I apologize if this was double posted. But I had a very hard time
getting it out to everyone.

   Did you hear about the new rule fanfiction.net has posted? All nc-17
stories are being taken down. No stories above an R rating are allowed
any more . How long do you think it will be before they don't allow R
rated stories or perhaps slash. This is not right. We give good money to
this site, so that it will stay up and running. We do this because this
is the best site on the web for ALL types of fanfiction. From little
kiddie scribbles to nc-17 stories. Fanfiction.net changed the rules to
block nc-17 fics because they received a lot of complaints from parents.
The parents say their kids are reading stuff they shouldn't. But whose
fault is that. Because it certainly isn't fanfiction.net's fault or the
poor authors who very clearly label their stories. No it's the parents
fault. It's not like fanfiction.net is listed as a safe site for kids.
The parents of these children need to download netnanny or something.
Not censor everybody on the net. Do we allow these people to censor our
public libraries. No we don't because we have the right to read anything
we want, even trash. Which most of these stories are not. I am asking
everyone that enjoys nc-17 fics and those who just wish for the web to
remain free of censorship. To join me in a campaign to restore our right
to read any story we wish. If fanfiction.net won't restore the stories
to their former place Then perhaps they will compromise with us and set
up a mirror site for all R and nc-17 fics. I do agree somewhat with
these parents. These stories can be bad for children. But it is the
parents job to make sure their kids aren't reading things they
shouldn't. Please help me start a petition and a letter writing campaign
to restore these stories. Pass this letter on to lists, clubs, web
sites, message boards, and anywhere else you can think of. I know there
is enough of us out there that we can bury them in emails. Please help
by writing letters to the heads of fanfiction.net at
services@... Also I have started a yahoo group so that we may
gather copies of all the letters sent. So please send two copies of the
letter you write to fanfiction.net, one to them and one to us on the
list. This way we have a record of how many letters were sent. Also join
and share your ideas for getting the stories back up. Every little bit
will help. Group homepage is
groups.yahoo.com/group/stopffnetfrombanningnc17stories Group email is
stopffnetfrombanningnc17stories@yahoogroups.com You may contact me
through the list. I will try to reply as quickly as possible. Or you may
email me at catchfire@... . But it would be better to use the list
so everyone can share your ideas.
          Catchfire
ps I found this petition. So please go and sign it.
www.petitiononline.com/KEEPNC17/petition.html

> In light of the FF.net developments, if there are any XMM authors out there
> who are losing the only place to host their stories, email me and we'll chat.
>
> I can't guarantee anything, and I won't host fic I consider to be sub-par
> quality-wise, but we can talk, and see if we can't come up with a solution.
>
> victoria

And I offer free webhosting for fanfic sites at Vox Populli.  You can check out
the details and request a free website at:

http://www.populli.org/

I can host just about anything except minors with sexual content (under age 15)
or bestiality, as those things are prohibited by US laws and my webhost.

There will be a slight delay in setting up any new websites as I'm in the
process of moving the Populli.net domain to a new webhost but that should be all
settled by Sunday or Monday and I'll get any requests set up on Tuesday.

alice ttlg
Vox Populli webmistress


Coda: http://coda.populli.org/
Idiot Box: http://idiotbox.populli.org/
--
They said he was a murderer, I thought he was simply breathtaking.
- Author unknown

Hi all,

This continues my LOTR/X-men crossover. You can read the earlier 8 chapters
here:

http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=526128


Enjoy:


Part 9:

“I can’t tell you how much fun this trip has been; demons, fire monsters and the
longest fuckin’ rowing trip in the history of man……” Logan began as they had
finally come to shove after many hours hard canoeing from the Golden Wood.

“Yes, doesn’t it make you feel lucky to know you got this opportunity?” Scott
teased as he dragged his canoe to shore.

At first daylight they had moved out from Lothlorien where the Queen had seen
them off. She had given them things to aid them on their way, among other capes
which she claimed would make them invisible to Sauron’s crystal ball….or
something along those lines. As a man of logic Scott found there was too much
magic in this world for him to feel at ease. Lothlorien had seemed very changed
in daylight or maybe something had happened during the night that he had missed.
In any rate the magical and peaceful feeling he had gotten from the place the
evening they had arrived had gone like the morning rain. The place had still
looked beautiful beyond words but he had felt there was a power, a hidden danger
there he couldn’t explain that made him uneasy. Frodo and Boromir especially
seemed changed as they had moved out. Frodo had seemed burdened, saddened and
when Boromir had helped him into the canoe with Aragorn Frodo had all but ran
from him.

The Elven Queen had known more than she had let on; Scott was sure of it. What
annoyed him was that he feared someone would pay for her and everyone else they
had met in this strange land for that matter, love for riddles. Boromir on the
other hand had seemed to give up any hostility towards the King and they had
talked and laughed together as friends when they had gotten the canoes ready. On
their way down the river Legolas had taken Ororo, Aragorn had Frodo and Sam,
Boromir had Merry and Pippin, Logan and Rogue had taken a canoe together while
Scott had been with Gimli. On their way up the river they had passed two
gigantic statues of men holding out hands as in warning. The sight of what were
apparently statues of old Kings of Gondor had moved both Aragorn and Boromir.
Scott would have loved to find out how they had built those statues……

“We’ll rest here for a while,” Aragorn said as they had all gotten to land and
settled down around the riverbank.

“Oh, and now when we were having such fun,” Logan said sarcastically as he sat
down with Rogue who giggled at his words, which made him smile. Scott sat down
beside them and rested, looking out over the river and the woods.

“I sense a darkness, a shadow. Danger grows near,” Legolas warned Aragorn.

“No, really? We’re in danger?” Logan mumbled mockingly. Both man and Elf ignored
him.

“I know we have little time. Let me know when you know more about this sensation
you feel,” Aragorn requested of his friend and bond brother.

“I will, Estel,” Legolas promised and smiled despite the drawing dangers at his
human brother. Aragorn was the most remarkable human he had ever met and his
respect for the Elven culture was great. He had known Aragorn since childhood
and though he was many 1000th years older than the young human Legolas found
wisdom and bravado beyond his years in Aragorn that had earned him his love and
respect.

“Thanks,” Aragorn said and smiled back, feeling better and more at ease with
himself now. He felt happy for Legolas’ use of his childhood nickname ‘Estel’ or
Hope as the Elven word translated into as it brought back a feeling of
togetherness and warmth that he needed in this time of darkness.

“Have you seen Boromir? I can’t find him,” Scott suddenly asked, a frown
covering his brow. He had walked around the camp but hadn’t been able to find
him anywhere. Logan looked around, trying to find their friend.

“I haven’t seen him since he helped Pippin and Merry to shore. Maybe they know
where he is,” Rogue answered his question.

“I just asked them, they say they don’t. However Pippin told me Boromir had
talked with them before he…disappeared. He said that Boromir had told him and
Merry that they were as his own younger brothers or sons to him and that he
cared deeply for them and asked them to remember that no matter what happened,”
Scott explained, concern heavy in his voice.
”That sounds an awful lot like goodbye to me,” Logan admitted and stood up,
helping Rogue to her feet with him.

“Where is Frodo?” Sam asked worried. He had only dozed off for a little while.
He prayed his beloved friend was all right. He should have taken better care of
him.

“He isn’t here,” Aragorn suddenly realized.

“And neither is Boromir,” Scott told them. Aragorn frowned.

“I’ll go look for Frodo. Legolas, stay here and stay alert,” Aragorn ordered.

“Now, this is why I wonder who in their right mind would let a child be a chosen
warrior,” Logan mumbled darkly on Frodo’s disappearing act.

“We should try and find Boromir,” Rogue suggested and Logan nodded.

“Ororo, we’ll go look for Boromir,” Scott said and came to her where she sat on
a fallen tree, keeping an open eye out for any hint of danger.

“Okay. Be careful,” she said and he nodded before he bent down and softly kissed
her check.

“You too, Wind Rider,” he asked before he disappeared into the woods with Rogue
and Logan.



*                    *                    *

“Frodo, you shouldn’t wander so far away from camp,” Boromir told him as he
gathered wood for a fire. He tried to fight the urge to look towards the Ring
that hung around Frodo’s neck in a chain. As time passed his desire to take it
had become greater. Why couldn’t anyone see that the Ring could save his Kingdom
and set his people free?

“Stay back,” Frodo warned fearfully, not liking the look in Boromir’s eyes as he
came closer.

“I see you suffer more and more for each day. This burden is weighting you down.
Why go to the mountain? We can easily go to Gondor from here. With the power of
the One Ring we could defend my country and get rid of Sauron’s evil forever.”

“Don’t come nearer,” Frodo warned and took a step backwards.

“Why do you recoil? I am no thief,” Boromir said, hurt in his voice. He was the
son of the Steward of Gondor and no thief nor villain……..he just wanted to
protect his people. How could that be bad? He only wished what was right; he
just wanted to stop the bloodshed of his people. It wasn’t just his right to
protect them; it was his duty.

“You’re not yourself,” Frodo warned, seeing the light in Boromir’s eyes fade as
if a battle for his soul were racing within him; tearing him to pieces.

“I only ask for the strength to help my people!” Boromir yelled and threw the
gathered firewood on the ground as something in him broke; honour, strength,
help, need, want, power……it all blended into one as Boromir made a grab for
Frodo.

“Don’t!” Fordo yelled frightened as he ran from Boromir but he quickly ran after
him.

“You just want to use the Ring for yourself………or give it to Sauron!” Boromir
accused, his thoughts getting even darker at this thought of betrayal.

“No, I will not,” Frodo denied as Boromir got hold of him and tried to tear the
Ring from Frodo.

“Give me the Ring. It’s mine. It should have been mine!” Boromir demanded just
as Frodo succeeded in putting the Ring on and therefore become invisible to
Boromir by its power.

“Hmm?” Boromir looked in wonderment as he grabbed only empty air. Suddenly he
heard some leaves rush as Frodo ran away. As the Ring moved further away from
him its power began to fade and light returned to Boromir’s opal green eyes.

“Frodo...?” he asked confused. What had happened? Where was he? Where was Frodo?
Suddenly memory painfully returned to him in full force and Boromir drew a sharp
breath as he fought tears yet they fell from his eyes anyway.

“What've I done...?” he mumbled, breaking down and crying into the leaves on the
wood floor. He had betrayed everyone; driven Frodo away. He had betrayed his
country, his father, his oath, his word and his honour. By all what was
holy………what had he done and how could he ever make such a terrible fault right?
Was that even possible?





TBC



Author’s notes: Yes, this was a bit short but next chapter will be longer. And
LOTR fans if you think you know where this is heading…think again. I have great
plans in store for these poor people *G*.

Thanks to Estelle for beta and Jonas for suggestions.

I hope you liked it.

PRIMARY COLORS
Minisinoo


Summary:  Scott Summers, meet Jean Grey.  Jean Grey, meet Warren
Worthington, III.  Nothing in life is ever simple, and part of
growing up means facing difficult truths.  (#6 in the "Special"
series)

Series website: http://www.greymalkinlane.com/min/special.html

Warning:  Not much for this part, but the description of the car
accident is a bit gruesome.

Notes:  Jean's "wing care" is lovingly dedicated to Pax. She'll know
why.  Wal-Mart is a nod to Lelia.  Additional thanks to Heatherly and
Domenika (as well as Naomi, as always).  Those familiar with X-Men #1
will enjoy (I hope) the echo.

-----

When you first meet the woman who'll turn out to be the great love of
your life, you'd think there'd be some warning, some fanfare, or at
least a nipping intuition.

Nope.  Nada.  Not even a hint.

In fact, I can't now recall what Jean was wearing when I first saw
her, or anything specific about her beyond the fact that she was
attractive in a sophisticated fashion, and her arms were full of
presents wrapped in chic paper of blue and gold, ivory and wine, and
topped with velvet bows.  The presents grabbed my attention mainly
because it looked as if she were about to drop them all.

Warren and I had come barreling out of the billiards room when some
stranger had bellowed "Merry Christmas!" at the top of her lungs in
the foyer.  Burglars don't usually announce their presence -- at
least not like a branded calf -- but the mansion wasn't a place that
people wandered into casually, either.  So we'd raced out to find her
standing there with her arms full and the door hanging open behind
her, letting in freezing air.  I had a pretty good idea who she was,
even without Hank sliding down the stairwell banister with a shout of
"Jeannie."

The oft mentioned but heretofore elusive Jean Grey had appeared at
last.

Hank took some of her presents as Warren walked over to shut the
door.  That was when she noticed the two of us, or really, noticed
Warren, and paused to blink in nonplused surprise, her mouth hanging
open a bit stupidly.  I got nothing more than a cursory glance before
her gaze swiveled back to him, taking in both his wings and his face,
but fixating on his face.

"Hi," she said.  "You must be Warren."  Then, as if remembering, she
turned to me and grinned.  "And you're Scott, right?"

So she'd heard about us just as we'd heard about her.

Hank cheerfully inserted himself among us to make introductions.
"Jeannie, this is Scott Summers.  He joined us in September.  And
this is Warren Worthington III, who joined just this month.  Fellows,
this is the lovely, talented, and ebullient Jean Grey."

Laughing, Jean shifted presents to smack his arm -- not hard -- then
ask, "Where's Charles?"

It surprised me to hear her call the professor by his given name so
casually, but Hank just pointed back up the stairs.  "Last I saw, he
was working in his office.  I'm sure he knows you're here by now,
though."

And as if on cue, the hall elevator dinged and the door slid aside.
This was the public lift, not the hidden one going to the
sub-basement.  A grinning Xavier wheeled out, his arms extended, and
Jean put down her presents to hurry over and embrace him warmly.
"I'm so glad to have you back, my dear," he said.  "I've missed you."

And at that, I just saw green.

I didn't have a name then to hang on the sudden, dark shift of my
thoughts -- I wasn't good at naming feelings -- but I was the Elder
Son watching the return of the favored Prodigal.  And I was bitterly
jealous.

So no, I didn't fall in love with Jean Grey at first sight.  Quite
the opposite, actually.  She was the interloper, the threat to my
place in the household.  What I didn't stop to consider was how I'd
shifted so quickly from thinking of myself as a tolerated counterfeit
to a child who had a place for which he could be challenged.

Crossing my arms, I tried to affect a jaded disinterest.  Of course,
hiding anything from a telepath is just this side of ludicrous, but
at the time, I didn't realize Jean was as much a telepath as Xavier.

She'd arrived more or less in time for supper, so the professor
herded all of us from the foyer into the dining hall, and Warren and
Hank warred over the right to pull out a chair for her at the long
table.  Arms crossed on the back of my own chair, I just watched.
The little bitch, she had the rest of them eating right out of her
hand.

Smiling faintly at the other two, and eyeing me, she said, "That's
really not necessary, boys."  And she made a commanding gesture with
one hand.

My own chair jerked out from under me and slid around to her side of
the table.  "Holy *fuck*!" I yelled.  "What the hell?"

Jean sat down in it and rested her elbows on the table.  "I just
thought I'd save you the trouble."  She grinned like an imp.  At me.
Then she winked.  Inside my skull, she said, *The 'little bitch' can
get her own chair.  It's the ‘90s.  And I'm not your rival, Scott.*

Involuntarily, I laughed, though Hank and Warren had no idea what I
found so funny.  Bitch, yes.  Minx, too.  And not afraid to call me
on my assumptions.

"Jean," Xavier was saying, "is a telekinetic, as well as a telepath,
like myself."

"Not as strong, though," Jean added.  "I can't read random thoughts
unless they're . . . obvious."

She hadn't released my gaze.

We sat down to eat, and after the meal, Jean distributed her
presents.  Rather to my surprise, she had something for us all, even
Warren and me.  Mine was a puzzle, 5000 pieces showing an image of
jumbled, multi-hued Ukranian Easter eggs.  It wasn't expensive enough
-- lightweight cardboard Hasbro -- to make me feel badly at having
nothing for her in return, but it was far more specific than food or
clothing, either of which might have cost more, yet been less
thoughtful.

Warren's present was even more intriguing.  What does one get for the
man who can afford everything?  A set of bottled ointments,
apparently handmade and labeled with black magic-marker.  "What is
this stuff?" he asked, holding one up to peer at the writing.

"Healthy skin and feather care for the winged mutant in winter."  She
grinned.  "Your body may secrete natural oils, but it won't hurt to
supplement them."  She pointed to bottles.  "The one you're holding
is cod-liver oil.  Don't make a face!  You need it.  Prime vitamin A
supplement.  Given your body weight, I'd say -- what do you think,
Hank? -- 6 ounces a day in winter?"

I was struggling not to laugh at the expression on Warren's face.  I
got a puzzle; he got cod-liver oil.

"The other capped bottles," she was saying, "are flax seed and
evening primrose oils.  Both you can apply directly to any irritated
spots on the wings.  But once a day, regardless, you should apply the
mist -- that's what's in the three spray bottles.  It's evening
primrose, elder, chamomile, calendula and sesame oil."

And so it went.  Jean had specific, if inexpensive, presents for us
all, and she seemed to take great delight in seeing our reactions.
It said, I thought, a great deal about her, yet my cynical side was
still suspicious.  Simple kindness didn't strike me as motivation
enough, so I studied her.  She was tall, with large bones and a
strong jaw, and lanky auburn hair that framed a pale but attractive
face otherwise undistinguished except for the eyes.  Those were dark
and intelligent, with fine brows that arched high -- all but hidden
behind large-lens glasses.  Someone needed to take her shopping for
contacts.  She was the kind of girl who, if dressed right, might be a
knockout, but if dressed wrong -- as now -- looked merely big and
awkward and a little too flushed from the wine she'd had with dinner.

After the meal, Xavier suggested that Jean go settle herself in, and
then invited me to stay for our usual hour or two at puzzles.  I
hadn't expected that.  I'd expected Jean to have his entire
attention, but I'm sure he read my jealousy as clearly as she had,
and was trying to reassure me.  So I stayed and she departed with
Hank (and Warren) to settle in.  The professor suggested we start my
new puzzle although there was one still incomplete on his table.  The
point was subtle, but I took his meaning all the same.  We said
almost nothing while we set out the puzzle pieces, a few stray
comments on the meal, the weather, and the New Year's Gala to which
he'd been invited and was taking me the evening after next.  I even
had a nice new suit.  Cut my hair, clean me up, and take out the
earrings, and one couldn't tell what I'd been less than a year ago.

"Do I really have to go?" I asked the professor now.

"Of course not, Scott."  He set aside the puzzle box and began the
task of separating out the edge pieces.  "I simply hate to leave you
home all by yourself on New Year's Eve."

I sighed.  Truth was, I didn't want to be left home, either, but I'd
never been to a fancy party where I wasn't the entertainment.
Turning to look at me, Xavier laid a hand gently on mine.  I
flinched, but I didn't pull away.  "You won't be there alone.  Hank
may be on call, but Warren will be there, and Jean, as well.  I
wouldn't abandon you to your own devices."

I wasn't entirely reassured.  My friendship with Warren remained a
bit frayed at the edges, and I knew Jean not at all, but I said,
"Okay."





"War?"

He turned at the sound of my voice.  The lines of his evening jacket
lay perfectly, even with the wing rack beneath, but when one plunked
down a couple thousand pounds for a hand-made suit from Benson and
Clegg on Piccadilly in London, that was what one expected.  He was
straightening his cuffs -- white against the dark fabric of the
jacket -- and he smiled.  "What's up?

Feeling supremely stupid, I held up my necktie.  I'd never learned to
tie one.  In fact, I hadn't worn a suit like this in my life.  It
felt restricting but . . . respectable.  And I liked that.

Without comment, he came over to slip the tie out of my hands, a
slick draw of silk across my palm.  The tie was deep maroon to offset
the charcoal black of the suit fabric.  I could walk down Wall Street
in this and not draw a second glance, which was quite a step up from
the glances I'd drawn in Alphabet City in the Village.

"Raise your chin," he said, deftly turning up my collar to slip the
tie around it.  "I confess, I've never understood the rationale
behind hanging our own noose around our necks, but what can I say?
It's the fashion.  It's not too hard to do, either.  The trick is
getting both pieces roughly the same length.  I'll show you later,
but it amounts to a slip knot."  He spoke as he worked, either to
distract me from the necessity of his touch, however impersonal, or
to make me feel less foolish, or both.  Finished, he turned back down
the collar and patted me lightly on the chest, right over the tie.

I grinned; I couldn't help it.  "Do I look okay?"

"You look *fantastic*."

Uttered in another tone, or with a less open smile, it would've been
a come-on, but Warren had always shown a remarkable ability to be
wholly straightforward.  He meant exactly what he said; no more, no
less.  He could play games of innuendo, but preferred to avoid them.
It was why I'd felt so drawn to him from the outset.  As astonishing
as it seemed to me, Xavier had been right.  Warren liked me for me --
plain and simple.  This was, I thought, the way it ought to be, this
was what ‘normal' felt like, and he'd always have my loyalty for
teaching me friendship.  I'd force myself past my own discomfort,
because Warren had earned it.

"Let's go find the lady," he said now, double-checking his own tie in
the mirror.

Following him out, I asked, "What do you think of her?"

"Who?  Jean?"

"No, the fucking housecat!  Come on, who'd you think I meant?"

His smile and sideways glance were sly.  "I think Jean is very nice.
And I think you're jealous."

"I am not."

"Yes, you are."

"I am not, dammit!  It's just . . . she waltzes in here after being
off at school for months, and takes over the whole fucking place!
Little Miss Perfect."

"Nope.  You're not jealous in the least."

"Blow it out your asshole."

He laughed, then sobered.  "She's not perfect, Scott -- not any more
than I am.  She just wants people to like her, so she does her best
to be what she isn't.  I understand that."

I pondered his words as we arrived downstairs in the foyer where the
professor and Jean were already waiting.  For once, a woman had
beaten the men ready, and I'd been correct in my earlier evaluation.
Dress her right and she was a statuesque knockout, but that
assessment was entirely clinical.  At a visceral level, I remained
unmoved.  Warren, however, was susceptible to a spangly evening gown
and artfully applied makeup.  He swung either way.

"Miss Grey," he said, offering her an arm.

"Mr. Worthington," she replied with a smile, and took it.

I rolled my eyes where neither could see.  *Tsk, tsk,* the professor
said into my head.

We took two cars to the party.  Warren wanted to drive himself, and
Jean opted to ride with him.  I rode with Xavier in the Rolls.  The
very idea that I was sitting in a vehicle like this, chauffeured to
fancy party dressed in a suit by Armani, still blew my mind.  "I feel
like Cinderella," I muttered.

Xavier smiled from the seat beside mine.  "I trust our transportation
won't revert to a pumpkin at midnight, or we shall have a long, cold
trip back home."  Then he added, "You look very nice, you know."
Embarrassed but pleased, I shrugged.

When we arrived at the mansion where the party was underway, I
discovered that if clothes didn't quite make the man, they had a
moderate shot at re-making him.  However much I might have felt like
an impostor, no one else reacted to me as such.  It was the most
bizarre experience of my life to date -- far stranger than saving
angels from rooftops or living in a household where one resident
crossed rooms on the ceiling, another could move the furniture
without touching it, a third molted on the carpet, and the master of
it all could call us to dinner without uttering a word.

"It's a pleasure to have you, Mr. Summers."  "What a handsome and
polite young man."  "So glad Charles brought such nice young people."

No one asked, "Who let in the whore?"  Astonishing.  I was Eliza
Doolittle with a penis.

So I wandered about, either with the others or by myself, sometimes
pausing to glance in reflective surfaces to see if my mask were
slipping yet.  But all I saw looking back at me was a well-dressed
teenaged boy on the cusp of manhood.  "Seem what you would be," I
muttered to myself, "and be what you would seem."

This was *me*.  This was Scott Summers.  I *wasn't* a whore.  I
wasn't a charity case.  I was a sixteen-year-old in a suit with a
plate full of hors d'oeuvres.  I was a student, a friend.  I was the
eldest son of an air force pilot, an orphan, yes, but not alone.  I
had a future, if I wanted it.

I could redefine myself.  That, I decided, was my New Year's
resolution.  I would make myself into someone new.

I found I was grinning.

"Hey."  The greeting startled me, and the hand on my shoulder
startled me even more, but I controlled my flinch and turned to find
Jean Grey.  "Admiring your reflection, Narcissus?  You do look pretty
sharp tonight, I admit."

It was said with humor, not venom, and here, now, I couldn't summon
the animosity to resent her.  "No, actually, I was thinking about
something else.  Just -- you know -- staring off into space."

She grinned.  Her hand was still on my shoulder, and I didn't move
away.  "Yeah, I do that, too.  Usually when I'm bored to tears.
That's what I came to ask, in fact -- you wanna get out of here?"

I blinked.  "The professor's ready to leave?"  It was barely
ten-thirty in the evening.

"No, no, I meant just us.  You, me, Warren."

Confused, I asked, "Why?"

"Well, um . . . Charles means well, but, um, this is the blue-hair
convention."

