Dr. James Campbell

[Dr. James Campbell]

The easy S T U F F . . .

Name: Dr. James Emrys Campbell
Nickname: Jamie, the doc
Age: 43
Member Group: Institute official
Power(s): Super-enhanced perception
Sexual Orientation: Homosexual
Play By: David Tennant

Let it F L O W . . .

Eight times James Campbell surprised people.

One
Maeve Pevensie frowned and bit the inside of her lip, holding back tears. It wasn't her fault alone, but it wasn't Neil's either, and she didn't want to ruin everything. Honestly, it didn't matter that it was both of their fault, because she wasn't going to go to college anyway. But Neil had been considering it, though his job at the print shop was pretty good.

Either way, this was bad news in 1969, for a 16-year-old Catholic couple, still in high school and living at home.

She tentatively knocked on her boyfriend's door, giving his mother a weak smile and letting herself be shuttled to the kitchen, where Neil was helping his younger brother with math homework. "Neil, I've got to talk to you about something. In private."

Neil stood, took her hand, and brought her out into the backyard, knowing that whatever was coming, it wasn't good. "You're not breaking up with me, are you?" He tried to joke, tried to make her smile.

"I'm pregnant."

He stared at her for a moment, as the full impact sank in. "You sure?" She nodded, and he drew her into a tight hug as she started to cry. "Have you thought about...?"

"No. I can't do that." Maeve shook her head, though she stayed leaning against him.

"Okay, then will you marry me?"She looked up at him, surprised. "I can't promise you a big house or a perfect life, but we can do this. We could be good parents."

"Yes, Neil Campbell, I'll marry you." Maeve started to sob again, with a little relief mixed in with her fear.

They could do this.

Two
Eleven-year-old James cocked his head to the side, studying his youngest--and newest--sibling closely. Barely a few weeks old, she was...different...from the other babies he'd seen before. In fact, she was different from the way she had been, even yesterday. Something was wrong.

"Mooooom!" He ran up the stairs to where his mother was putting away laundry. "Something's wrong with Laura."

Maeve dropped the basket in her arms and raced down the stairs, nearly tripping over the twins at the bottom. But when she looked at the infant girl, Laura just looked back, with her big baby eyes. "James! Don't scare me like that again. Making up stories is bad."

The little boy angrily pushed his glasses back up his nose, where they had almost slid off. "I'm not making it up! She's different. There's something wrong."

"James, I'm surprised at you. I never have to lecture you about lying. That's usually Mike or Harriet. Go to your room." Maeve crossed her arms and frowned at her eldest. Typically, he was such a good boy, helping take care of the six-year-old twins and keeping an eye on his baby sister. He never acted out like this.

James, sulking, stomped off to the small bedroom he shared with his younger brother. He stayed there all afternoon, only coming down to eat his dinner, and then he returned to his room.

However, when Maeve and Neil rushed little Laura to the hospital that night, with a high fever and a nasty ear infection, James sat up with Mike and Harriet until their sitter got there.

Three
Lucy smiled weakly up at her husband. Usually, she couldn't stand being with him for long stretches of time, particularly when he got fixated on something. And it didn't help that he somehow always knew exactly what she was feeling, and was hurt that she didn't understand him.

But now she understood him, and it was beautiful. For once, James wasn't fixated on her, and instead on their baby girl, whom he held. Cradled in his arms, she looked so tiny, but already, Lucy could tell that his whole world was going to revolve around her. "Oh, Ginny, my pretty, pretty girl. I've got so many hopes for you. You're going to be brilliant, I know. I'll teach you how to fly a kite, and play cards. I don't know how to dance, but your mother does, and she can teach you that. She's very graceful, like a butterfly. And I'm a big spaz, she can tell you that, but I'll make sure you've always got the best books to read, and until you can do it yourself, I'll read to you, how does that sound?" He carefully leaned over and kissed her wrinkled red cheek. In his eyes, Ginny was the most beautiful baby ever born.

"James?" Lucy sat up a bit more in her hospital bed, then reached out her arms. "Can I have her back, please? She's probably hungry."

Apprehensively, as if he knew that it would be difficult to get his daughter back from her mother, he handed her over, then sat on the edge of the bed. "She's beautiful."

"Yes, she is." And for once, Lucy was really, truly happy she had married him. Ginny had been an accident, but at that moment, everything was perfect.

Four
James was late getting home from work, which in and of itself wasn't that unusual, since he often went to the library after work so he could study. It was easier for him to work on his graduate studies there, where Ginny wouldn't be crying. Then he would come home and take the night shift, so Lucy could get some sleep as well.

