Collective Mutants: Rock The Boat.

by Rossi

'So this is a booze cruise,' Allison thought glumly, taking a swig of the now-flat beer she'd been nursing for the past hour; she was restricting her intake, as her precarious control over her powers tended to slip when drunk. A pity Fatimah hadn't come - at least they could have laughed at the pretensions of Karen's law-student fellows and kept each other company. But the delicate 'Fairy' was still recuperating from the beating that had landed her in the hospital three months earlier, where Karen had found and 'adopted' her. And while Fatimah was grateful for the refuge from her father, she was still finding her feet among her new housemates. She'd begged off, explaining her mutant metabolism's intolerance to alcohol. Faced with the full force of Karen's persuasion, Allison's own resistance had quickly crumbled.

She sighed and looked out over the black water flowing past as the hired boat - basically a gutted houseboat - made its way across Port Phillip Bay to Williamstown. She then gazed up at the equally black night sky. It was one of the first times in Melbourne she could remember seeing so many stars, away from the dull orange glow of the city skyline. There were few people on the upper deck now; the cool damp breeze off the water was too much for after-five wear, and the booze was below, any way. Those who were on deck were either too drunk to notice the cold, or were sharing body heat as well as saliva. Allison gave a small grimace and looked away from the couple at the other end of the deck; it was hard to tell where one person ended and the other began. Again, she found herself wishing she was anywhere else than on this slow, smelly boat, surrounded by very drunk law students and abrasively loud techno music.

"There you are!" exclaimed a male voice behind her, and Allison groaned. She'd been trying to shake this bloke off all night, but he was more persistent than flystrike. He'd gotten it into his (rather thick, Allison had decided) head that being a country girl made her easy. The pyrokinetic looked around for an escape, and finding none except over the rail, she resigned herself to another slurred explanation of the GDP by an Economics student as pissed as a parrot. Karen wouldn't appreciate it if the loaned little black dress (and Allison was wishing it wasn't _quite_ so little) got ruined.

"Aren't you cold?" He began to put his arm around her shoulders, but she shrugged him off with a glare.

"One of the perks of being a mutant; I don't get cold," she told him.

If she was hoping playing the mutant card would put him off, she was disappointed.

"You're a mutant? Cool! I know…" Whatever else Troy Robinson had been about to say was interrupted by a loud splash, and a scream from the level below.

"Looks like someone's gone over the side," Troy remarked, leaning over the rail to look down into the water, in danger of falling in himself, he was so drunk. Allison grabbed his collar and hauled him back.

"I don't see anyone," she said. "I hope they're okay." Troy shrugged.

"Bound to happen, this many pissheads on a boat," he said breezily. Down below, the crew were shining spotlights into the murky water, hampered by the curious booze-cruisers clustered along the rail. Allison could hear a girl's voice babbling semi-hysterically:

"But I didn't push him in ! I only gave him a tap and he tipped over the side! I don't understand it! You don't think this will go on my record, do you?"

Then a familiar dark curly head popped into view amongst those along the lower rail and Allison called down:

"Hey Karen! What's up?" Karen looked around, confused for a moment, and then tracked her housemate's voice and looked up.

"Some bloke went over the side. Hang on, I'll come up there." She disappeared again, only to reappear on the stairs. Troy's eyes bulged alarmingly, but Allison couldn't blame him. Karen in a skin-tight red mini-dress was almost criminally sexy. At least it would take the heat off herself.

"What are you doing up here? It's bloody freezing!" Karen complained, wrapping her arms around herself. Troy looked almost ready to throw himself bodily at her, but Allison forestalled that with a gruff:

"Lend her your jacket, you drongo."

Reluctantly Troy did, shivering in his shirt sleeves.

"So, what's the drama?" Allison asked again as Karen draped the dinner jacket around her shoulders with a sigh of relief.

"Thanks mate, you're a life-saver," Karen said to her reluctant saviour, before switching her attention back to Allison. "I'm not sure exactly, but there was this bloke sitting on the rail, chatting up some girl, and somehow he got tipped over the side. Too much to drink, I expect."

