Rating: PG-13

Author: Maggie Foster

Characters: Rogue,Storm,Night Crawler, Mystique, Sabretooth, Prof.
Xavier, Scott, and ofcourse my Character: I don't own anything except
my character!

Feedback: Please!!

Hey everyone!  So here comes chap. 5.  Before I start though I want
to address some feedback I got, just so everyone will kind of
understand my thought process while writing the story.

~The first was, someone told me Jean is not dead, she becomes the
Phoenix.  I am aware of this and I have done much research on it, I'm
not exactly sure what I will do with this yet though.  I don't know
if I'm going to put her in my story or not yet.

~The second was that people do not burn at the stake anymore that
burning was from more barbaric times.  I am also aware of this and
when I decided that was the way she was going to be executed I did it
to prove something.  And that was that even though the people of this
time are so advanced they will still resort back to the barbaric ways
of the past when they are scared and or ignorant on a certain
subject.  The people were scared of mutants so they resorted to their
carnivoral state of using barbaric ways on the things they are
ignorant of.

I hope that clears up any misunderstandings about the story and I
really respect and look forward to reading everyone's feed back and
reviews so keep it coming!  Enjoy!  ~Me

****
The flames raged all around the mutant and Kurt was contemplating
whether or not to make a rush at the mutant and just pull her out of
there.  But no he had to wait until the time was right.  Another
minute of nervousness went by….the time was right he decided, Kurt
signaled Storm to work her magic as the flames started to get higher
and higher.

Kurt waited a couple of seconds, what was taking her so long?  He
gave the signal a couple more times getting more and more anxious as
the seconds past, what the hell was she waiting for?  All of the
sudden a bolt of lightning flashed through the sky it was brilliant
white and Kurt had to shield his eyes because the bolt was so bright.

****

A bright bolt of lightning flashed overhead.

All of the people in crowd turned to see as the lightning hit a tree
limb and the limb cracked and fell slowly to the ground.  The crack
was almost deafening and that was exactly the kind of distraction
that Mystique had been waiting for.  She untied the thick rope that
was around the mutant's hands from wooden pole behind her as it began
to rain.  The curtains in front of the stage slowly began to come
together and there was a loud booing coming from the crowd.

A voice boomed over the PA system, "I'm sorry folks but though the
mutant's execution will continue we will have to keep the curtains
shut so that the rain does not put out the flames."

That was obviously something the do-good "Xmen" had not foreseen
because the executioner ran off the stage and came back with a pail
of water that had been set under the stage to put out the fire when
the execution was over
.
If he through that water on the fire it would ruin Mystique's plan,
the people had to believe the mutant was dead and that would be
impossible if the flames were put out because it would be obvious
that the mutant was not dead.

"Stop!" She shouted, "I have this under control, she will not die.
Go outside the curtain and make sure no one is coming in and I will
get her out of this."

"Mystique, why should I trust you?" Kurt asked as the wooden pole
fell back onto the floor behind her and Mystique caught the mutant as
she was also falling backwards.

"You shouldn't," Mystique said with a sly grin as Sabretooth barreled
through the back curtain with another woman in his arms.

Sabretooth sat the other woman down and picked the other up and
started for the stage exit while Mystique stayed behind to tie the
other woman up.

****

Kurt ran after Sabretooth as fast as he could while yelling into his
hidden microphone, "THEY HAVE HER, THEY'RE GOING OUT THE BACK!"  Kurt
broke through the back curtain and leaped off the stage as Scott ran
around the side of the stage and met Kurt.

"Kurt!  He's headed for a car on the other side of that hill.  I'll
go left, the jet is above us right now, so you go right and use your
teleporting powers to get her up to the jet then come back for me
alright?"

"Alright, if I can get close enough."  Kurt went right and found a
wide tree to hide behind as he waited for Sabretooth to become
stationary again.

Sabretooth stopped at the back of a big suburban, opened the trunk
and gently laid the unconscious mutant in the back.  After the mutant
was safely in the trunk a red laser shot across the open field
hitting its mark, the tires, causing them to deflate.

Sabretooth ducked behind the van, Kurt took this opportunity.  He
vanished and reappeared right beside the van grabbed the mutant and
teleported up to the jet as quickly as he could.

****

Scott saw Kurt take the mutant and disappear.  Sabretooth jumped up
to try to grab Kurt but he was already gone.  Saretooth stood
dumbfounded for a moment as if he weren't sure what had just
happened.

Kurt reappeared beside Scott, "Let us go now."

"Wait, let's have little fun," Scott smirked and used his laser to
sear off a part of Sabretooth's tooth and laughed.

Kurt smiled and grabbed Scott.

When they reappeared in the jet Scott immediately looked around the
jet to make sure everyone was there.  Marie was holding the mutants
head in her lap while Ororo tried to take care of the burns on the
mutant's legs.

"Has she woken up yet?"

"No," Marie responded with a concerned look in her eyes.  The
mutant's face was ashen and her lips were almost blue.

"I wish Jean were here," Ororo said aloud without thinking.  Ororo
looked up at Scott apologetically.

Scott nodded his head as he went over to sit by Marie; the mutant was
so beautiful, how could she be a murderer?  As Scott stroked the
woman's head he knew that she couldn't be a killer.

"How is she doing?" the Prof. asked from the control helm at the
front of the jet.

"Not well," Ororo replied, "We need to get her to a hospital."

"We will be at the mansion any minute and I've already called for a
doctor to come so just try to keep her stable until then."

"I will but you must hurry, I think she is very close to death."
Almost as soon as that was said the mutant started going into a
seizure.

WARNING: I love Logan; Really I do. But I wasn't very nice to him in
this fic.

DISCLAIMER: The X-Men aren't mine. Boo-hoo. I only get to take them
out and play with them if I promise I won't break them. I won't be
making any money from this either.

RATING: PG (Pretty tame stuff from what I usually do.)

SUMMARY: Wolverine has a little black cloud following him. You can
just guess who put it there-- but why?

UNIVERSE/TIMELINE: both are non-specific

FEEDBACK: Like I said, I won't be making any money from this, so
feedback is the only thing I can get out of it.
adnilnosnhoj@...

THE LITTLE BLACK CLOUD
By Linda J.