It wasn't that she was angry with him for staying out all day, and now well into the evening, but she wasn't happy. And somehow, he would know this, she was sure of it, and think that she was blaming him. Which she wasn't. Really.

When she heard him at the door, she was surprised to find him grinning, in a way that made him look a little insane. "James... what's wrong? What happened?"

"I'm not crazy!"

And Lucy began to laugh. Because seriously, after everything that James had put her though, for him to come home and announce that, when she knew that he was likely to analyse how her day had been by how she had her hair, or something. And then he might spend all night rearranging the bookshelves in their cramped living room, because he couldn't bear to throw away a single copy of a single book. "Really, who told you that?"

"A recruiter from the Hammel Intitute. She said I have a power, super-perception. I'm not OCD, I'm a meta-human. I need to go to Vermont with her and they'll train me and..."

Lucy stopped laughing and cut him off. "Don't do this. If you're going to lie about why you're late, at least give me something to believe. Sure, you have a superpower, and that's why I can't have the cabinets the way I want them. You said it was a she, didn't you?"

"Yes. Her name was Aristea. And really, she did a blood test and everything. She could phase through walls, and tried to, because I was annoying her because I could tell something was wrong with her and then she pretty much told me what my life was like, exactly, right down to fixating on the little things. It's not OCD. It's call super-enhanced perception and I have it. I can use it to really help people too." James was so excited, he wrapped his arms around Lucy and kissed her on the cheek. "We can go to Vermont, and I can learn to control it."

"But what about your job?"

"I can find one up there."

"And what about Ginny?"

"She comes with us. We can live in the town nearby. It's got good schools and everything would be perfect!"

"And you'll be moving us away from our families. I want my daughter to know her grandparents. We're not going to Vermont, no matter what your Arisa says."

"Aristea. And I took the job at the bank because you wanted me to. I'm studying business because you wanted me to. We moved into this apartment in this neighborhood because you wanted us to. Why can't we even discuss this?" James picked up his infant daughter and held her close, nuzzling her gently. As she always did, she grabbed onto his glasses and yanked them off, then smiled her little baby smile. "What if Ginny has it too? Aristea said it was genetic. She'll need to grow up knowing what it is."

Lucy stepped forward and took her daughter away. "No James. I don't know what you're doing with this lie, but I want it to stop now. I've never known you to make up something like this. Did you sleep with her? Is that why you won't tell me what's really going on?"

"What the fuck, Lucy?" James had often thought she suspected him of cheating on her, but he never had. Since he'd found out Ginny was on the way, he hadn't been with anyone else. (And he knew it felt wrong. Very wrong. But he couldn't admit to Lucy why.) "I'm not lying. And I didn't cheat on you."

"Until you can be honest with me, you can find somewhere else to stay."

Five
"I thought you were all gung-ho about coming with me, what happened?" Aristea crossed her arms and watched James carefully. She didn't have his innate ability to read people, so she had to work quite a bit harder at it. "You have to come to Vermont."

"I told you, I can't." James was frowning, and looked almost ashamed of himself, "I couldn't convince my wife to relocate. I can't go."

She looked at him skeptically, her eyebrows quirking up. A wife? Really? Was he that much in denial? "You're married?" Though she tried to hide it, the disbelief was evident in her voice, at least to him. And he knew exactly what she was thinking.

"Yes," James said bitterly, looking away, "And a seven-month-old daughter named Ginny. Lucy doesn't want to move her away from our extended family." Really, it was a rational decision, until you realize her conclusion was because she refused to believe that such thing as meta-human powers existed. Even though she'd been living with a man with powers for almost a year, she wouldn't believe that there was anything different about her husband that wasn't OCD, or possibly infidelity. (Though she could never prove it, when he came home from work intent on moving them several states away so he could be near a powered human institution and raving about a woman named Aristea, she'd been convinced.)

"And how old are you?"

"Twenty-two."

"Without training, you're a danger to yourself and others. I'm sorry, James." And she sprayed him with a simple knock-out gas.

The next day, he'd been allowed to call Lucy from the Institute, and some official had gone to their apartment to explain why he wasn't coming back until he'd received more training. Really, he was the only one who was surprised when she asked him to sign the divorce and custody papers, over the phone.

"But I told you the truth!" James insisted, almost ready to cry. Yes he was willing to sign the divorce papers. It would be easiest on the three of them if he and Lucy could each be with someone they actually liked. But he wasn't about to give up his rights to see Ginny whenever he wanted.