Taken by surprise, I glanced around.  The entire setting was so far
beyond anything I was used to, the elderly composition of the
guest-list honestly hadn't registered with me.  "I don't mind," I
said.  And I didn't.  They'd accepted me, and I'd enjoyed visiting
with some of them.

But Jean rolled her eyes and slipped an arm through mine, tugging me
away with a familiarity that only Mariana had ever earned before.  "I
swear, you're sixteen going on forty, Scott.  Let's go do something
more *fun*."

"And leave the professor?"  The idea of abandoning him bothered me
deeply.

She glanced over.  "Who do you think suggested we take you along?  We
weren't sure you wanted to go, but Charles said we should ask you."

In truth, this felt more like an abduction than an inquiry, but I
went along with it.  "Okay, I guess.  Let me tell him goodbye, at
least."

"Go ahead; he was in the drawing room, last I saw.  Warren and I will
meet you at the Porsche."

So I wound through the crowd seeking the drawing room without any
idea of what I was looking for.  What did a drawing room look like?
I finally broke down and asked someone, and was steered in the right
direction.  I found the professor just as Jean had said, having
brandy and a pipe by the fireplace with several other men his own
age.  "Scott," he said, upon seeing me.  "Did Jean find you?"

"Yes, sir."  Being in this place sharpened my manners from the ‘yeah'
I might have given under other circumstances.  "But I wanted to see
you first."

Sensing my uncertainty, he smiled and made a shooing motion.  "You
aren't required to stay here.  Go have fun with Jean and Warren."

"Kids getting bored?" one of the other men asked.  He had a shock of
white hair and a long face, and reminded me -- just vaguely -- of the
man in the silver jaguar who'd first sent me to Xavier.

"A little," Xavier replied with a smile, then glanced back at me.
"Go on, Scott.  Have a good time."  In my head, he said, *Keep an eye
on them.*  I nodded.

So I went out of that fancy mansion on New Year's Eve a different
person than I'd gone in, and with a new responsibility.  'Keep an eye
on them.'  At the time, the irony didn't occur to me that I, the
youngest, had been placed in the role of guardian.  It simply fit, as
snug as my suit jacket.

---

Continued directly in part 2


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Continued directly from Part 1....
-----

Outside, I paused to light a cigarette.  I hadn't wanted to smoke in
someone's nice house, but I needed the nicotine to calm me and was
finishing it as I reached Warren's gold Boxster.  I noted Jean's
wrinkled nose, and dropped the butt on asphalt, crushing it out
before getting into the back seat.  "So where are we going?" I asked.

"Anywhere but here," Jean said from her place at shotgun as Warren
slipped behind the wheel.  I eyed him, to judge his sobriety, but he
seemed all right.

"Actually," he said, starting the engine, "I want to go somewhere
I've never been, do something I've never done."

"What?  Visit Wal-Mart?"

Warren laughed at that.  "Believe it or not, I've been to Wal-Mart.
And an A&P, too."  He turned in the seat to look at me.  "You know
how to bowl?"

"Well . . . yeah," I replied cautiously.  "You don't?"

"Nope."

I shook my head.  The mental image of Warren in rented bowling shoes
and a hand-made British suit was ludicrous.  But I liked it.  "Jean
-- you know any bowling alleys in Westchester?"

She scrunched up her nose in thought, like a pensive rabbit.  "New
Roc City in New Rochelle?  It's not just a bowling alley, it's sort
of an indoor boardwalk.  They even have ice-skating."

"Perfect," Warren said, and threw the car in gear.

And it was perfect.  Plebian entertainment with upper class
pretensions and strung white lights above a brick street,
cotton-candy-colored neon billboards, and wall-to-wall people.  We
stood out in our nice evening clothes, but not too much.  There were
Goths and Geeks, Grunge and Preps, and everything in between.  Jean
hooked her arms through Warren's and mine, and dragged us past
arcades and restaurants and shops, directly to the neon-blacklit
bowling alley.  "Here it is."

Warren was still looking back up the sidewalk.  "Was that laser tag?
I want to go play laser tag."

"We can visit the fun house later," Jean said, and pushed the door
open, hauling him inside.

So under purple neon, I taught Warren to bowl, as he'd once taught me
to golf -- taught them both to bowl, really.  It took us a while to
find a ball with holes small enough for Jean's slender fingers.  She
had to doff her heels to put on the shoes, and that made her sequined
dress drag the floor, and Warren looked very silly in a dark suit and
two-toned bowling shoes.  So did I, for that matter.

It didn't matter.  We had fun.  Most of Warren's balls went down the
gutter, and too many of Jean's went backwards, flung off her fingers
in the wrong direction by the weight.  After a while, we started
calling "Fore!" when she'd step up to take her turn.  She made faces
at us.  I beat them both -- twice -- even though they played as a
team against me.  We ate generic, greasy pizza and toasted the new
year with coke.  Jean gave us both a kiss -- on the cheek only, but I
was charmed.  Later, we went down to the arcade to play laser tag,
which was laughable in suits and Jean's evening dress.  We wound up
tangled on the floor at one point like puppies, laughing so hard we
couldn't even sit up.

It was the first time in a very long time that I could remember
enjoying myself so purely, and all without chemical assistance.  By
the time we left, it was three in the morning, and Jean had an arm
around both of our waists . . . and it was okay.  I didn't mind.
That was the birth of the Three Mutant Musketeers, as Jean dubbed us.
  I protested that I wasn't a mutant, but she just looked at me with
half-lidded amusement.  "You knock Cerebro off the scale, Scott, and
I've seen the DNA tests Henry ran on you.  You're a mutant."

"So why haven't I manifested any ‘talent' then?"

"I don't know; maybe you have and we just haven't figured out what it
is yet."

"Maybe he's going to be latent," Warren said.

"Maybe," Jean agreed.  "But I doubt it.  We don't blow Cerebro's
gasket, War.  I've never seen anyone except Charles himself affect
Cerebro's readouts like Scott does."

I didn't reply, but her words troubled me deeply, in part because the
professor had never told me this.  Once, I would've attributed
sinister motives to that concealment, but I'd learned since to trust
-- at least to a point -- and was willing to grant Xavier the benefit
of the doubt.  Maybe he'd just been afraid to alarm me.

And what did it mean, what she'd said?  That I sent Cerebro off the
scale?  What did that make me?

Dangerous, maybe.  It put a damper on my frivolous mood.  To make
matters worse, we were caught in traffic on the way home, even at
that early-morning hour, due to a pile-up on the highway involving a
semi and at least three cars.  Both lanes were blocked for almost
half an hour as they brought in helicopters and emergency vehicles.
Eventually, we were able to move forward and get past the site of the
accident, marked off by pink flares in the dark.  A morbid curiosity
made us stare as we crawled solemnly by.  One car lay upside down and
another had the roof peeled back like the top of a sardine tin.  I
wondered what the people in those cars had been doing just before the
impact.  Had they been laughing like we had earlier?  Had they been
happy?  Had they made New Year's resolutions that would go
unfulfilled now?

Death and life were a mystery.  One year dies and a new one is born.
An old life crumbles and a new one rises.  I leaned back against the
rear seat and thought about my own promises to myself, my
resolutions, and the games I'd been playing about the state of my own
health.  'Don't ask, don't tell.'  Was it futile to remake yourself
when you carried the seeds of your own destruction in your blood?
I'd never escape my old life, not entirely, and I probably wouldn't
see thirty.

But I wanted to live.  *"I want more life.  I can't help myself, I
do."*  The words from that play, ANGELS IN AMERICA, spun around
inside my skull.  Could I make whatever time I had left be enough?
Could I have enough life?  And I was suddenly fed up with my own
attempts to avoid what I already knew.  Wasn't part of living facing
the truth?

When we returned, the professor was up waiting, worried, but he could
see that we were all as sober as priests.  "There was a big
accident," Warren said, face tired as he jiggled his keys.  "The cops
shut down the highway for a while, to bring in the medical choppers.
I know -- we should have called.  Sorry.  We just didn't think about
it."

Xavier nodded, accepting that, though he clearly wasn't happy with
us.  "You're safe.  That's what matters.  Go to bed, children."  So
we did, but the sun was rising on a new year by the time I laid my
head on my pillow.

When I rose, it was already after noon.  I showered, dressed, then
hung up the suit I'd left spread across a chair the night before.
The jacket smelled faintly still of body odor, cigarettes and cotton
candy, greasy pizza and Jean's perfume.  Dry cleaning was in order,
but part of me regretted the need.  These were the scents of my own
awakening.  I wasn't numb anymore.

Shutting the closet door, I went down to find the professor, or
better yet, Hank.  I figured that he'd be back from the hospital by
now, and he was.  I located him in the kitchen, eating a bowl of
cereal and looking exhausted.  No one else was in the room.  Getting
coffee, I seated myself across from him at the eat-in table.  "Good
morning," he said, but his heart wasn't in it.

"You look dead beat."

"I am.  We had four trauma calls last night, one right after the
other, the worst at the end.  Decapitation.  Seven teenagers in one
car.  Apparently, it spun out of control, crossed the median, and
went under a semi trailer -- peeling the top right off, and six heads
with it.  The only one to survive was a girl who'd been lying down
across laps in the backseat."

"We saw it."

His head jerked up.  "What?"

"Not the accident, but the cars -- yeah.  On the way back from New
Rochelle last night.  The accident had traffic backed up for miles.
By the time we got up there, the ambulances were all gone, but the
cars weren't.  There were at least two others, plus the truck."

He nodded.  "The chief car struck another, and yet a third car
slammed into the back of the semi when the driver put on the brakes
suddenly.  There were two other fatalities, and several serious
injuries.  The truck driver walked away."  He shook his head.  "I was
never made to deal with this sort of thing, Scott.  Give me a problem
to solve, but don't give me a body to patch up that is past repair."

His big hands were shaking, and seeing the normally irrepressible
Hank so distraught moved me.  Reaching out spontaneously, I offered
him my own hand to grip.  He did so, studying my face in surprise.
"Thank you."

"You're welcome."  And given his evening, I was reluctant to ask him
my next question, although it was why I'd come looking for him in the
first place.  It was time to stop avoiding the issue.  "Hank, I need
to know -- am I HIV positive?"

Sitting back, he released my hand and his face went still.  "What
brought this up?"

"I'm tired of playing ostrich."

His eyes held mine for a full minute, then he nodded.  "Yes, you
are."

It was a dull blow, one I'd been prepared for, but a blow
nonetheless.  Until a fact is confirmed, there's always a fraction of
doubt.  Of hope.

"But," Hank went on, "you're showing no signs of developing AIDS, or
even ARC.  You may never develop it.  We still don't entirely
understand the virus, Scott."

I nodded.  I knew all that.  "Can you give me anything preventive for
it?"

"I already have been.  What do you think those drug cocktails are
that I feed you periodically?"

And I nodded again.  I suppose I'd suspected that as well, but I
simply hadn't asked questions.  "I need to know something else.  Jean
told me you've done a DNA scan on me."  He eyed me, then nodded.
"And she says I have the X-gene."

"You do."

"So why hasn't it manifested?  Don't most mutants manifest by my
age?"

"Many do, yes.  But it's all very new.  There's a lot that we don't
fully understand yet."

"But I am a mutant."

"Genetically speaking, you are a mutant."

Standing, I pushed in my chair.  "Thank you."  And after pouring
fresh coffee, I headed out.

"Scott -- " Hank called behind me.  I glanced back.  "That is all you
wanted to know?"

"Yeah, that's all.  Go get some sleep, Monkey Toes.  And thanks."

My next objective was Xavier himself, but before I found him, I
stumbled over Jean and Warren in the den, watching football.  "Hey --
the dead walk," Warren said without turning to look at me, but he was
grinning.

I didn't reply, but did decide that Xavier could wait, and entered to
join them.  Jean scooted over, making room for me on the couch even
though there were empty chairs for me to take.  Even a week before,
I'd have taken a chair.  Now, I sat down beside her, Warren on her
other side.  "What are we watching?"

"Rose Bowl," Warren answered.  "Northwestern versus Southern Cal.
Second quarter; Southern Cal is winning."  Despite his thoroughly
blue-blood background, Warren took college football seriously.  I
could've cared less myself, but I liked sitting here with them, doing
what other Americans did on New Year's Day.  The easiness we'd
learned together the night before was still evident the morning
after, and the restless jealousy that I'd felt for Jean ever since
her arrival seemed to have vanished like a morning fog burned off by
the heat of the rising sun.  I'd learned to like her last night -- to
like her a lot, in fact.  Everyone else at the mansion but Jean was
aware of what I'd been before, and I needed to know that she couldn't
guess, that it wasn't obvious, that I wasn't branded.  I could start
over with primary colors.

Oddly, my cell phone rang at that very moment.  I'd forgotten that I
was even carrying it, much less that I'd turned it on.  Warren and
Jean both glanced at me in curiosity and I shrugged, pulling it out
and opening it to say, "Hello?"

But the line hummed silent.  "Fine," I said after ten breaths.  "I
didn't want to talk to you either."  And shutting the phone, I turned
it off, leaving it on the end table.

So we all sat together to watch the Rose Bowl, and ordered pizza
delivery from a local Domino's.  Hank had no doubt gone to bed, but
the professor joined us at halftime.  I glanced at him when he
entered -- a measuring look.  He didn't respond to that immediately,
but after the topping choices for the pizza had been settled on, he
sent into my head, *You wished to speak with me?*

*Yeah, I do,* I sent back.  *But not now.  Right now, I want . . .
this.  I want to watch football with my friends and eat pizza.*

And I could feel his pleasure at that.  *By all means, Scott.  Happy
New Year.*

After the game was over, however, Xavier and I left while Warren and
Jean watched endgame commentary, and Xavier took me up to his own
bedroom suite.  Once, I might have made certain assumptions, and
panicked, but not now.  It was early evening, and inside, he offered
me a seat by the burning fireplace, in a big pine-green wing chair,
and set about making tea on the lowboy under a window.  Outside, I
could see the reflected glow from the Christmas lights that Hank and
I had strung early in December.  Not elegant white, but bright and
multi-hued.  "White is so dull and predictable," Xavier had said,
"and Christmas is all about brilliance."

So we'd strung the whole mansion with old-style, large-bulb light
sets in shades of red and blue, green and orange.  "It looks like a
Chinese whore-house," I'd told Hank later.  But I liked the colors.
Brilliance, indeed.  And there was nothing about this place even
remotely like a whore-house.  I ought to know.

When the tea was done, he brought me a cup -- ever gracious.  It was
fixed with milk and sugar the way I liked it, and one reason that I'd
come to trust Charles Xavier was because he served me, like Jesus
washing the feet of his disciples.  I was a human being to him,
worthy of respect, and there were days I wanted to cry for that.
"Thank you," I said now.

"You're quite welcome," he told me.  "And feel free to smoke, Scott.
Not in the rest of the mansion, but these are my rooms, and I don't
always feel like going outside for a pipe."

I smiled at that.  "Maybe I should take up the pipe instead of
cigarettes."

"Maybe you should."

I laughed.  I'd been joking, but somehow, the idea lodged in my head.
  Shaking out a cigarette, I lit it, then held it straight up to stare
at the burning tip.  An ugly habit.  Jean had never said as much last
night, but I'd been able to read the thought clearly in her face, and
it suddenly mattered to me.  Even Warren didn't smoke much.  It was
just me.  Nicotine, coffee and chocolate.  My addictions.

"There are worse things," Xavier said, obviously having followed
that.  "It's the same molecule, you know, rotated -- caffeine and
nicotine."

"It is?"

"Indeed."

Raising the cigarette to my lips, I took a drag, then crushed it out
in the ashtray on the end table.  It left a dark streak on clear
glass.  Xavier watched me.

"What is troubling you, Scott?"

"Jean said I send Cerebro off the scale.  And Hank says I'm a mutant.
  Genetically, anyway.  Why didn't you tell me all this shit?"

"I did."

I glanced up.  "When?"

"I've told you this since you first arrived.  I never concealed the
fact that you were a mutant.  It was you who were unready to hear."

I pondered that.  He was right.  From my very first day in
Westchester, he'd said I was like them, but I hadn't believed him.
"You didn't tell me I sent Cerebro off the scale, though."

"Scott, consider this logically -- if you were resisting the
knowledge that you were a mutant of any type, do you think you would
have believed me if I'd told you that you were one of the most
powerful mutants I've ever encountered?"

He had a point, and I snorted, still staring at the streak of ash in
the ashtray.  "So what does that mean?  Sending Cerebro off the
scale?"

"Not quite off the scale," he corrected lightly.  "But you are a very
high-level alpha mutant.  More than that, I can't say, since we're
not entirely sure what your mutation is.  All that Hank and I can
determine, at this point, is that it will be of the physical variety,
instead of the psychic."

"You mean I'm going to change.  Like Hank, or Warren."

"Perhaps; perhaps not.  And how, we aren't sure.  We think your
mutation involves your ocular nerves -- your eyes.  But frankly, even
now, Henry is unable to get a clear reading of anything above your
jaw in X-Rays, or even in CAT scans."  His grin was faint.  "Whatever
your body does, Scott, our equipment doesn't seem to like it."

"But I am a mutant."

"You most certainly are."

And this time, I believed.  I think I wanted to believe, in fact.  I
*wanted* to be like them, these people who'd adopted me as their own.
  But I still wasn't.  "What if my power *never* manifests?" I asked.
"I mean, Warren said something about me being 'latent.'  What if
that's all it is?  What if I never get any powers?"

Would they make me leave?

Bending forward in his chair, Xavier clasped his hands between his
knees, and caught and held my eyes.  "It doesn't matter, Scott.  This
is your home.  Even if you didn't carry the genetic code, this would
still be your home.  You will always have a place here.  Always."

And that broke me.  After all these years, after living tenuously in
foster homes and surviving on the street, the word 'home' had an
almost mythic power that was difficult to convey.  *Home.*  I was
home.  This was my family.  I *belonged*.

Hiding my face in my hands, I wept, and I could hear the squeak-grind
of Xavier's chair as he moved it up next to my seat, then his hand
fell on my head, stroking my hair.  "Be my father," I choked out.
"Please be my father."  It sounded pathetic and small, but it rose
from a grand canyon of loneliness.  All I wanted was to be loved.
"Be my father."

I felt his arm go around my shoulders to pull me in.  Eyes still
squeezed shut, I slid off the seat to lay my head in his lap.  *Not
flesh of my flesh, not bone of my bone, but still miraculously my
own*, he said into my mind.  "I'll never have a son," he whispered
aloud, hand still stroking my hair.  "But if I could, I'd want him to
be just like you."

----

Feedback is always appreciated.

#7 in "Special" will be "Diamonds in the Rough."

(When will it be out?  I have no idea.)



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That was supposed to be sent to the next person on my cnotact list  Oy....

Sorry about that.

Autumn





>"What's the point of fighting for his right to have babies when he can't
>have babies!?"
>
>"It is symbolic of our fight against opression!"
>
>"It's symbolic of his struggle against reality."
>-The Life of Bryan
>
>
>_________________________________________________________________
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*******************************
"What's the point of fighting for his right to have babies when he can't
have babies!?"

"It is symbolic of our fight against opression!"

"It's symbolic of his struggle against reality."
-The Life of Bryan


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Title: Stay
Author: Victoria P. [victoria_p@...]
Summary: "She had to know."
Series: Cross Purposes (the first two stories can be found here:
http://www.unfitforsociety.net/musesfool/crosspurposes.htm)
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: All X-Men characters belong to Marvel and Fox; this piece of
fan-written fiction intends no infringement on any copyrights.
Archive: Lists, Muse's Fool
Feedback: Always welcome in all variations.
Notes: Thanks Dot, Meg, Jen, and Pete/Melissa. This is the last story in
the Cross Purposes trilogy, following "Just My Imagination" and "Waiting
in Vain"

~*~

Stay

She found him easily enough. She didn't have to ask twice about the
Wolverine. Everyone she met in Calgary had a story to tell.

They were only too happy to point her toward the old warehouse that had
been converted into a bar for the Stampede, a place for illegal cage
fighting to take place after hours.

She waited in her motel room until midnight, then took a cab to the
outskirts of town. The warehouses all looked the same in the dark --
dirty and dangerous. She was almost ready to give up when she spotted a
group of rough-looking men in cowboy hats heading down an alley. She
heard music and crowd noise, and sighed in relief. She wasn't looking
forward to this confrontation. Or she was, but was afraid that it
wouldn't turn out the way she hoped, and then she'd have traveled three
thousand just to get rejected.

It was a lowering thought, and her mood was not improved by the stares
and catcalls directed her way upon her entrance into the makeshift bar.

She slid onto one of the barstools and accepted the bottle of Molson the
bartender put in front of her without asking.

"You got a bet, honey?" he asked, giving her the once-over.

"A hundred on Wolverine," she said, and slid the money across the bar.

He nodded. "All the ladies like him."

Rogue said nothing; she had already turned toward the cage.

"A little uppity, ain't ya?"

She kept her eyes on the cage, and her hood up, even though it was July.

"No." Her hand tightened around the neck of the bottle. The bartender
receded from her consciousness as Logan climbed into the ring.

She caught her breath, remembering the first time she'd seem him,
shirtless, prowling the cage like he owned it. He might as well have. He
never lost.

She shivered, anticipation tinged with fear. She'd crossed the continent
to see him, to find out what, if anything, he felt for her. She'd
believed for so long that he'd been in love with Jean, that she herself
had only been an obligation. Everyone thought she was crazy for breaking
up with Remy and chasing after the ghost of an adolescent dream; she'd
spent the five-hour flight wondering the same thing.

But she had to know.

So she sat, clutching her beer, and waited.

***

Logan wasn't psychic, but his skin prickled with something more than
anticipation of the upcoming fight as he paced the cage. He shook his
head as if to clear it as the emcee led the challenger into the ring.
The guy was short, and almost as wide as he was tall. His gut hung over
the belt of his jeans, and the sickly sweet stench of pot and beer
wafted off him.

Logan sighed internally. It was going to be difficult to make this one
look like a real fight, and the take would probably be minimal. Not that
it mattered. He'd made a shitload of money over the weekend. He wouldn't
have to fight again for a while.

Absently absorbing punches from his opponent, he contemplated heading
back to Alkali Lake to see if he could pick up the trail of his past.
He'd nearly convinced himself that he'd missed something the first time
around when he saw her.

The hood of her cloak had fallen back to reveal the two white streaks in
her hair, stark and luminous in the smoky depths of the bar. She drank
from a bottle, head tipped back, emphasizing the sleek line of her long,
white neck.

He ended the farce of a fight with two punches, laying the guy out on
the floor with an uppercut to the jaw. The crowd roared and money
changed hands across the bar.

He stalked out of the cage, eyes locked on Rogue, who straightened
suddenly, as if aware she'd been spotted. He ignored the fight fans
offering congratulations and drinks, and the women offering lewd
come-ons.

Rogue's presence here could mean only one thing, and he wasn't going to
blink and discover she'd been a hallucination. She smiled hesitantly
when he reached her, and he could smell her anxiety.

He took the beer from her loose grip and finished it in one long
swallow; then his hand closed around her gloved wrist. He could feel the
warmth of her flesh and the delicacy of her bones. She was real and she
was here, and he wasn't letting her out of his sight.

"Come on."

He led her through the bar, the crowd parting naturally to let them
through. The catcalls and comments died a quick death when Logan growled
and bared his teeth. The room where they ended up had functioned as an
office when the warehouse had been a warehouse, instead of an illicit
bar.

Rogue perched on the edge of the rickety old desk while Logan pulled his
shirt and jacket on.

Finally, he said, "Does this mean what I think it means?"

"I don't know. What do you think it means?"

He let loose a low growl and she smiled. "You tell me," he said.

She got to her feet and tossed her head. "I didn't travel three thousand
miles to play games, Logan."

"This is no game."

She took a deep breath. "If you want me, I'll stay. If you don't, I'll
head back to New York in the morning."

He could hear her heart racing, belying the calm with which she'd
spoken, and the steady way she met his eyes. He reached out a hand and
stopped just short of her lips, his fingers so close to her skin that
her warm breath brushed over his knuckles.

"Stay," he said, his voice hoarse. Just in case she hadn't heard the
first time, he said again, "Stay."

She smiled, then, and it lit the dingy room. She exhaled in relief.
"Okay."

They walked out into the night hand in hand. He felt the need to touch
her constantly, to reassure himself she wasn't a figment of his
imagination, that she was really there, and she wanted to be with him.

When they reached her motel room, they made love -- fiercely the first
time; he wanted the feel her pressed against him, bury himself deep
inside her to prove to himself she was real. The second time was slow
and tender -- loving -- and he was secure in the knowledge that she
loved him, as much as he loved her.

When they were done, he held her close, content to breathe her in.

"I can't believe this is real," she murmured as she drifted off to
sleep. "I waited so long for this."

"Me, too," he whispered, kissing her temple carefully. "Me too."

fin

***

victoria

--

CJ: "You wanna make out with me right now, don't you?"
Toby: "When don't I?"
The West Wing

--

The Muse's Fool - http://www.unfitforsociety.net/musesfool
read my diary: http://musesfool.diaryland.com

The Easy Way
By Nadja Lee                                     03/09/02

English is not my native language. Please forgive me my mistakes.

