inbox - italics: currently working on

Persy absolutely, unequivocally despised Logan fucking Howlett.

To be honest, it's not like she wanted to hate the man. She didn't want to hate anyone – she had more important shit to do. But Logan? Oh, man. He was a hard fucking man to like, she knew that much.

Before Logan, she was content. Fulfilled, even. She had her place in life, and it was at Xavier's training students - and, most notably, with the X-Men. Whenever a problem arose, whenever Charles needed to send out a full team – there was a specific team he would send. Persy, Scott, Jean, and Storm. It was essential that she was a part of the team – she was their close-combat specialist, after all. Scott had range, Storm could control as crowd as easy as breathing, and Jean was fantastic for any kind of stealth work or trickery. But Persy – Persy was the heavy hitter.

Her mutation, after all, enhanced her endurance. She was just a little faster than others, a bit stronger - but her real talent was that she never quit. Her heart rate never rose, her muscles never ached - so long as she was properly fueled, she just kept going.

Plus, her mutation was perfect for combat. Absolutely perfect, conventionally suited to it. And she loved combat. By nature of her mutation, she loved anything physical - turns out, when someone’s body doesn't ache and their lungs don't burn, things like running, climbing, jumping? They're unbelievably fun. It's why Charles assigned her to most of the students' physical education classes - her positive attitude towards those sorts of things was infectious. While it took her a while to understand that the kids needed breaks (oops), she was knowledgeable, supportive, and she always enjoyed it when her students tried new things. Facilitating hand-to-hand sparring matches, encouraging kids to nag at Charles until he bought equipment for whatever new sport they wanted to try that month – she loved it.

But by far, her favorite physical activity was combat. Persy loved martial arts with her whole heart - she studied multiple, and not just to assist her in her duties as a member of the X-Men. It was because of the artistry, the diversity of it all. Each form she learned was like a dance, and each opponent she fought was a new challenge. She thought it was almost like a puzzle – picking apart the different techniques and moves an opponent fell back on, wearing them down until she could predict their next movements and finally go in for the kill. It meant that despite her enhanced longevity in the ring, she still had to put all her effort into her fight. She had enhanced endurance, not enhanced healing capabilities. While her muscles were able to accommodate the massive strain she put on them, her heart and lungs were inhumanly strong and infallible – a swift punch to the nose could still break it. It wasn't like distance running, or biking, or even some team sports, where she always felt that she carried the rest of her squad on her back - this was a challenge, for her.

Which is why Logan pissed Persy off, when he took her spot on the team. Why she gnashed her teeth and avoided him like a bad smell in the mansion. Because he didn’t just take her spot – he took her fucking livelihood.

But she was getting ahead of herself. That wasn't his first offense. Not even close.

His first offense came with Jean Grey.

"He what?" Persy scoffed, damn near spitting out her sandwich. Jean picked at her salad noncommittally, twirling her fork in the crook of her hand.

"It wasn't anything serious," Jean tried to downplay it, but she was having none of it. "He was just flirting-"

"Just flirting?" Persy raised an eyebrow as if Jean had grown a second head. "Jean - you have a boyfriend. Does he know that? Do you know that?"

"I know, I know," Jean sighed. "That's why I turned him down. It didn't go anywhere."

Jean stabbed at a cherry tomato. Persy didn't believe her.

"But you wanted it to go somewhere."

It wasn't so much a question as it was a statement. She'd never seen Jean so flustered over a man - except for Scott, that was. She'd seen that look on her face when Scott had gifted her something thoughtful, or when he'd told her something especially heartfelt. She still remembered how Jean would blush and hide her face in her hands when Scott would write her sweet notes.

And here she was, cheeks pink over some man that had literally attacked her. He'd been disoriented and scared, of course, and she didn't blame him for lashing out, since he didn't actually hurt Jean - but the fact that she was fluttering her lashes about the whole thing left a bad taste in Persy’s mouth. It was none of her business what happened in her relationship with Scott, but still. Those two had been an item for god knows how long. They worked well together. Jean seemed genuinely happy. And she was gonna - what? Throw it all away for some new guy? What was so great about him?

"He-" Jean chuckled softly, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. "You wouldn't understand..."

"Try me," Persy cut in, doing her best not to frown. It was true - she didn't have much experience in long-term relationships. She wanted something like what Scott and Jean had, but - well. It never really worked out for her.