Logan ignored the stares and pointing fingers as he rode his Harley
through traffic.
Even though he was used to having people give him strange looks
because they suspected he was a mutant, he was not used to having
people literally pull their cars over and gawk at him with open
mouths.
He pulled up to the red light, patiently waiting for it to change,
when yet another well-meaning moron rolled her window down.
"Sir…" the lady said only to have the feral completely ignore
her. "Sir!" she spoke up.
Logan sighed to himself and turned his head to look across the way.
"Um, did you know you have a black cloud hanging right above your
head?"
Logan paused for a moment to pull the sopping wet, dripping hair that
normally flared out on the sides of his face out of his eyes, and
wiped the droplets of water from his facial hair.
"Thanks for the newsflash, lady. I would have never guessed that on
my own."
The woman huffed, offended by Logan's remarks, and rolled up her
window as she muttered to herself about never understanding why some
people have to be so rude.
When the light changed, Logan went his way and pulled into the gas
station while, strangely, the little black cloud actually moved along
with him, constantly hovering above the feral's head.
He pulled up to the gas pumps and got off his bike, his wet hair back
in his eyes as the little cloud endlessly showered away.
Two young boys in the SUV parked at the island across from Logan
stared and pointed at him and his little black cloud.
"Hey Mister…There's a little black cloud hanging over your head," the
older of the two kept repeating to Logan from his window.
Only because Logan didn't feel comfortable using the words he was
thinking of in front of children their age, he ignored them
completely and quietly filled up his tank. He then walked to the door
of the store, with his cloud never leaving its post. Logan opened the
door and dashed inside, quickly closing the door behind. For a moment
the cloud hovered outside as if it was lost and confused. Then
suddenly it squeezed its way through the top crack of the door, and
like a heat seeking missile, the little black cloud found its target.
The rain poured freely and it seemed to rumble a happy greeting as it
made its way back to Logan and resumed its position above his head.
Logan sighed, moved over to the candy aisle, and picked up a small
box of imported chocolates. He then went to the counter to pay for
his gas and candy when he saw a small selection of flower bouquets
for sale as well. He picked out a rose, a beautiful white one, and
set everything on the counter.
Parke, the store clerk who had waited on the mutant often and was
somewhat familiar with Logan, glanced up to not only see his
customer, but that his customer had a cloud hanging over his head,
and that the cloud was getting water everywhere!
"Ah, Logan…" the clerk used his best professional courtesy. "Normally
I don't allow customers to bring weather phenomena into the store."
Logan grumbled and glared but said nothing as he tried to ever so
calmly to hand the man the money that was due. "Sorry about the mess
Parke; just one of those things."
"Yeah, I've had a few nights like that myself," Parke sympathized
with Logan's ordeal as he quickly bagged the bought items and handed
them back to Logan.
"But next time you'll have to leave your cloud outside the store,"
Parke said as he reached over for a handful of napkins and started to
wipe up the fresh rain water from his front counter.
"Like I had any damned choice about it this time," Logan growled
under his breath as he stepped outside and headed back to his bike.
He returned to the X-Mansion with his little black cloud tagging
faithfully along.
Logan walked up to the mansion's front door with bag in hand as Rogue
opened the door, only to see him standing outside, soaked to the bone
as the rain continued to pour down on him.
"You look like a drowned rat!" she half way joked with her favorite
feral.
He growled menacingly at her as he walked inside, black cloud and all.
"Here…" He handed the bagged rose and candy to Rogue. "Give this to
her."
"She doesn't want your trinkets, Logan. She wants an apology!" Rogue
reminded him.
"I ain't making no apologies and that's final." Logan
insisted. "Where's Chuck? He can put a stop to this."
"In his study." Rogue shook her head as she answered his
question. "Why do you guys find it so hard to apologize?" she
wondered.
"'Cause I don't owe her one!" he yelled back at her as he made his
way down the hall toward Charles' study, still carrying the bag he
brought in with him.
Before he could knock on the door, however, Charles called to him to
come inside. Logan opened the door to the study just as the little
black cloud seemed to darken and rumble as if it were angry at him.
Charles blinked a few times as if even he was taken by the odd sight
of seeing a tiny cloud about twelve inches in diameter hanging ever
so casually over Logan's sopping wet head.
"Logan…" For a moment Charles wasn't sure if he could continue his
conversation with a straight face. "How long are you going to let
this continue?"
"I'm not the one you need to ask!" Logan angrily defended himself.
Charles tried to explain. "I understand it's very difficult for a
proud man like you to admit when he's wrong, but sometimes for the
sake of keeping peace, not to mention keeping the furniture and
carpeting dry, one must swallow his pride and do what he must do."
"Oh, so that's how it is?" Logan protested. "You're taking her side
on this; fine," he grumbled and walked away.
"She's upstairs in her room if you're interested," Charles thought to
tell him as he left.
"Well I'm not!" Logan insisted as he marched defiantly away and
headed for the danger room instead. The little black cloud (of
course) went along.
When he arrived, it was apparent that Jean and Scott had just
finished their exercise and were ready to leave. The two saw him
standing there, trying to act as if there was nothing extraordinary
about having a little black cloud raining and thundering above his
head.
"It's a good thing you've got that healing factor," Scott
teased, "otherwise you'd be asking for one hell of a cold."
Logan merely glared at him while Jean offered her towel to Logan to
dry his face and hair. He took her towel and began wiping the water
away, for what good it did as the rain continued to pour down on him.
Jean gave him a sympathetic look and shook her head. "Just go
upstairs and apologize to her, Logan."
Logan rolled his eyes. "How many damned times do I have to repeat
myself? I didn't do anything I need to apologize for!"
"Logan…" Scott offered some advice. "To women, it doesn't matter if
you did anything wrong or not. They just like to hear men say they're
sorry."
Jean didn't hesitate to give him a nice punch on the arm for that
remark.
"Ouch." Scott rubbed where she had hit him. "Sorry Jean."
After a moment went by, Scott added, "See what I mean?"
Jean huffed. "I think I just might see if Storm wouldn't mind putting
a cloud over your head, Scott," she said as she walked away.
"See what you started?" Scott chastised Logan.
Logan was speechless as he watched Scott catch up with Jean and try
to talk her out of this very bad idea.
"But I DIDN'T start this!" he finally yelled at Scott and Jean just
as the two turned the corner at the end of the hall.
Once more he tried again to slam the door on his new wet shadow as he
entered the danger room, only to have it squeeze its way through an
air vent and make its way back to him; once more Logan tried his best
to endure the constant gentle rain that poured down on his head. When
he finished, for whatever reason, the workout just didn't perk him up
like it normally did; Logan was starting to feel depressed.
About that time, Kurt showed up to do his daily workout routine, as
well as get a look at Logan's very own personalized thunderstorm for
himself.
"I didn't believe what I was hearing," the German openly
admitted. "Surely making one simple apology could not be worse than
what you must be going through now, my friend," Kurt gently offered
his advice. But Logan wasn't hearing any of it.
"For the last time…" The feral felt his rage coming frightfully out
of control. "I'm not going to apologize when I did nothing wrong!"
And with that he stormed off with his little black cloud storming as
well.
Solemnly Logan opened the door to his bedroom and looked up at the
cloud as it softly rumbled to him. "Well c'mon, Dripalong." He
finally decided to give it a name as he began to accept the idea that
it was going to stay with him for good.
He thought maybe a nice hot shower would help lift his spirits, so he
tried to take one only to have the little cloud follow him into the
shower stall as well! Even when he sat down on the commode, the black
cloud never left its post.
"For crying out loud!" He was even now starting to talk to it. "Can't
a guy get some privacy?"
As Logan got himself dressed, the cloud drenched his clothes before
he even had them on.
He went to the kitchen to get something to eat, with the cloud
faithfully hovering over head. He ate his soggy sandwich
alone.
He went to the parlor only to have everyone insist he should leave
before his "new buddy" shorted out the TV, and he should apologize to
Storm before she started having lightning bolts shoot out from the
little black cloud hanging over his head.
"Never!" he declared and went to bed early that night.
The little black cloud rained on over him as he lay in bed, slowly
soaking his sheets and mattress, but stubbornly the feral refused to
give in to the weather witch's demands for an apology as he tossed
and turned throughout the night until finally he could take no more.
With his skin soaked to the bone, Logan stomped his way to Storm's
bedroom.
BAM! BAM! BAM! Faces popped out of every room on the second floor as
everyone heard him pound on her door.
"Storm!" Logan furiously yelled out her name. "I know you're awake!
You can't control weather phenomena when you're sleeping!"
Once again he pounded his angry fist on her door. BAM! BAM! BAM!
Then calmly, coolly, Ororo opened her door with a placid look on her
face. She wore her modest white gown made of silk. She offered him no
greeting as she stood there waiting for him to say something first.
For a moment he huffed and puffed with his little black cloud still
overhead; although to him, it almost felt like the showering had
eased up a bit as he stood in her highness' presence.
Finally he spoke up. "Look Storm," Logan made his statement through
clenched teeth, .  "this afternoon when I said you made the meanest
pot of chili I ever ate?  It…was…a COMPLIMENT!"
Ororo's expression never changed as she considered what he just told
her. Then finally she looked up at the little black cloud and watched
it disappear.
"Good night Logan," she calmly said as she closed the door on him and
went back to bed.
Logan just stood there for a moment, trying to make sense of what had
just happened and of the whole day in general. Finally he turned to
leave and went back to his room to change into some dry clothes, and
quietly headed downstairs.
`I'm not even married and still a woman managed to kick me out of my
bed and onto the couch.' he thought to himself as he curled up and
closed his eyes for (at last) a good night's sleep.
-THE END

(edited by "icemanofks"….and yes, I WILL be charging Ororo double
next time I see her in the store…)

Title: X-Book 3: Within the Storm - Chapter One: Xavier Prepares

By: Kath713/Leen713

Rating: PG-13 (violence, language)

Genre: Crossover, SPOILERS FOR X2

Summary: see prologue for book 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing in regards to the Marvel characters or
any character from a previously published source portrayed in this
story.

Reviews: Any feedback would be great and is appreciated!

***

Chapter 1:

Charles Xavier sat quietly in his alloy wheel chair, now locked
securely into two specially designed tracks in the jet's floor,
listening to the minds of everyone around him.  Cyclops and
Wolverine sat in the two front pilot seats, silent and focused.
Nightcrawler was perched comfortably in the passenger seat to
Xavier's left, sporting his X-uniform for the first time outside
of the Danger Room, and looking anxious.

Xavier did not need to pass over Kurt's mind to know his worries
were about the two companions send back to the mansion, left
unconscious by the Sentinel's attack.  Wolverine's face was
dark and brooding, his eyes scanning the sky outside the jet's
front
windows, his thoughts on his enemies…and not simply the soldiers
following them.  Cyclops quickly navigated the controls, short-
handed without Storm, his mind free of all concerns except their
current mission, follow Magneto, find those taken, get everyone out
alive…

With a slow deep breath, Xavier cleared the lingering thoughts of
the others from his own.  The present X-Men were trained well, and
ready for their mission at hand, and he was confident that each was
in the right frame of mind for their task.

Xavier closed his eyes and his brow creased with concentration.  As
the jet moved quickly after Magneto and the Sentinel, Xavier allowed
his power to expand beyond those around him and he felt…and
listened.

Below their path of flight, the emotions and thoughts of thousands
filled his mind like sparks of light in the shadows.  Human or
mutant, he did not always know. Without the enhancing effects of
Cerebro, it was much more difficult to tell the difference.  There
was just light, and life, and any prejudices existing on the ground
were lost in its radiance.

Xavier reached out, seeking one particular mind, one he knew he
could not touch, but he also knew the others in Magneto's
Brotherhood were not equipped against psychic influence.  If he
could locate them, focus and communicate through one of the others,
he would be able to speak to Erik, find out what he planned to do
when he found the Sentinel.

He listened, his mind closing in on his target.  Thoughts quickly
passed, from the ground, from other aircraft, jumping forward faster
and faster towards Magneto's stolen helicopter.