Disclaimer: “X-men” and all the characters here belong to Marvel, 20 Century Fox
and I intend no infringement, this is a piece of amateur fan fiction, and I make
no money of it.

Only the original idea contained within this work is the property of the author.
Please do not copy this story to any website or archive without permission of
the author.

Timeline: Set in the movie universe/AU. Within/After the movie

Universe: Set in the movie universe; NOT the book which goes with it.

Romance: Logan/Rogue, very mild Scott/Jean and Scott/Logan (friendship)

Summary: What if Scott had followed Logan out to his bike? What would they have
said to each other and who would have left and who would have stayed?

Archiving: Want, ASK, take,  have.

Feedback: Yes, please. My e-mail address is nadjalee2000@...

Rating: PG-13

Sequel/series: None

Author’s Notes: The Logan in this story has a brain and can think and act like a
normal, intelligent human. If you don’t like him like this then I guess you
better not read this *G*

The peanut butter mention is in honour and memory of Bani; always remembered and
always missed.

Thanks to Karen for the Beta and suggestions.



*                    *                    *



“Logan, wait up,” a voice called after him, footsteps running to catch up with
him. Logan had hoped it was Rogue, but the voice was familiarly masculine.
Feeling frustrated enough Logan decided to ignore the other man and kept walking
away from the mansion. He reached the garage and saw Scott’s bike stood outside,
with the key in the ignition.

“It’s for you,” a voice said from behind him and Logan turned around to see
Scott had caught up with him. It irritated him that Scott was so unpredictable
to him; his face was almost always unreadable, his eyes always covered, his
voice rarely raised in intensity and he had only smelt fear on him one time and
that was in the Statue’s torch where he had been reluctant to open his eyes for
fear of harming Jean.

  “Why?” Logan asked suspiciously. It wasn’t that he hated Scott, far from it as
they had also worked together to get Rogue back, agreeing on disagreeing but
that didn’t mean he didn’t understand that everything had a price.

“Because you helped us,” Scott explained and patted the seat of his motorcycle
lovingly. It was clear to Logan that he cared deeply for the bike; he had most
likely put the modifications into it himself.

“Rogue was in danger,” Logan simply said before he could catch himself. Just
what was is about her that made her the answer to every question? What was the
growing power she was having over him? He had been so careful not to get
attached before, not to belong anywhere and yet with a smile and a cry for help
she had changed all that. The question that disturbed him even more to ask was
why was he running again? The very same question she had asked. His past had
waited years, it could wait some more or he could have easily gotten one of the
X-men to fly him back and forth in just a few days. No, his past was not the
reason he was running…she was. The key question was why? He wasn’t sure if he
wanted to know.

“She means a lot to you, doesn’t she?” Scott asked with an insight Logan hadn’t
given him credit for. Scott stopped his fingering with the bike and looked
directly at Logan. Logan’s first thought was to lie or to joke about it but
something in Scott’s tone of voice made him reconsider. However the need to
protect himself and his feelings won out in the end.



“She’s just a kid,” he said with a ‘who cares’ shrug. Scott’s lips formed a thin
line and Logan was sure his eyes were hard and angry. Oh, well…it was none of
his damn business and Logan didn’t care what Scott thought anyway!

“If that’s all she means to you then you don’t deserve her,” he said tightly and
turned to go. Logan grabbed hold of his sleeve, stopping him from returning to
the mansion.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Logan demanded angrily. Scott tore his arm
free.

“Oh, don’t give me that. Even you can’t be THAT clueless!” he snapped.

“Hey!” Logan protested but Scott ignored him.

“She loves you, though for the life of me right now I can’t imagine why!” Scott
spat and began to walk again but again Logan stopped him.

“Love….what do you mean she loves me? She can’t love me!” Logan protested, not
knowing what he wanted yet needing a specific answer all the same. She couldn’t
love him. Have a crush on him ~ maybe ~ after all, Jeannie had told him she was
‘taken with him’, but love? No, that was too much to hope for. Hope? Why would
he hope for her love? He had been right what he had told Scott; she was just a
kid….right?

“It should be pretty clear what I mean,” Scott gave back but then took pity when
he saw Logan’s confused eyes. “The smile she gives you, the looks, the
trust……doesn’t ring a bell?”

“Yeah….well…it’s just gratitude,” Logan mumbled. That was all it was, all it
would ever be. Why did that thought make him so sad?
”Will you snap out of it? You don’t do ‘I’m not worthy’ very well,” Scott said
with a sigh.

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” Logan exploded until his brain caught up with his mouth.
“Worthy of what?”

“Oh, dear Lord give me strength…” Scott mumbled. “Okay, let me lay it out for
you then. She loves you and she wants you. The only question here is what do you
want?” With his hands he pointed to the left to the mansion to symbolize Rogue
and straight ahead towards the road to indicate Logan’s quest.

“She can’t love me,” Logan mumbled. She couldn’t…could she? Did it matter? Was
the sun suddenly shining a little brighter and the birds singing a little
louder?

“Look, I’m growing tired of this. What do you want?” Scott asked as his patience
was running out.

“I need to leave,” Logan answered almost automatically and went to Scott’s bike
and got on it, ready to drive away after he had placed his bags on it. He had to
go, everything was getting so damn complicated now.

“You don’t need to go anywhere,” Scott protested and stood before the bike,
holding both hands on the handlebars.

“Let go,” Logan turned the handlebars back and forth. Scott didn’t let go.

“No.”

“Let go!” Logan turned the wheel sharply to the right and Scott’s left hand got
slammed into the garage wall, making him redraw his hands and hold his injured
hand up before his eyes for inspection. It was just a bruise and some minor cuts
but some blood was beginning to seep forth.

“God damn it!” Scott swore. “This is the last time I do anything for her,” he
mumbled as he shook his injured hand. Then he starred angrily at Logan and went
to stand beside him and indicated the road in front of him.

“Then go. I was right; you don’t deserve her,” he said angrily.

Not knowing whom he was angrier with, Scott or himself, Logan got ready to start
the bike.

“You always did pick the easy way anyway,” Scott taunted as Logan went to turn
the key. That made his hand freeze. He did not take the easy way; he wasn’t a
coward. Seeing he had hit a nerve Scott went on.
”It’s easy for you to run, to be alone. No concerns, no responsibility and no
one to take care of but yourself,” his voice got softer as he continued. “But
here you’ve got a beautiful young woman thrown into your arms who seems to think
you’re the best thing since peanut butter….”

Logan grunted at that, knowing of Scott’s love for bread with peanut butter.

“…and she gives you everything and waits patiently for you to wake up and come
to your senses!” Scott spread his hands out in frustration. “Why is it so hard
for you to stay? To be a part of something? To have a responsibility for someone
besides yourself?” His voice was a bit softer now though still puzzled.

“I don’t trust anyone but myself,” Logan said but the words were without the
normal conviction.

“You trusted her with your life. Why can’t you trust her with your heart?” Scott
asked, trying for a kinder tone.

Logan didn’t say anything, just looked thoughtful.

“Because you risk your life so often…but give your heart so rarely?” Scott
suddenly said with that damn insight of his that Logan was beginning to see
would be his undoing. But Logan didn’t go down without a fight.

“Yeah well…..why is it so damn hard for you to let go?” Logan gave back, looking
Scott in the eyes.

“What do you mean?” his tone was guarded now. And they call me paranoid, Logan
thought.

“What I just said. Why do you choose the easy way?”
”Hey, I’m not the one running here,” Scott protested and threw his hands up in a
‘no’ gesture.

“Exactly,” Logan said and Scott looked puzzled at him. “It’s easy for you to
stay. You’re afraid to let go, be alone with your thoughts and feelings….being
forced to rethink your life and where you’re heading. You’re afraid of what
you’ll find out about yourself,” Logan accused. Scott backed away from him.

“No,” he denied but the small hint of fear Logan smelled on him told him he was
right.

“How about we make a deal then?” Logan suggested, a devilish smile playing over
his lips. The Wolverine didn’t lose and wouldn’t lose today either!
”What kind of deal?” Scot asked suspiciously. Oh, I’m gonna enjoy this, Logan
thought.

“Well, you want me to do the right thing…..” Logan began.

“I want Rogue to be happy,” Scott interrupted, having a feeling that the words
‘the right thing’ from Logan’s mouth could only mean trouble.

  “So, you want me to do the noble thing and stay, right?” Logan pressed. Scott
considered his words but couldn’t see the catch.

“Yes,” he admitted.

“Okay,” Logan said and Scott looked surprised at him.

“You’ll stay?”

“I’ll stay and see if I can’t get used to being a part of something, if not I
can get this to work. I only want her to be happy as well,” Logan admitted and
Scott smiled, thinking he had won.

“Great,” he turned to go towards the mansion. Logan was quickly off the bike and
stopped Scott.

“No, no. Not that fast.”

Scott looked questionable at him.

“I stay….IF you leave,” he insisted. Scott moved away from him.

“You hate me THAT much that I have to leave for you to stay?!” Scott asked
disbelieving. Logan shook his head.

“No, not like that, you dick,” he protested though the humour in his voice
softened the harsh words and Scott couldn’t help but smile at that.

“Then like what?” Scott insisted.

“You go look up those people Xavier talked about,” he said and quickly continued
as he saw Scott was about to say something. “No, do it alone and without the
Blackbird. It should take you three or four weeks. Then come back…or not.
Whatever you’ve decided YOU want,” Logan explained.

“But what of the school? The professor? Jean?” Scott protested. He couldn’t
leave without explaining. What would Jean think? He needed to tell her; she
needed to understand he wasn’t running away or abandoning her just like that.

*I understand, Scott, * a soft voice spoke in his mind through the telepathic
link he shared with Jean.

*Jean! You know Logan asked me to help him? * Scott asked her in his mind,
hoping she’ll understand.

*Yes, I understand it all. I saw it in your mind. I sensed your conflict and
wanted to make sure you were all right. It’s all right. Go on. Take all the time
you need; you deserve some time for yourself. I’ll wait for you, * she promised
and he could ‘feel’ her smile at him.

*I love you, * he sent with all his heart, a smile on his lips.

*I love you too. I’ll cut our connection now and give you some privacy while
you’re away. Take care of yourself,* she asked and he sent all his love towards
her through the link.

* I will. You take care as well,* he asked and again he felt her smile before
she closed the connection. He felt at peace now, knowing she was okay with
it….knowing she understood.

  “Everything won’t fall apart without you and I’ll explain to them that you
chose to help me out. Besides if you love Jeannie enough you’ll be back but I
think she’ll understand if you need some time alone,” Logan explained, totally
ignorant of Jean and Scott’s telepathic talk and had guided Scott over to his
bike and Scott got on it, no longer in doubt now that he had talked with Jean.

“Use my bags on the trip. A change of style wouldn’t hurt one bit,” Logan
teased, giving Scott’s clothes a meaning look. Scott smiled and got ready to
turn on the engine.

“I can’t promise I won’t come back after three weeks. I can’t promise I’ll find
anything…about your past or…about myself,” he admitted, his voice sober.

“I can’t promise I’ll stay but I’ll give it a try,” Logan said and Scott turned
on the engine.

“I’ll call you as soon as I have some info,” Scott said and raised his voice to
be heard over the engine.

“No need to yell. Super-hearing, remember?” Logan protested, his hands covering
his ears.

“Oh, yeah,” Scott said sheepishly, his tone softer now and Logan took his hands
down.

“Never mind. You take care of yourself or the Prof and Jeannie’ll have my hide,”
Logan said and reached out his hand to him, wondering if he’ll accept it since
he himself had ignored Scott’s friendly greeting when he had first met the other
man.

“I will. You take care of Rogue and the school,” Scott asked as he accepted
Logan’s hand and shook it. Logan grinned as Scott put on his helmet and began to
speed away.

“I will,” Logan said but Scott was already out of hearing range. When Scott
reached the big gates to the school he turned around one time to look at Logan
standing there looking after him before he turned left and sped away.

“Mr. Summers? Scott? Did you get him to stay?” Rogue asked as she came around
the corner and almost collapsed against Logan. He smiled warmly down to her and
she blushed over the loving look in his eyes.

“Yeah…I recon he did,” Logan said softly and she smiled happily.



The End

I was just wondering, are there any X-Men Movie story sights
that DON"T have Logan paired up with this particular version of Rogue?
I am not a Rogue/Logan basher, but at the same time, I am not a
shipper of them,either.
I was just wondering if there was a sight that had moderate pairings
of them.

Title: Help is Bright Green
Author: Sascha
email: lady_sascha@...
website: http://www.tentative.net/sascha/wmf/

Note: Many thanks to Maelie for the spellcheck, and my apologies for
taking forever before posting this part. I'm trying, honestly. ;)
Feedback would tickle me pink. :)



Chapter 11



I took one look at my room and decided that I wanted to stay there
forever. If this place had room service, possibly longer. Rick and Iz
had disappeared down the hall, Izzy looking for a room which had a
mirror in the ceiling (I didn't want to know why), Jana was wandering
about looking for ice and I had no idea where the others had gone.

At the moment, I didn't care either.

This was a lovely, lovely room.

I beamed at it.

There were lots of oak furniture, red cloth and the bookshelf of my
dreams. It looked as though it might look better with some things
haphazardly spread around. I dropped down in the couch and beamed
some more.

I could go for being on the run if it got me rooms like this.

I looked around, looking for a window, and spotting none. I frowned.
Okay, slight drawback. But I could live with it. I looked around some
more. Bedroom. Yes. Must check bedroom.

I got up and wandered over to the bedroom door and opened it. I
blinked. "Oh. My."

Jesus. Tiger stripes. Black. Silk.

Oh my.

When Rick and Iz saw this, they were going to die.

Of laughter.

I closed the door. How the heck was I going to be able to sleep in
there?

I shook my head. Well, I'd find a way. If I managed to sleep on
cement floors, I could manage to sleep in... that...

Now. Food.

Where was there food?

Kitchen.

Okay. Where was the kitchen?

I regarded my room thoughtfully and wondered if I should brave the
hallways. I hadn't paid attention to where we were going when Rogue
were showing us our rooms, so I had some serious doubts as to me
being able to find anything at all, except possibly the lift
mechanics room. However, since my stomach was going 'feeeeeeed
meeeeee. feeeeeeeed meeeee', I decided to at least give it a shot.

I did wish for some breadcrumbs though.


* * *

I found the control room.

I knew it was the control room by the number of screens on the wall
and the amount of people going "sector 4 security breach. No,
disregard that. It was a rabbit." and "Team Delta reporting in,
nothing new, they're continuing on to Tango Four Gaia."

I took a step forth to ask someone where the kitchen/cantina/whatever-
as-long-as-it's-got-food was and promptly tripped over a wire.

A voice raised in alarm, "Commander, my screen's gone black!"

"What?!" The dark-haired woman that was apparently the commander
whipped around and stalked over to the man in front of the now black
screen.

"I don't know what happened, suddenly it was just..."

I got on my feet, blushing dark green. "Um. Eh. Look, I just...
tripped. Um." I held the wire up for them to see. "I didn't mean
to..."

"Who are you?" The commander asked, looking suspicious.

"Alex. Olsen. I came with, uh, some Xavier kids?" I pointed at the
door as though Rogue was standing there, ready to confirm my story.

The commander sighed. "Why am I not surprised? Let me guess, you're
looking for food?"

I nodded.

The commander looked around. "Sek, show Mr. Olsen to the cantina too."

"But...!" Sek said.

The commander gave her a look.

Sek sighed and got up of her chair. "Yes, ma'am."

Sek stalked ahead of me to the cantina, opening the door for me and
then disappearing almost before I'd had the time to enter the room.
The first people I saw were Jake and Remy sitting by a long table,
building a tower out of salt shakers and ketchup bottles.

"You can't put the pepper there," Remy said patiently. "You'll make
the whole thing fall down."

"Will not."

"Will too."

"Will not." Jake put the pepper where he wanted to put it.

Half the tower collapsed.

Remy smirked.

"Don't. Say it."

"I. Told. You. So," Remy said slowly, pronouncing each word perfectly.

"Fucker."

"Is that an offer?"

Jake whacked him over the head. "No. No offense, but ewwww."

"Thanks so very much."

  Jake shrugged. "It is ewww, Don't tell me you don't think it's ew."

  Remy turned his head to look adoringly at him.

Jake frowned back.

  Remy continued staring at him.

"You... don't think it's ew?" Jake was starting to look worried. I
could see he was starting to buy into Remy's `you're my long lost
love' act.

  Remy continued looking at him, expressionless.

Jake really looked worried now. Then he gave a gasp of outrage and
whacked Remy hard over the head. "Son of a bitch, don't do that to
me, man! You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

Remy laughed, ducking his head and rubbing it.

I shook my head at them and went to find some food.

Hee. They had tiny little butter thingies. And jam thingies. How very
cool. I beamed at the things, spread them out on pieces of toast and
ate it.

* * *

"AlexAlexAlex!" Izzy fell into my room, looking panicked. "We've
trouble. Or not us. But them. Lots of it. Come on!"

I came.

The them in trouble were our Canada bound friends. Apparently they'd
been too slow and had been picked up by the military. Xavier's people
were working on a rescue now. Izzy, Rick, Jana and I alternately
wandered around and looking at people working, and working ourselves
into worry-fits.

Probably quite distracting and annoying, but none of us considered
that at the time. And even if we had, I don't think we would've
cared.

Eventually, Rogue came and showed us into a different room. It had a
huge view screen on one wall, various computer equipment, small
tables and chairs. It was all very black, for some reason.

"Here," she said, making a `wheel of fortune' gesture. "You can stay
here and watch, if you like. Probably won't see much, though. Doop's
out there with a camera, but he can't risk being seen. You'll get the
headset talk as well, if you like."

"Yeah, yeah, yes. I want to know... I want to hear what's going on,"
Iz nodded quickly.

Rogue nodded. "I'll tell Sek. She'll fix it for you." She turned to
walk out, and stopped in the doorway. "There's a small snack bar in
the wall over there. Just press the yellow button." She smiled
carefully and left.

"I cannot begin to describe how much this sucks," I sighed, walking
over to the snack bar. There were several buttons in a nice elevator-
like row on the wall. Blue, red, purple, green… I pressed only the
yellow. One of the others might only cause a minor catastrophy, but
even a minor would be one too many right now.

"Zzkrzzt… U-go Girl reporting in."

We all turned to look at the screen. It showed nothing.

"The headsets…" Jana muttered, walking over to me to pick up a pack
of peanuts.

"Dead Girl reporting."

"Orphan reporting. Enemy in sight."

"Vivisector reporting. Following the Orphan in."

"Phat reporting."

"This is the commander to all points. First team in position. Second
team, move in."

There was a five minute pause.

"Spike reporting. Second team alpha in place."

"Succubus reporting. Second team delta in place."

Another pause.

"The Commander to Ant. Come in."

A slight pause.

"Ant reporting. Second team beta in place. Ready, commander."

"The commander to all points. You have a go. Repeat, you have a go."

There was a long silence.

I was nibbling my nails nervously. Rick was running his fingers
through Izzy's hair. Izzy was tapping with his fingers on one of the
table. Jana was eating peanuts. She was on her fifth pack when the
silence was broken again.

"Dead Girl to base. Got the target. Moving out."

"The Commander to U-Go Girl. Did you get that?"

"U-Go Girl to base. Got it."

We waited.

It took forever before we heard something next. Or so it felt. The
watch on my wrist seemed to believe it only took a few minutes, but
it surly had to be malfunctioning.

"Calm? I'll give you calm, you fucking - Rick? What are you doing
here?" Gally's anger turned to puzzled anger upon seeing Rick. "We
thought you were cross border. Didn't make it either?"

"No. Road blocks. You know."

Iz bounced out of the chair and rushed towards Gally. "You! You okay?
The others? You know anything? Sure you're okay?" He had a worried
frown on his face and the only reason he wasn't all over Galynne
making sure she was all right, was that Galynne would probably deck
him if he tried.

Gally growled. "Of course I'm fine. I'm very fucking fine, as a
matter of fact, and I don't know how the others are because some
redheaded little tart swished me out of there before I had a chance
to see how the fuck they were!"

I took a step back. She wasn't happy. I didn't like being in the
close proximity of her when she wasn't happy. She had claws.

Jana didn't care about claws. She jumped Gally and babbled. Gally
blinked a couple of times, then carefully shoved Jana off and away.
She brushed herself down and gave a little cat-ish shiver, before
looking up and at the black screens. "So. What's happening?"


* * *

I feel asleep before the operation was finished. I really tried to
stay awake, you know. I really was worried, but... Turned out I was
dead tired as well. The whole rescue mission took two hours from
start to finish, and I was high strung on worry the whole time. If
anybody ever told you that waiting was the hardest thing to do, they
weren't kidding.

We had only a small idea of what was going on, due to listening in on
the conversations between the commander and the people in the field
and the overview video feed Doop (whoever that might be) was giving
us, but we could not interfere in any way.

Nearly drove Izzy completely crazy.

Inactivity is not his thing, especially not when his friends are in
danger. As far as I know, none of his friends have ever been in quite
this much danger, but everything is possible, I suppose. I don't know
every friend he's ever had.

Hm. Wonder if he considers Trish Tilby a friend?

Maybe not. He's not the type to consider his boss his friend. But
perhaps a big sister? Someone deeply annoying, whom you still feel
warmly about.

Rick was alternating between trying to calm Iz down and stealing
peanuts from Jana. Jana finished all the peanuts, then turned into a
bat and went around roosting in people's hair. I paced and chewed my
nails.

Galynne stayed with us for a while, but couldn't cope with the
passive waiting and went to see if she could talk someone into
sending her back.

Then Montgomery and Moric showed up and told us what had happened in
more detail. Getting anything out of Gally without her ranting and
meowing angrily turned out to be an impossible task, so I'd quickly
abandoned that idea.

Moric explained how they'd been caught on the border. The military
had made the van drive through some sort of DNA scanner, and upon
registering the X-gene present in the persons in the van, had simply
confiscated it and placed the people in it in arrest.

Monty's eloquence in law had been completely wasted, as those who'd
actually bothered listening had simply replied; "Martial law" and
then ignored him. Montgomery had been furious.

They had split the group up. Which was also the reason it was taking
the X-Men so long to find them all and bring them to safety.

Since Gally wasn't talking (at least not coherently), we had no idea
what had happened to her, but Montgomery said that nothing at all had
happened to them. They'd just been tossed in a cell and apparently
forgotten about. They had been fed a couple of times, and that was
it.

We waited again.

Then Cassie was brought in.

It damn near broke us all, and Jana shapeshifted into a snake in
distress.

"She needs medical attention, you fuckers, why'd you bring her for?"
Izzy hissed, fists tightly in Rick's shirt.

The redhead supporting Cassie so she could stand straight-ish glared
back. "You think this was my idea? She insisted. There was no talking
to her."

Rick and I brought her to the surgery, where Dr. Reyes was waiting,
intimidating as always.

We sat down to wait. And I feel asleep.

I woke an hour later. Dr. Reyes shook me awake and told me that
Cassie was doing fine. Unconscious due to sleep meds, but otherwise
good. Dr. Reyes then sent me back to the room with the screens were
the others were still cooped up.

* * *

"What's the story?"

"We don't know yet. Who are still missing?"

"Ellis. And Stace and Ron."

"Thank you. I'll send it on." Rogue hesitated. "I just... The
situation is becoming quite... What I mean, is." She took a deep
breath. "They have to pull out soon."

We stared at her.

"Even if they haven't found them yet?" Montgomery asked, deeply
worried.

Rogue looked uncomfortable. "I think so, yes."

"But they can't do that!" Izzy exploded a second after Rogue had
left. "They're heroes, or what the fuck, they can't go leaving them!
Who knows what'll happen to them? It would probably be worse than
what Cassie's been through! They can't!"

"They can't be expected to kill themselves in the attempt, though,"
Rick pointed out. He looked down at the empty glass in his hand,
blinked a little, then absently filled it with water while looking
Iz, who was pacing.

Iz scowled. "Of course they fucking can. Didn't you hear me? They're
heroes! It's what they do!"

After a few minutes of tense silence, Iz threw his hands in the air,
said he was going to check on Cassie and went away, still scowling
with a vengeance.

Moric came back from the bathroom and looked around. "All right.
What's happened?"

Montgomery told him.

Moric blinked a few times, then gathered himself up. "Oh no no no.
That's not going to happen. If they think that, they've got another
think coming. Who's in change of this place and where is he? I'm
going to _explain_ a few things to him." The light in his eyes was
quite disturbing.

I took a discrete step away from him.

Jana pondered for a bit, then shrugged and morphed into a wolf.
Another disturbing sight. Jana-Wolf padded over to Moric, bit his
trouser leg and pulled him towards the door. "Oh good," Moric said,
beaming at the wolf. "You can show me the way. That animorph thing is
quite handy sometimes, isn't it?"

Montgomery glanced over at Rick and I, shrugged and followed Moric
and Jana-Wolf.