With men, she was intimidating. Her mutation affected her ability to continue exercising past the point of typical human exertion, but it didn’t stunt her muscle growth. She was – as some of the kids said – jacked. It wasn’t like she had the stature of a bodybuilder – no. She just had broader shoulders from boxing, thicker thighs from Tae Kwon Do, and a firm core from Judo. But she also needed fuel to burn as she exercised, so her muscles were padded – she liked to joke that she looked like a farm boy.

But – men didn’t seem to like that. The vast majority of them just hit on other girls, ignoring her. And that was fine. Honestly, she commended them, for knowing what they were into. The real problem were the ones that saw her as some kind of conquest. A mountain to be climbed, despite the fact that she was of average female height, at 5’3”. No – these men would approach her with a smile – the human ones asking if she worked out, what her routine was, where she hiked. They thought they could somehow take those athletic achievements and overshadow her with their own, fuck her into some lesser version of herself. They were never very satisfied when they failed. And mutant men, well – they always zeroed in on her mutation. Endless endurance was a fantastic mutation for sex, and they always thought that they would be the one to take full advantage of it – that they would have the magical mutation that matched her own, and could finally tire her out. It was idiotic. She could keep going all night, that didn’t mean she wanted to. And most of them weird mediocre in bed at best – with the remaining turning out to be forgettable or downright disappointing.

Persy had better luck with women – thought they were few and far between. And while she didn’t have the same issues with conquest or emasculation, that’s when a more pressing problem reared its ugly head:

She was basically married to her work, at this point. She focused on training the next generation of X-Men and protecting them from harm. That was her calling. Her mutation wasn't good for much else other than running and fighting. This is all Persy could do. And she made it very clear to whoever she took to bed that they would always come second to those kids, that Persy wasn’t going to somehow hang up the suit and settle down. For some reason, even to other mutants, that was a tough sell. Maybe it also had to do with how stubborn Persy was – and how dangerous her job could be. She was always showing up with bumps and bruises and lacerations. At least one girlfriend broke up with her in tears, saying that she wouldn’t be with someone who’d end up killing herself before her thirtieth birthday.

But it still hurt, when Jean brought it up. At least she had the decency to wince, after her reply. She didn't need to read Persy’s mind to know that she'd struck a nerve.

"Sorry," she apologized, sighing. "You're just - incredibly devoted, you know? Steadfast. If you want something, you do it, and if you don't want something, you stay away. I don't think I've ever seen you waver on a decision before."

Persy was a bit shocked at her reply. "What would that have to do with any of this?"

"Because Logan-" Jean sighed, taking a sip of her drink as she sat with her thoughts, collecting them into words. "-he's not a logical choice. He's not even - an option, really. He's a temptation. A desire. I can't act on it - I won't, but..."

Jean trailed off, levitating her fork to pick at her salad as she clutched her drink. Persy stifled a chuckle at the little nervous use of her powers.

"He's an attractive man, you know?"

Persy shrugged. "I still haven't met the guy."

She hadn't, but she doubted he looked that much different than any other man that passed through the mansion. Of course - unless he was green, or orange, or had a tail or something. But she kind of assumed Jean would have mentioned something like that.

And even if he was attractive – so what? Persy had dealt with attractive men before. Hell – there had been more than a few very, very tempting men she’d seen pass through either Xavier’s, or the surrounding bar scene. But the fact of the matter was, Persy managed to lock that temptation away behind a very thick mental lock. She could respect a man’s physique, maybe oogle him a bit for good measure – but she put a stop to that childish bullshit before she reached whatever level Jean had sunk to.

And to top that off – Jean was in a relationship. She wasn’t touch starved like Persy was, wasn’t at least two years out from any meaningful relationship. She had a loving boyfriend – who wasn’t Persy’s type, but was still very conventionally attractive. He was sweet, and kind, and attentive. Persy had no idea why Jean would risk that for some other dude. No matter how hot he was.

"Mm," Jean hummed around a bite of her food. "You'd get it if you saw him. Even Storm thinks he's... cute."

"Cute," Persy scoffed it, stuffing the last of her sandwich into her face. She almost laughed at Jean. Cute. Images of boybands and romantic comedy stars swam in her mind. Men with soft, fluffy hair - sweet little smiles and long eyelashes. Lanky arms, toned with the barest of muscle so that they might be able to hold some petite little thing in their arms, spin her around and dip her into a soft kiss. Gentle romantic gestures and kind words. Kid shit. Persy tried not to smirk at Jean for falling for that bullshit.