of his clothes which would inevitably occur.
Community service, he thought angrily as he glared out across the water, watching the waves crash against the beach. What was he, an ordinary hooligan to be slapped on the wrist and told to be good next time? This whole affair was a horrible affront to his status. Spurn his true race though he might, he was still of royal blood and bearing, and was far above such menial tasks. At least it had been decreed that he could have assistance, and fortunately several others had offered their services. Surely they were doing so out of noble intentions, hoping to better their worthless little realm. Which they would be doing, but at the same time, they would also be sparing him the need to perform the bulk of the labor. Loki smiled to himself. Even during his punishment he could still get others to do his dirty work, and that pleased him enough to carry on with the charade.
"Welcome, my fellow charity workers," he said, turning to address the group assembled behind him, "I’m glad you have decided to join me in helping to make a difference in your Midgardian community." Putting on a pained face, he put his hand on his chest and solemnly intoned, "I am very remorseful for any damage I may have caused during my…mishap…in New York some time ago, and I wish to make reparation in any way I can." He gestured to the beach behind him. "First we are going to make sure that this pristine setting is kept free of refuse. Do you think you are all up to that task?"
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scott-the-red-blog · 10 years
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Before anything else, Scott felt the soft brushes of fingertips graze over his shoulder and he looked up to see the ever dazzling Jean Grey; the woman he adored. As her scent refreshed him and left him wanting more, Scott smirked the tiniest bit, letting his shoulders relax under her and the aroma fill him. She was absolutely stunning in everything she wore, as it hugged her every curve and fit her like a glove.
When she sat, Scott pulled his chair forward a bit, glancing over at her every so often while Remy seemingly tried to impress them all with his card tricks. He paid attention, for the most part, but with Jean distracting him, it was hard to even find any concentration left.
He pulled his own poker chips closer to him at his spot on the table, nodding at Remy and what he was saying. Obviously having read up on his event beforehand, Scott never came unprepared and knew everything he was already mentioning. And then like the game of poker goes, the cards were handed out and Scott slid his over the table to look at them in secret. An eyebrow lifted over the rim of his glasses and he said, "I'll raise the bet." And he slid a small stack of chips into the center of the table, his poker face more than willing to comply with the situation. Or maybe that was just the way he always looked. Either way, he started the game off with his slim lips pursed and his eyes wandering across his opponents. 
All Bets are Off || Remy, Jamie, Scott, Jean
Jean gripped the dazzling clutch in her left hand and ran her tongue along the front of her teeth just incase she had lipstick stains, that wouldn’t look very good on the night she was trying to impress her lover, but she was confident as she strode into the room, the three other men already waiting around the table. The gown that she wore was floor length, thin straps looped around her shoulders and the length of her pale back was bare. Rivulets of crystal gleamed from the lights of the casino floor, the sanguine fabric accentuated her curves and her hair fell into lashings of curls around her neck.
She stopped beside Scott and placed a hand on his shoulder, thefragrance that she would would give her away, vanilla and spice. His favourite, of course, and she’d worn it on purpose because of course distraction was the art of the game.
"Hello gentlemen. It’s lovely to see you all here, you lot scrub up well."
Jean pulled out a chair and eased herself into it, grinning as she did with a flick of her long hair, and then she turned to Scott with a wink and placed her clutch upon the table in front of her. Fingers with nails that were painted a sparkling silver grabbed a handful of chips, poker chips and she placed them in neat little piles of red, green, blue and black. She looked up then, crossed one leg over the other and smiled at their host.
"Remy, I’m all in and ready to play."
Shuffling the cards loosely, Remy grinned at his arrivals. Addressing Jamie first with a sly, knowing grin. “Ah, ami, I came into possession of three little rescue kitties myself, it was only reasonable to pick this charity.” He said, petting his own little white cat, Figaro. The cat swished his tail and purred. The others curled around Jean’s ankle and swatted at Scott’s shoelaces.  Lucifer, on the other hand, stayed close to Jamie. “They’re a lot better company then most people, and I’m told they’re better pets then goats.” At that he shot Scott a look.
