In lieu of college or teaching at the institute, Sam Adrien offers Scott Summers an internship upon graduation. Creeping doom raises the hackles on Scott’s neck subconsciously.
He did it. He passed the bar. He was now entitled to enter the cut-throat world of the law. And very possibly defend his fellow mutants against the slings and arrows of outrageous senators who, say, wanted to ban mutants.
Sam Adrien, like many blonds, was going darker in his old age. On him, it looked good. Sort of Perry Mason-ish without the extra waistline.
“Congratulations. But I really have to ask - why law?”
“You know Sara and you ask this question?” countered Scott.
Sam laughed. “Much as I love her… you have a point. ‘Fargnaxing petty legalities’ is a favourite phrase of hers.”
“I heard she’s doing some intern thing at Princeton.”
“No, that was last month. Now she’s teaching hospitals to 'get it right’.”
“Sounds like Sara,” Scott shook his head. Sara the unstoppable, fixing one problem that nobody knew was there at a time. “But you didn’t come to my graduation just to catch up.”
“Right you are. I’m head-hunting.”
Scott automatically looked to the valedictorian. “Sam the younger, over there, top of the class in all things.”
“Not quite. I’m head-hunting you.”
“Me? But I’m strictly in the middle. I fully expect to be an unpaid intern until I figure out how to distinguish myself in some nowhere law firm somewhere.”
“Thanks a lot,” Sam deadpanned. “No, this will be full employment with assistance. You’re being groomed.”
Scott had the urge to check his ears for parsley. “Um. Why?”
“My firm is an equal opportunity employer and we have to prove it occasionally. Plus we have a reputation for helping mutants.”
Ah. The magic M-word. He did scrub at one ear, but found no vegetation. “Mutants can be good citizens, here’s one we prepared earlier?” he guessed.
“Sara was right, you are smarter than you look,” said Sam.
“Thank-you-I-think,” Scott snarked.
“It’s not just the PR angle,” Sam explained. “Though it is a significant factor. We need a mutant perspective that’s a little bit more…”
“Un-Sara?” Scott prompted.
“Reality based,” said Sam with a nod. “You’ll be working with Glee. She’s brilliant at strategy, lousy at being personable. Expect to swap chairs depending on what’s going on.”
“I’m not getting thrown in the deep end, am I?”
“My dear boy,” said Sam. “How else can we discover if you can swim and fight sharks at the same time?”
Sara had warned him against law. Now he knew why.
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