Warren leaned against the doorway of the Danger Room, arms crossed, his wings twitching slightly from the nerves. He’d finally cornered her.

Klara had been avoiding him like the plague ever since that shapeshifter incident a week ago. The incident itself hadn’t been particularly remarkable; shapeshifters impersonating X-Men were practically a Tuesday night special

This one, however, had been…unsettling.

Even in capture, the creature had worn this unsettling smirk, like it had accomplished something more than just sowing a little discord. And the discord had definitely been sown.

Several X-Men were still a little wary of each other, but Klara’s reaction had been the most extreme. She had barely made eye contact with Warren since, their usual flirty relationship replaced with a stiff formality that made his chest ache.

Now, Klara stood before him, back pressed against a console, eyes darting everywhere but at him. Warren pushed off the doorframe, taking a slow step closer.

"Klara" he began, his voice softer than he'd intended, "We need to talk about this."

Klara shifted her weight, still avoiding his gaze. Warren could practically feel the tension radiating off Klara.

"About what, Warren?" Warren mimicked Klara's clipped tone, injecting a playful lilt to soften the edge. "You thinking about the weather? It is a bit gloomy today, yeah?"

He could smell the faint scent of ozome and metal, the lingering aroma of the Danger Room. He could also smell Klara's unique scent, a comforting scent, something else he couldn’t quite place, but always found himself drawn to.

"Don't play coy with me, Klara." He stopped just a breath away, his wings finally stilling from their nervous twitching.

"Something isn't right. You've been avoiding me like the plague. And that smirk on the shapeshifter's face…it got me thinking.." He tilted his head, studying Klara's face.

"What did that thing do, Klara?" What did it do while wearing my face?" The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken anxieties. He desperately hoped the answer wouldn't be one that would drive a wedge between them, a wedge he wasn't sure he could ever repair.