I looked over at Rick.

Rick looked back.


* * *

"They're pulling out. The fuckers are pulling out." Moric looked and
sounded defeated. He walked in to the room, and headed straight for
the bar, Montgomery at his heels. Montgomery appeared to have aged
several decades in the last thirty minutes.  Never thought I'd
experience that saying being true.

"What?" Rick stared. I joined him. They couldn't just leave Ellis,
Stace and Ron. Could they?

"Something about casualty rate being unacceptable." Montgomery rubbed
his nose and held his hand there for a moment. He sighed. "They can't
risk losing people, apparently."

"The fuckers," Moric added.

"So they're pulling out."

Moric gave Montgomery a glass of something alcohol-y and grabbed one
for himself. They both tipped it down at the same time. Monty gave
the glass back to Moric. "More."

"Yeah."

"But Ellis, Stace... Ron?" I asked. Horror was definitely
approaching. Big time.

"They're fucked," Moric said.

At that point, Ellis and Ron limped in.

We stared at them.

"Take a photo, it'll last longer," Ron snapped, cradling his left arm
awkwardly with his right.

Montgomery gradually started to look less dead. "They said they were
leaving you," he said to his brother.

Ellis nodded. "Yeah. Well. We found them at the last possible
minute." He looked around, hopefully. "Stace?"

Montgomery slowly shook his head.

Ellis closed his eyes. "I was afraid of that. No possibility of
convincing them to go back for her, I suppose?"

"We tried," Moric said. Apologizing. "We can keep on trying. Maybe..."

"No. No..." Ellis looked down at his hands. "Lose the battle, win the
war," he said quietly, trying to convince himself. "I'll find her
somehow. With or without help."

* * *

Iz came in to the room, wild-eyed and heaving. He dragged Rick with
him and they both disappeared for hours.

*  * *

I went back to my room and slept.

Title: Burying the Dead
Author: Victoria P. [victoria_p@...]
Summary: Friends help you move. Real friends help you move bodies.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All X-Men characters belong to Marvel and Fox; this piece of
fan-written fiction intends no infringement on any copyrights.
Archive: Lists, Muse's Fool
Feedback: Ça va sans dire.
Notes: Thanks to Jen, Pete/Melissa, Dot, and Meg. Inspired by a Tony-Janice
scene in last Sunday's "The Sopranos."  Draw your own conclusions.

***

Burying the Dead

"I had control, Logan. I swear I had control." She took a deep breath, tried to
calm down. Her palm was hot and sweaty against the cool plastic of the phone.

"It's okay, baby," he said soothingly. "Where are you?"

"Uh--" she closed her eyes tight and let the guy's memories surface.
"Sixty-sixth and Third. Apartment 4E. I'll tell the doorman."

"Jesus, a doorman?"

"I didn't," her voice dropped to a whisper. "I didn't mean it."

"I know, baby. It's all right. I'll be right there. *Don't* tell the doorman."
She heard the click as he broke the connection.

She surveyed the scene. Her latest boyfriend, one Roger Jones, was laid out on
the bed, his tanned skin waxy and ashen against the rich emerald of the
comforter, and his dark eyes open and staring blindly at the ceiling.

Rogue forced herself to take deep breaths. She'd had control. She'd perfected
it. It wasn't like the other times -- she shivered and shook her head. Best not
to think of that.

Logan was coming. Logan would clean it up. Logan would make it all better.

He was still keeping his promise to take care of her, and she loved him all the
more for it.

She pulled her clothes and gloves on, occasionally stealing glances at the bed.
"He's not going anywhere," she told herself. She wondered if this time, she
should just call the police, tell them he'd had a heart attack in bed.

No, that wouldn't work. He was young, healthy, the starting second baseman on
his company softball team.

Shit.

With shaking hands, she wiped down every surface she could recall touching, and
a few she knew she hadn't.

She could hear Logan's voice in her head, "No prints -- that's the first rule."
Also, no hair and no fibers.

She found the dust buster under the sink and was vacuuming the sheets when a
tap on the window made her jump.

Pushing back the window guard and peering out, she saw the gleam of Logan's
teeth in the darkness.

She opened the window and he climbed through, a black, canvas bag in his hand.
He wore black karate pants, a black turtleneck and soft, black leather gloves.

"Oh, thank God."

Logan raised an eyebrow. "Where is he?"

"The bedroom." He stalked through the one doorway in the small apartment, Rogue
hard on his heels.

He looked at the body on the bed, still fully clothed. "Didn't get very far,
did you?"

"Logan!"

"I'm just saying--"

"Don't."

He heaved a sigh and said, "Why don't you just call it in anonymously? He had a
heart attack during sex, you got scared and ran--"

It was funny how their minds ran along the same track. She licked her lips,
unsure. "I--"

"Who knows you were dating?"

"You. Jubes and Kitty. Maybe Scott and-- Shit. Jean introduced us. She's bound
to know--" She could feel herself beginning to hyperventilate.

"Jeannie's not going to know," Logan said, grabbing her shoulders. "And even if
she did figure it out, she wouldn't say anything."

"But, but--"

"No one's asked about the last three, have they?"

She winced. She hadn't meant to kill them. Her control was just a little spotty
when she was excited.

"Sorry," he murmured.

"No, no. You're right."

When she'd discovered, after years of meditation and research, a way to control
her skin, no one had been happier for her than Logan.

Until she'd broken up with him because of it.

It wasn't that she didn't love him. She did. In fact, she sometimes thought she
loved him too much, which was why she'd had to let him go. She was afraid he'd
stay with her forever, just out of his sense of obligation, and she didn't want
that. She wanted him to *want* her, not to feel sorry for her, because she
couldn't touch and nobody wanted her.

So, as soon as she was able, she set him free.

He hadn't seemed upset, which made her think she'd done the right thing. After
all, he could have anyone he wanted, and in those first few weeks after the
break-up, she was sure he had. He'd gone out every night and not come back
until dawn, looking as drunk and haggard as his mutation would allow.

Hiding her irrational hurt over his response -- wasn't that what she *wanted*?
For him to be happy? -- she'd begun dating a guy she'd met at a local pub.

And then, the first time they'd tried to have sex, she'd killed him with her
skin.

Hysterical, she'd called Logan, who calmly and efficiently disposed of the
body. She hadn't asked where he'd taken it, and he hadn't volunteered any
information.

Twice more over the last six months they'd repeated the scenario, and Roger
made four notches on her bedpost, she thought, somewhat hysterically.

Each time she was sure that her control would hold, but it hadn't yet.

She wasn't sure it ever would, no matter how much she kept telling herself she
could do it. And she wasn't sure she could take any more accidents, though
Logan's rock-solid presence whenever she was in trouble made it a little easier
to bear the deaths on her hands.

"He didn't do drugs, did he?" Logan asked hopefully, his voice bringing her
back to the situation at hand.

She shook her head. "No."

"Damn. I've got some coke we could have left, made it look like an overdose."
He sighed again, and ran a hand through his hair. "Okay, heart attack it is."
She nodded. Technically, it was true. She'd sucked the life out of him until
his heart had seized up. "Did the doorman see you?"

"Yeah, I-- we told him it was our one-month anniversary when we came in."

"Jesus, Rogue, whatever happened to discretion? Keeping your mouth shut? Not
letting people into your business? Haven't you learned anything?"

She closed her eyes and leaned back, sliding down the wall until she was
seated, and put her arms around her legs.

He knelt next to her. "I'm sorry. I just --" He sat back on his haunches and
stroked her cheek with one gloved hand. She could feel his warmth and strength
through the supple leather. "Why'd you leave me?"

She blinked.

"I, I--" She swallowed hard against the hysteria threatening to overwhelm her.
"I thought you wanted to be free. You know -- stay out 'til four a.m., see
other women... I didn't want your pity, and once I could touch, I didn't need
it."

"Pity." His voice was hard and disgusted. He shook his head and rose in one
fluid motion, turning his back to her.

She closed and opened her mouth, the enormity of her mistake hitting her all at
once.

"Oh, God."

She ran for the bathroom and vomited.

He was right behind her; he held her hair back so it didn't get in her way. He
wiped her clammy forehead gently and handed her his hip flask when she was
done.

The whisky burned going down, but it overpowered the taste of bile and settled
her nerves a little.

He ran his thumb over her lower lip, and she found herself mesmerized by the
green and gold depths of his eyes. She swayed toward him almost imperceptibly,
but he shook his head.

"Let's take care of your friend, first."

She shook her head, suddenly knowing what to do. "Let the dead bury the dead."

He stared at her for a moment, then nodded once, decisively.

They went over the apartment one last time, removing all traces of their
presence, before he helped her out the window and down the fire escape.

On the street, she found a working payphone a few blocks away, and dialed 911.

"The guy in apartment 4E isn't moving," she said. "I think he had a heart
attack." She clarified the address and hung up before the dispatcher could ask
her any other questions.

When she was done, she slid onto the motorcycle behind Logan, and wrapped
herself around him, pressing her face to his back and inhaling deeply.

She understood now, that this was where she belonged.

end

***

victoria

--

The Muse's Fool: http://www.unfitforsociety.net/musesfool
read my diary: http://musesfool.diaryland.com

*  Disclaimer in Part One *


Logan's suspicions about the four new additions to the mansion only
increased over time.  He grew more and more snarly towards Jonathan
Slytherin and he tried to keep a watchful eye on the three kids as
well.  The two boys he didn't give much thought too, he didn't feel
the need.  The girl stumped him. There was something different about
her, but if she were a friend of Rogue's, he'd get to like her.
Marie didn't have as many friends as she should, so anybody that got
close to her had to be a decent person.  Or that's what Logan told
himself anyway.  The new teacher was just a dick though, plain and
simple. Speaking of the devil…

Logan stalked into the room without a glance at the Englishman and
loudly began making coffee.  "Do you really have to be so loud at
such a mundane task?"

"Don't like it get out."

"You Americans and you're coffee."

"I happen to be from Canada."

"So what.  You were colonized, you have no real national defense and
you're money's worth a third less.  Not exactly something to be proud
of now is it."  Snape said and continued drinking his tea.

"We never lost 13 fuckin' colonies."

"That's because-"

"Boys, are we done playing my country is better than yours?" Jean
smirked.

Logan left the room leaving Snape and Jean together.

"So Jonathan, I've heard quite a bit about you."

"Nothing good I expect."

"Charles speaks very highly of you, but the kids are terrified of
you.  Maybe you could ease up a bit?"

"My teaching style is nobody's business but my own.  Though I've
heard you're not exactly at the top of the list either."  Without
another word he picked up his tea and glided out of the room.

Jean shook her head, "You try and be nice to someone and they shit
all over you."





1:00 PM

Self Defense  Class
********************

Harry, Ron and Hermione had quickly learned that physical education
was taken as seriously as chemistry, mathematics and English at this
particular institute of higher learning. Every day from 1 to 2:30,
the Wolverine owned them.  His classes were tough and he allowed no
slack.  Even Harry and Ron took it seriously.  Luckily for them,
nobody expected any of them to be up to par with defense techniques
and battle strategies, particularly when it was Logan's brand of
teaching.
  	 They were split up into different pairs all over the
gymnasium.  Rogue was paired with Logan and generally called upon to
demonstrate, she was clearly the best fighter in the class.  The
three new kids hung back at first, just  watching their classmates
pummel go at each other. It reminded them of a wizard's duel, there
were so many ways to counter the blows as there were to block
unfriendly hexes. As few kids actually landed a punch, it appeared
that Logan had taught them well.
	 "Scarsdale, you're with Drake, Jubilee, take Redding."  Logan
directed the kids.

	 "Mia, you're with Rogue." he said as he lightly squeezed the
latter's shoulder.  "Go easy on her kid." he then paced off around
the room, stopping a pair and redirecting them every so often.

	 Hermione looked apprehensive as she approached her
partner.  "It's okay, I won't touch you."  Rogue assured her.
	 "It's not that, it's I've never fought in my life!" she said
with a note of panic. Slapping Draco Malfoy across the face in her
third year didn't really count as fighting in her book.
	 Rogue grinned, "It's alright Mia, it really isn't very hard.
Looks worse than it is. Defense is mostly anticipation of what the
offense is going to do.  Offense is simply tricking the defense into
thinking what you want them too."
	 "Yeah, that sounds really simple." Hermione said
sarcastically.
	 "You'll do fine Mia, I promise"
	 Hermione was less than sure of that, but nonetheless gave in
and allowed Rogue to teach her the basics.

	 It soon became evident that none of the three had ever really
involved in anything more than a schoolyard brawl.  By the end of the
lesson Ron and Harry had numerous bruises and a few minor cuts
between all of them.  Hermione came out sore but nonetheless
unscathed.
	 "Sensible, Scarsdale, and Redding  meet me back here tonight
at  7:00"  Logan told the three after the others left.

*********

"Wonderful, we either have detention with Snape or, extra self
defense class with Logan"
Ron said as they waltzed out of the gym that night.

"Who's Snape?" a silky voice said from behind startling them all.

"Don't you knock or something?" Harry asked irritably.

"Oh I would Mr. Scarsdale, but alas, there is no door." Snape
sneered.

"I would advise you too keep our cover.  Don't let your tongues slip
again."

"Can we go now? We promise we've seen the error of our ways and vow
to never error in that way again!" Ron said.

"I need the three of you to meet me in the library at midnight, we
have a lot of work to do and not much time to do it."

"We'll be there," Hermione said quietly.

"Good." Severus met her eyes and stared an instant too long before
looking away and retreating.

"I thought that Quidditch practice on top of homework was bad.  But
homework and research?"  Harry whined.

"It's Hermione's favorite thing." Ron pointed out

"Well Ron, you did say she was barking mad, and well she is."

"Shut up both of you" Hermione said acidly.   "One of you find out
whose going to be patrolling the halls tonight, if it's Logan we'll
never make it too the library."

"And miss all that quality time with Snape. Wouldn't that be a bloody
shame."

"Oh piss off." Hermione said and strode quickly down the hallway to
no doubt work on homework.

*****

At 10:00 which was lights out and bed check, Ron knocked on
Hermione's room and informed her that Logan would be patrolling the
halls once again. After being marked present and accounted for, the
boys snuck into her room and the three began planning a strategy to
somehow sneak around Logan.

"All this to get into a library?  Remind you of the old days eh?"
Harry said in a cheerful mood.

"Hang on a minute, I've got an idea" the words were barely out of her
mouth before she burst from the room.  She returned soon enough with
a grin on her face.  "Logan's out of our hair, so no worries.  Now I
suggest we get some rest before we have to go out again."


  **********



"The cloak is no use Harry, I've told you this before" Hermione
argued with the boy.

"Well, Logan will see us and we won't get to the library at all
then."

"Logan can smell if we're there anyway, we'll lead him straight to
the library, which we don't need to do."

"She's right Harry."

"How are we going to get past Logan then?  He can see everything!"

"Just trust me!"

"Alright, let's go."  said Harry.

Without further setback the three set out for the library.  As
predicted they ran into Logan two corridors away.  "Any reason you
three are out of bed, sneaking around?" the cold voice of the
Wolverine rang out.
"Um, we-"
"This is the result of school bed check is it? Perhaps they better
let someone who actually knows how to count conduct such things."
Severus Snape swept around the corner.
 	 The tension in the air positively crackled.  "Butt out
Slytherin. When your opinion means anything I'll let you know."
	 Right on cue a high-pitched shriek could be heard down the
hall.  "Marie" Logan uttered softly before bolting down the hallway,
wayward students forgotten.  Hermione had a smug look on her
face.  "What did you tell her?"
"Just a little something between girls" she said mischievously and
flounced off towards the library.
   	 The three males gave her retreating back a puzzled look and
followed her for a long night of research.  If they didn't find
something soon, no magic in the world would be enough to stop the
haglets.  A world full of brainwashed muggles was worse than facing
Voldermont in the young wizards collective opinion.  In any case,
seeing Voldermont as the lesser of two evils was a grave situation
indeed. And it was one that nobody wanted to see justified.  They had
to find a solution, they just had to.

http://www.marvel-boards.co.uk

There's a nice bunch of marvel-loving people waiting just for you! Join awesome
RPGs, lively discussions and a caring community! Hope to see you there soon


B'Teena DOL
http://www.catbull.com/adora
He-Man/She-Ra & X-Men lair


[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

songfic: THE WEAKNESS IN ME

language: English is not my native language. Please forgive me my mistakes.
Disclaimer: X-Men doesn't belong to me. 'The weakness in me' also doesn't, it
belongs to Joan Armatrading. Thanks for that wonderful song!

archive: Please ask first, but- of course ;)

Timeline: in/after the X-men movie.
Universe: movieverse only
Romance: Scott/Jean, Jean/Logan
Summary: Listening to the radio while working can be dangerous.
Feedback: will not be just appreciated, but loved, hugged, kissed, petted and
called George *G*
Rating: none

>>>  <<<: This is the song







>>>I'm not the sort of person who falls in and quickly out of love. But to you I
gave my attention right from the start.<<<





Seven years. Seven years by Scott's side, and I didn't even think of another
man? Is that normal? I used to call it true and eternal love. I'm not so sure
anymore.





>>>I have a lover who loves me. How could I break such a heart? Yet still you
gained my attention.<<<





You. Why did you have to come back? Why do you have to stay here? The moment you
entered that door I was lost. and you knew.





>>>Why do you come here when you know I've got troubles in love?<<<





Scott is jealous. Of course he is, he has all reason to be. You're more in my
lab than training with the pupils. Oh, you have an excuse everytime, of course.
One examination after the other. There's nothing I can do for you, but that
doesn't matter. You just want to be near me. And I have no strength to send you
away.





>>>Why do you call me when you know I can't answer the phone?<<<





All those times you've called from Canada. I wouldn't be surprised if Scott told
me he'd listened to our talks to make sure, we don't have telephone sex. He
never trusted you. He has no reason to trust you. And now he has stopped
trusting me.





>>>You make me lie, when I don't want to.<<<





I can't think of any more excuses for your examinations. You never tried to
persuade me to do anything... But how should I explain to the others that we do
nothing but sitting there and talking? That you try to show me that you're not
the wild bastard you seem to be? And that I'm starting to believe?





>>>And you make someone else some kind of an unknowin' fool.<<<





They all know how serious this is. All but Scott, who doesn't want to believe
it. The Professor, 'Ro, Marie. Marie, mostly, because you has told her. She lost
the battle for you the minute you saw me. Not that I would have wanted this. But
I can't help. I can't change your feelings. And I can't change my own, either.





>>>And you make me stay, when I should not.<<<





It would be so easy just to leave off, ask one of the nurses to do the
examinations. But there's the look in your eyes, making me stay everytime.





>>>Are you so strong or is all the weakness in me?<<<





Seven years just- forgotten? Why can't I just delete you from my system?





>>>Why do you come here and pretend to be just passing by?<<<





Last time you followed me. I hate company when I go for a ride. But you even
took some riding lessons just to be able to find me in the woods that day.
Instead of being angry for it I blushed like a teenager.





>>>But I mean to see you, and I mean to hold you. tightly...<<<





From that day on you hunted me in my dreams. For some people dreams are just
crazy imaginations. For me they're mostly nothing but my deepest wishes. I'm
afraid. God, I'm afraid. Seven years. And now all I can think of is wanting to
know how your hair would feel if I touched it.





>>>Feelin' guilty, worried. Waking from tormented sleep. This old love has me
bound, but this new love cuts deep.<<<





Last time I woke up screaming. In that dream I saw myself stabbing Scott from
behind. He held me tight. Asked me, what was up with me. What was I supposed to
tell him? Something like, 'Our love has slipped away on silent wings and I
didn't even realize'?





>>>If I choose now, I'll lose out- one of you has to fall.<<<





I know how much you love me. I know it's more than a crush. I saw it in your
eyes, and I see it in your mind. You gave me trust that you never gave to
anyone. Scott gave me an engagement ring yesterday.





>>>And I need you, and you.<<<





I can't just quit all that we have. We've always been together. But I can't go
on like this, either. With your eyes on my mind in every step I take.





>>>Why do you come here, when you know I've got troubles in love? Why do you
call me when you know I can't answer the phone? You make me lie, when I don't
want to, and you make someone else some kind of an unknowin' fool. And you make
me stay, when I should not. Are you so strong or is all the weakness in me?<<<





"Jeannie?"

"I'm nearly finished, Scott." I turned the volume of my radio down, getting
ready to leave my lab. Only the wet drops on my papers left me realizing that I
was crying. Fast I ran over her face, trying to hide it.





>>>Why do you come here and pretend to be just passing by?<<<





"I heard Logan paid you a visit again."



It was no question. "He has problems with his health. The metal suddenly begins
to hurt." A lie again. I heard my voice trembl.



"Do you want me to leave?" Scott took me in his arms, softly put away my tears.
"All I want from you is to tell me. Stop playing that game with me."





>>>But I mean to see you. And I mean to hold you. tightly.<<<





"I love you", I said quietly. But it was Logan on my mind, Logan in front of me,
when I spoke these words.



And Scott felt it. A short mental pain, like a bee sting, when he closed the
connection, that we had lovingly called 'link'. "Good luck, darling. To. both of
you." He kissed me tenderly and turned around then. "I will always love you,
Jean." He left me alone.



The radio crashed against the wall, thrown by a psychic hand. I collapsed,
crying, sank to the floor.



"Jean, for heaven's sake! What is it?" 'Ro... She must just have passed by the
lab. I felt her arm around my shoulders, her worried sight.



"You know how they say, a horrible end is better than neverending horror?" I
hide my face in my hands.



"I've heard that before", Storm answered quietly.



"They're wrong, my friend. They're unbelievable wrong."



B'Teena DOL
http://www.catbull.com/adora
He-Man/She-Ra & X-Men lair


[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

DISCLAIMER: This story does have some original characters, but the x-
men and the brotherhood belong to marvel and FOX entertainment.
This is for entertainment only. No profit will be made from this
story.
SUMMERY: Well this is my attempt at the movie's sequel.
Rating: NC17 There's gonna be sex in this one but not right away. M/F
F/F (M/M maybe I haven't decided just yet.)
FEEDBACK: Please, please, please!!! adnilnosnhoj@...
ARCHIEVE: Just tell me where, so I can tell my
friends
                                                    Cry For Mercy

Prologue--All of the adults within the x-mansion were thrilled that
for once, they had recruited an adult mutant who had already a
teacher's certificate, and had been teaching for many years.  It made
them doubly thrilled that she accepted the entire department of arts
with open arms.  No longer would Scott have to pretend to like
poetry, Jean would not have to listen to another song sung entirely
off key, and Storm would not bite her tongue because a student just
couldn't remember his lines.
They were all thrilled that is until they met Mercy Jones.
Of all the dangerous perils the x-men had faced together, nothing
could have prepared them for life with this woman.
Mercy Jones was not evil, though some might argue that she was. She
was not a trouble maker though she always managed found herself in
the middle of it.  She never intended to get on everyone's last
nerve, but never-the-less she always did.
What Mercy was, is a free spirit. Having fun was always on the top of
her priories, and so was seeing everyone else have fun.  If it wasn't
fun, it wasn't worth her time.  Laughing, joking, pulling pranks,
making up the oddest excuses to have a party, nothing was too
childish for her. "As long as no one gets hurt…" could have been her
motto.
Maybe all this wouldn't be so hard for the serious x-men to swallow,
but she was incredibly absent minded too!
Lastly, she refused to learn self-defense for fear that she may
actually hurt someone.  "That's the point! You hurt them before
someone hurts you!" Storm argued, but Mercy would not listen to
reason.
In spite of all the rule-bending and sheer lack for self-discipline,
Professor Charles stood behind his decision to bring Mercy to the
mansion in the first place.
"I'm not sure why," he repeatedly told his colleagues, "but I feel
there is a greater purpose for Mercy being here."
                                                      Chapter 1
It was the morning after the Statue of Liberty incident.  Logan went
away to look for answers, Rogue and Bobby were happily playing foos-
ball, Mystique was playing her new role as if she was shooting for an
Oscar, Magneto was in solitary confinement, and Sabretooth was in the
front seat of a stolen van, parked just on the other side of the main
gate to the x-mansion.  He stopped the engine, and got out. He went
to the back of the van, where he pulled out a nearly dead Toad.
Sabretooth then flung Toad over his shoulder and carried him to the
gate. With amazing agility and grace, he cleared the 20'gate in one
leap, and began walking up the driveway to the mansion.
He was wearing only his leather pants, and customized boots. His own
body might be able to repair it's self from the damage of Scott's
blast, but his clothes did not fare so well.
He had no sooner made it up the driveway when he was confronted by
Scott and Storm.  They had not taken the time to dress in uniform.
For a moment or so they stared at each other waiting to see what the
other would do first.
Scott and Storm both noticed how dejected their foe was looking.
Sabretooth was not the great big, mean bad ass bully that strutted
around like a lion on the Savannah.  He looked beaten and lost.
Then finally, Sabretooth swallowed hard and spoke up. "He needs a
doctor."
  Scott and Storm looked at each other with shock.  What on earth
could he be up to now?
With an angry growl, he continued. "`Your Weather Girl there'…" he
nodded his head toward Storm, "…did a half-assed job on Wart.  He
ain't dead yet. So, either take him in, or finish it."
"Why should we?" Storm asked angrily.  She intentionally left out
which one of the given choices she preferred.
"If you promise to take care of Toad, I'll…I'll turn myself self in."
His voice sounded tired and worn. He was giving up.
Scott chuckled. "Yeah, and what jail out there is capable of keeping
you behind bars?"
"Well, maybe for now, jail ain't such a bad place for me." Sabretooth
tried to explain.
About that time, Scott heard the professor's voice within his own
mind. *Scott, I've heard everything Sabretooth said. Tell him if he
wishes for us to tend to Toad, then he must agree to stay here until
arrangements can be made with the proper authorities.  If he accepts
this condition, then bring him to the east door.  Hank and Jean will
be waiting for you there.*
Scott's stomach churned. This was not one of the professor's better
ideas he thought.
"You'll have to stay here, where we can keep an eye on you. We'll let
the feds, or for that matter, anyone else who may want to put you
away for good know that you are here. Understood?"
A humble Sabretooth solemnly nodded his head.
  "All right, you have a deal." Scott told the felinoid. "You first.
I'll tell you where you're going." Scott wasn't about to turn his
back on one of his biggest adversaries.  Sabretooth followed his
instructions and began walking toward the mansion with Toad still
balanced on his shoulder, while Scott and Storm followed close
behind.