“Gentlemen! And lady, of course.” Remy winked at Jean. “Now that we are all here, shall we begin? The latecomers can join in after,” he shrugged, shuffling the deck. The cards danced between his hands, bouncing back and forth. “That’s call the Sybil Cut, pay attention.” He collected them in one hand, bending them ever so slightly to push them into the other hand. He dealt the cards out, flicking them towards each player.
“Now, there are no monetary winnings here. The pot goes to the charity, regardless of who wins. But that does not mean there are no prizes. What host would I be if I gave no reward?” He grinned. “So no fret, you will not leave empty handed. Though, if ya choose to bring a cat home, that’s a prize within itself.”
Everything was perfect, Braddock thought. The only way it could have been better was if they were in a classier casino, a private club perhaps, but that wasn’t going to happen. He enjoyed the arrival of the two X-Men, although in a way, he pitied them. Still, he knew very well how to control his expressions, how to wear one instead of another. With a few glances, he took the two X-Men in.
Scott Summers, Cyclops. The greatest danger from him was his eyes, but there was something to be said for the man’s heart, as well. Scott was one of the heroic sorts, a genuine believer in morality, in the value of righteousness, in order over chaos. Scott was willing to lead and willing to act. He would stand firm for what he believed in, not the sort to be bought. He would also, Jamie noted, look damn good doing it. Of the four of them, Scott looked the most appropriate for the evening. The tuxedo might be old, but it fit him like a glove, and tastefully so. The night had a Bond theme, and Scott walked in and comfortably slipped into that role, whether he knew it or not. He seemed to be here for the woman, which amused Jamie for how appropriate it seemed. He’s not perfect, though, Jamie thought. He may be the 007 of us, but it’s only in relation to the others. There’s a hardness to him, a propensity for… What, grudges? Not to let go of his anger, not to be open-minded enough to believe in others when they compromise his own personal moral code? Scott Summers was an interesting man, and he was certainly the white knight of the bunch. Jamie wondered if killing people ever kept Scott up at night. He then wondered if each of them at this table had killed, and the thought made him smile. It was a dark thought, sweet and bitter as honey, satisfying as wine. 
He looked at Jean next. She was an absolute vision, and he could imagine what a pleasure it would be to walk next to her, or to find oneself in her bed. There seemed to be a distance between her and Scott, something Jean very much wished to close — and he would be surprised if Scott did not seize the opportunity. Her radiance was undeniable. Her hair looked soft as silk, the dress moved around her body with all the sensuality of night, and she smelled heavenly. Her nails were silver and sparkled like gems, her hands graceful as the pulled the chips to herself — she was here to impress Scott, to distract him, and perhaps to improve things between them even while beating him.
An admirable woman, he thought, and filled with red. 
Although Remy’s sly smile made Jamie want to purr, he was careful not to give the man anything in response, other than the very briefest of glances. He took his seat across from Jean and ran his hand over his own chips. Charity, he thought with a smile as the chips clicked, him taking them out of the tray and stacking them aside ,to be used as he saw fit .Robin Hood was a charitable thief. And so shall I be, tonight. Considering the money he was playing with, considering where he had gotten it and what it had required, considering the events this poker game began, the moves that would be set in motion so far down the line that it would never be connected to this night, he was delighted. Thrilled, really. Jamie had had a wonderful hour before the game began, and now he was set to have an equally wonderful evening. 
They were four very beautiful people preparing to play a very beautiful game. The hero, the beauty, the thief, and the madman. Not a pure human among them - they were perfect. 
When Remy gave them the cards, Jamie picked his up with a smile. Although he was smiling at the cards, it was meant for LeBeau, and he suspected the other would know it. He glanced to Scott, whose position at the table granted him the first play, by custom. 