"I wouldn't worry about it," Troy said, trying to grin through chattering teeth. "He'll turn up."

"As shark-food," Allison retorted somewhat waspishly. She'd known city people weren't as friendly as the folks back home, but Troy's disregard was a bit disturbing.

"I'd like to see that," he chuckled, still shivering. "Be a real show, that."

"Are you some kind of sicko or what?" Karen was echoing Allison's disgusted look.

"Still got that irresistible charm, I see, mate," said a new voice. Strangely enough, this one was coming from the other side of the boat. A moment later, a wet head appeared over the railing, followed by an equally-soaked body in a saturated dinner suit.

"You're just jealous 'cause I'm standing here with two gorgeous babes and all you've got is seaweed in your hair," smirked Troy. "Good swim, Fish?"

"Not bad. Water's cleaner than that time you dared me to swim the Yarra, at least. I was coughing up mud for a week."

"Hang on a minute… _You're_ the guy that fell over the side?" Allison looked from one boy to the other. "And _you_ dared him to?" Troy shrugged, unrepentant.

"The party was getting boring. Thought we'd liven things up a bit."

"But he could have drowned!" Karen exclaimed, aghast. "He could have gotten hit by the propeller, or tangled in a net, or anything! And just because you were bored?"

To the surprise (and displeasure) of both girls, the two boys burst into laughter.

"Show 'em, Fish," gasped Troy, nudging his friend. 'Fish' complied, spreading his hands so they could see the webbing, and pulling up the soaking wet shirt to display the gill slits along his rib cage.

"You're a mutant?" Allison spoke for both of them. The boy nodded, an irrepressible grin on his slightly freckled face.

"Th' name's Raphael Giannmario, but everyone calls me Fish," he offered, pulling his shirt down again (but neglecting to tuck it in) and sticking out his hand. Under the drunken affability, he seemed to be watching for her reaction.

"Allison Ferguson," she replied coolly, shaking his hand firmly and without hesitation. The blue-green eyes lost the guarded look, and Fish grinned. "And this is Karen Perkins, my housemate."

"I've seen you around," he said, shaking hands with Karen as well. "You do a bit with the mutant rights group at uni, don't you?"

"That'd be me," Karen agreed, smiling. Then she looked alarmed. "Shit, someone had better let the crew know you're okay before they call out the Water Police."

"Troy'll go, seeing how this was his idea," Allison said, giving Troy an look that meant refusal was no option. He opened his mouth to protest, but a similar look from Karen closed it again. Without another word, he headed below.

"And bring up some more beer! That swim sobered me up!" Fish called after him. Troy's reply was lost under the sound of the engines, which was probably a good thing.

"You two are complete idiots, you know that?" Allison shook her head. "Didn't you stop to think about the panic you'd cause?"

"Nope," Fish replied cheerfully, squeezing water out of his jacket. "Hmm, good thing this is rented." He fished a strand of seaweed out of the pocket and tossed it over the rail. Somehow it was impossible to be stern with someone who was dripping water everywhere and had sand down his collar; despite herself, Allison found a grin spreading across her face.

"So, what are you studying? I haven't seen you around the Law faculty," Karen asked, like Allison succumbing to the sheer good humour of Fish and steering the conversation to more familiar paths. Fish shrugged.

"That's probably 'cause I'm in Medicine. First year."

"Medicine? I'm impressed." Allison's remark was only a little bit sarcastic.

"I only do it because they have the best booze ups. I nearly did Law, but Med has a bigger pub crawl." There was a snort from Allison, but Karen tilted her head slightly and gave Fish a shrewd look.

"Somehow I don't think that's just it. There's more to you than meets the eye, Mr. Giannmario."

Fish blushed up to the roots of his sandy hair, but fortunately a shout from the level below rescued him from Karen's insights.

"Hey, Fish! There's a couple of blokes down here who want a word with you!" Troy's head popped through the trapdoor, followed by the unsmiling boat's captain. Fish gulped slightly.