Once inside, Sabretooth laid Toad down on the gurney Jean had waiting
for him.  Toad moaned in pain, and suddenly began to gasp for air.
He was a lot worse than he appeared.
Both Jean and Hank, who had been standing close by, began to hurry
Toad into the elevator doors.  When Sabretooth went to follow them,
Scott blocked his path.
Without hesitation, Sabretooth bared his teeth, and began to
ferociously growl. Scott however would not back down.
Suddenly, Charles arrived just in time to see which of the two men
would win the `king of testosterone' match.
From the corner of her eye, Storm could see what the Professor was
thinking.  Hadn't they already been through enough of this macho B.S.
with Logan and Scott?
"Sabretooth," Charles calmly called out his name. "You asked us to
save your associate. Now you need to let Doctors Grey and McCoy do
what they are trained to do."
Sabretooth turned quickly to see the man speaking from the wheel-
chair. He was no longer baring his teeth, but still he growled.
Charles remained calm and listened to the felinoid's growl as if he
were deciphering a foreign language.
A moment later, Charles spoke softly. "I know each of you have taken
an oath when you joined the brotherhood to look out for each other
regardless of what personal sacrifices you would be called upon to
make.
You took that vow seriously enough to bring Mortimer here, and even
offered up your freedom in exchange for your colleague's care.
Even so, you must realize that you are not a welcomed guest here. You
are a dangerous man and you are not free to roam around as you
please."
Sabretooth's growl slowed down to a few spontaneous grunts as he
listened to Charles.
"I'm sure once the authorities are notified that you are here, it
won't take them long to come for you. Until then however, you will
have to remain in our holding tank.
"Can I at least stay with Toad? What if I promise not to kill
anybody?"
"You'll have to do better than that." Charles spoke plainly.
"All right, I promise I won't bother her no more." He rudely pointed
his index finger at Storm with little more than a glance in her
direction.
"If you agree to let me examine your mind, then we will see whether
or not you can be trusted enough to be allowed to stay with your
associate. Mind you, you will still be in a cell, but at least you
won't be alone."
Sabretooth nodded his head.  With that, they all headed towards the
elevator and proceeded down to one of the lower levels of the x
mansion.
Sabretooth glanced over to see Toad was now hooked up to several
monitors, and an I.V. was giving his body much needed fluids. Both
Jean and Hank were checking the monitors and talking about their best
options to save the amphibanoid's life.
`Humph…Now we'll see if Wart's still the cocky little shit when he
wakes up.' Sabretooth thought to himself, as he laid down on a gurney
across the room.
In one night, Sabretooth's entire world had changed around him and
not for the better as far as he was concerned.
He didn't like these surroundings, and he felt himself beginning to
panic.  Then as if on cue, Professor Xavier touched his head and like
a light bulb, Sabretooth was out.  Or so it felt that way to him.
As Charles began to probe the psychopath's mind, his first impression
was he was glad that he had not eaten anything recently.
In his ears Charles could hear the screams of Sabretooth's victims,
their pleas for mercy. He could smell the excrement many of them lost
from sheer fright. He could feel their warm oozing blood seeping from
his own fingertips and taste it in his mouth as his `host' put it to
his lips.
Deeper and deeper Xavier dared to trek into Sabretooth's mind, until
he felt he found the answers he was looking for.
When it was all over, Charles wondered how many baths it would take
him to feel clean again.

Scott Summers paced the floor in front of Professor Xavier's desk
shaking his head in disbelief.  "Please don't take this the wrong way
Professor, but have you lost your mind?"
Charles chuckled. He sympathized with what Scott was feeling. Logan
had rode on Scott's nerves the entire time he was there, and now just
when Scott thought he was going to get a break, this comes up.
"Scott, I know how absurd this idea I'm proposing sounds, but I feel
that in the long run, this is the best way we can deal with this
problem.   Sabretooth is nearly indestructible; you've seen for your
self what kind of punishment his body can take. Turning him over to
someone who is unprepared or unknowledgeable of Sabretooth's –
uniqueness' could prove to be a tragic mistake.  The only reason why
he gave himself up is because he is confident that he can escape from
anywhere, and I'm afraid that he has good reason to believe so.  The
only reason why he isn't acting like a caged animal right now is
because he believes that he can break out from here if he feels the
need to."
"So why is he hanging around?" Scott wondered.
"Sabretooth thinks that Magneto will hold him responsible for their
failure last night. He is afraid of what will happen to him if
Magneto were to escape from his prison."
"So, he isn't even all that concerned for Toad's life either huh?"
"Not as much as he would want us to believe. He's more interested in
keeping himself out of Magneto's reach for now."
"If he stays here," Storm interjected, "where would we keep him?"
Both men knew what she was driving at.  Her biggest concern for the
moment was to keep that felinoid as far away from her as possible.
"He would have to have an escort everywhere he went, and at night he
would have to stay in his room, but other than that he would be
treated like anyone else here. To single him out as a criminal, would
make rehabilitation impossible."
"Rehabilitation!??" Scott couldn't imagine it.
"I know that we are as likely to see me walk out of this chair as we
are to see Victor Creed return to a normal state of mind. However,"
Charles paused, as he tried to describe what he saw in Sabretooth's
head. "In spite of all the anger and hate Sabretooth lives with;
underneath all of that…twisted wreckage that was once a sane mind,
there is still a man of valor and great courage."
"Do you think there really is hope for him?" Storm gently asked.
"There is always hope." Charles reassured her.

DISCLAIMER: This story does have some original characters, but the x-
men and the brotherhood belong to marvel and FOX entertainment.
This is for entertainment only. No profit will be made from this
story.
SUMMERY: Well this is my attempt at the movie's sequel.
Rating: NC17 There's gonna be sex in this one but not right away. M/F
F/F (M/M maybe I haven't decided just yet.)
FEEDBACK: Please, please, please!!! adnilnosnhoj@...
ARCHIEVE: Just tell me where, so I can tell my
friends

Chapter 2                                                         It
was 1:45 in the afternoon when Mercy came out of her bedroom. Her
long burgundy colored hair hung carelessly over her shoulders.  She
was wearing thin wire-frame glasses, face and teeth were unwashed and
she still had on her Garfield pajamas.
  Half-asleep, she stumbled into the kitchen and went to the fridge.
Jubilee was sitting at the table eating an apple when Mercy walked
in. "You're just now getting up!"
"I was up at five this morning." Mercy insisted as she reached in for
the milk. She then walked over to the cabinet to get herself a glass.
"Don't you mean you were up UNTIL five this morning?" Jubilee
devilishly grinned as she clarified her teacher's statement.
Mercy playfully stuck her tongue out at Jube, and gave her a
raspberry to go with it. "Well who could sleep with all the
excitement around here last night?" she defended her actions. "That
makes what? Five times this month they went out and saved the world?"
"Oh you'll get used to it after a while. Pretty soon it's no big deal
to watch the black-bird take off.' Jubilee then saw another grand
opportunity to razz her teacher. "Why don't you go out on a mission
some time?"
"Because those tight little leather suits don't come in size 16.
Besides, what am I going to do? Change my opponent's underwear to
pink?"  Both women started laughing at Mercy's joke when Scott came
in the kitchen, for something to drink. He too went to the fridge,
and began moving things around. He finally found his water bottle,
and went to the table with it. He then popped in his mouth a couple
of aspirin he had been carrying around in his hand.
Both women noticed that Scott was looking rather unhappy about
something, but this didn't stop Jubilee from throwing questions at
him like a baseball pitcher throws balls when there's a scout in the
bleachers.
"Is it true?"
"Is what true?" Scott replied slightly irritated.
"Is it true that last night you guys went out and found Rogue had
joined the brotherhood, but then found out that she had been
hypnotized, and was under Magneto's spell, and then Logan kissed her
and it broke the spell, but it nearly killed him, and is Sabretooth
and Toad going to join the x-men now?"
"I'm amazed you got all of that out in just one breath!  Umm, let's
see if I can remember all of your questions in order. First one the
answer is, no, then no, then no. Umm the next answer is no, and
finally, hell no."
"But they are both here right? Kurt is telling everyone that he saw
Sabretooth carrying Toad up the driveway this morning. Is he telling
the truth?" It became obvious to Scott that Jubilee wasn't going to
give up.  Scott sighed. "Yes."
"Who's Sabretooth and Toad?" Mercy interrupted.
"They're from the brotherhood, our sworn enemies." Jubilee remarked
with mischievous delight.
" `The Brotherhood'? Humph! That's what pirates called their
organization back in the seventeenth century." Mercy didn't seem to
be impressed by the name of the x-men's adversaries.
She was now on her hands and knees. She opened a lower cabinet door,
and began reaching in the very back behind the bottle of dish soap
and floor cleaners. She pulled out an un-opened bag of `chips ahoy'
chocolate chip cookies and sat down at the table. Suddenly she looked
over at Jubilee with a surprised look on her face.
  "Oh crap!" she blurted out as she looked right at Jubilee, "I forgot
you were here." Jube laughed. "You were just talking to me."
"Here," Mercy opened the bag and gave her two cookies. "I'll share as
long as you promise not to tell anyone where my hidey-hole is. OK?"
"Deal." Jubilee agreed and began to merrily munch away on a cookie.
"Both Sabretooth and Toad are here right now, but that's all there
really is to it." Scott informed the two women. "So, I would
appreciate it if either of you would not make a big deal of this.
Clear?"
With puppy like wide-eyed innocence, Jube agreed to Scott's request,
while Mercy shrugged her shoulders. "I wouldn't know what kind
of `big deal' to make of it any anyway."
"The less you know about those two the better off you are." Scott
advised.
"A couple of bad boys huh?" Mercy questioned. Scott nodded. "Oooh
Yeah, a couple of the worst."
"Will I get to meet them?" she added
Scott was sure now wasn't the right time to spread around the rumor
of Sabretooth's possible long-term stay. Not to mention that as of
yet, Toad's future was still a mystery.
He shook his head. "Not very likely, and consider yourself lucky."
"What are you doing today, Jube?" Scott quickly changed the
subject. "Me and some of the girls are heading to the mall today.
Hey, Mercy wanna join us?" Having Mercy come along and chaperone was
like not having a chaperone at all. She let them play their music as
loud as they wanted, a trip to the pizza pub was almost always
included and they always just barely made it back in time for curfew.
Mercy shook her head, and with a disappointed voice added, "I can't.
I've got some things I need to take care of in the art room. I've put
it off as long as I can. *sigh* Cleaning, and more cleaning." There
was a pause. "Wanna stay and help?" Jube just wriggled her
nose. "Well, I promised Kitty and Rogue I would go. You know how mad
Kitty gets when you break a promise to her." "I understand." Mercy
grinned. "Guess you'll be occupied with our two new `guests' huh,
Scott?" Mercy concluded.
"You can say that again."
"Guess you'll be occupied with our two new `guests' huh, Scott?" she
teased.
"That was very funny. Ha-ha." Scott might have added a sarcastic
smile if his head hadn't been splitting.
"I thought it was." Mercy was grinning from ear to ear.

Toad was still sleeping from all the pain killers Dr. McCoy had given
him.  There wasn't much else Hank or Jean could do for him except
wait and see if he had the strength to come out of this alive.  They
moved Toad into a room just off to the side of the main dispensary,
and to everyone's surprise the professor gave Sabretooth permission
to stay with his comrade but he could not leave the dispensary. Also,
even more amazing was that Sabretooth was being compliant and easy to
get along with.
In spite his obvious dislike for his new surroundings and for them as
well, he managed to keep quiet, out of the way and most importantly,
out of trouble. Still everyone looked forward to seeing that `bad ol'
puddy tat' hauled off the estate in chains.
Sabretooth loathed the smells of a hospital. They were exactly like
that of a laboratory's and he despised laboratories with a passion.
He hated their lighting, their color, everything about them. He was
beginning to wonder if staying with Toad rather than the holding tank
was his best choice after all.
He was sitting in a chair that was uncomfortable to say the least,
and he was utterly bored. He guessed he had been in the x-mansion for
at least 3-4 hours already. `How long does it take to round up a few
hundred cops?' he joked to himself.
So he just sat there in that too small, too hard of a chair, taking
turns staring at Toad, then starring at the monitors, and then at
Hank who was sitting at a desk just across the hallway.
Hank had even gone as far as to try to initiate a civil conversation
with Sabretooth, but as hard as Sabretooth tried, he just could not
stay at Hank's level of intellect. So, the two men awkwardly back
away from each other and went to doing what they knew.
Sabretooth was getting so bored that he was hoping Toad would wake up
soon just so he had someone he could talk to. Not that he ever
relished conversations with the Wart, but he was so damn bored just
sitting around doing nothing. Toad would at least give him a good
argument if he were awake.
He was hungry too. He hadn't eaten anything since the day before, and
now his stomach was beginning to growl almost as loudly as he. He
thought about asking for something to eat.  He was sure that once he
was in custody, it would be even longer before the feds would give
him any food.
Also, he would have liked to take a shower. He still had Hudson River
water all over him, and in spite his un-kept appearance, he liked the
feeling of being clean.  But he was a proud man and he hated asking
for anything. Taking whatever he wanted was more his style, but he
knew that his best option for staying alive right now was to play
nice.
His plan was to play along with whoever came to get him until such
time that he felt Magneto would welcome him back to the brotherhood
or at least allow him to live.
He'd been through this routine a hundred times. No matter what he'd
done in the past, someone somewhere always wanted him kept alive for
just one more job. It was a vicious and ugly game that he knew only
too well.
"Hey, fuzzy, is somebody coming to get me or what?"
"My name is Dr. McCoy or Beast. You may even call me Hank if you
prefer." He never looked up from reading his book. "I believe Jean
was asked to go upstairs in regard to that very matter. Now whether
or not someone has contacted the government officials as to your
temporary detainment here I can not vouch for."
"A simple `I don't know', would have done just fine." Sabretooth said
under his breath.
Just that moment, Sabretooth heard the elevator door open. He took a
deep breath, expecting this would be at least a dozen bad-ass guards
coming to put him in shackles, but was confused when he could only
smell Jean, Scott, and the Professor coming out of the elevator and
heading his way.
When he saw them coming toward him he joked. "Did the feds take the
day off?"
Scott didn't see the point in beating around the bush. "There's been
a change of plans. You're staying here for good."
For a moment he just stared at them with those black unreadable eyes
of his. Finally, he folded his arms over his chest and snorted. "So,
you frails think you can keep me on ice, huh? Suit your self."
"Sabretooth, why did you give your self up?" Charles hoped this may
be a good place for the two men to start building trust between each
other.
Sabretooth knew the gig was up. "Look, Chuck. Magneto is one tough
son of a bitch I can't beat. I fucked up, I know I did, and so does
he. When he gets out, I'm as good as gone."
"Don't you mean `if' he gets out?" Charles politely corrected.
"No, `when'." Sabretooth repeated, somewhat offended that Charles
would second guess his judgment.
"So, by keeping you here, we'll actually be doing you a favor." Scott
couldn't resist pointing that little fact out. Sabretooth just
growled and gave him a dirty look.
"Like it or not, Victor, you're staying here." Charles spoke a kind,
yet firm voice.  "After you have had a shower and something to eat,
you will begin psychotherapy with me. You will have a bedroom up
stairs, but it is a secure room and you will not be allowed to leave
it once everyone has gone to bed.  The extent of freedom that you get
to enjoy will depend entirely upon your progress to social-
reintegration. This is the only stipulation where you have a
choice."
Sabretooth roughly grunted. He knew when he was beat.

DISCLAIMER: This story does have some original characters, but the x-
men and the brotherhood belong to marvel and FOX entertainment.
This is for entertainment only. No profit will be made from this
story.
SUMMERY: Well this is my attempt at the movie's sequel.
Rating: NC17 There's gonna be sex in this one but not right away. M/F
F/F (M/M maybe I haven't decided just yet.)
FEEDBACK: Please, please, please!!! adnilnosnhoj@...
ARCHIEVE: Just tell me where, so I can tell my
friends


Chapter 3
Washington DC was somewhere a mutant did not feel comfortable. Even
if she could change her shape and completely fool the world into
believing that she was someone else; that she was normal that she was
not a freak of nature as most here were call her.
Mystique, still in a lot of pain from the battle she had lost the
night before, quietly closed the door to Senator's Kelly's private
bathroom and secretly changed into her natural state of being.
Her wounds had almost healed, but not entirely. She changed her
bandages, cleaned the wounds, and washed her face.
What she wanted to do was throw something; scream at the top of her
lungs; or at least break down and have a good cry.
They had come so close to victory, only to see everything blow up and
go straight to hell.
Fortunately, she and Eric had thought of this plan a long time ago
and had gone through its details with a fine tooth comb.
In fact, taking Senator Kelly's place just long enough to kill the
mutant registration bill had been Eric's original plan; that is until
he created that stupid mutation device. `Eric, you pompous ass, you
should have left well enough along.' She thought to herself as she
dried her face. `Things are going along just fine. I told you this
plan would work. Well, now it's all up to me whether you like it or
not.'
Mystique resumed Kelly's form. She pushed her way through another
dozen or so reporters before getting into the limo waiting to take
Senator Kelly home.
Luckily, for Mystique, Senator Kelly's personal life was in the
toilet. His daughter recently committed suicide shortly after she
lost control of her own mutational powers in front of score's of TV
reporters and cameramen just as her father was denouncing the rights
of mutants.
His wife could not forgive him for their daughter's choice. She was
back in Kansas, filing for a divorce.
His new personal assistant was an attractive strawberry-blonde woman
with lovely blue/gray eyes and slender figure named Sherry Brown.
She rode in the back of the limo across from the Senator. "This time
last week, I would have never dreamed that I would even get into the
same car with you! But here I am Senator, working for you!" She spoke
energetically.
Mystique just kept looking out the window, barely hearing what she
had said. "mmm…" was the best response she could come up with.
Mystique had personally hand picked Sherry to replace the `recently'
departed Mr. Guyriesch, because even though she was not a mutant
herself, she supported their cause.
The moment Mystique laid eyes upon Sherry, she was drawn to her. She
felt a loving, tender and warm heart beating underneath Sherry's
modestly buttoned silk blouse. Mystique had so missed the tenderness
of another woman for long enough.  Now that Eric was not looking over
her shoulder, she felt it was safe to look for the comfort she craved
in another woman.
Even though Eric didn't seem to mind others in the brotherhood having
alternate life styles; she just didn't feel comfortable with him
knowing about hers. Perhaps in the back of her mind, she feared that
he would push her away just has her own father had, so many years
before.
It seemed to her that in some form or another she was always hiding
her true self to those she wished to be closest to. Except for one.
Mystique quietly sighed She could almost see the image Destiny's face
from so long ago, looking back at her from the tinted limo window as
she stared at the trees they passed on their way to Senator's Kelly's
condo.   `I need you Destiny. I wish you here with me.'
Destiny was the only one who ever loved her for her self, as
herself.  But even though she could predict the immediate future,
Destiny was not a telepath. For now, Mystique would have to find love
from someone else.
"Well, here are this morning's messages." Sherry hesitated for a
second. She noticed that Kelly did not seem to be focusing this
morning. "Umm, are you sure you want to hear them?" Mystique as Kelly
finally turned around and gave her attention to Sherry. "Sure,"
trying to put on smile. "Why not."
Sherry adjusted her glasses and ruffled a paper full of written
messages.  "O.K. Yes, well, *The Friends of Humanity* say that they
are officially withdrawing their support to your presidential
campaign, and are demanding that you resign immediately, as are *The
Coalition for a Normal World* *The KKK* and *The American Nazi
Party*." Sherry paused and looked hard at the Senator. "Good ridons
to bad trash, huh?" Mystique nodded.
"You do now have the support of and praises from the, *Mother's of
Mutants*, *The American Society for the Advancement of Mutant
Rights*, and *We Are One*. Umm…CNN, FOX, ABC, NBC, and CBS are all
begging for an exclusive.  Also…the Pope called and said he is
encouraged by your change of heart, will continue to pray for you.
Now the strangest call came from someone named Charles Xavier. All he
said was, `There's no mystery to who you really are.', and he
stressed the word *mystery*."
`Charles knows.' Mystique thought to herself. `Oh well, he can't do
anything to stop me.' Then a devilishly delightful thought streaked
across her brain. `But maybe I can do something to stop him.' The
wheels in Mystique's mind immediately began to turn.
"He's a cracked pot. The message is meaningless." She assured her
assistant.
`Charles, your days as a teacher will soon be over.'