One mind spoke, I have to remember to call him back…

Another mind, This is so boring…I can't wait to get…

Another mind, I hope we're landing soon, my legs are falling
asleep…

Another, Oh, God, how am I going to tell my parents I'm a
muta…

Another, She always lectures, I wish she would just shut up…



             Hundreds of minds…dozens…less and
less…closing in…

          It's so dark…I can't remember where I put my
keys…


                            I really love those shoes…

               I need to get out of here…I can't take it
anymore…

Why do they always have to fight…

                                               Stop it, just stop it!

There's been a lot of turbulence on this flight…getting cold
so fast…

                       How long has it been? Damn, I forgot my
watch…

Where are we heading…
What's happening…
How much longer…
Can't hear myself think over this racket…
I'm so tired…
Jeez, I need some Tylenol…
I have to catch the stewardess next time she…



Mom...where are you?

Xavier opened his eyes after the last thought.  It had been much
closer than the rest, and the sorrow he heard there startled him.
He was still frowning, listening as the voice he heard spoke again.

<<I wish Becca were here...We always promised they would never
separate us again...What the hell am I going to do...Stuck with
these people on this stupid jet...I still have my phone, I should
try to call Sebastian...God knows where he is by now...Wonder if we
could get contractors out to the house before he comes back…>>

At this thought, Xavier heard a very quiet and shaky chuckle from
the rear passenger seats.  He suddenly realized who the thoughts
belonged to, why they had seemed so close.

Using the controls at his right hand, Xavier rolled his chair
backwards slightly and it clicked free of the floor restraints.
Nightcrawler gave him a curious glance as the Professor turned and
headed toward the back of the jet.  He smiled confidently at the
worried blue mutant, who then steepled his three fingers together in
silent meditation and stared forward again.

In the last seat along the wall, Sid Malloy sat with his head
leaning back against the headrest.  His metallic blue eyes stared
unblinkingly at the ceiling, as the expressions on his face changed
with his thoughts.  The stern and angry certainty he had when they
first boarded the jet had faded into a blank unemotional stare.
Now, his trepidation about his situation made his face looked
troubled, and very young.

The holes in his suit and shirt were ringed with blood, the only
evidence left of the multiple gunshot wounds he suffered less than a
half hour before.  In his right hand, his fist closed and relaxed
over a spherical piece of glass, which molded itself to the changing
pressure of his grip.  The sphere was not clear, but discolored and
hazy, sign of his concern, a distraction from his powers, as much as
his sad thoughts had distracted Xavier.

The Professor approached the young man cautiously.  Sid's eyes
were scanning the uppermost parts of the jet intently.  Suddenly, he
smirked and sighed.  Xavier listened to his thoughts and smiled
again.

This thing is so out of date, Sid thought loudly, I should give them
a few tips for improving it after we get out of this…

Sid sighed again, and then noticed Xavier sitting nearby.  He
swallowed nervously, and looked back toward the ceiling.

"Did you find it yet?" he asked, and Xavier nodded.

"Yes," he replied, "We're tracking the Sentinel west,
as well as Magneto's helicopter…"

"So, he really was Erik Lensherr," Sid interrupted quietly,
and then turned his head slightly, "I guessed that when he threw
my
car across the fucking lawn."

"You know about him, then?" Xavier asked curiously.

Sid nodded, "Council sent out a memo after Liberty Island."

The young man laughed and then continued, "Do you believe that?
A fucking memo.  Way to take an active role in addressing the
`mutant phenomenon,' huh?"

Xavier did not look surprised, "The Council…have never been
activists, of any sort.  How do you know of them?"

Sid finally turned his head to look at the Professor and his eyes
grew very dark.

"Don't you mean why do they know of us?" he replied with
bitter sarcasm, "They watch.  They've watched us for
years…keep
waiting for one of us to do something interesting, I guess.  I
disappoint them more often than not…"

Sid laughed again, as if sharing a joke with someone who was not
there.  Xavier thought his words felt hallow, lacking of something,
a voice without an echo.

"But, your sister does not disappoint?" Xavier asked,
"She shares your mother's gifts…"

"What the hell do you know about my mother?" Sid shot
viciously at him, meeting the Professor's eyes with a sharp gaze.


Xavier imagined the young man's hard stare could have intimidated
many opponents, however, the Professor was not one of his friends in
the business world or some pampered high class investor who never
faced a challenger like Sid.  Xavier had worked with angry, hateful
adolescents for too many years to be unsettled by Sid's biting
words.

"I know more of her than about her," Xavier admitted, his voice
never losing its calm, even tone, "Although I did meet
her…once, on the Council's request.  Myself…and Erik
Lensherr…many
years ago."

Sid's expression lost some of its bitter edge as Xavier spoke,
and he began to listen more attentively.

"In fact," Xavier said with a quiet smile, "It was about
twenty-three years ago…give or take…"

Shifting uncomfortably, Sid acknowledged the Professor's meaning.

It was right around the time he and Becca were born.

"What…" Sid began, and then cleared his throat before
continuing, "What did you find her for?"

"Simply to meet her...to learn her story…to let her know she
wasn't alone," Xavier said.

"To let her know there were other mutants out there," Sid
said softly, "That she didn't need to run…"

Xavier regarded him quietly for a moment.  He saw much of Charlene
McGee in the young man's face, the long sad years etched too
early in his eyes.  And now he sat alone, without his sister,
without his mother, flying blindly toward an unknown enemy among
strangers.

The Professor wheeled a little closer to him and spoke confidently.

"And we're not running now," he said and Sid glanced at
him again, "The others with me, we have faced threats to mutant
kind
before.  Since the `attacks' eight months ago, we had been
anticipating some kind of backlash towards mutants.  More than the
Friends of Humanity or some other group partaking in acts of random
violent, but a real threat to the safety of all of our kind.  We
will help you find the one you've lost, and hopefully learn how
to defend others against this strange new danger."

Sid gave a final tired laugh, "Not so strange…"

Xavier regarded him curiously again, until thoughts of vampires and
other Council priorities rang through his mind.  Sid smirked, almost
as if he knew Xavier could sense what he was thinking.

"The cheerleading undead…that's a challenge.  One giant
glass robot, I can handle," Sid said.

"Glass?  Is that why you tried to stop it?" Xavier asked.

Sid nodded again, "That's my thing…glass.  My gift…"

"Indeed," Xavier said, "The others, we also have gifts
which may be useful in the next few hours.  Kurt…whom we call
Nightcrawler…is adept at teleportation.  Logan…also known as
Wolverine…is a military trained fighter with extra defense
mechanisms.  Scott…called Cyclops…can project energy blasts
from his
eyes…"

Sid blinked in surprise and grinned with amusement, "Laser eye
beams?  Thought that was just a myth…"

"Most people think the Watcher's Council, and its interests,
are myths as well," Xavier replied, "I assume you're
aware of
my telepathy…"

Sid nodded, "Oh, yeah.  We got a memo on you, too, Professor."

Xavier smiled, "I think I may have a few things to write back to
the Council after tonight."

"I think so, too," Sid agreed, but the smile had faded from
his face.  Reminiscing about the Council was not what he wanted to
focus on, and Xavier recognized his continuing fears about the fate
of his twin.

"Professor?" Cyclops's voice called from the pilot's
seat.  Xavier gave Sid one more reassuring nod before returning to
the front of the jet.

He returned to his locked position behind the co-pilot's seat and
Cyclops glanced back at him.

"We're approaching Magneto, Professor," he said, "Do
you want me to close in?"

"No," Xavier said, "But maintain a constant distance
behind them…I will try to find out just what he plans to do."

The Professor once again closed his eyes and focused on finding the
minds in the helicopter beyond them.  There were three, aside from
Magneto; Sabertooth, Mystique…and Pyro.  He carefully focused on
their thoughts, one at a time, not interfering and not allowing his
presence to be known.  He listened, and waited for a chance to
speak...

***
Archived at www.fanfiction.net/~leen713

Title: X-Book 3: Within the Storm - Chapter Two: Glimpses

By: Kath713/Leen713

Rating: PG-13 (violence, language)

Genre: Crossover, SPOILERS FOR X2

Summary: see prologue for book 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing in regards to the Marvel characters or
any character from a previously published source portrayed in this
story.

Reviews: Any feedback would be great and is appreciated!

***

Chapter 2:

The stolen helicopter followed along the Sentinel's path, and
Mystique sat angrily in the pilot's t ter followed along seat,
flying the aircraft skillfully towards their target.  It was just in
range of the helicopter's onboard radar and she paced its speed
easily.

Mystique glanced to her right at Magneto and saw him sitting in
focused thought.  His arms were folded across his broad chest and
his brow was creased.  A small smiled played on his face as he
stared intently out the front windows.  It was pleasant, almost
serene, but the hard glint in his eyes betrayed any placidness his
face may have implied.

The look was one she had seen often, one she admired, and her
current ire was not in regards to the man seated next to her, nor
the other two members of the Brotherhood accompanying them on the
craft.  With Toad and the Lady Deathstrike currently
`accompanying' the Sentinel to its destination, Magneto's
present
forces were narrowed in number to herself, Pyro and Sabertooth.