"Um, gotta go," he said, "Catch ya later." And with that he made a spectacular, if clumsy running leap over the side.

***

The rosary hung from the rear-vision mirror of the taxi swung gently back and forth, and Allison found herself almost hypnotised by it. Next to her in the back seat, Karen murmured thickly and shifted slightly. The Law student had drunk more than was good for her; she'd fallen asleep almost as soon as the taxi had set off. To take her mind off the rosary, Allison nudged her dozing housemate.

"We're nearly there."

"Huzzat?" Karen blinked confusedly at the lights of Lygon Street passing outside, until the familiar landmarks gave her her bearings. "I must've fallen asleep."

"Tequila slammers will do that to you," Allison said, slightly waspish. Being the only sober person on a boat full of inebriated students had worn her patience - never her strongest trait - very thin. "It's a good thing I stopped you before you had too many, or you'd be feeling a lot worse than you do now."

"I'll remember that next time." Karen looked out the window for a few minutes, still waking up, and then said, "That guy jumping over the side, that was a laugh, wasn't it?"

"I suppose. The crew didn't seem to think so. I heard they banned him for life from any of the company's boats."

"Spoilsports. It was just a bit of a laugh, and it wasn't like he was in danger." Karen allowed a small lascivious grin to cross her face. "You've got to admit, he was kinda cute." Maddeningly, Allison simply shrugged.

"I suppose. His mate Troy was a complete pain in the arse, though."

"I suppose. Still, they were both good for a laugh." Karen grinned again. "I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to give him our number."

"Cradle snatcher. He's at least a year younger than you, probably more."

"He'd suit you then, right to the ground." Allison snorted.

"Yeah, right."

***

"Okay, thanks a lot. We'll let you know." Karen closed the front door after the latest candidate and turned to face the others, repressing the urge to roll her eyes. "Well, that one wasn't so bad."

"You think?" Anthony, with his mutant gift for mimicry, raised his voice in a dippy falsetto. "I just _know_ I'm going to love it here! You all have such _creative_ auras! And the feng shui is just so _auspicious_!"

Allison snorted, and despite herself, Karen's mouth twitched.

"All right, maybe not 'Sparkle'. But we're running out of options here," she said, leading the way back to the lounge room and plopping herself down on the couch. "We need to find someone else soon. Marco left so suddenly we didn't have a chance to cover him, and the extra rent's killing me."

"Well, maybe we should go through the list again," suggested Fatimah hesitantly from where she was curled up in the large armchair.

"Not _again_," Anthony groaned theatrically. To be fair, the Drama major brushed his teeth theatrically; it was in his blood. "If you girls weren't so picky…"

"You aren't still thinking we should take that Engie, are you?" Karen wrinkled her nose. Anthony shrugged.

"He was all right."

"He was horrible - he smelled like he'd been sick and hadn't had a bath for a week," Fatimah objected with a shudder of revulsion.

"Who's this?" Allison asked, coming in from the kitchen with her hands full of tea mugs. "Not that sleazebag again?"

"You noticed that too, did you?" laughed Karen. "I almost asked him if he'd hurt his neck, since he couldn't seem to look any higher than my chest."

"He's damn lucky all he got was a hotfoot," Allison grumbled. "I still think you should have let me set his pants on fire."

"With your, ahem, 'control', you would have done the poor slob a serious injury," pointed out Anthony. "Remember what happened when you tried to burn out that trail of ants in the kitchen?"

"It was only a little fire!"

The doorbell rang. The four housemates exchanged looks.

"I wasn't expecting any more people looking at the place…" Karen began, reluctantly untangling herself from the couch cushions. With a wave of her hand, Allison got up instead.

"I'll get it. Probably the Mormons or something again."

"I doubt it after the "Omen" impersonation Anthony gave them last time," chuckled Karen, as Anthony buffed his nails on his shirt in a pleased way.

Her bare feet slapping against the wooden floor of the hallway, Allison pulled her t-shirt straight before opening the door. Even standing on the doorstep, she had to look up to make eye contact with the young guy standing there.