Sabretooth wasted no time jumping into a hot shower. He didn't even
care in the least that Scott was guarding him. He poured out nearly
half of the shampoo out of the bottle onto his head, and began to
wash himself from top to bottom, all the while singing loudly, and
way off key.
Several minutes later he emerged from the shower stall, fresh and
revived, wearing only a white towel around his loins.
Scott was sitting in a chair on the other side of the room, thumbing
through a magazine that was left on the night stand next to
Sabretooth's new bed.
"I'll take you to the kitchen as soon as you get something on." Scott
coldly said as he continued flipping the pages.
Sabretooth gave a tiger-like grunt which probably meant `Cool', and
reached over for the pair of dark gray sweat pants that were lying on
his bed.
Just as Scott instinctively glanced up from the magazine, Sabretooth
dropped the towel and bent over, unintentionally mooning Scott with
his hairy ass. Scott winced. `That's a sight I could have lived
without.'
Then Sabre grabbed the shirt to put it on, but when he saw the "X" he
threw it back onto the bed, and grunted again, but the meaning to
this one was definitely not `cool'. "What the fuck is this!" He
scorned. "It's a shirt that happens to have an `x' on it. Relax."
Scott teased. "Putting it on doesn't automatically make you a member
of the team."
Sabretooth shot him an evil look and growled for a moment or two. "I
ain't putting it on." He declared. "You can't go outside of your
bedroom without a shirt." Scott said flatly and with that, the
pissing contest was on.  Sabretooth put his hands on his hips, and
looked dead into Scott's ruby glasses. "You think `cause you got the
best of me last night, you can just take me anytime?"
Scott had tolerated Logan's attitude the entire time he was in the
mansion, but there was no way he was going to put up with Sabre's for
even one day.  "I don't think I can, I know I can." He was more than
happy to put another hole in Sabretooth's hide, even if he would only
heal up in a matter of minutes. Hell, eventually this alley cat is
going to run out of lives right?
Scott then realized however, that Sabretooth was not in the habit of
thinking and the only way the professor's idea would even have a
possible chance, then he would have to think of some other means to
motivate this big ugly jerk into obeying the rules.
"But that's not what I want to do, Sabretooth." Scott continued. "I
didn't mean to put you on the defensive, only it's important that the
kids see that everyone here lives by the rules. If we let you walk
around half naked, then we have to let every one else do the same."
"Don't sound so bad to me." Sabretooth remarked half seriously.
"Well, trust me; it wouldn't be a pretty sight. How about you turn
the shirt inside out for now. I'll ask if someone wouldn't mind going
into town and pick up some new clothes for you. Sound alright to you?"
Again the felinoid grunted. This time he was back to saying, `cool'.

disclaimers and such are in ch2


Chapter 4
Now that he was fully dressed Scott escorted Sabretooth down to the
kitchen. There were two ways to get there from the bedroom. The short
way was through the main hallway of the mansion. That would take them
right past the dayroom, and the library, the two most occupied areas
of the x mansion at this time on a Saturday afternoon, or the long
way around, through the classroom area of the building, which was
normally empty on Saturdays. As far as Scott was concerned, this was
a no brainer.
"So why the hell did Chuck turn his house into a school?" Sabretooth
curiously asked as they passed the open classrooms. He was walking
along side Scott who was struggling to keep pace with the 7' giant's
long strides.
"It's a long story that the Professor is much better at telling than
I am." Scott was trying not to sound too annoyed with Sabre for
repeatedly referring to Charles Xavier as `Chuck'.
Sabretooth didn't seem interested in carrying on a conversation with
Scott at this point in time.  He was too busy sniffing the air,
picking up all kinds of delicate odors. When he was this hungry, and
by this time he was starving, he instinctively began to sniff out
food.
He detected another human in the area; a female. She was in the room
just up ahead, where he was also picking up the odors of glue, clay,
paint, and…*sniff*…cookies! In eight giant steps Sabretooth was at
the door to the art room, and walking inside leaving Scott far
behind.
Instantly he spotted the bag of `chips a-hoy' cookies which were on a
counter on the far side of the room. Standing on top of the counter
next to the bag was a woman he did not recognize, her back was to him
and she was loudly playing some CD  with some girl singing, `You
better get this party started'. She appeared to be painting something
on the wall just below the ceiling's crown-molding.
Cautiously, he approached Mercy from behind, not knowing what powers
if any she possessed. He was almost in reaching distance of the
cookies, when Scott came from behind. "C'mon." Scott spoke
firmly. "You're not supposed to be in here." Sabretooth whirled
around to face Scott and angrily roared. The ferocious sound sent
chills down Mercy's spine and she quickly turned to see Scott in a
stand off with probably the most fearsome mutant she had even seen.
"I just want some damn cookies!" Sabretooth angrily shouted. Mercy
had a side view of the two men who were completely ignoring her. She
was looking especially hard at the tall brawny blonde haired
stranger. `He's beautiful!' She thought to herself. `Scary as hell,
but beautiful.'
"Oh, you can help yourself, I don't mind." She interrupted the men
with a flirtatious smile. "It's not like I can't go to the store and
by some more."
Sabretooth didn't waste any time grabbing the bag and stuffing his
large hand inside, only to find the cookies were sealed inside a
plastic sleeve. He dropped the bag, and with both of his enormous
hands tore the sleeve open with great force.
Chocolate-chip cookies flew in every direction. Only about half were
still left in the sleeve.  He quickly began stuffing cookies in his
mouth.
Mercy looked over to Scott. "Is this one of our `guests' you
mentioned earlier?"  Scott nodded his head. "Mercy, this is
Sabretooth." Scott reluctantly introduced them to one
another. "Sabretooth…Mercy."
Mercy was looking down at Sabretooth who did little more than nod his
head as a sign of acknowledgement to her.
Like a queen commanding her knight she held her hand out in his
direction. "Sabretooth, help me down."
Maybe it was because he knew just how nervous this would make Scott,
Sabretooth obeyed her order.
With the bag of cookies still in his hand he grabbed Mercy around her
hips and lifted her off the counter. He held her there above him,
holding her body close. Mercy braced her hands on his shoulders. She
had managed to place her fingers through some of his long hair.
Neither said a word to each other as they just stared into each
other's eyes.
As far as Scott could tell it looked like Sabretooth had no intention
of putting her down any time soon. What really surprised Scott was
Mercy didn't seem to mind her predicament one bit. `Oh, shit.' He
thought to himself. `How am I going to pull these two apart.'
"Sabretooth…" Scott kept his voice low and calm. "Put…the art teacher…
down."
Like a couple of children being ordered out of the pool, both Mercy
and Sabretooth give Scott a disappointed look. He put her down by
letting her body slide slowly down his. She gave the felinoid a
sultry smile as she slowly stepped away from him though Scott was
sure she would have been happy to stay in villain's arms.
Sabretooth took another cookie and chomped on it slowly. He began to
examine Mercy more closely. She was about 5' 8" and about
180lbs; `Not bad to look at. Kinda meaty, but that's OK; just
makes `em bounce better.' He remarked to himself.
She had long shapely legs and large breasts.  `Hmmm…Wonder how good
she fucks.' He then began to examine her other details. She had
golden brown eyes, and wire framed glasses. She had long, deep
burgundy colored hair that hung past her shoulders. The ends of hair
curled into carefree locks. Her bangs were almost touching her
eyelashes, and she had her fore-locks pulled back into a pony-tail
with a bright purple bow made from a scarf. The bright purple
material of her top and pants could be seen through the white
artist's smock she wore over them.
He didn't notice any perfume, just some ordinary deodorant, and soap.
But this did make detecting her own natural scent easier and he found
it to be what he liked most about her.
Her scent reminded him of apples, and honeysuckle, but most of all,
her scent reminded him of fresh sweet milk.
Realizing she had caught Sabretooth's fascination, Mercy smiled once
more at the giant mutant.
"I bet you would love to have some milk to go with those cookies,
huh?"
"Wow!" Sabretooth quipped sarcastically. "You must be a telepath if
you figured that out without any help."
Mercy gasped in disbelief, and then mischievously added. "If I were a
telepath I wouldn't waste time reading your mind; I gave up
children's literature years ago." Sabretooth growled softly knowing
he had been insulted but not quite sure just how.
Scott just stood back and chuckled to himself. He was glad that
Sabretooth was getting to see Mercy being herself.
Now was as good of a time as any to get Sabretooth out the door. "If
you want something else besides those cookies we'll have to go."
Sabretooth nodded his head and the two men started to leave.
"It was a pleasure to meet you Sabretooth." Mercy added as the men
were walking away.
The felinoid turned around and for a long hard moment just stared at
her. "Ditto." Was all he offered in a cold emotionless manner.
Just as they left the room, Mercy sighed and whispered under her
breath, "Now that's one sexy son-of-a-bitch."
What she didn't know was Sabretooth was able to hear her every word.

DISCLAIMERS AND SUCH ARE IN CH1


                                                   Chapter 5
"Well this day couldn't get any shittier!" Earl said to himself as he
waited outside for Floyd to show up with keys to the meeting hall.
  The local chapter of the Friends of Humanity had called for an
emergency meeting.
All hell had broke lose as far as every red-blooded bigot was
concerned. A new plan of action had to be thought up quick. No time
to waste.
Earl saw Floyd pulling up in the drive-way and went to his car to
meet him. He was surprised to see that in the passenger seat was a
kid he had never seen before.
Earl leaned over the driver's window. "Who's the kid?"
Floyd causally unbuckled his safety belt and began opening the door
with Earl still hanging from its window. "Oh, hey, Earl, this is
Graydon. Graydon Creed. Me and Connie started takin' in foster kids.
He's our first."
Earl and Floyd were walking toward the meeting hall with Graydon
following close behind. Floyd leaned over and under his breath he
told Earl, "Connie had to work today, no one to leave the boy with."
Then he added. "Kid's parents are both muties; poor bastard."
Instantly Earl grabbed Floyd's sleeve and pulled him around to face
him. "And you brought him along? Are you fucking nuts?"
"Oh, no, trust me, it's cool. I've been teachin' him up right. He'll
fit in just fine."
"He better. We've had enough shit messing the apple cart lately. Umm…
if his folks are a couple of muties, don't that make him one too?"
"Naw, that's where the kid got a break, That fuckin' X gene skipped
him altogether."
They all started walking toward the meeting hall again. Floyd reached
behind him and lovingly put his arm around Graydon and brought him in
between him and Earl. "Watch this. Hey Gray, is there such a thing as
a good mutie?"
The dark haired, dark eyed, muscular boy looked to be about thirteen,
though he wasn't even yet eleven. He had his hands in his pockets and
had a chip on his shoulder that was about the size of the Rock of
Gibraltar. With conviction in his voice the angry child said. "The
only good mutie is a dead mutie." The two men smiled at Graydon's
reply and all walked arm in arm toward the meeting hall.

There was no way Sabretooth was going to let Charles Xavier head-
shrink him.  He sat in a leather chair with his arms folded over his
chest and just coldly stared at Charles who had insisted that he and
the psycho killer be left alone for Sabretooth's therapy session.
For a very long time, the two men just kept quiet and neither tried
breaking the ice. Finally, Charles spoke up. "Victor, are you happy?"
"What?" The tone of Victor's voice and the expression on his face
showed how ridiculous he thought the question was.
"Are you happy?" Charles repeated the question confident it was the
appropriate thing to ask.
Victor just sat there in his chair.  Charles added. "Cooperate, don't
cooperate; the choice is yours. But as long as you don't trust us,
then we can not trust you."
"Trust is for suckers." Sabretooth snorted. "Really Victor?" Charles
pointed out. "Didn't it take some measure of trust to come here for
help in the first place?"
Victor just grunted and shifted his weight around in the chair. He
had been on one hell of an emotional roller coaster ride these passed
couple of days. He was mentally exhausted and just plain tired. He
was really not in the mood for any stupid head games right now, but
what else could he do?
He was just plain stuck in this mess. This mess that he wouldn't be
in if he wouldn't let his emotions run away every time he saw Logan.
After a while, Sabretooth finally snapped his reply at the
Professor. "Hell no!" was all he growled. Charles sounded sincerely
caring. "I'm sorry to hear that, Victor. Why aren't you happy?"
Victor couldn't believe this. "You're joking right?"
Charles offered no answer in return. Vic stood up and went to the
window and looked out at the younger children who were playing in the
yard.
They looked to be having fun, having a real good time. They were
happy; that was easy enough to see. `Guess that's important around
here.' Victor sarcastically thought to himself. He couldn't bring
himself to face Charles. "Oh, I don't know why. Maybe because my
whole life's a fucking mess right now. No other reason I can think of
off hand."
"Hmmm, I see. Why is that?" Charles wasn't backing off.
Sabretooth whirled around and shot Charles an angry look. "'Cause you
fucking idiots had to come and stick your noses where they didn't
belong. If you would only open your eyes you would see Magneto has
the right answers. We're the `good guys' not you and your panty waist
x-men. His plan would have worked and every thing would be fine."
"There was a serious flaw in his machine, Victor. Had Magneto
succeeded, everyone in New York City would have been exposed and
thousands of people would have died."
"So?" Victor interrupted but not with out a little discomfort from
what little conscience he had left.
"Not to mention that Magneto was going to sacrifice the life of a
child in order to accomplish this. Does this sound right to you?"
Charles felt this may reach him.
"Yeah, well I didn't like that part too much." Sabretooth
admitted. "But Magneto never cared much for my opinion. Hell, he
didn't keep me around to do any thinking." There was a very faint but
detectable sound of hurt in Victor's voice.
"How do you feel about that?" Charles saw a chance to get Victor to
open up some.
Victor thought whether or not he should answer the question. He
hadn't intended to do much of any talking, but figured as long as he
answered some questions, especially the dumber one, then it can look
like he at least trying to cooperate and then maybe these frails
would put down there guard.
He hadn't thought of it until he was in the shower, but if he could
get his hands on something valuable to Magneto, that could be a real
bargaining chip for him later down the road. Magneto just might
forgive him for his inept behavior and allow him back into the fold
if he came crawling back baring a gift.
Too bad he couldn't just bring the bald guy's head on a silver
platter so to speak. Would have been a lot simpler than playing this
game, but luckily for Charles, Magneto had made it clear that he was
to be left unharmed.
Victor thought about his answer to Charles' question. "I don't know.
I guess it makes me feel like he thinks I'm dumb. Like he can't
imagine that I would ever have a good idea once in a while."
"But you do have good ideas from time to time don't you?" Charles
offered.
"Yeah, yeah," Victor's voice brightened. "I do. I'm not some dumb
blonde. Well, not always. Guess I don't like to do much thinking."
"Why don't you think more often? You seem to be quite good at it."
Remembering that Charles had been in his mind more than once lately,
Victor was beginning to understand he was dealing with someone who
knew him better than most.
"Well I like thinking about stuff that don't seem to matter much to
people. Don't know why that is, I just do. But every now and then I
have a good idea." Victor sat back down in the chair and leaned in
close to Charles. "Take the Rogue's situation last night. My idea was
to let the kid touch me once before she took on Mag's powers and then
once more after she was done. I'm strong enough to survive her
touching me a couple of short times. Rogue would have made it through
the ordeal, and we all could have gone home happy. And I stress the
word happy sense that's what you seem so interested in."
Victor folded his hands back over his chest and proudly looked down
on Charles who sat quietly nodding his head from his
wheelchair. "But, no. You go and blow the whole thing right out of
the water. I couldn't afford to give anything up to the girl with
your people fucking around. I needed to stay behind and baby sit the
frails."
"Well those `frails' managed to over power you. How do you suppose
they did that?"
"'Cause, `cause I'm a dumb ass jerk. I let my temper get the best of
me again." Victor was feeling guilty.
"You said you like to think about things that are unimportant to
others. Well, I would like you to think on this. Maybe your failure
last night was simply meant to be."
Victor chortled, "Meant to be?"
"Yes." Charles quietly repeated. "I want you to think about that.
We'll talk more tomorrow."
Sabretooth was relieved to have the first session finally over. Scott
escorted him back to his room. As they walked pasted the art room
Sabretooth recalled the encounter he had earlier with Mercy.
"You x-men pick the stupidest names for yourselves."  Sabretooth
couldn't help but point out.
"Oh really? Then how do you justify you name, Sabretooth?" Scott
emphasized the name Sabretooth. "Well, think about it." Sabretooth
continued. "I mean don't you think `Mercy' is pretty stupid for a
code name."
"That's not a code name. That's her real name."
"No, shit?" Sabretooth was surprised. "Guess her parents didn't like
her much did they."
Scott chuckled. "There's nothing wrong with her name; it's rather
nice I think."
"You would name your daughter Mercy?" Sabretooth dared Scott as he
turned around forgetting that he couldn't see Scott's eyes.
"Well, now I don't know if I would go that far." Scott confessed
"Thought so." Sabretooth then added, "Me neither."

DISCLAIMERS AND SUCH ARE IN CH1


Chapter 6

"Looks like it's going be a full house." Earl noted as everyone began
taking their seats. "Yeah, well, I think most of us are waiting to
hear what the Reverend Stryker as to say." Floyd whispered as the
room became quite. Everyone could see that Rev. William Stryker was
ready to take the pulpit.
He was a nicely built, average height, rather attractive, and very
charismatic white male who looked to be about 55 years old.
He had proudly taken on the crusade of purifying the world of the non-
human species known as homo-superiors, beginning with his one and
only son.
On a fateful day so long ago, he and his pregnant wife were traveling
through the Arizona desert when their car went off the road and
rolled over several times before stopping. He delivered their baby
alone with his wife unconscious, only to see that what had come from
her body was not human, but rather a hideous monster. William Stryker
followed his instincts and instantly crushed the new-born baby's
skull with his bare hands. He then broke his wife's neck for the
crime of bringing such an abomination into this world. Seeing that a
great deal of gas had leaked form the car, he lit a match intending
to kill himself for his part in his wife's crime. But miraculously
his body was thrown from the explosion and his life was spared while
his wife's and child's bodies were burned beyond recognition.
After many years of struggling with the guilt and shame of what had
happened on that day in the desert, he came to the twisted and
perverted understanding that it had been God's will to spare his
life, for the sole purpose of cleansing the world of these "creations
from Satan".
He began going from church to church twisting the scriptures to fit
his means as wolves in sheep's clothing do.
His message of fear and hate for the mutant-kind spread like a wild
fire through out the land, consuming even the tiniest fragments of
rational thinking within the minds of ordinary men and women.
His `ministry' grew within a very short time. The world was changing
so rapidly and drastically, no one seemed safe from the enviable.  He
had become the voice of a frightened class of people needing
direction and guidance under such peculiar circumstances.
William Stryker looked out to his loyal flock. They were confused,
frightened and alarmed. They needed him to reassure them that
everything would be fine; everything was going to turn out as they
were hoping for. It was under these types of circumstances that
allowed men like Stryker to peddle their messages of fear and hate.
Giving the mob someone to blame, someone to make the scape goat for
all the worries. All the while never realizing that they were like
sheep being led to the slaughter house.
"Today, my brother's and sister's we were dealt a heavy blow. But our
cause has not ended. We still have our mission to accomplish."
Stryker's voice was solemn and sorrowful. "One of our very own has
left the flock, and walked away from his calling. Senator Kelly
turned his back on his own kind. He is now a damned creature, and God
shall judge his soul." He paused for a moment and bowed his head in
silence. It was as if he had closed a door and locked it behind him
for good.  He then continued.
"I have spent this afternoon in prayer and I have asked God to show
me what He would have us do." He glanced up and saw the faces in the
hall were hanging on his every word.
"For many years now, we have tolerated and tried to accept these non-
humans, as members of our society. We have tried to use peaceful
means to find some way to exist together in harmony. All we have
asked for is some simple and fair means to protect ourselves and our
loved ones.
But the enemy does want to live with us in peace and in harmony, but
rather it is their intention to conquer and annihilate us. Why else
would the mutant fear registration? Why do they need to hide
themselves like the roaches in our homes?" He allowed his voice to
raise and fall to achieve the desired affect.
"If we cannot take control of our enemy now, through peaceful and
legal means, then for the very sake of our survival, we must not be
afraid to take the next steps in this holy war."
Once again he looked out to see the faces of his audience and he was
quite pleased. He saw in their ordinary faces filled with the anger
and animosity a good soldier must have for his enemy. But to ensure
he had the mob's unwavering attention, he needed a visual aid;
someone from the audience to hold up as an example of a righteous and
true soldier for such a time as this.
He scanned the faces but found no one worthy. That is until he
noticed that one chair in the hall had a person sitting in it who was
not even yet old enough to shave. `Perfect.' Stryker thought to
himself.
"God has just spoken to me." The false profit declared. Stryker
walked away from the pulpit and motioned that the boy be brought to
him. Floyd and Earl just stared at each other in confusion. "You
don't suppose he knows about the kids parents do you?" Earl leaned
over and whispered to Floyd who shrugged his shoulders and
replied. "Well if that's so, then I'll just say I didn't know."
"What do you think they'll do to him?" Once again, Floyd shrugged his
shoulders. "All I know is if anything bad happens to the kid, Connie
won't speak to me for a week."
When Graydon was brought up on stage, the Rev. led him to the front
to face the audience. He stood behind the boy and put his hands on
his shoulders.
"David was a little boy, no older than this, when he was called to
slay the giant Goliath. He knew his calling -he wasn't afraid because
he knew God was on his side."
Stryker paused and turned Graydon around to talk to him. He held the
microphone, so that everyone in the hall could hear Graydon
speak. "So, young man, what's your name?" The Rev. spoke in a kindly,
grandfather like voice. "Graydon." The boy spoke plainly though his
disposition hadn't changed any.
"Graydon, are you tired of seeing mutants in your school?" The boy
nodded his head. "Are you tired of hearing them whine about their
rights?" Again he nodded. "Are you willing to do whatever it takes to
stop these unholy creatures from taking over the world?" He didn't
answer, but he did look to be very interested in the man's words.
The Reverend then took the mic and began to once again address the
audience.
"I have learned from reliable sources that it was mutant terrorists
who are responsible for the attack on the Statue of Liberty last
night. They now go so far as to defile one of our great nation's most
precious and sacred monuments. This just proves how evil and Godless
these children of Satan truly are. This act cannot be allowed to go
unpunished. Who here will stand up for OUR freedom? Who will stand up
for OUR rights? Who will fight for OUR right to exist?" Stryker
paused for effect. "Who among you is a giant killer?"
More than half the audience was on there feet, applauding and
cheering; ready to run out and get their guns that very moment if
their leader only asked.
"We have so little time and so much to accomplish, brothers and
sisters. I'm afraid that Senator Kelly will not be the only one who
betrays his own people. Many of you will be led astray and fall
away."
Then to play on the people's emotions Stryker re-focused his
attention back on Graydon. "You look like a smart lad, Graydon. Tell
me, would you believe a mutant if he tells you he's your friend?" The
boy shook his head. "If you find our one of your teachers is a
mutant, would you go along with everything they tell you?" This time
Graydon spoke up in the mic. "No."
A fiendish smile streaked across the Reverend's face. "Oh thank God
we have such smart and wise young men to count on. Promise me
Graydon, that you will stay true. Promise me that you won't give up
this just and righteous fight; no matter what."
Reverend's Stryker's words lit the pathway to which Graydon was
suddenly made aware of. It was his destiny and fate to ensure the
safety of human kind. Graydon proudly accepted his calling, and at
that moment vowed his loyalty to the Friends of Humanity.
Earl and Floyd just sat back in amazement. Once again, Earl leaned
over and even more quietly than before, whispered to Floyd. "Are you
going to tell anyone about his folks?" "Hell no!" Floyd
confirmed. "And you better not either if you know what's good for
you."

"So, is somebody gonna get me some new clothes or what?" Sabretooth
grunted to Scott as they entered his bedroom. "I gave the list of
things you wrote down to Mercy. She seemed happy to do it."
Sabretooth growled and gave Scott an uncomfortable look. "That art
teacher better not bring back any fagot clothes." He warned before he
then flopped down on his mattress and folded his arms behind his
head. His long legs hung over the edge of the bed, but that didn't
seem to bother him.
He let himself roar a long, tired yawn and carefully scratched
himself under the chin with his sharp claws. "Call me for dinner,
OK." He ordered as he once again folded his arms behind his head, and
closed his eyes for a nap. Scott was beginning to feel like
Sabretooth's personal butler. Hopefully in a day or two, a routine of
some kind could be established so that he was not solely responsible
for keeping the felinoid out of trouble and this nonsense would stop.
"You'll be eating in here tonight. We haven't had a chance to tell
everyone about your extended `visit' here. We don't want a bunch of
freaked out kids hitting the panic button the first time they see
you. By tomorrow morning Mercy should be back with your clothes and
most likely everyone here will be alerted to your presence."
The villain picked up his head with a confused look on his face. The
fact that people had to be `alerted' to his presence made perfect
sense, however what else Scott said sounded a little off. "Should be
back by tomorrow? Where's she going? New York City's Fifth Avenue?"
"You wish. Well, knowing her, she's more likely to end up buying your
clothes at a second hand store in Greenwich Village. But hey, I made
sure she knew you don't want any `X's on your clothes." Scott somehow
felt a little better saying that. Especially when he saw the look on
Sabretooth's face once he learned he could very well end up with a
bunch of used clothes.
Scott then informed the `guest'. "Actually we're never sure where
Mercy will run off to. She has a real bad habit of just going where
the wind takes her. Even if we did know there's no telling how badly
she would get lost from here to there and back again."
"What? She don't have a good sense of direction?" Sabretooth was
beginning to wonder what if any usefulness she had.
Scott smiled and joked. "If someone gave her a map, she'd still find
some way to get lost."
Sabretooth just shook his head and closed his eyes for a nap. "Oh
well, she ain't my problem. Just make sure my food's hot -n- plenty
when you bring it to me."
Scott rolled his eyes and bit his tongue. Why was he always the lucky
one to end up babysitting the jerks who came to x-mansion. Scott
managed to keep his composure however and he closed the door and set
the alarm to Sabretooth's room.