More than enough, she thought confidently, in the same frame of mind
at the Lady.  Their forces were divided, but not weakened.  Some of
the Brotherhood within, the rest of them closing in from the outside
and one simple fact…their enemies were surrounded.

However, Mystique continued to have a lingering feeling of intrusion
after being halted by Xavier on the lawn of the ruined house.  She
did not like being controlled, losing command of her own body.  The
helplessness of those forgotten, frozen moments under Xavier's
power created a fury inside of her that shone out through her bright
yellow eyes.

The radar on the console beneath her right arm chimed as the
Sentinel moved out of range.  Mystique adjusted her course to a
lower altitude and Magneto grinned with approval.

"Excellent," he said to her, "The machine must be
landing.  Maintain this distance and monitor where it finally
settles."

Mystique nodded, but did not reply.  Magneto glanced at her
curiously and noted the second aircraft detected by the radar, one
following them in the same cautious manner which they were following
the Sentinel.  He gave her a long glance, but Mystique either did
not notice or did not care.

Her mind was preoccupied, and her anger at Xavier was not solely the
result of his earlier control over her.  Magneto was the only other
person alive who knew why else the beautiful blue woman was
distracted by the approaching X-Men.

Mothers, Magneto had said to her earlier, Always know what becomes
of their children…they know if their children are among the
enemy…

Mystique tightened her fists around the helicopter's controls and
ground her teeth together audibly.  She fought to concentrate on
their mission, and ignore any other thoughts that may prevent her
from being at her best for Erik.

However, unbeknownst to her, those thoughts were not alone in her
mind.

Xavier carefully glimpsed into Mystique's mind, listening to the
conversation she heard, which was very scarce.  He did not attempt
to dominate her mind yet, biding his time until a chance came to
speak to Erik.

Mystique continued to lower the helicopter after the Sentinel, her
eyes never leaving the dark horizon.  She reached above her head to
make an adjustment to the controls, and her blue skin shone in the
dim light.  She resisted the urge to change it, mold her arm into
something else.  Using her power always grounded her into reality,
even if what she became was an illusion.  It reminded her why she
stayed by Erik's side, reminded her of who she was.  A mutant…
fighting for her people.  But, in the blue pigment, she was reminded
of someone else.

Why not stay disguised all the time? the soft voice echoed, You
know…look like everyone else?

Her gestures as she maneuvered the craft were quick and angry, as
she fought back the memory…and all the other memories that voice
stirred.

Xavier's face creased in a surprised frown as he remained focused
on Mystique's mind.

What was disturbing her?  The anger towards the X-Men was obvious,
but why these other memories when she thought of them.

Xavier listened...

"The Sentinel has stopped," Mystique said, and Magneto nodded.

"Let's do a sweep of the area," he replied, "Find the
best place to land.  No reason to hide though, my dear.  I'm sure
they are expecting us."

He sounded pleased at his last words, and Mystique gave him a small
smile.  She could hear Sabertooth rumbling from the back passenger
seat, preparing for the possibility of conflict.  Pyro snapped his
lighter once, watched the flame for a moment and grinned.

They were ready for whoever should prove to be the creator of the
Sentinel.  And for the enemies behind them…

Mystique once again was shaken by a memory of a soft voice and
fought it away as a vicious grin spread over her face.

             The enemies behind them…

Xavier inhaled sharply as an image passed through Mystique's mind.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

"Why not look like everyone else?"

"Because we shouldn't have to…"

Kurt…why was she thinking of Kurt?

A second voice echoed in her mind, speaking in German.

"Why didn't you tell me?" the voice shouted with angry
hate, and it
was followed by a sob…a female voice…

"Because it shouldn't matter!  He's your son!"

"Not mine!  Not mine!"

The vision of a young woman appeared, a visage of illusion…pink
skin…blonde hair.

In her arms, she held an infant, one blue hand reaching for her long
curls with his three fingers.

"GET OUT!" the voice shouted.

The young woman ran off into the night.  Her body returned to its
true form, her blue skin hiding her easily in the shadows.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

My God, Xavier thought, He is her son…

Somewhere in Mystique's subconscious, she heard Xavier's
voice and her mind began to scream…

Mystique jerked forward violently, gasping for breath as she was
overwhelmed by the invading presence in her mind.  The others of the
Brotherhood looked at her with startled surprise, as the normally
composed woman cried out in distress.

Reaching for the controls, Magneto called to her with true concern.

"Mystique?" he said, firmly but not unkindly, "What's
wrong?"

Her long arms supported her against the control console, her eyes
wide with outrage and fear.  She gnashed her teeth together again,
and turned her head to look at Magneto.

"Xavier…" she said, "In my head…I won't let
him…Tell him to get out…"

Magneto took her face in one hand and looked into her eyes.

"Charles," he said viciously, and Mystique forced her body to
relax as Erik chastised their enemy, "Let her go."

Xavier heard Erik's response and debated how to reply.  He knew
his presence was causing Mystique's fury to grow, but his need to
speak to Magneto was too great.

"Not until you listen to what I have to say," Xavier said
aloud, and his words echoed from Mystique's throat.

She struggled as Xavier's words choked from her.  Her
subconscious screamed again, and she felt the invading psychic wince
slightly.

Magneto tilted his head slightly, and ran his hand through
Mystique's hair.  Her eyes were half lidded from Charles's
influence, but her eyes remained sharp and focused with rage.

"Let her go," Magneto repeated and flexed his free hand
purposefully.

From behind them, the X-Jet shuttered.

"What the hell?" Cyclops said with alarm as the jet was
jerked out of his control.

"What's happening?" Wolverine demanded and then glanced
back at the Professor, who was gripping the arms of his wheel chair
with white knuckles.

"The machine took one of my people also, Erik," Xavier began,
and Mystique's voice spoke again…

"…we need to work together to…" Mystique was involuntarily
saying.

Magneto tightened his fist, "No, Charles, whatever union you
thought we had at Alkalai Lake died beneath those waters and shares
company only with your Jean Grey."

He shook the following jet again and grinned as Xavier's
surprised gasp escaped from Mystique's throat.  Magneto knew his
words would strike deeply into Charles's mind, and he debated
whether or not to simply destroy their jet before the X-Men could
interfere further with his plans for the future.

"We're going to be torn apart if this doesn't stop!"
Cyclops shouted over the loud vibration of the jet's metallic
walls.

Xavier focused his mind again, "Erik!  Stop this now!"

Mystique's eyes grew wide as Xavier's demand rang from her
throat.  Her eyes shot between Magneto's eyes and his clenched
fist
controlling the jet.  He could destroy them, crash the X-Men's
jet and kill their enemies…

"Erik…" she said, grasping at the hand touching her face,
"Don't…"

Magneto scanned her eyes, and recognized the words as her own, and
not those of Charles Xavier.  In his own anger, he had forgotten
Mystique's secret…her child was aboard that jet.

His fist loosened, and he looked at her knowingly.  Fine, in
deference to Mystique, he would not tear apart their ship.  However,
his control over the jet had been a warning…which would only be
given once.

"Charles," he said, looking into Mystique's eyes again,
"I know you can control my Brothers, use their strength to attack
me
from within, but remember what I can do to the ones with you.
Interfere again, and my regard for the woman you now hold with your
mind will not be enough to stop me from ensuring that you follow us
no further."

The jet stopped shuttering and Cyclops sighed with undisguised
relief.  Wolverine was still glaring at the Professor.  Xavier
opened his eyes slowly, and looked at the floor.

"Alright, Erik," he said aloud, "We will accomplish
nothing by killing each other.  But, we will not turn back from the
Sentinel's path.  Not until those lost are found."

Xavier blinked as the connection with Mystique was suddenly cut
off.  He sighed and glanced at Wolverine.

"Magneto?" he asked the Professor, who nodded sadly.

"He will meet this new enemy on his own terms," Xavier said,
and then his eyes became hard and determined, "And we will meet
it
on ours.  Let's focus on finding the three that were taken…and
learning what we can about the people who created that machine."

"What happens if we do get in each other's way?"
Wolverine asked with a cynical grin and Xavier looked grave.

"Let's hope…we have the strength then, to remember why we
are here," he said, "Hopefully, conflict with the Brotherhood
will
not prove necessary…"

I doubt that, Wolverine thought, loudly, and Xavier could not help
but raise a slightly amused eyebrow at the other man's annoyed
sarcasm.

***
Archived at www.fanfiction.net/~leen713

Title: Diary of a Wolverine
Author: Wolf Whitewater
Rating: PG (It's Wolverine, I don't think anything he's involved in is going to
be G!)
Character(s): Logan's Brain
Warnings: None, unless you have issues peeking into other people's heads
Disclaimers: Standard
Feedback: Yes, please! email or post, I don't care
Archive: Ask first

Enjoy!