"And you put Ginny in danger until you're trained. Once you're able to control...whatever this is...don't go near her with it." Lucy sounded like she'd been crying as well.

"It's not like I shoot fire out of my eyes. I just see things differently."

After a long, drawn-out court battle, he signed the papers, with the clause, "Until the Institution deems him safe." And that was what he clung to, his first three years of training.

Six
"Dude," the blond man approached James cautiously, as if he wasn't exactly sure what he was doing. Or more accurately, he wasn't sure what James was doing. He held the beer the older man had sent over, though. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Sending you a beer. I'm James Campbell." He coolly took a drink of his own beer, smirking. "What's your name?"

The blond shook his head in disbelief. This guy had chosen the wrong part of town to pull this kind of shit. "No, I meant why? Why'd you send me a drink? Do you want to get beat up or something?"

"No," James finished off his beer, then readjusted the thick-framed glasses he was wearing, "I just wanted to meet you. And that's how you meet people you're attracted to in bars, sending them drinks."

"This isn't a gay bar."

"I'm aware."

"I think you're insane for pulling this."

"I've picked up on that."

The blond glared at him, but it was more out of confusion than anger. "Then why are you looking at me like that?"

"Because," James said, gesturing to the stool next to him and signaling the bartender to bring him another drink, "I think you're interesting."

The younger man quirked an eyebrow up, then shrugged and sat down next to him. How could he not? Anyone with the balls to try to pick up a guy in an area known for being very conservative was worth getting to know. "I'm Chase Kilbourne."

"Nice to meet you, Chase. Like I said, I'm James."

Seven
"So," James said, smiling as he once again straddled Chase's naked form, feeling the younger man arch up against him. He shifted his weight slightly, putting a bit more pressure on both of them. The week had been amazing, with them going to their respective jobs during the day, then meeting up at James' hotel room each night. "What is it--your ability, I mean--what can you do?"

Chase just stared up at him, his eyes growing wide, first in shock, then in a bit of anger. Where the fuck did this guy get off?

"I mean," James continued, though he could tell that he'd just changed the mood from hot and passionate to....well, he'd pissed his lover off, that much was certain. "Your temperature is steady, and normal, so it isn't anything to do with heat, fire, or ice. Someone with super-strength wouldn't have complained about sore muscles. You still have a hickey on your neck, so you aren't invulnerable, a cell-regenerator, or a bio-manipulator--or possibly you are, and you're just kinky enough to want to keep it..." He smirked, but then Chase rolled him off and sat up, glaring. "And you're not an empath. I can spot them a mile away."

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Dr. James Campbell. I told you that a week ago." Though he was gifted at reading people and situations, part of the human condition was acting in unexpected ways, so he would have to be careful here.

"Stop fucking with me. What are you doing here, trying to get me to join some government program where everyone different is going to be coded and put in lockdown?" There were horror stories about things the government had tried to do with the super-powered people, and Chase had heard all of them during his stint at the Institute when he was a teenager. "I'm not going, and you can't make me."

"No, Chase. That's not it at all. I told you I was a recruiter for an elite school. You were too distracted by what I was doing with my hands to ask what kind of school." James didn't meet his eyes, slightly ashamed of the lengths he'd gone to make sure Chase didn't ask anything else about his occupation. "I-I can do something too. I can 'read' people. That's how I knew you were like me, and that you wouldn't entirely object to a guy sending you a beer at a bar."

"You took advantage of that." Chase said, accusingly.

"You take advantage of being attractive when you want to go home with someone. What's wrong with me playing to my strengths? I can't predict the future; I didn't know how you would respond." James was worried. He figured he could talk his way out of this, but only if he was able to keep the blond man in bed. "If I was interested in you just because of your ability, don't you think I would have tried to figure out what it was before I slept with you?"

Chase eyed James, still not trusting him. "You're a recruiter."

"Yeah. I travel around the country and find people who are just discovering their talents. Yours are obviously under control, you're not really of interest to my department of the Institute."

"Hammel."

James nodded, and leaned back against the pillows. As it was, it seemed like the other man wasn't going to storm out of the hotel room. So though he was probably still in purgatory, Chase didn't hate him for not revealing this right away. "You're an Alumni then?" Chase nodded, but he didn't relax. "I am too, kind of. I made it through college before anyone told me that no one else sees things the same way as me."