DISCLAIMER: This story does have some original characters, but the x-
men and the brotherhood belong to marvel and FOX entertainment.
This is for entertainment only. No profit will be made from this
story.
SUMMERY: Well this is my attempt at the movie's sequel.
Rating: NC17 There's gonna be sex in this one but not right away. M/F
F/F (M/M maybe I haven't decided just yet.)
FEEDBACK: Please, please, please!!! adnilnosnhoj@...
ARCHIEVE: Just tell me where, so I can tell my friends

CHAPTER 7
Saturday night came and went with surprising ease.
Though he kept fazing in and out of consciousness, Toad had survived
another night and his health was improving by the hour. Although
Dr.'s Grey and McCoy congratulated each other for his recovery, they
debated whether or not saving Mortimer was such a great idea.
All the kids had made it back to the mansion before curfew. No
detention slips would be passed out that night. Even Mercy made it
back that evening from the closest mall with bags full of new clothes
for Sabretooth, who did little more than eat and sleep that night,
but not without complaining that he could not get the playboy channel
in his room. And much to his amazement, Scott had successfully kept
himself from getting another headache and even in spite all odds
against it, had a relatively peaceful night's sleep.
Alas, even though Sunday morning started out as well as the night
before, it would not last.
As Sunday mornings normally were at the mansion, it started out quiet
and serine. Most everyone took a little more time getting out of bed
and usually enjoyed relaxing at brunch. The atmosphere in the dining
hall was typically light and breezy. If Sabretooth was going to learn
to co-exist with his fellow man, this was the best place to start.
He walked along side Scott into the dining hall as if he had been
there at least a dozen times before; though secretly he was feeling
quite nervous. In spite of his cat-like nature which made him cool
and aloof to those around him, deep inside, Victor still craved
companionship and yearned to connect with the world around him. But
whether it was his intimidating appearance, or his strange, quirky
mannerisms, he was just too alien for people to bond with. Even among
outcasts he was an outcast. He never quite fit in, never really
belonged. Even in the brotherhood, he felt as if the others tolerated
him but did not accept him. In the middle of a crowded room, is when
Victor Creed would especially feel the loneliest.
He walked over to the adult side of the room, where Scott had already
taken his place next to Jean, along with Hank, Ororo, and the
Professor who were already seated.
From the other side of the room came a deafening and eerie hush as
the student's eyes followed Sabretooth with a fearful awe. First
someone whispered faintly, then another. Soon it seemed every student
was telling another student about the terrible, horrible, loathsome
and/or really cool things they had heard about this amazing super-
villain. Sabretooth may not have any friends, but he was famous.
The felinoid said nothing to anyone, only grunted and snorted as he
took a seat at the other end of the table where no one was sitting.
He put his large left fore-arm in front of his plate and pulled it
toward him; then he practically buried his head in his plate as he
devoured his food, using his fingers to feed himself rather than a
knife or fork. It was a gross sight and most looked away.
From within her mind Dr. Grey called out to Charles. *How can we even
begin to tame this…this animal, Charles? Look at him! He's too wild
and too far gone for any of us here to reach.*
Charles continued to eat his toast using the best of etiquette, as he
carried on his mental conversation with Jean. *If I had a dime for
every time I heard those every same words about so many others here,
I would be…well, I would be a VERY rich man.*
Scott noticed Jean smiling and he asked her what for. "Inside joke."
Was all she had to say.
Just then, Mercy walked up to the table. She was wearing a dark blue
over-sized T-shirt with Winnie the Pooh and Eeyore on the front and a
pair of casual slacks made from a flower print. Her flip-flop denim
shoes made a "clomp-clomp" noise as she walked.
She had with her a young petite girl with lavender colored hair and
skin. The little tyke wore a white T-shirt with a jumping Tigger on
its front and a pair of torn jeans. From the corner of his eye,
Sabretooth caught the sight of them both, just as he picked up his
plate and began licking it.
The tiny girl with Mercy saw what he was doing and smiled at the
sight. When Sabretooth saw the child looking at him, for a moment the
feline side of his mind wondered if snapping at her with his
ferocious teeth and giving her one of his terrifying roars would
impress her. But even he knew this was not the way to act around
small children.
For reason's unknown, Mercy chose to sit on Sabretooth's side of the
table, with nothing but a seat between him and her, and the child sat
across the table from Mercy. All at the other end of the table saw
this, and began to worry. All except for the Professor, who just
slightly waved his hand to signal that they need not interfere.
Both the child and Mercy were a little too close for Sabretooth's
comfort, though he himself knew they were no real threat. He finished
licking off his plate and set it down slowly; watching both of them
very carefully.
"Morning, Tiger." Mercy chirped as she started pouring cream into her
coffee.
An angry scowl covered his face. "Name's Sabretooth." Was all he
growled. Mercy turned to look at him. She stopped stirring her coffee
for a second and defiantly responded, "Well, I was close. It's not
like you ever hear of a sabretooth puma now do you?" He growled again
only more loudly, but this time the little girl across the table
giggled at the sound.
Mercy eye's popped wide open; she dropped her spoon and pointed a
shaking finger at Sabretooth. "You are a…genius!" She boldly
exclaimed. Mercy could hardly contain herself. She practically jumped
up and looked to everyone at the other end of the table. "Everybody,
did you hear that? She said something! Well maybe not said something,
but Clarice DID make a sound. I heard it. Did any of you?" They all
shook their heads.
Mercy looked at Clarice. She gently spoke to the girl. "Go on honey;
do it again so they can here you too." But all the bashful child
could do was pull her knees up to her head and burry her face in her
lap while covering her head with her hands. She sat on the chair
looking very much like a tortoise hiding in her shell.
Mercy sat back down disappointed. "You heard her, didn't you?" She
asked the felinoid.
"The squirt giggled. Big deal." Obviously, Sabretooth didn't
appreciate the circumstances. "Yes it is a big deal!" Mercy informed
him. "Clarice and her brother have been here for about a month now,
and this is the first time she's made so much as a peep." Then she
added a grateful, "Thanks to you." Suddenly, she had an idea. "Hey, I
know. Make that noise again, maybe she'll giggle some more."
Sabretooth started growling the moment Mercy referred to his prideful
growl as "noise". But this time Clarice did not make a sound. She
kept herself hidden away in her own make-believe shell.
A few moments went by. "OK Tiger, you can stop now, it doesn't look
like she's going for it this time." Mercy looked surprised when he
did not stop his fearsome growl. "Oh my gosh, you're really mad
aren't you?" she sincerely sounded sympathetic. "Was it something I
said?"
This brought Sabretooth's growling to a screeching halt. A puzzled
look came over his face. He paused for a moment as if he was
collecting his thoughts on the matter, but then changed his mind at
the last moment. "Aww, skip it." He sighed and picked up his cup of
coffee to take a sip. He then looked back at Mercy and gave her a
hard long look. "You know something Fluffy, you're the strangest
person I've ever met." To which she happily replied. "Me too!"

Sherry Brown quietly waited off stage behind the cameras as Senator
Kelly sat down with Bob Scheifer to "Face The Nation".  One of the
shows writers stood close to her and whispered. "You do realize
Kelly's chances of being re-elected are so small, that a piss ant
would have to squint its eyes just to see it."
"That's your opinion. I think people will see he's an insightful man
who is willing to admit to his mistakes."
"Riiiight, and monkeys are flying where?" The writer quipped. Sherry
rolled her eyes at him. "Look," he went on. "It's not like I'm for or
against mutant registration. Frankly, I don't care one way or the
other. But…if I was a mutant, I wouldn't trust him, and now that he's
turned his back on humans, well they're not going to either. If
memory serves me right, Paul from Tarsus was someone else who
suddenly went from persecuting Christians to becoming one of their
most respected leaders. But…" and the writer stressed his
words. "That was after he became one himself. So naturally he in turn
was persecuted for the rest of HIS life."
Sherry just gave the man an angry look, but realized he had made a
point.

"So, this is what x-men do." Sabretooth's voice was loud and
sarcastic. The kids in the corner of the rec-room immediately stopped
playing foos-ball to watch and see what he would do next. Rogue
especially kept a suspicious eye on the super-villain.
The felinoid put his hands on his hips as he nodded his head. "Just
sit around on your lazy asses and watch TV. Humph."
  "Not to burst your bubble or anything Sabretooth, but you are
felinoid, and it's a known fact that felines sleep most of their
lives away." Jean's voice was unusually cool as she spoke to him from
the couch where she and Scott sat next to each another.
"Yeah, well we just like saving up our energy, for the important
stuff that's all." He spoke under his breath as he began looking for
a place to sit.
Charles, who was also in the room, pointed to the TV screen. "It's
starting, shhh." Sabretooth growled for a second but he did so
quietly. He was starting to accept the Professor as his new Alpha."

DISCLAIMERS AND SUCH ARE LISTED IN CH1

Chapter 8
*Cue music…Bring up the lights slowly…Camera 1, scan the stage… 3…2…
1*
"Good morning fellow Americans, I'm Bob Shieffer, and welcome
to `Face The Nation'." Bob's voice is clear and precise. Two men are
sitting down in front of the cameras. One is the interviewer, the
other the interviewee.
"This morning's guest is the very outspoken, controversial, and until
yesterday probably the strongest supporter for the mutant
registration act, Republican Senator from Kansas, Edward Kelly."
*camera 2 scan over for a close up on Senator Kelly*
Schieffer: "Good morning Senator Kelly." Tone of voice is polite and
friendly.
Kelly: "Good morning, Bob." Tone of voice is equally polite and
friendly.
Schieffer: "Senator, first I wish to extend mine and the crews
condolences on the sudden death of your personal aid Mr. Guyriesch."
*Schieffer looks into camera 1 for close up *
"As most of you have heard by now, one of the Senator's aids, Mr.
Guyriesch was killed while-- on a camping trip was it? We here are
all very sorry to here that."
Kelly, off camera, nods his head in agreement.
Schieffer: "OK Senator Kelly. Now let's get to the real reason why
you're here. For months you have done nothing but preach and proclaim
that all mutants were our enemy and that if we are to survive as a
species, we must keep them under our total control."
*Camera 2 pull back to view both men sitting on stage*
"Now literally, over night, you completely change your stand on this
issue. Why? What happened to change your mind so completely?" His
tone of voice is urgent and compelling.
Kelly: "Well, Mr. Shieffer," Kelly sighs heavily, "my daughter
recently took her own life when she learned she too had become a
mutant." He pauses for a moment as if he is having trouble going on
with his explanation.
Kelly: "I was too stubborn and foolish to put aside my prejudice
thinking even at the cost of my daughter's life."
Schieffer: "So it was your daughter's suicide what made you re-think
your position on mutant registration?" His voice is compassionate.
Kelly: "Yes, Bob." Kelly looks away from camera and focuses his
attention straight at Bob. "I'm sorry to admit that it took my
child's fear of me not accepting her to bring me to the understanding
that mutants are in fact our own children, and not our enemies. At
first, I was too proud to admit it, but her face keeps haunting me
and I've had time to think things over." Kelly looks again into
camera to speak to the television audience. "If I could change the
past I would. I made accusations about a race of people I knew
nothing about. My fears were unfounded and unjustified and I was a
plain old fashion bigot jack-ass. I now wish to make my apologies
once again to all mutants around this nation and the world."
*Camera 1, close up on Schieffer for his reaction; switch to camera 2
pick up on Kelly as he continues*
Kelly: "Unfortunately I may be too late in bringing this apology to
the mutant community. There are a growing number of mutants who are
becoming as fearful of humans much the same way we have become
fearful of them. I am afraid that there are mutants operating
terrorist camps within our own borders. One of which has recently
been brought to my attention is a "school for the gifted" located in
Winchester NY. The head of this organization is a millionaire with
telepathic abilities."
*half-screen; picture of Charles Xavier pops up along side of Kelly*
Kelly: "His name is Charles Xavier. Also known as `Professor, or
Professor Xavier or Professor X' and he heads a band of mutant
terrorists known as the "x-men" as some of you may have already
heard. They recruit mostly teenage mutant runaways who are
impressionable and eager to find somewhere to belong. Xavier uses his
telepathic abilities to brainwash these helpless children to do his
bidding. He and his followers are a danger to society and I am
demanding that an investigation into the school and its activities
begin at once."
Schieffer: "When we return, Senator Kelly claims he has proof that
the x-men were responsible for last night's attack on the Statue of
Liberty. Stay tuned."
*Camera 2 break away for commercial.*
*Click* the TV screen turns black.
For a moment, everyone in the x-mansion who heard Kelly's accusations
just remained quiet, fuming with anger or stunned with disbelief.
That is everyone except for Sabretooth who folded his arms over his
chest and began to chuckle. "Ha ha. Who ever said `life ain't fair'.
Ha ha."
"Quiet." Scott snapped.
The fact that he got to see Scott fuming in anger satisfied the
felinoid enough not to push the issue. Sabretooth just leaned back to
enjoy the view of everyone's displeasure.
"So this is her game." Charles didn't seem too surprised.
"Her game?" Sabretooth looked confused. "Who's her?"
"Mystique, as if you didn't know." Ororo angrily snapped at him as
well. Sabretooth looked over his shoulder to see her standing well
behind him. "That's Mystique huh? Geeze, there's something about her
turning herself into a man that just makes my skin crawl."
"Well, looks like we have our work cut out for us." If Charles was
upset he wasn't showing it. "I will attempt to clarify our name by
sending out a statement to the press as soon as possible."
He turned his chair around to get a clear look at Sabretooth who was
beside himself with glee. "Did you know about any of this?"
He shook his head. "Naw. It's not like they ever bothered showing me
the `big picture'. I was strictly on a need to know basis. You know-
all muscle and no brains." He said as he softly knocked himself on
the side his head a few times.
  "Besides, this don't sound like something Mags would
approve of. He likes you teaching these kids their three "Rs". After
you make `em smart, he just comes
behind and picks `em up for his war. It's a win/win situation for
everyone."
Charles nodded his head. Sabretooth had such a plain way of speaking
the truth and Charles knew what he said been true. So many of the
children were being led astray by Magneto's promises of fame and
glory in exchange for their total loyalty to his cause.
Magneto may want the x-men put out of business, but why go after the
school? No, he figured Sabretooth was right; this had to be Mystique
acting on her own.
"So, this has to be Mystique's idea; but what has she against
educating children?" Jean wandered.
Sabretooth shrugged his shoulders. "Blue's a real control freak who's
in love with herself; that's all I have to say about her."
Charles wasted no time taking control of the situation. As he began
to head his chair out the door, he gave his orders. "Scott, we need
to have a staff meeting right away. Have all the teachers meet in the
conference room in one hour."
"Well," Scott stood up and looked at the felinoid. "You've had enough
free time for a while. You'll have to stay in your room now until
dinner."
"Why?" Sabretooth asked somewhat hostilely. Charles then interrupted
and maneuvered his chair around to see the two men. "No, that won't
be necessary Scott." Charles thought carefully for a moment. He had
noticed how quickly Sabretooth was adapting to his new home and had
even begun opening up more to those he came in contact with. At this
rate Sabretooth may even be allowed to roam the grounds without
supervision in a couple of weeks. "I think it would be good for
Victor to join us instead." To which, both men stared at each other
in disbelief.

DISCLAIMERS AND SUCH ARE LISTED IN CH1

Chapter 9
Within minutes, the rumor that Sabretooth was going to become a
teacher at x-mansion spread throughout the student body quicker than
a bad flu bug.
In fact, the kids were so worried about whether or not this was true,
they over looked the real problem the school was facing; and that was
the possibility of normal people coming in and invading their privacy
or worse even interfering with their right to learn.
By the time the meeting began, Sabretooth himself was wondering if
this rumor was true. He pondered the thought quietly to himself;
trying to think of something worse to end up as. Even as he and Scott
entered the conference room, Victor was still trying to think of an
answer.
Everyone was in the usual places. The Professor was at the head of
the table, Scott and Jean sat next to each other on one side of the
room while Ororo sat next to her beau Forge on the other side. Jamie
Madrox and Xi'an Coy Manh sat across from one another, Mercy and Hank
also sat opposite of one another, farthest away from Charles.
Though he would have preferred to stand, Sabretooth was asked to sit
at the table as well. But rather than sit in the chair normally, he
turned it around as the back-rest was facing the table. He then
straddled the seat so that his front was leaning up against the
chair's back. He either rested his arms on the head of the chair, or
folded them over his chest. Occasionally he even put his hands on his
hips as he quietly listened to the conversation going on around him.
He sat there quietly in his chair, eyes half closed, thinking of all
the events that had led him up to this point in his life.
Sabretooth's number one and by far his most important priority was
and still is –Sabretooth.
Deep down he had no real loyalty to Magneto not unless it was to his
best interest of course. Nor had he any real hated for any of the x-
men. To be honest he wasn't even terribly pissed at Storm for zapping
him in the railroad station or for that matter even Scott, for
blasting him clean out of the Statue of Liberty.
Now Logan on the other hand, well that was another story…
The Professor began the meeting. "As most of you know by now,
Mystique who is masquerading as Senator Kelly has come out and
accused us of terrorism. She knows the human community is very up set
right now and is looking to take out its anger on anyone it possibly
can.
I believe she is hoping that we will be so overwhelmed with defending
our reputation as a legitimate school that we won't be able to do
much to oppose her or Magneto."
Charles glanced over to Victor who now seemed very interested in what
he had said.  Charles continued. "The worst scenario is we would be
forced to close our doors and take even our teaching aspect of our
operations underground. But I won't let this happen with out a fight.
I am prepared to do battle in the courtroom or on my doorstep if need
be. I promise all of you this; not one child will be taken out of my
home because of this outrageous lie." Professor Xavier's voice was
proud and stern. He paused and looked at every one's face for just a
second or two before repeating, "Not one."
"So, here's what we have to look forward to for the next few days.
First, if you haven't noticed, the media has already begun to camp
outside the gate, our official business phone hasn't stopped ringing
and our web-site has never seen so many hits on a Sunday. Next, the
kids are going to start imagining their worst fears and we will to
have to calm a lot of nervous stomachs very soon."
Charles smiled just briefly and added. "However, for the moment, the
students are more interested in finding an explanation to
Sabretooth's presence than worrying if they will have a school to
next week."
Most everyone in the room just chuckled except Victor who gave no
reaction.
Ororo then asked. "Will there be an actual investigation at this
school?" The Professor gave her question some thought. "The
possibility does exist. If one or two FBI agents, or possibly some
social workers were to come to the school, there should be no
problem."
Every one in the room was unusually quiet as they carefully listened
to the Professor. "My main concern for now is how the general public
will react to these accusations."
Then Scott spoke what was on his mind. "Mutants have enough trouble
as it is without being accused of being terrorists. We need to show
the local community that we are not what we've been accused us of.
Does anyone have any suggestions?"
"It seems to me," Mercy spoke up. "That if we look like were hiding
from everyone then people are going to suspect we have something to
hide. Why don't we do something to get ourselves really noticed?"
Everyone turned to look at her as she continued.  "Look," She tried
to defend her theory.  "Mutants are being paid BIG bucks to get on
stage every night or on some sports field and show off their
abilities.
Just look at all the mutants staring in their own shows in Vegas.
Telepaths, voice manipulators, shape shifters, body contortionists,
hell, even guys with the tiger act use their mutant-ability to
communicate with animals. Those mutants are treated like gods!"
"You think we should put on a type of Vegas show?" Jean wondered
critically.
"Well, no not exactly, but we could put on a show of some kind, and
no one has to even use their powers." Mercy's eye's light up as her
idea took shape in her mind. "A variety show. We could sing some
songs, do a skit or two. I'm sure the kids would love to do it and
that would give the normal people a chance to see that this a regular
school with regular kids, and not some military camp."
Scott shook his head in disapproval. "It's not a good idea to have
the general public on the grounds."
"Yes, but Mercy has an idea worth considering." The Professor
added. "Where else could we hold this `variety show'?" he asked his
followers. Ororo spoke up. "There's a very nice park on the other
side of town. It even has an amphi-theater in the center."
"We would need to do this then before it gets too cold." Scott
thought to add. "How much time do you think we need to have a variety
show ready, Mercy?"
She thought for a second. "I think we could have something ready just
after the Halloween Dance. Does the first week in November sound
good?"
Those around the table started to agree with Mercy's plan.

Both Senator Kelly and his new personal aide fought their way though
a media feeding frenzy as they were leaving the studio.
Mystique was very good at knowing when and how to use the media to
her advantage. Just before she entered the limo, she turned around
and gave one quick response to the reports questions.
"I know that you are as out raged by the terrorist attacks the
occurred last night. I assure you that I will see those who are
responsible for them will be punished to the fullest extent of the
law. That is all I have to say at this time. Good day ladies and
gentlemen."
Senator Kelly then got into the limo where Sherry was already seated.
As they pulled out onto the highway, Kelly reached over to the wet
bar he kept secretly in his limo, and poured himself a drink. He then
turned to his assistant, and offered to pour her one as well though
she politely declined. Kelly then went on to say.
"Ms. Brown, I want you to know that I am very pleased with your
performance as my new aide. I know what a complete jack-ass I was to
my last aide, and I hope that I do not mistreat you as I did him."
"Senator…" Sherry began, but was quickly interrupted. "Let's start
with you calling Ed, alright?"
Sherry blushed a bit. "Sen…Ed, I'm very flattered that you've taken
an interest in me and all, but…" She paused.
"Let's face it, in this world today, its very popular to hate mutants
and its suicide to speak up for them." She then remembered his
daughter. "Sorry to bring that word up. However, with your wife in
Kansas, and us having to work as closely as we do, aren't you afraid
the media would just love to create a scandal between the two us?"
"Well that's the bright side to all of this, Sherry." The Senator had
a cheerful smile on his face. "My name is already shit here in
Washington. From this point on, nothing I do will be right.  As long
as I can keep the other Senators from expelling me, I only need to
stay around long enough to accomplish my goals. Then the media can do
or say whatever they want about me. It won't matter then. Besides
Sherry, it's not like I'm asking you to have an affair with me, I
just want us to be good friends, that's all."
Sherry smiled and relaxed a bit, but deep down knew the Senator was
lying.

(As some of you already know), The Medicine Wheel finally has its own
domain after leeching off the kindness of Shana for a year. :-)  You
can all find me here:

http://www.themedicinewheel.net/

Not too tricky, but notice it's .net, not .com

BUT:  If you have a personal website (or archive) that has LINKS to
TMW -- whether to the main page OR (and especially) to subpages --
please change them at your earliest convenience.  I'll have some
redirect pages on GL.com, no doubt, at least for a while, but I'll
begin REMOVING stuff from there shortly.  With all luck, this will be
my final move, since it's only our own host/server and domain. :-)

MANY, many thanks to Shana for playing host for me.  The Medicine
Wheel remains affiliated with Greymalkinlane.com, of course, as well
as Infrared, Jane-X, and Blu's Fiction.

Cheers!
--Minisinoo


__________________________________________________
Do you Yahoo!?
New DSL Internet Access from SBC & Yahoo!
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DISCLAIMERS AND SUCH ARE IN CH1

Chapter 10
To those around the table, it must have seemed that Sabretooth was
starting to feel more at home. His spontaneous grunting and growling
had nearly come to a complete stop.
Surely this was a good sign.
Sabretooth sat quietly among those once considered his enemy and
though he was no where ready to call any here his friend, he gazed at
those in his company with casual easy.
He noticed how comfortable Jean and Scott looked sitting next to each
other; even reaching under the table to hold hands. He was not yet
aware of the trouble Logan had caused for the two love birds while he
was there.
If he had, Sabretooth may have for once cheered the runt on. Perhaps
for no other reason than to see the much too handsome, too
intelligent and too heroic Scott Summers left as alone, dejected and
miserable as he.
He then observed the other couple, Ororo and Forge.
Sabretooth would never admit it to a living soul, but he kinda had a
thing for `the weather girl'. Bullying her around was his way of
flirting. Even though he scared the crap out of Storm; she never
backed down. She gave him every bit of what he deserved and he liked
that in a woman.
`So what's the tool-man got that I ain't got?' he wondered to himself
staring at the stoic Indian with half-closed eyes. Sabretooth quickly
found his answer. `Brains, dumb ass! ! Brains!'
He sighed, knowing that he was more likely to find a concession stand
selling snow-cones in hell then he would have a chance at winning
Storm's affection. He noticed that even though Storm and Forge did
not sit at the table holding hands, they looked every bit as
inseparable as the other pair.
`Weather girl's too prissy for my taste anyway. She looks like the
kind who expects the man to have manners. Bet she even makes the tool
man use a condom.' He had to think of one more bad point about Storm
however before he could let his infatuation with her go. Then it came
to him.
`Bet she don't even give head; and if she did, damn sure she don't
swallow. Humph. Forge can have her.'
Sabretooth then found himself observing Dr. McCoy and he recalled how
much it bothered Magneto that he could not convince Hank to come over
his side of the battle. `Just as well Fuzzy didn't join up with
Mags." Sabretooth thought to himself. 'I would have spent all day
just lookin' up them twenty dollar words those two like to throw
around.'
Thinking of Magneto made Sabretooth think of the Professor.
He knew that Charles and Eric had once been the closest of friends;
and even though Magneto would himself slander Charles' name in a
heart beat, he didn't hesitate to wrap some poor bastard up with a
steel beam just for calling his friend a crippled Mr. Clean.
That thought, began Sabretooth's mind on another long, deep,
contemplative, philosophical journey that he and all felines are so
fond of.
Most people would have mistaken him for being half-asleep when in
fact he was mentally examining the conflict between love and hate
itself.
*How strong was their (love and hate's) connection? Can you hate the
same thing you love? What if hate is essentially just another form of
love?*
`Hmmm…this is going to take some thinking.' Sabretooth realized.
He was able to make one conclusion at that time however.
In order to know love, you must understand hate.
He understood hate well enough. But…did he know love?
`Hmmm…yes, I have much thinking to do.'
He sat there in his chair deeply concentrating on this great mystery
unfolding in front of him, unaware and unconcerned of what was being
said around him.
He kept his eyes only partly open; an unconscious defense mechanism
that every cat relies upon.
However, just as he was about to solve the marvelous and delicate
balance between love and hate, from the corner of his eye he caught
sight of, "it", and instantly his concentration broke.
At first, he tried ignoring, "it", but with no success.
The instrument of devilish desire taunted him, teased him and enticed
him like a tempting seductress luring him into her bed.
Then, just a soft and nearly inaudible, "grrrrrrrrr…" escaped from
Sabretooth's lips as he watched the playful toy urge him to commit
mischief.
"Play with me! Play with me!" The big, bouncy, bright purple fuzzy
ball repeatedly seemed to whisper to him as it danced in the air. To
make the temptation even more unbearable, its great big goolgely eyes
that were staring at him, made a "click-click" sound every time the
ball took a sudden change of direction.
Then with speed too fast for the human eye to catch, Sabretooth was
on his feet stretching his long body toward Mercy and snatched the
purple ball of fuzz right from her hand. "My pen!" she cried.
Before he was back in his chair however, every one in the room was
ready for his next move. Forge pointed a large pistol at the
felinoid's face, Scott had his visor set to fire; not to mention the
clap of thunder everyone was sure they heard outside.
Mercy looked around the room amazed by all this show of force. "Relax
guys, it's JUST a pen!"