Whitewater
********************************************************************************\
*******************************

Once, upon a time, I am sure I had a quiet, normal, peaceful life.  I didn't
have people constantly shadowing me with dart guns, bombs, impossibly beautiful
female trap-bait and offers they are sure I can't refuse, trying to get me back
or attempting to lure me in, and I'm pretty sure there was a stage in there
somewhere that didn't involve physical stasis.  Because of my mutation, I don't
think I can ever grow old, but nobody is sure about that. I regenerate, so
nobody knows how old I am, how old I'm likely to get, how many times I've been
hurt, or killed. The only thing anybody knows for sure is that I have been held
here, like a photograph, at the peak of my physical existence.



Sometimes that can get pretty damn lonely. Sure, there are girls here and there,
and I can drink all the booze, eat whatever I want, never have to worry about
death via a heart attack or the other ravages of a body's system deciding it
can't handle life anymore, but all I remember is dodging bullets and swords and
lasers and other weapons of destruction, not always successfully, and always
coming back, even if I have to harrow hell and death first, however briefly.



I am Wolverine, and I always come back. I am the original bad penny, the mold
that was broken. I beg, sometimes, to die of a heart attack. To get old age
dementia and forget what I was like when I was young. Because that would mean
that it was finally over, that I was dying in my bed like you're supposed to.  I
always come back, even when I don't want to.



I have accepted the unique and often irritating facts of my life.  I won't die,
not permanently.  I will outlive any woman I fall in love with, and I will
always be alone. I will watch my friends and lovers take the last long walk and
I will be unable to follow. There is much in my life I've had to shoulder,
burdens too heavy for people who aren't me. But I can't carry that knowledge and
so I am forever alone. I am called a loner, a machine, a weapon, a man unable to
form bonds with others. That is not true.  It is a choice I have had to make,
even as I had to choose to live.  I could not kill myself, no matter how hard I
tried, and so the alternative - the only one-- was to live.  I am not strong
enough to watch my true love grow old and die, and I am not strong enough to
watch my friends watch me forever held back from death, and so I make the
choice.  It is the hardest thing I have had to do.



And so, they call me a wolf without a pack, a wild man, crazy, whose only
emotion is rage.  I figure I have a right to be angry. I didn't sign up for this
life-I was drafted into it against my will.  From the first I have had the
ability to chose taken away from me. My life is defined by six spikes of metal
that come out of my hands, and a regeneration mutant power I have no control
over. I was exiled from the human race before I had a chance to truly enter it.
I die daily, on the inside, watching humanity from my mutant box.  Is it any
wonder I snap sometimes, and go off to be alone, where I can pretend I really am
alone? Where I do not have to constantly be reminded of what I can never have?
Wouldn't you get pretty messed up in the head if you had to live as I?



I am Wolverine, and that means me.



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

Title: X-Book 3: Within the Storm - Chapter Three: Waking in the Dark

By: Kath713/Leen713

Rating: PG-13 (violence, language)

Genre: Crossover, SPOILERS FOR X2

Summary: see prologue for book 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing in regards to the Marvel characters or
any character from a previously published source portrayed in this
story.

Reviews: Any feedback would be great and is appreciated!

***

Chapter 3:

In a cold cell deep within Stryker's compound, Rebecca Malloy
struggled awake from a drug-induced sleep.  She was lying on her
stomach on a simple flat cot, her face touching the rough blanket
covering it.  Her head was aching as she tried to move and she
opened her eyes slowly.

The room was dark, illuminated only by three small, circular lights
shining down from the ceiling.  In one corner, she could see the
blinking red light of a security camera embedded in the wall.  She
drug the last few memories of consciousness from her aching mind and
remembered the final attack on her home.

Well, here we go again, a voice in her mind spoke, sounding oddly
amused, I wonder where the hell I am now...

Rebecca rolled onto her back and pushed herself up with care.  She
blinked in the dim light and examined the rest of the cell quickly.
The room was fairly narrow, no more than ten feet across but ran
about three times that distance in length.  All surfaces seemed to
be made of the same dark metal her `bed' was made from, and
in the low light, the ends and corners of the room were hidden by
shadows.  Similar metal cots ran down both long walls, and were all
unoccupied except one.

She squinted to see who was lying there, but whoever it was, he was
lying away from her, facing the wall, and she could not see his
face.  He had dark hair and his long jacket identified him as the
Cajun man from the earlier attack.  His arm hung off the cot limply
and she noticed curiously there were several playing cards on the
floor near his dangling hand.

Those will be useful later if we get bored, she thought with an
inner laugh, But...something tells me we won't be getting bored...

Standing slowly, she stretched her back and sighed audibly.  She was
not entirely surprised at the situation she found herself in, as
strange as it was and considering she was still wearing her pajamas.

The abduction had been extremely violent, but now Rebecca actually
felt very calm, and very annoyed.  She was fairly used to sudden,
bizarre occurrences, though being attacked by a giant robot was
definitely a new one on the list.

She walked then, with bare feet, down to the back of the cell and
inspected the wall.  It was solid, lined near the floor by micro-
vents circulating air through the room.  She touched the wall
briefly, and realized it did not feel like metal, more like a very
hard plastic.  She frowned curiously, and turned to walk down to the
other end of the cell.

Passing by the four pairs of cots, she heard the unconscious man
snoring softly and she chuckled to herself.

Maybe he's been through this kind of thing before, too, she
thought with a grin in the dark.

At the front wall of the cell, Rebecca inspected the solid frame of
a door.  It had no edges, no windows or slots for passing food trays
and no distinguishable way to open it.  To the right of the door,
she noticed a dark square that was made of a different substance
than the wall.  She ran her fingers over it and figured it was a
control panel of sorts, but she doubted it would help her get out.

All the surfaces were smooth and there was nothing but the bare
essentials furnishing it.  Whoever was keeping her (and her snoring
friend) had gone through great care to ensure they did not escape.

Rebecca sighed with frustration, and leaned against the wall with
her arms folded.  She wondered then what had happened to Erik
Lensherr and his Brotherhood.  She had not seen them after the
Sentinel began to attack, and only the man with the red eyes and the
green mutant were with her when she was knocked out.

Glancing over at the sleeping man, she wondered where the other man
had been taken.  She turned her head and noticed one other cot
besides her own looked disheveled, as if someone had been sleeping
there previously.  She looked around the dark room again, searching
for sign of the green mutant.

They might have him somewhere else, she thought, And they may have
other mutants here too.  So the question is...how do we get out?

Rebecca turned to face the door again and inspected the dark control
panel closely.  She remembered her trick with the light in the
hallway earlier, and wondered if a quick jolt of energy might
activate it...or at least trigger a fire alarm.

She stepped back, covered the panel with her hand.  Before she could
focus her mind enough to draw out her power, a voice called to her
from the back of the cell.

------------------------------------------------------------

Toad had awoken nearly an hour earlier and had been crouching next
to his cot trying to decide what to do next.  He had studied the
blue prints of numerous military bases, with the information
Mystique had first gathered from Stryker's base at Alkalai Lake,
and later from what the Lady Deathstrike had been able to steal for
the Brotherhood from other government facilities.  Now, he was
trying to work out an effective escape plan for himself...and the
young woman asleep in the next cot down.

Out of all the locations within Stryker's old bases, he knew the
mutant cells were the most difficult to escape from, if it was
possible at all.  The walls were fire-proof, did not hold moisture,
and were not made from any kind of metal.  The best plan he could
think of was waiting for a guard to check up on them and then
fighting his way out.  That may have been plausible if he were
alone, but he would not risk the life of Erik's prize.

Toad watched her intently as she slept, the rise and fall of her
body breathing confirming that she still lived.  The braid in her
hair fell across her face, and her eyes moved in dreaming patterns
underneath the lids.  In his mind, Toad compared her to her younger
presence in the old video Deathstrike had recovered.

A strange frown fell over his face.  She looked peaceful, even in
the midst of danger, and another twinge of disappointment hit him.
For months, he had watched her over and over again, burning in that
moment of pure rage, apparently destroying her enemies (who were
also his enemies) in a wave of pure fury and power.  However, none
of that anger seemed present in the young woman before him, and he
had not known how to react to her sarcastic, confident banter as
they had run from the Sentinel.

Toad tried to push his dissatisfied curiosity from his mind and
focus on planning their escape, but his thoughts of fire lingered.
The low light falling upon her red hair reminded him of burning
embers, fading in the cold, still hot enough to re-ignite the flames.

What are you doing, you freak!? A cruel voice from his memories
suddenly screamed in his mind.  Toad winced slightly and closed his
eyes.

What the hell do you think you're doing?! The voice continued to
scream, Don't you look at her!  Do you think she wants your ugly
mutant face staring at her!  Go back where you belong!  Go now!  The
other children…the NORMAL children…don't need a stupid
mutant around ruining their playtime!  Go back where you belong!

Shut up! Toad thought, grinding his small teeth together painfully.
He knew the voice, one of many wicked voices but the earliest in his
memory.  It had been from the orphanage, the voice of someone long
dead.  And he knew she was dead, because he had…

"Shut up," he said aloud, but quietly.  Toad opened his eyes
again, and glared at the young woman's sleeping form.