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scott-the-red-blog · 10 years
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The lunch rush of kids flooded the hallways straight at noon, as they all headed to the cafeteria. Scott was usually on duty at the time, but he had other plans today. In support of his lovely girlfriend (he at least hoped they were putting that title on it), he was participating in her Psychological Therapy sessions. Mostly out of consideration and the fact that she would be with him on his own community event, Scott knew that Jean would be nothing more than professional about everything, as she was during the school hours. It was a private session and the door would be closed, and Scott knew that Jean knew a lot about him already. They had a large history together. And for the most part, she was the one of the people he enlisted all of his trust too, beside the Professor, of course.
She had seen his past, either through mental recollection through him, or him just plain telling her about it, and that was for the best, since they were so close. He always had that hard exterior about him, but deep, deep down, Scott had a soft side, and it was especially made for the one and only Jean Grey. 
It was 5 minutes past noon when Scott finally managed to get through the wave of kids after yelling at a few of them for doddering in the hallways when they should be going elsewhere. He headed straight for the office in which the session would be held, and opened the door as soon as he got there to see Jean looking as beautiful as ever. "Jean." He said, his own temper cooling at her sight. The scowling grimace he had on his face suddenly reverted to a soft smile as he entered the room, closing the door behind him and taking a seat on the bench. "How's the therapy going?" He asked, another smile reveling across his face. 
Psychological Therapy - With Jean Grey.
The Jean Grey School. 12:05 pm.
Jean checked her schedule and smiled, she had another appointment today, that meant that she would have leave enough time to allocate to her patient’s concerns. It was going to be a deep exploration of personal thoughts, focusing on self development in the ‘here and now.’
Scott Summers. The heading in her diary was bright and underlined several times. Jean knew Scott better than most, but she also knew that for him, this session would be painful, she hoped to be able to comfort Scott, to be able to divide herself between lover and doctor to explore the issues that might arise from their meeting.
Jean was an old hand when it came to the trappings of the mind, the Professor had helped her to tackle the problems head on, creating a dialogue had helped Jean to work through even the most painful memories, the ones that stuck to her insides and refused to move, but silently haunted her.
The room was free of superfluous distractions and unwarranted stimuli, stripped back to the bare essentials. The climate control was gently warming the room through, the need for comfort overwhelmed Jean. This was all about trust, they had to establish a relationship built within a suppotive environment.
Tapping her stylus against her data pad, Jean waited for Scott to arrive.
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scott-the-red-blog · 10 years
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"Don't. It was a long time ago, and you didn't know. I'm a lot tougher than that." He said with a scowling look. He was tougher than, or at least he looked it, and he was going to act it, but only he knew how he really felt on the topic. "Just mind who you're talking to, some people don't take things too lightly." Ah, that Scott Summers charm.
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Are you really the best person to be giving flying lessons?
Excuse you Jean-Paul? I’m more than perfectly capable of giving flying lessons, especially in the very aircraft I’ve been piloting for over 15 years. 
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scott-the-red-blog · 10 years
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You really have no warrant to be pushing others around Mystique. I'd hate to see what becomes of you.
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He's gone, yes. But, we're perfectly capable of acting on ourselves. All of us. We don't just disband because of it.
Don’t what? Tell you the truth you don’t want to hear? Because i can make up things that will fit into your tragic, fairy-tale reality…
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…Laugh all you want. I don’t see Charles doing his job either. Or did he make the mistake of leaving you alone again?
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scott-the-red-blog · 10 years
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The night was very young when Scott arrived at Resorts World Casino. It was a pretty extravagant place, with high chandeliers and people seemingly catering to your every need. It was top-class, there was no doubt, and Scott was undoubtedly impressed with Remy's event. He let the valet take his car at the entrance, and was led by another worker to where Remy's set-up was, though Scott felt it was probably unnecessary. He only figured that he didn't want to wind up lost, so let the employee guide him to the private area.