"Um, hi," he said, looking both self-conscious and strangely familiar. "I heard there was a room for rent, and I was wondering…" He trailed off at Allison's quizzical look.

"I know you from somewhere, don't I?" she asked. He scratched his head.

"I dunno. Maybe the pub?" He ran his hand across his forearm, and winced as it rasped against dry, flaky skin. "Um, do you mind if I come in? This sun's pretty hot."

Allison looked puzzled - it was a rather pleasant sunny morning, really - but opened the door wider. "Sure," she said. "You can meet the others, if you like." She led the way down to the lounge room, racking her brains for where she'd seen the tall, sandy-haired visitor before. The mystery was short-lived, however; Karen never forgot a face.

"Fish!" she beamed, jumping up in a shower of cushions. "What are you doing here?"

"Um, sorry, you're gonna think I'm really rude, but I don't…" Fish's brow furrowed, and then recognition dawned. "Of course, that booze cruise! Karen, right?"

"Got it in one," Karen laughed. "Guys, this is Raphael, better known as Fish. Fish, this is Anthony and Fatimah - you've already met Allison."

"I have?" Fish looked the blond girl up and down. "Oh yeah, I remember. You look… different." Realising this could be taken badly, he scrambled to correct himself. "Better, I mean. Not that you didn't look good before…" The other three burst into laughter as he floundered into silence, Allison trying to look offended but having trouble in the face of Fish's sheer confusion.

"Here, have a seat. You said something about the room?" Karen came to the rescue as Allison disappeared into the kitchen, muttering something about getting a cuppa. They could hear her giggles through the swinging door, though, and Fish blushed again.

"Um, yeah, I heard there was a place here, and I thought I'd try my luck. I've been looking for ages, but no-one's really keen to have me."

"Why, exactly?" asked Fatimah cautiously. The fact she'd spoken at all was a good sign for Fish; she usually was too shy to speak to anyone visiting the house.

"'S the scales, y'see. They sorta make a mess…" Fish ran his hand over his arm again, and a cascade of silvery scales floated down onto the floor. "It's okay as long as I stay wet, but a bloke can't stay in the bath forever, y'know?"

"What's wrong with the pool?" Anthony leaned forward, curious. His own mutation was so mundane - he could imitate any sound - he was fascinated by the more "interesting" forms. He'd almost driven Fatimah to distraction with his questions when she'd first moved in. It was only four months on that his curiosity over the butterfly girl was easing. Fish pulled a face.

"Bloody chlorine, that's what's wrong. Still, the Brunnie pool's gone salt, so I'm hoping to hang out there this summer."

"So, what's the rush to move? Crappy situation?" Allison asked with her usual bluntness as she returned from the kitchen bearing a glass of apple juice. She'd guessed caffeine wouldn't be welcome if he was having dehydration problems. His smile told her she'd guessed correctly.

"Not really. I live with my folks, and don't get me wrong, they're great people, but…" Fish shook his head with a rueful chuckle. "Mama's driving me friggin' insane. She's just… in my face, all the time, wanting to know what I'm doing, who I'm doing it with, y'know?"

"Not first-hand, but I can imagine," Karen nodded.

"And I've got lots of brothers and sisters, and the house is always chaos. It's makin' it really hard to study, and I'm gonna fail my first year if I don't get out." Fish looked at them helplessly. "Lame, I know - you were probably expecting stories of persecution and the FOH."

"Not necessarily," Karen said with a smile. "And it's nice to have a 'normal' person around for a change. We get enough drama with Anthony here."

"Hah, I'll remember that next time you want free tickets to one of our shows," Anthony huffed, but not seriously. "So, is there anything we should know? Any unseemly or unsavoury habits? Any skeletons in your closet?" He let his voice drop into an eerie imitation of Alfred Hitchcock, and the rest laughed.

"Not really - I'm just a pretty ordinary bloke," Fish answered almost apologetically. "Probably too boring for you lot."

"Somehow I doubt that," Karen said, her brown eyes twinkling. "So, how about I show you the room?"

***

The End.

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