Her plain face, normal, unspectacular.  He was sure she had no
problems walking down the street without being yelled at or spit
on.  Her simple but expensive looking house; she has probably never
had a care in her life, never searching for food or fighting for a
place to sleep.  Her red hair, gleaming in the light like the hidden
fire within, was still beautiful even in the dark…

STOP LOOKING AT HER, YOU FREAK! the voice screamed again, You have
no right!  Now get back in the room!  I'm going to lock you in
this time so you won't bother these decent normal children again!

Toad closed his eyes again and a vicious hate filled his mind again,
overpowering the malicious voices…killing them…

Toad crouched silently and clenched his fists.  He opened his eyes
again, and leveled them instead on the red-eyed member of the X-Men
lying unconscious in another cot.  It would be so easy, killing the
Cajun man before he awoke (one less X-Man would be a happy thing),
focusing his hate where it belonged instead of on the girl, who
Magneto wanted alive.

But, Toad paused.  The thought of the young woman waking up as he
worked disturbed him greatly.  He was still had a mission to finish,
and he doubted she would want to help him escape if she saw him kill
their other `bunkmate.'  He needed to keep her with him until
they found Magneto, and Toad would be able to deliver the young
woman to his leader.

Toad sighed with frustration and was deciding what steps to take
next to get out of the cell, when he heard the young woman stir.
Instinctively, he scaled the back cell wall and clung to the dark
corner of the ceiling to watch her.  She sat up slowly and looked
around before standing and walking around the room.

When she came toward the back wall, he was sure she would spot him
and held his breath.  As she turned and moved away from him, he
exhaled slowly.  He decided she must not have advanced senses or she
would have noticed him when they were so close.  He continued to
watch her silently until he saw her reach for the door's dark
panel.  In an instant, he knew what trick she was going to try (just
like the lamp in her hallway) and he called out.

--------------------------------------------------------------

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Toad said with his
thick English accent.  Rebecca turned and blinked with surprise as
he jumped down from the shadows.  She looked pleased to see him,
knowing she would need all the help she could find to escape from
this place, and to see that he was still alive.

"Hi," she said, using the same tone she had when she first
greeted him at her home.

Toad walked toward her slowly, hesitant to enter the light.  The
rooms of her house had been dark when they met before and he did not
know what her reaction would be when she finally saw him.

"I wouldn't try that trick you did earlier," he
continued, watching her cautiously, "You'll only fry out
something
useful if you do that."

Rebecca sighed and glanced back at the door.

"I thought I might activate a fire safety release," she
replied, "I've tried it before and it worked…"

Toad shook his head, "Not here it wouldn't.  These cells are
made for mutants, pyretics included.  There aren't any fire
alarms."

"Oh," she replied, "Shit."

"Right," he answered back, sounding as frustrated as she did.
  She heard him jump onto the farthest cot and crouch there, staring
thoughtfully at the other wall.

Rebecca regarded him curiously, or as much as she could through the
shadows.  His eyes shone an amber color from the overhead lights,
but she could not see his other features clearly.

After a few moments passed, Rebecca walked over and sat down on the
cot across from him.  Toad blinked in surprise as she looked at
him.  They were both in the dark now, each wondering about the other.

"What's your name?" Rebecca asked after a minute.

"Toad," he said simply, glaring at her.  He waited for a
frown, a look of distaste but she just grinned.

"Hi, Toad," she replied, "I'm Becca.  So, how are we
going to get out of here?"

She presented the question in a concrete, matter-of-fact tone that
did not hold any doubts that they would escape.  The weight of her
words surprised him again, a force that did not allow for any other
options, and something just a little bit smug that he liked.

"There aren't many ways," he began, absently scratching
the scar on his jaw, "These cells don't have many weaknesses.
  The
fire safety shit, proper ventilation, even the basic of decent needs
aren't here, just in case a mutant could escape through the pipes
or
use water."

Rebecca nodded, "What about security?  Somebody has to check up
on us.  Or else the lack of `basic decent needs' might leave
them with some big messes."

Toad looked at her cynically and sneered.

"I don't think that's there biggest priority," he
said with undisguised vehemence, "What do they care if mutants
are
walking around in their own shit."

Rebecca stared at him, and the anger on his face made him look
vicious.  She could feel the hate in his voice, and she wondered
vaguely if he was as dangerous as he seemed.  She knew dangerous
people, and knew what hate drove people to do.

She glanced over at the other unconscious man nervously, knowing for
some reason he and Toad were enemies, but saw that he was breathing.

Toad noticed her concern and his vicious glare never left her face.

"He'll be wakin' up soon," he said and Rebecca looked
at him again, "He probably has the fucking X-Men lookin' for
him
anyway…"

"What's an X-Men?" she asked, and Toad laughed bitterly.

"Not the Brotherhood," was all he replied, and then they both
fell silent.

After a few more minutes, the tension in the cell was broken when
the Cajun mutant stirred with a groan.

"Merde," he said, pushing himself up slowly, "What the
hell happened?"

He slowly sat up and rubbed his head in his hands.  He noticed the
fallen playing cards and gathered them slowly.

"You're more than a few cards short of a full deck,
LeBeau," he mumbled to himself, "This now officially proves
it.
Join the fucking team.  Mon dieu, I am a genius.  I could have been
protecting the women but no…"

Gambit suddenly noticed the other two watching him dumbly, and a
friendly grin appeared on his face.

"Oh, good," he said with sarcasm, "We're all here.
Did we live…or is this hell?"

***
Archived at www.fanfiction.net/~leen713

Title: X-Book 3: Within the Storm - Chapter Four: Preparing to Meet
the Enemy

By: Kath713/Leen713

Rating: PG-13 (violence, language)

Genre: Crossover, SPOILERS FOR X2

Summary: see prologue for book 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing in regards to the Marvel characters or
any character from a previously published source portrayed in this
story.

Reviews: Any feedback would be great and is appreciated!

***

Chapter 4:

Stryker stood in the central operations room of the base, leaning
forward slightly with his hands on the ledge of a large, blinking
control station.  There was a smug half-smile on his face, and the
soldiers around him were busily preparing for the approaching mutant
threat.

"Is everyone in position?" he asked the commander to his
right, who nodded.

"Yes, sir," he replied, "And the squadrons approaching
from Chicago have also called in to let us know they will be within
a mile of the compound in one hour."

"Good," Stryker said, "Have our guests arrived yet?"

"Recon reports the first helicopter has landed in close proximity
to the base," the soldier said, "It did not make any attempt
to
stay below our radars.  The second craft has been more difficult to
track but had been maintaining a steady path behind the helicopter
before it descended."

"Has everyone been equipped with a neural inhibitor?" Stryker
asked, and was again met with an affirmative from the commander at
his side.

In the months since Alkalai Lake, Stryker had been preparing for
another encounter with Erik Lensherr...but also with Charles
Xavier.  His base was secure against Magneto's power, and now his
soldiers were equipped against Xavier's as well.

His scientists had studied the information gathered from the now
defunct company of Systems Operations, and had used their
information on mental domination in mutants to develop a defense
against it.  Each of the soldiers now wore a neural inhibitor
crowning their heads.

The inhibitors resembled thin wire spectacles attached to strange
silver cap; two clear lenses covered their eyes and a series of thin
metal cords covered their heads.  The electro-magnetic interference
caused when it was activated made the wearer immune to outside
psychic influence...at least, all their tests had proven as much.

Stryker had once used such a device to keep Xavier trapped inside
his own mind.  Now, he used them to keep the Professor out of the
minds of his soldiers.

"Tell them to wait..." Stryker mused, "About five
minutes...and then activate their inhibitors.  Let's give the all-
seeing Professor a little peek before we blind him."

--------------------------------------------------------------

With a loud protesting shriek from the hinges, Sabertooth forced
open the doorway with mild effort.  Magneto waited behind him, along
with Pyro and Mystique.  They stood at the end of a short tunnel on
the side of the mountain, and had so far met no resistance in
approaching the base.

Magneto regarded the crumbling door with disguised concern.  Like
the Sentinel, the substance it was made from was not metal of any
kind, yet seemed to possess the same strength in structure.  So,
whoever created this compound knew enough not to make it of metal.
But Magneto knew, just as with the hapless guards of his old plastic
prison, people never knew how easily the tiniest amount of metal
around them could become deadly.

The four members of the Brotherhood entered the compound with
discretion, ready to face down any guards they may meet.  They
walked for several minutes before their path lead them to the large
empty hanger where the Sentinel stood dormant.

Magneto walked toward the device and ran one gloved hand along its
belly.  It had obviously been attacked, by multiple means, but
seemed quite intact.  His hands found five claw marks and he
wondered what had become of the Lady Deathstrike.

"Magneto," Sabertooth called then, making no effort to lower
his booming voice, "Over here..."

The large mutant stood by the open hanger door and pointed out
another set of claw marks, deeply set in one controlled swipe.
Magneto smiled broadly.

"The Lady is inside," he said and turned to Sabertooth,
"Take Pyro and head inward.  Kill all those you find, save any
mutants taken by the Sentinel.  Bring them back to me alive.
Mystique and I will head up to the second level and rendezvous back
here in one hour, unless I specify otherwise."