Scott wore a severely old tuxedo, but a tuxedo nonetheless, bow tie and all. Black, and form-fitting, he it suited him well, especially for the night's theme, seeing as it was very appropriate. But Scott wasn't here for Remy, or for the theme. He wasn't truly here for the cause either, but it was nice and he could back behind it. No, Scott, was here because he knew Jean would be here and he couldn't let an opportunity like this pass him by.
He approached the two men already talking, as he took a seat at the table and nodded off to both of them. "Gentlemen." He greeted, while the lights above the table glinted off the ruby quartz glasses, and his lips curled into a half smirk.
All Bets are Off || Remy, Jamie, Scott, Jean
One good thing about Remy was that he never did things half-assed.  It was a nice change of pace to be on this side of the table, fingers fanned out on the green table. He had this section of the casino to himself. Not that he expected a big turnout: only three people had signed up. But that was only for today, who knew who else would later join. Of course, two of the three were X-Men – he was even shocked that Scott joined up. But that was probably because of Jean. Not that he cared, the more the merrier. The third name was unfamiliar though. Jamie Braddock.  Where did he hear that name before …?
No matter, Remy had to finish setting up. He actually liked the charity the proceeds were going to. He should, he picked it. Lounging on the table were his own new friends, Oliver, Lucifer, and Figaro. But he also brought others from Anjellicle Cats Rescue: old ones, kittens, ones with missing parts, disabled ones. All up for adoption. He even dressed the cats to fit the theme. His own had shirt collars and bowties, but the adoptees wore sparkly cat dresses and gem studded collars. Hey, they had to dress up too. He had let them loose in a play pen besides the table.
Remy himself was dressed up. His tuxedo was all black, as well as his button down shirt. The vest had red accents to it and so was his bowtie red. He liked matching and black and red were his colors. Even the card deck matched his outfit.  The back of the cards were black with red sparkles coating it.
Of course, what fun would this be if it was just a week of poker? Remy had also promised to teach who ever came how to shuffle like he did, how to throw cards properly, how to make the cards arch above their heads. He even promised tarot readings. There were no real prizes, so that also meant it should be a peaceful game.
“Ah, Vinny. I think we did good.” He grinned at the boy, not even out of high school, he hired to be a butler for the night. The kid stretched the collar of his shirt and nodded. They heard footsteps and Remy looked over. “Ah! Bonjour, ya early!”
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scott-the-red-blog · 10 years
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"No Jean-Paul..." Scott muttered, letting out a small huff. "It was one time. And I wasn't even piloting. I wasn't even old enough to have a driver's license, let alone a pilot's license." He grunted.
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Are you really the best person to be giving flying lessons?
Excuse you Jean-Paul? I’m more than perfectly capable of giving flying lessons, especially in the very aircraft I’ve been piloting for over 15 years. 
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scott-the-red-blog · 10 years
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Yes, and how many times do you think I've been in a plane crash Jean-Paul?
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Are you really the best person to be giving flying lessons?
Excuse you Jean-Paul? I’m more than perfectly capable of giving flying lessons, especially in the very aircraft I’ve been piloting for over 15 years. 
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scott-the-red-blog · 10 years
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Hey Scooter, seeya soon. I'm signing up for ya'class. (Remy)
It’s Scott. And, I’ll put you down Remy. Thanks for signing up.
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scott-the-red-blog · 10 years
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I would like to apply for your flying class.
I’ll mark you down. Thanks for your response. I’ll see you bright and early Saturday morning.
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scott-the-red-blog · 10 years
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Hey Mr. Summers! Mind if I take the jet out for a spin? With your supervision of course!
Cassie! I'd like to see you at my class. I'll be co-piloting, so I don't think you'll have to worry about supervision.
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scott-the-red-blog · 10 years
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"So, what's a girl got to do to get a flying lesson around here,"
"You know, for you, it's on the house." Scott  would have winked if he knew Jean could see his eyes,but instead, he smirked playfully.
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