William Stryker had wasted no time to find a willing, loyal,
trustworthy assassin who was highly qualified to "fulfill God's
will".
The gunman waited outside of Senator Kelly's home for an opportune
moment to fire. As the limo came to a stop, and a security guard
opened the door for Senator Kelly to get out, the sniper aimed his
rifle. He watched the Senator walk up to his door with Ms. Brown
following only a step or two behind.
Just as Kelly was at the door step to his townhouse however, he
paused to allow his assistant to go inside first. The senator turned
his body just slightly and for that second he was vulnerable to the
sniper's attack.
*pink* was the only sound the bullet made as it struck Kelly in his
chest and exited from the other side.
His body guard was certain he recognized the sound, but Kelly did not
fall, nor even slump. At the very worst, he appeared to be suffering
from nothing more than a serious case of indigestion.
"Senator Kelly, are you alright?" the man suspiciously asked.
Kelly held his head up high and even gave the guard a causal
smile. "Why wouldn't I?"
The man's instincts conflicted with what the Senator told him. Still,
if Kelly was hurt, why would he deny it?
So, as much as it disturbed him, Kelly's body guard let the feeling
go.
Kelly in the mean time put his hand up to the fresh wound and quickly
grabbed Sherry by the arm. "Get rid of him, NOW!" he demanded in a
voice that Sherry had never heard before. Shocked, she looked at the
Senator's face and gasped as she found herself looking into a strange
set of yellow eyes.
Kelly hurriedly went inside, leaving Sherry to deal with the
guard. "Tell the Col. I can take it from here, Bradley." Her voice
was firm and business like. With that she promptly went inside and
closed the door on the Senator's guard, Roger Bradley.
She followed the trail of blood that led upstairs into Kelly's
bathroom. Sherry found the door partly closed; the light on and the
sink's faucet running. Carefully she walked in and found a very pale,
drained Edward Kelly struggling to keep himself conscious as he sat
on the edge of the bath tub.
"Senator," Sherry spoke softly. "You need to go to the hospital.
You…"
All Kelly was shaking his head to say "no". Then as the water in the
sink seemed to run for no apparent reason, he said in his usual
voice, "Just help me to my bed. That's all, Ms. Brown."
Sherry held out her hand for Kelly to grab onto. She helped him to
his feet, and slowly they walked to his king size bed; his blood was
beginning to soak through her business jacket and through her silk
blouse.
As they approached the edge, he collapsed in her arms.
As Sherry lowered his limp body on the bed, she watched and felt his
body transform into something bizarre.

DISCLAIMERS AND SUCH ARE IN CH1

CHAPTER 11
4:35 am; the sun was not yet up and normally only the few nocturnal
mutants who stayed in the mansion were awake at this time. But these
days were getting less and less `normal' for mutants every where.
"Monday's going to be beautiful autumn day with warm temperatures,
light westerly winds and plenty of sunshine." The weather man
predicted to his radio audience in a voice that was entirely too
chirpy for this time of the morning. "So get out side and enjoy today
because it is going to be a perfect day for the New England coast
line!"
Maybe the weather man was thinking this was going to be a perfect
day, but Scott's mood didn't agree. "Typical for the media to give us
the earliest air-time possible when it comes to clearly our names."
Scott held the passenger door to the Rolls open for Charles, while
Ororo took the driver's seat. Charles maneuvered his legs inside the
vehicle while Scott folded his chair and put it in the car as well.
"Yes, isn't it kind of Good Morning America to have me on as their
first guest;  This should give everyone who is waking up this
morning, plenty of time to just miss my interview." God had blessed
Charles with many talents; his dry sense of humor was one that may
have been Charles' personal favorite.
Before Scott closed the passenger door for Charles, the Professor had
a few last minute instructions for him.
"Scott, go ahead and assign Sabretooth some chores this morning. He
needs to feel useful."
"Unfortunately Professor, what Sabretooth's mostly useful for- is
destroying things." Scott interjected sarcastically.
"All the more reason to keep his hands busy then."
The Professor could see that Scott was still unsure of letting the
300lbs psycho-killer become a part of their pseudo family.
In his heart Scott knew that Charles always respected his opinion,
and would never talk down to him, but still he felt uncomfortable,
almost guilty every time he disagreed with him.
"Sabretooth nearly attacked Mercy at yesterday's meeting." Scott
pointed out. "Doesn't that' prove he isn't ready to be trusted?"
Charles smiled remembering the incident. "Well Scott, other than
mangling a purple ball of fuzz Mercy had glued to her pen, I believe
he behaved quite well. But yes I see your point; Sabretooth must
learn to be respectful of other people and their property. If he is
willing to apologize to Mercy for taking her pen, then he may start
performing chores."
Scott closed the door and watched the Rolls drive quietly away. `What
kind of chores do you give to a homicidal-maniac anyway?'

6:00 am; and more people in the mansion were starting to awake. Along
with the nocturnal mutants, there were also mutants in the mansion
who instinctively arose with the sun.
Scott wasn't sure exactly where his internal time clock was set. To
him, it just seemed that no matter what time of the day it was, he
was usually awake. Something Scott noticed that he and Sabretooth had
in common.
However the felinoid "cat-napped" all day, it was one of the
advantages of his mutation Scott supposed and somewhat envied.
Scott was beginning to realize that if he wanted to figure Sabretooth
out, then first he should learn more about big cats.
Rather than looking in on the felinoid however, Scott went to check
on the mansion's other `guest' who was still comatose in the
dispensary.

Dr. Grey wasn't sure just what to make of Toad's condition.
One hour the tape from the monitor would read one thing, the next it
would read something completely different and even later, it would
read the same as it did the first hour.
"It seems as if Toad's body isn't sure if it's human or amphibian."
Jean tried to explain. "By my diagnosis, Mortimer should be on his
feet by now and yet, he has shown no sign of coming out of his comma.
It's very strange."
"Well, don't turn your back on him. I trust him even less then I
trust Sabretooth." Scott re-checked the restraints holding Toad in
place, paying special attention to the gag over his mouth.
His fiancé gave him a dirty look. "Trust me, Scott, I know how
important that gag around his mouth is."
For a second, Scott felt as if he had just been caught with his pants
hanging down around his ankles. Once more his overly-protective
nature had got him into trouble with Jean.
"Alright, so I act like a chauvinist now and then. I don't mean to, I
just love you that's all." Scott tried to sound apologetic though he
didn't think to add a quick `I'm sorry' to go along with his defense,
and quiet possibly because he wasn't sorry for caring about her; just
sorry for pissing her off; again.
Jean smiled and forgave her beau knowing that there were some
qualities about him that would always be there. She loved his kind
nature, his sense of humor, his sense of honor. The fact that she
thought he was drop dead gorgeous sense the 10th grade was just a
bonus. Though his looks may someday fade, his heart would always be
the same.
But it is also likely that Scott would never change his intrusive or
some what meddling nature either.
The trauma of losing his parents in a plane crash and thinking his
bother had died, undoubtedly left permanent scars that would show
from time to time.
Jean realized the best way to love him was not to argue over his
faults and weaknesses every time they popped up unannounced.
"Well, comma or not, Wart's gotta go." Scott mentioned eager to
change the subject.
Jean's mouth dropped open a bit from shock. "Scott, you're starting
to spend too much time with Sabretooth. You're even starting to talk
like him."
Scott sighed. "You're right. I've been spending so much time with the
son-of-a-bitch that I'm actually starting to like him."
Jean gave him an unhappy look and bit her tongue.
She too had reservations about the professor's plans for Sabretooth,
but her reasons were more personal than Scott's.
"Scott." She tried to explain her feelings. "I've looked inside both
of their heads. I understand Sabretooth mostly reacts out of anger,
or fear, or, or some other negative emotion."
Chills ran down her spine as she unconsciously recalled horrible
things she had seen inside of Sabretooth's head. But then she turned
and gave the amphibinoid a dirty look. "Where Toad…well, he's just a
mean little shit, plain and simple."
"I know you would like to see Sabretooth hauled away along with his
companion, but at least here we can keep an eye on him. We can keep
him from hurting others," Scott paused and put his arm around Jean's
shoulder. "Like Betsy."
Jean nodded her head. She understood the logic to Scott's thinking
and even she saw what the Professor had seen in Sabretooth as well.
But it wasn't for what he might do in the future that disturbed her,
it was the crimes and villainy of his past.
Jean knew that staying bitter would only do harm, but she could not
let it go.
In the back of her mind Jean feared that if she forgave Sabretooth
for what he had done to a very close friend of hers, she would be
betraying that friend.
"Come on Jean, would you like some breakfast." Scott nudged her and
smiled to cheer her up.
They turned away from Toad and walked toward the elevator doors.
"I could use some food." She added hoping to get her mind off of the
evil mutants.
Moments after they left the dispensary, Toad opened his eyes and
looked around. He felt his bondages and he especially noticed the gag
in his mouth.
`How the fuck did I end up here?' He wondered.

DISCLAIMERS AND SUCH ARE IN CH1

                                                      Chapter 12

6:30 am.  William Stryker held the receiver to his ear. "Are you sure
the `package' was delivered." He demanded in code to the assassin.
"Yeah; well…sort of." The assassin choked nervously.
"Sort of?" Stryker repeated; the hired henchman hadn't made the self-
righteous lunatic angry yet, but he as certainly on the right track.
"Well, even with a silencer on the nozzle I can still tell when I've
fired a shot.  I'm positive it struck the target, but that damned ol'
son-of-a-bitch didn't go down! I'd say he didn't even budge!" The man
recalled as he explained to his leader.  "I ain't never seen nothin'
like that before, it's like it didn't even faze him."
Stryker listened carefully to his henchman's words, but did not care
to express his suspicions to him.
`Interesting.' Stryker thought to himself. `Could this be why he
changed on us?' he wondered.
"Thank you. That will be all then." Stryker hung up on the man with
out another word.
Just then Ms. Perry his secretary came into his office as Stryker sat
down at his desk to begin a new week of cleansing the world of
genetic out-casts.
With out asking her, Ms. Perry poured her savior a fresh cup of
coffee, poured in just the right amount of sugar, and stirred it up
for him before handing it to him.
"Thank you Ms. Perry." He smiled as he took his coffee out of her
steady hand.
"Your welcome sir. Will there be any thing else?" Ms. Perry responded
in her typically professional, polite, dignified and `normal' style.
"Yes, I need you to round up a top notch surveillance team. I want to
find out what the hell is going on with Kelly. Also, Ms. Perry, open
the cabinet doors to the TV and find my remote. I want to see what
this…'Professor X' has to say and be sure to hold all calls and I'll
see no one until this *ahem* interview is over."
  "Yes, sir; I'll have the team ready by this afternoon." On her way
out, Ms. Perry reached over and opened the door on the solid oak
cabinet and handed Stryker his remote as he made himself comfortable
behind his desk.
She closed the door to his office, and went to her office. Quietly
she opened her desk drawer checking to see her pistol was still there.

`Mmmm…A good night's rest; that's what I needed.' Mystique sighed and
peacefully smiled to herself as she lay in the bed, in a dream like
state. Only to be startled awake with a jolt as her mind was flooded
with memories from the previous evening's events.
Still being alive wasn't such a big surprise to her, she'd been
through worse. The surprise came from not having some G-man jerk-off
in her face, or at the very least, not waking up in a jail cell.
But what was especially surprising to Mystique was having her newest
injuries cleaned, dressed and properly bandaged; that she had been so
thoughtfully tucked in bed; and the fact that the alarm on the clock
had been turned off, just so she could sleep in on a Monday morning
was the biggest shock of all!
There was still a God awful burning sensation where the bullet had
entered and exited from her chest, but at least it would seem she had
a guardian angel looking out for her, and she was sure she knew that
angel's name.
`Shit.' She murmured to herself. `Sherry knows.'
Mystique was consumed with both fear and shame. A kind of self-hate
took over her mind as she imagined what Sherry must have thought when
she saw her for what she really was.
It made her resent Sherry for discovering her dirty little secret. No
longer did she long for the woman's soft touch or lust for the sweet
savor of her juices. All of that was gone now as a kind of cold,
uncaring, callousness waxed over Mystique's heart. `Guess it just
wasn't meant to be.' She sadly sighed and thought to herself.
Mystique looked over and saw the strawberry blonde was in fact in the
room with her, sleeping in an over-sized lounging chair she had
pulled up next to the bed.
She had brought in her pillow and a blanket and had apparently had
kept a watchful eye over Mystique during the night.
But why, Mystique wondered.
She tried to get up without alerting Sherry, only to find her head
was spinning out of control, and her stomach wanted to turn its self
inside out.
Mystique figured she had enough strength to get up and flee, or shape-
shift; but not enough to do both. Apparently the bullet had hit an
artery causing her to loose a serious amount of blood.
Her clever mind shifted into over-drive as she tried to devise a plan.
`I can fix this, I know I can; I can fix anything!' She reassured her
self repeatedly.
She tried to recall anything she might have heard about Sherry Brown
that she could use to her advantage. All she could recall about the
woman however, was just how dull the resume had been. Sherry came
right out of Pleasantville USA, from the way she described herself.
But she was an out spoken supporter for mutant rights. That much made
her interesting any way. Maybe she could be trusted.
Unfortunately, Mystique was not the trusting kind and this was not
the sort of circumstances she wanted to try something new.
Still…it was pretty much the only option Mystique had to work
with. 'Well if worse comes to worse, I can always kill her.' Mystique
assured herself.

Even though Scott and Jean had intended to go to the dining hall for
breakfast, somehow they ended up back in their bedroom instead.
Sub-consciously Scott and Jean both knew that their relationship
needed a little pick-me-up now that Logan had come along.

It started out with the two standing together next to the bathroom
sink when Jean gave Scott an innocent but flirtatious pat on the
rear.
Scott returned the jest by putting a dab of shaving cream on the tip
of her nose.
Next came a splash of water from the sink; then another. Soon both
were in need of a change of dry clothes.
Still aware that they had to make this a `quickie', they helped each
other undress. Scott took in the lovely sight of Jean's naked body
right before she removed his ruby band glasses.
He shut his eyes tight, as they both gracefully lay down on top of
the covers, kissing and caressing each other's perfect bodies.
Soon Jean took control, and climbed on top of Scott, taking his
manhood deep inside her as she rested herself on top of his groin.
At first she began to move slowing, making sure she was taking him in
completely with every stroke. Within moments she began to squeeze and
contract her vaginal muscles in that oh-so teasing way that made
Scott yearn for more.
They began moving together in opposite directions, making the
penetration that more intense.
Had they more time, this would have been only the beginning of a very
remarkable love-making session, but as it was, this would just have
to do.
Not that either homo-superior was complaining.
Within minutes, Scott exploded in her like a cannon at revelry and
Jean accepted it all in with joyous glee.
Their relationship was almost back to normal.
But even still, Scott hopped that Logan's face hadn't been on Jean's
mind.

Sabretooth hadn't slept a wink. Instead, he had spent the whole night
thinking.
He thought about his past; he thought about his regrets; and about
his mistakes.
He thought about those who had wronged him and those he held
responsible for his hate.
He thought about his present; about his new roost; about the new
people in his life.
He thought about his strengths; and about his weaknesses.
He thought about his future; did he even have one to count on? Where
would it be? Here? Or back there? Or was there something out there
yet to come?
In his heart he knew none of that really mattered. Survival was the
name of the game.
That's all that ever mattered.
But every time he settled his mind, Charles' haunting words echoed in
like a great and distant bell.
*Maybe this is all meant to be,* and *are you happy*
`Pah! What nonsense!' The cat-man observed to himself. `All my life,
I ain't never seen nobody happy. Happiness is just a wisp of smoke
that no one can hold onto.' He would try to comfort himself with
other cold and cynical words, as he tossed in his bed on side then to
the other, only to start complaining to himself about the size of his
too small bed.

`Meant to be. Who the hell does Charles think he's foolin'?'
Sabretooth growled to no one but himself just before he gave up
trying to find a comfortable spot on the bed.
He got up and started doing sit-ups as his mind raced out of control.
`He's just tryin' to brainwash me, that's what this is;
brainwashing.' He tried to convince himself.
`Mags said Charles was bad about brainwashing.'
He had long lost count of his repetitions, but figured he was
probably up to two or three hundred by now.
`He wants me to stop thinking about escaping and start thinking about
this dumb, stupid, idiotic bullshit. But I'm on to him; he ain't
gonna get nothing over on me.' He kept pride fully reminding himself.
But no matter how much he believed these questions weren't worth
finding answers to, the more they bugged him.
`I just need to wait until Mags realizes how much he needs me around;
then I can blow this pop sickle joint.' That was the only comforting
thought Sabretooth found that night.
Needless to say Sabretooth was not in the best of moods when Scott
came to get him that morning.

This is all I have for now. I saw that the message board hard slowed
down some around here and thought I'd put this up to keep the group
active.
I've been posting this story up on a group that is just for
Sabretooth fans and I get in about a chapter done a week.
I will keep sending this story out a chapter at time time until it's
finished. Hope you enjoy.    -Linda J.

She’s Gonna Make It
By Nadja Lee                                     11/09/02

English is not my native language. Please forgive me my mistakes.

Disclaimer: “X-men” and all the characters here belong to Marvel, 20 Century Fox
and I intend no infringement, this is a piece of amateur fan fiction, and I make
no money of it.

Disclaimer: “She’s Gonna Make It” was sung by Garth Brooks and belong to him,
his record company and song writers and I intend no infringement, this is a
piece of amateur fan fiction, and I make no money of it.

Only the original idea contained within this work is the property of the author.
Please do not copy this story to any website or archive without permission of
the author.

Timeline: Set in the movie universe. After movie

Universe: Set in the movie universe; NOT the book which goes with it.

Romance: Scott/Jean

Summary: After Scott and Jean’s break-up it becomes clear through Logan and
Ororo that she’s gonna make it…while he never will.

Archiving: Want, ASK, take,  have.

Feedback: Yes, please. My e-mail address is nadjalee2000@...

Rating: PG-13

Sequel/series: Part of “Thoughts” which includes “Tears On My Cheeks”,  “Who
Needs You Anyway?” and “The Charm Of A Woman”. This series doesn’t have a
continuing plotline but are stories written with the same flow and style. You
therefore do not need to read the earlier stories, as they have nothing plotwise
to do with this one.

Thanks to Estelle for the beta.



*                    *                      *



She’s gonna make it; no question about that. She’s strong and confident. It was
her choice to begin their relationship and it was her decision to end it. Yeah,
she’s gonna make it; I doubt he ever will.

She has strength, a will to carry on; she looks to the future and doesn’t drawl
on the past. She can pick up the pieces by herself; the broken pieces of her
heart will not cut her up inside….no, they’ll melt together and she’ll find
someone new.

Sometimes I do catch a glimmer of sadness or pain in her eyes but then she
stands up and blinks the tears she refuses to let fall away and gives me a
beautiful smile. She’s strong, she’ll move on….never looking back. Yeah, she’s
gonna make it.

  She’s a survivor but more than that; she’s a fighter. She has fought most of
her life; for her career and her status. She is used to having respect and full
control over everything she touches. She’s the embodiment of a modern woman;
strong, confident, smart, independent….alone by choice only until she wants
someone but she can get by alone; she’s strong…she doesn’t need anyone.

Looking at her you can’t help but admire her, love her and want her but she
won’t let you catch her. She’s free and she enjoys her wings. She’s like a bird;
you can only hold it in your hand for a short while then you have to let it
go…or you’ll strangle it. She’s the impossible dream you can’t hold on to after
the passing of dawn.

  One day when she’s ready she’ll settle down, she’ll do all the things she wants
to but in her own sweet time. No one can hold her down or bind her. She’s
free…like the bird.

And that’s why I know…she’s gonna make it.



~ Logan



It pains my heart but I know this for sure; he’ll never make it. First I was
hopeful that time would heal a broken heart but now I see it won’t. When you
love too deeply and too much you end up being unable to let go.

A dream has ended but he can’t find a new one to put in its place. Drawling on
the past only increases his pain at the loss he has suffered. He hides his pain
well, he always did but I see it, I know it’s there. It’s alright to hurt but
everyone needs to move on or the hurt will stay forever.

The fact that she manages so well without him only cuts him deeper. He thought
he could bind her with his love that she would need him but now he sees he was
the one who needed her.

His heart is like broken glass laying shattered on the floor, the pieces cut
painfully into his flesh. Each memory is a new piece that cuts deeper. Broken
hearts can heal if you let them, given enough time. Time he has but the will to
do so I’m not so sure about.

Strength is many things; often holding on is good but not now. Let go, just let
go. There’s nothing else to do. Respect the choices she has made, honour the
love she gave and then move on. Don’t love this deeply…..no one loves this
deeply these days….no one but he. No matter whom he would have chosen to lay his
love on they would have let him down eventually because no one loves this deeply
these days.

The passing of time and the changed seasons have helped a little, his pain isn’t
so clear anymore but I feel it all the same. I wish I could help him with his
pain but it’s his pain to deal with; I have no right to tread there.

She hasn’t changed, it wasn’t her. He knew how she was and still he loved her;
he loved her because of what she was. He loved her strength and her
independence…her freedom and her desire to fly free. But those are dangerous
traits to love in another because it ended like it always must; she broke free
and flew away and he was left with nothing but a broken heart. No, this isn’t on
her, it was never her fault. She never asked him to love this deeply. It’s not
on him either; he can’t help but to love so completely; with all his being and
all his soul but there’s a reason why no one does that anymore…….when you give
your soul away be sure you can either get it back or get theirs in return. He
never made any demands for either and so lost it all.

She’s strong, she’s free so I know; she’s gonna make it. He loved too deeply, he
tried to put a wild bird in a cage but you can never tame a wild animal; they’ll
always long for the wild and always wish to fly free.

He gave it all with no way to get back what he gave; he cared too much, loved
too deeply; gave too much…….made a great gamble…and he lost.

And that’s why I know…she’s gonna make it….he never will.





~Ororo







The End

Not Another X-Men Parody! Part IV: In Which It All Goes Wrong, and
Act One Ends!

Disclaimer in part one

Archive:  DDFH, Black Phoenix Queen

Archive Notes:  The end of Act one.  When posted please post parts 1-
4 as one act.  Thanks.

  *  Songs are the original work of the author, the characters belong
to someone else, kinda   *

Previously:  Mustard Streaks and the Weanieman were taken to Xavier's
Excellent Accommodations, Dr. Jean Fraudian and the Wonderboy had a
fight, Kitty had one line, and the Lonesome Crooner broke into the
grounds………

"I'll tell you why I'm here.  And the Lonesome Crooner sang again…"


"I have no time to sit and whine
about the memories, we both know
But time is cruel and marches on
and leaves us empty handed.

Charles:

Lonesome, where are you going?
What are you doing?
Have you forsaken me?

Lonesome:

Twas I who was left out in the cold!
You built your school, and took the children
Your little family survived
all the while, I was dying inside

Charles:

We parted ways, we had no choice
You wanted the world
and I'm a pac-ifist
There was nothing else to say

Weanieman:

Would you two stop crying
and get to the freaking point?


Lonesome:

I'm a bad guy, that's what I am!
I'm nasty and mean and ruthlessly cruel
I kidnap little girlies
and use them to stop the world

I've said too much of my plan, I fear that I must jet!
However, you've got telepaths, you'll figure it out yet!
The meeting was lovely and Charles I love you
but now we say goodbye!

Check your bedrooms and your closets
You'll find the missing key
Te hee

Te he, he , heeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Without a further note the Lonesome Crooner disappeared with his
cohorts with a writhing package flung over the shoulder of one.  It
began to wail…

Mustard Streaks:

Please put me down,
I dislike heights
and I get motion sic-
*   ralphing noise  *  too late.

"That's disgusting!  Onto the search!"


The Search of the mansion……

"The kids are all present and accounted for sir."  the boy wonder
said.

"And the goats?"

"All in the bedroom."   Dr. Fraudian said, looking a little flushed.

"The pheasants?"  Charles asked.

"With the chickens, sloth, and eye of Wisteria" the Enegmatic one
stated rapturously.

"There is one that's missing"  the Weanieman began in a voice that
shook with anguish.

"Who?  We have the farm animals, and the kids, who'd be gone?"

"The only one with hair of that shade."

"Mustard Streaks!"  Everyone chimed in together.

"We've gotta saver her!"  the Weanieman lamented.

"But, how?  The Lonesome crooner has her now.  I'm afraid she's
sentenced to DOOM."

"Wait a minute, he must have left behind clues in his singing.  He
always gives himself away!"  the Wonderful Leader boy said
excitedly.

" He said something about kidnapping little girlies and using them to
end the world!"

"But what does that mean?" Jean wailed.

"It means he kidnapped the streaked girl, and is going to try and end
the world."  Charles explained impatiently.

The Weanieman shot the metal from his arms and said, "Not while these
prongs are still standing."

All was silent…….

To be continued in Act II …….