"What about the X-Men?" Sabertooth growled but grinned as if
he already knew the answer.  Mystique's eyes grew wide, but gave
no
other indication of concern at the large mutant's words.  Magneto
glanced at her briefly, smiling confidently, and then looked back at
Sabertooth.

"Avoid them if you can," he said, "They are more a
nuisance to us than a threat.  However...if you should come upon the
Wolverine...well, I'm sure you would like to have a few words
with him..."

Mystique's tense muscles relaxed slightly at Magneto's order.

Sabertooth nodded and smirked over his large teeth.

"A few words..." he growled, "Maybe less..."

He began to storm across the hanger, and Pyro hesitated a moment
before following, deciding he would rather deal with Sabertooth than
Magneto's fury.  Pyro took out his lighter and held it firmly in
his palm, new anticipation to use his fire also motivating him to
follow the large mutant.

"Burn me..." Sabertooth rumbled to him, "And you're
dead."

Pyro did not pause, but glanced at the charred part of
Sabertooth's arm with bitter amusement.  That firestarting chick
might have just done him a favor, giving Sabertooth a little taste
of the flame.  It might make the large mutant rethink shoving Pyro
around again.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Wolverine flexed one fist experimentally, but did not unsheathe his
claws.  He was looking straight ahead, frowning in thought as they
followed Magneto and his Brotherhood.  Mostly, however, he was
thinking about the Lady Deathstrike, and her last words to him on
the ground.

Think of me...think of me as you die...Brother, her voice rang in
fury through Wolverine's mind, and as he flexed his hand, he could
feel the unnatural blades grinding against his bones.  It was
painful, but only for a moment.  The memories of past hate, and what
it had driven him to, was worse.

Two years ago, it would not have mattered.  Two years ago, he was
alone, he did not have anyone to look after, anyone looking up to
him, anyone who cared whether he lived or died.  Now, he had felt
responsibility, he had felt friendship, he had felt love, and he had
felt loss.  Yet, out of all of those emotions, he was discovering
that guilt was the most difficult to face.

"Magneto has landed, Professor," Cyclops said from the
pilot's seat and Wolverine drew himself back into reality.

"Circle once, Scott," Xavier said, "I'll try to reach
a mind within the base that may know the best place to land..."

The Professor closed his eyes and focused on the lives in the
compound below.  He felt the minds of dozens, not quiet one hundred
men and women with their thoughts busily filled with their
respective duties.  He did not sense the prisoners within, but found
himself drawn to a familiar mind.  Xavier frowned, this mind was one
he recognized, but from where...he concentrated, and almost had a
name...

Suddenly, Xavier inhaled with surprise and opened his eyes.  The
minds of those in the compound below were cut off, disappeared.  He
focused again, but could sense nothing.  He rubbed one temple with
his fingertips and frowned.

"Professor?" Wolverine asked, and Xavier met his face gravely.

"There are many within, but...I could not get an accurate
count," the Professor admitted, "Bring the jet around to the
front
hanger, where the Sentinel touched down."

Wolverine smirked, "Right through the front door, huh?  Isn't
that a little rude?"

Xavier sighed but spoke cynically, "If those within were
concerned with manners, they would have apologized after destroying
the Malloy residence.  Besides, they know we're here.  I've
lost all
sense of their minds, and unless they have all suddenly died, they
have a way to block my power."

Xavier did not add about the familiar mind he sensed.  The hate he
felt there had been all too recognizable, though impossible that it
was the same person.  Stryker was dead, but he was not the only man
of power in the world who hated mutants.  Who was continuing his
work?

Cyclops landed the jet conspicuously in front of the open hanger
door, and then stood and walked to the back.  Wolverine moved next,
followed by Nightcrawler.

"Keep radio contact," the Professor said, as he directed his
chair after the three X-Men, "I will continue to scan the area
from
here and keep you notified of any changes I am aware of."

Sid stood from the passenger seat and began to exit the jet as
well.  Xavier held up a halting hand and met the young man's
angry gaze.

"I'm going with them," Sid said and Xavier shook his head.

"I don't think that would be wise, Mr. Malloy," he said
firmly, "Scott, Logan and Kurt have been trained for this.  They
will recover your sister and..."

"What makes you think my sister needs rescued?" Sid asked
angrily, and then took a few more steps forward, "We have more
experience with this type of thing than you know..."

"I understand," Xavier said, "But for now, I must insist
you remain here.  You can sense her mind, yes?  Use that to let us
know where they are, and maybe she will use that to find the way
out."

Sid continued to glare angrily but did not attempt to follow the X-
Men again.

"This entire place is made of glass and stone!" he exploded
suddenly, "Can't anybody else feel that?  I would be more
help inside than out here!"

Xavier remained completely calm, his gaze unwavering.

"And if the hanger doors close..." the Professor explained,
"Or if that Sentinel is reactivated, wouldn't it be better if
you
were here to help those inside get out?"

Sid stood in anger for another moment and glanced between the X-Men
and their leader.

He finally sighed resigningly, "Fine.  If that's what you
think is best...fine.  But...if I feel, at any time, that I'm
needed
within, I'll be gone before you can stop me..."

From the bottom of the jet's ramp, Sid heard Wolverine chuckle
with amusement.

"I...wouldn't try that, bub," he said, "Charles can
come up with some pretty convincing ways to stop you.  What do you
think, Professor?  Six year old girl...he's got a sister...she
could
braid his hair..."

Sid turned and looked at Logan with angry confusion that quickly
faded into a strange amusement.  Wolverine smirked and walked off
toward the open hanger door with Cyclops and Nightcrawler.  Sid
turned and looked at the Professor warily, but with a grin.

"You can do that?" he asked, and Xavier shrugged
noncommittally.

"It was part of Logan's `quit smoking' program,"
the Professor replied.

Sid nodded, but his smile faded, "I meant it, though.  I will
leave if I'm called."

Xavier nodded, "I don't think my influence could stop you.
However, if we..."

The Professor then frowned and tilted his head.  He may not be able
to sense the minds inside the compound, but he most certainly could
sense the two other minds quickly approaching.

"We're going to have company soon," Xavier said, looking
pleased and annoyed at the same time, as the small jet carrying
Rogue and Mary drew closer to the compound.

***
Archived at www.fanfiction.net/~leen713

I hope you don't mind me posting this here but that you enjoy it

http://www.livejournal.com/community/wolviesgirls/33816.html#cutid1


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

Last week, several members of this list, including myself, received an
email from a "Debra" at 20th Century Fox. A total of ten people
received the same email I did, not including Gina DeMarco (
http://www.loganandmarie.com ), Karen (
http://www.postcardsfromtheedge.org ), and Autumn (
http://www.autumnpenguins.com ), who were also copied in on the
message.

The email reads as follows:

All,

There have been many slanderous remarks made about our employee Gina
DeMarco authored by yourselves.  We would appreciate in the future that
you refrain from posting or making any reference to her in a public
manner.  She is an employee of 20th Century Fox Studios and we take
these slanderous remarks seriously.

Also refrain from making any derogatory comments about Karen [last name
removed to protect privacy. This is a reference to the same Karen who
received a copy of the email] as she is an affiliate of Bad Hat Harry
Productions, which is a part of 20th Century Fox.

Let it be known that refusal to comply with our request will not only
result in closure of your websites but also a lawsuit against you for
trademark infringement and slander.  Fox traditionally appreciates its
fans but will protect our employees from them as well.

I hope I have made myself clear.

Sincerely,
Debra [last name removed]
Sr. Counsel
20th Century Fox Studios

~*~

On February 17th, I spoke with the Executive Director of Human
Resources at 20th Century Fox regarding this and similar threats made
against fans by and for Gina and Karen.

I was told the above email is completely fraudulent and in no way
authorized by anyone at Fox with the power to make such statements.  In
addition, I was told that Gina and Karen have absolutely no connection
at all to 20th Century Fox, and any claims to the contrary, or claims
of enjoying Fox's legal protection, are fraudulent.

If you have received any emails from Debra, Gina, or Karen claiming
that you could be subject to legal action by 20th Century Fox, you can
ignore any such statements.  They are a misrepresentation of Fox, and
are not to be taken seriously.

Fox is investigating this situation and is collecting information
regarding these claims.  If you have received any emails from Debra,
Gina, or Karen implying that Gina and/or Karen are affiliated with or
protected by 20th Century Fox in any way, please contact me and I will
tell you who to contact at Fox. Fox asks that you not reply to the
"Debra" email address.

This is obviously a very serious situation, and one that Fox is not
taking lightly.  Several members of the Super Hero Hype message boards
received similar emails, and the owner of SHH is also cooperating fully
with Fox.  You can read his statement on the matter here:

http://www.superherohype.com/forums/announcement.php?s=&forumid=198

Please feel free to contact me offlist if you have any questions about
this situation.

Devil Doll


=====
Devil Doll

www.danger-room.net
www.wolverineandrogue.com
www.xmmff.com

Find them here!