The blond man shifted closer, interested. "What the hell did you think was going on then? Didn't you need training?" He frowned, though he wasn't exactly angry at James for this. He probably had nothing to do with it. "They told me that everyone needs at least some training. And isn't there side-effects and shit, like migraines?"

"You've got a mental skill then, if you get migraines. And yeah, I had side-effects. Severe OCD, the alphabetizing my pantry, color-coding my bookshelf kind. But people get that without my skill. It wasn't until I started pestering what turned out to be a recruiter, because I could tell something was different about her. She did a field blood test on me, and then I was arrested and sent to Hammel for training, because I'd managed to evade them for so long." He smiled, but it was half-hearted. James actually liked his job, but his time as a student at Hammel had been hell, particularly when he was the only one able to drink in a class with 13-year-olds.

"And now you work for them?" With a hint of amusement in Chase's voice, he moved closer, until he could wrap his arm around James' waist. "Taking kids away from their lives to go live in a government facility?"

James smiled, and shifted so he was again pressed against Chase's skin. "I give them the choice to get training, for their safety and the safety of their families. A pyrokinetic needs training, and I bet your migraines aren't as frequent as they were when they were younger."

Chase thought in silence for a moment, then decided that James was forgiven. He nodded, and kissed him deeply. The older man growled and kissed him back.

Eight
"I'm coming, I'm coming." Chase grumbled as he made his way to the door, where someone was persistently knocking. It wasn't loud, but whoever it was wouldn't stop, and it wasn't his fault he'd been in the shower when it started. "Whaddaya want?" He pulled the door open, to reveal a soaking-wet James.

Somehow, he'd managed to arrive during the one of the few thunderstorms of the year. It didn't matter to him though, because he promptly leaned in and kissed Chase right on the lips, even though he was still technically standing outside in the hall, where any of the neighbors could see them. "What are you doing here, James?"

"I want you to come to Vermont with me." James' big, brown eyes were wide and he look off his thick glasses so he could attempt to dry them off on his soaked shirt. It didn't work very well, so he just left them off. "It's just..."

There was no rational way to explain what he was doing. Since he'd left Arizona three weeks ago, every spare moment had been dedicated to hatching ways to either return to the quiet, conservative town, or to get the blond man to follow him back, across the country. He know it was more than a long shot, it was nearly impossible, but he had to try. "It's just, I can't stop thinking about you."

"Come in." Chase carefully looked up and down the hall, checking to make sure that no one was watching him let the bedraggled man inside. "What are you talking about, James?" It wasn't accusing, he was honestly confused by the man's appearance. They'd split paths on good terms, with James' promise that he would look Chase up whenever his work brought him back into the area.

"You're not happy here, are you?"

"I thought we agreed that you wouldn't use that on me."

"Sorry. But even if I couldn't read you, I'd know this. You went back to my hotel with me because you were a little drunk and I was the most interesting thing that had happened to you in a while. Chase, you can have more interesting things. If you come to Vermont with me, you can get a certification to teach kids how to use their powers. We could use someone like you in training. You'd be a built-in safety for the more dangerous of powers. You could really help people." Finally, James took a breath. Somehow, he'd managed to get that all out in one go. "And I want you to come with me because I like you. And I like us."

The blond man sat down on his hand-me-down couch. It was a lot to process. "You mean to tell me, that after a few classes, I could start training people? And they'd actually let me do it?"

"They'd pay you to!"

"And what about living arrangements? I don't have an apartment or anything there, and I'd need to find one."

"You could stay with me. I'd really like that."

"You want us to be together, don't you James?"

The older man barked out a laugh, and held out his arms, which were still dripping water from the sleeves onto the carpet Chase had bought at a flea market. "Of course I do."

Chase shook his head slightly, "This is too good to be true, isn't it?

James shrugged. It wasn't up to him, not for a long time. "I...have one thing I didn't tell you. I have a daughter, she's fifteen, and she's the result and cause of one, very short marriage. Her name is Ginny, and she lives with her mother in Massachusetts."

"You have a daughter?"

"Yeah, I don't particularly mention that when I pick someone up in a bar. But if you come home with me, you should know. Please come with me, Chase."

"I need to think about it."

James stayed that night, and when Chase actually could think, he could hardly believe this was happening. He quit his job the next day.

Behind the M A S K . . .

Name: Tony
Age: Twenty
RP Experience: Years and years.
How did you find us?: Magic.

Show your S K I L L S . . .

I might actually do this, I'm not sure. I'm lazy.

[/justify]