April Showers and May Flowers
http://home.comcast.net/~wolverine_panther/AprilShowers.html


The Birth of Jean Marie (a collaboration with Amy D.)
http://home.comcast.net/~wolverine_panther/AprilShowers.html

...And Baby Makes Three
http://home.comcast.net/~wolverine_panther/AndBaby.html

Christmas At Xavier's School
http://home.comcast.net/~wolverine_panther/ChristmasAtXaviers.html

A Wolverine, A Baby, and a Bottle of Beer
Author's note - I don't in any way condone the use of beer as depicted
here
http://home.comcast.net/~wolverine_panther/WolverineBabyandBeer.html

Daddy's Little Girl
http://home.comcast.net/~wolverine_panther/DaddysLittleGirl.html


For previous installments, go here:

http://home.comcast.net/~wolverine_panther/Wolvie_PantherTitlePage.html


Enjoy!  Feedback greatly appreciated.
"Sunshine"

HOW THE LEOPARD CHANGED HER SPOTS
Minisinoo

Summary: A different Scott, a different Jean.  Montague and Capulet.
Are they still who they are, if they aren't who we recognize?  An AU
(alternate universe) retelling of X1. c. 27,000

Series:  This is the third story in a series, following "Till We Have
Faces" and "He Who Has Ears to Hear" (links available on main page,
link below).  All these stories belong to the PowerSwap Challenges:
http://www.themedicinewheel.net/shorts/powerswap_challenge.html

Warnings:  A couple allusive sexual references; otherwise perfectly
safe.

URL:  http://www.themedicinewheel.net/series/leopard.html

Feedback is, of course, more than welcome.

=====
--Min
The Medicine Wheel: X-Men Fanfic
http://www.themedicinewheel.net/

__________________________________
Do you Yahoo!?
Yahoo! Mail SpamGuard - Read only the mail you want.
http://antispam.yahoo.com/tools

Title: X-Book 3: Within the Storm - Chapter Five: The Mutants of
Systems Operations

By: Kath713/Leen713

Rating: PG-13 (violence, language)

Genre: Crossover, SPOILERS FOR X2

Summary: see prologue for book 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing in regards to the Marvel characters or
any character from a previously published source portrayed in this
story.

Reviews: Any feedback would be great and is appreciated!

***

Chapter Five:

A soldier stood on a grated platform overlooking a large room, as
five mutants walked in quick order across the floor.  Each was a
male, about thirty years in age, but their eyes looked much older.
They marched with practiced steps, following the orders directed at
them without question.

However, the doomed soldier would never be the one giving those
mutants orders again.  He was trying to cry out to the scattered
others of his team but a strong hand covered his mouth, as he was
drug into the shadows.  When the muffling hand moved, long claws
slashed his throat and he could only choke quietly on his own blood
as he died.

Lady Deathstrike lowered her victim to the ground slowly, and did
not look at him as she withdrew her claws from his back.  Her eyes
stared forward, unblinking as she searched for her main target.
However, she had not seen Stryker again since entering the
compound.  She took a moment to stare down at the line of young men
curiously.

The guards kept their guns leveled at the five, but Deathstrike did
not think they looked capable of a fight.  Their scents were full of
emotion, an odorous mixture of fear and anticipation.  They were all
pale, as if they had not been in the sun for many years, and by the
way the soldiers were treating them, she guessed that they were
mutants.

One of them wore dark glasses and used a simple cane to feel his way
along the floor.  Two stood side-by-side, glaring with vicious glee
and laughing as they spoke in low voices.  The shortest one walked
along cooperatively, but had a sort of muzzle over his face to
prevent him from opening his mouth.  The last was the tallest and
oldest by far, standing in somber silence in the front of the line,
not looking into the eyes of the humans around him.

Deathstrike frowned and listened to the commander as he spoke to
them.

"Two groups of mutants have entered the compound," the
soldier spoke loudly, "Your mission is to stop them from reaching
the captured targets within the cell block.  Lethal force has been
authorized by General Stryker..."

The two mutants standing next to each other exchanged wide grins and
then returned their eyes to the commander.  The mutant with the dark
glasses shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot and gripped his cane
tightly in front of him with both hands.

"However," the commander continued, "The mutant known as
Magneto is to be taken alive.  When he has been incapacitated, bring
him directly to the General.  Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," four of them said in unison, and the one who was
muzzled nodded to indicate his affirmative.

"All right..." the commander said, and then raise his eyes to
the other soldiers, "Let's move out!"

Deathstrike stepped backward into the dark again as the troops began
to empty from the room, leaving the five mutants unattended.  She
noticed then each soldier wore strange devices over their heads
instead of helmets.  The clear lenses over their eyes reflected the
dimming overhead lights.

Before the commander left, the tallest of the mutants stepped
forward and spoke.  Deathstrike heard the fear in his voice.

"Sir?" he asked, and the commander spun towards him angrily,
"What about Cody...I mean, what about Weinberg, sir?"

The commander's stern gaze faltered for a moment, "Weinberg
will be dispatched by the General's orders only...when Magneto is
in
place..."

The tallest mutant nodded again, and took a step back to fall into
line.  Deathstrike narrowed her eyes on him and wondered why
this `Weinberg' caused him and the commander such alarm.

Through the grated floor beneath her feet, she could see soldiers
moving out of the central door.  The commander was last, speaking to
another soldier about returning to the main control room.
Deathstrike grinned softly, and decided to follow the troops to the
compound's central operations.

However, she paused again to glance at the five mutants and frowned.

The smallest was pulling at the muzzle around his face, until one of
the two gleeful mutants held out one hand, and the locks popped.
The other chuckled in delight and cracked his knuckles audibly.

"Thanks," the small mutant said aloud and a small vibration
ran along the room's walls.

Telekinetic, Deathstrike noted to herself as she glanced at the
smiling pair, and then looked at the small mutant again, Sonic vocal
force...I remember something about them from before with Stryker...

The name caused painful memories to surface, and she gritted her
teeth painfully.  They were more of Stryker's mutant prisoners,
though they were not under the same influence that had once kept
Deathstrike under Stryker's power.  These mutants had been bred,
artificially created by the same experiments that had created
Charlene McGee, the firestarter.

And, now, Stryker planned to use them to recapture Magneto.

Deathstrike flexed her hands with an audible cracking, which echoed
through the room.  The five mutants glanced around curiously at the
noise, but did not noticed the Lady, even as she swung down from the
grated platform and followed the retreating soldiers toward the
control room.

***
Archived at www.fanfiction.net/~leen713

Title: X-Book 3: Within the Storm - Chapter Six: Powerless

By: Kath713/Leen713

Rating: PG-13 (violence, language)

Genre: Crossover, SPOILERS FOR X2

Summary: see prologue for book 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing in regards to the Marvel characters or
any character from a previously published source portrayed in this
story.

Reviews: Any feedback would be great and is appreciated!

***

Chapter Six:

"Twenty-five...twenty-six...twenty-seven..." Gambit counted
aloud as he thumbed slowly through his thinning deck of cards.  He
looked sadly at the incomplete suits, passing through his fingers
like four small armies who have had casualties among their ranks.

For the first time since leaving New Orleans, Gambit felt genuinely
homesick.  Not for just the city in particular, with its endless
days and bright shining nights, but for the entire life he had
before his mutation appeared.  He may not have always played with a
full deck, but at least all the cards were always accounted for.

His wild nights may have had their hazardous, but at least there was
the soft, blurring effects of alcohol to make the passing time
enjoyable.  Now, he sat in a dark cell, stone sober, wondering why
son dieuhad cursed him to this end.

Oh, oui, he thought sarcastically, Punishment for all the booze and
women…

Gambit glanced around the narrow room at his fellow prisoners and
sighed unhappily.  The green mutant from the Brotherhood, who had
grudgingly introduced himself as Toad, was stalking around the room
and searching for a way to escape.  Gambit had been quietly amused
when Toad had begun scaling the walls and ceiling to examine every
corner of the cell, and the English mutant cursed loudly in
frustration.

Rebecca, on the other hand, was sitting with her knees to her chest
against one wall, pressing her fingers experimentally against the
surface.  When Gambit asked her what she was doing, Rebecca had
grinned and created a small flame in her palm.  The light of the
small fire made Gambit crave a cigarette, only adding to his
discomfort and depression at his present situation.

"One...two...three..." he began again until Toad shouted from
near the front door.

"Will you shut the hell up?" he yelled to Gambit who grinned
and held one card up into the air.

"And now..." the Cajun announced dramatically, "En
francais!  Un...deux...trois...quatre..."

"Oh, Christ, I should've fucking killed him..." Toad
mumbled and Rebecca chuckled.

She placed her palm against the cold surface of the wall again, and
focused her power through her hand.  The wall grew warm, actually
began to glow slightly as the energy flowed out of her, but no
matter how hot she made it, the substance would not burn...it did
not even show signs of melting.  When she concentrated, she had been
able to melt plastics and metals, but the strange walls were
unyielding to heat.

Rebecca stood and stretched her arms over her head.  It had been
hours, and they had not had heard so much as a footstep from the
hall outside.  At least, she assumed there was a hall.  They could
very well be in a box in the middle of the wilderness for all she
knew.  But, she doubted someone would go through all the trouble of
building a giant robot to capture them without leaving someone to
make sure they did not escape.

Toad was crouching next to the dark control panel and she wandered
over towards him.  She folded her arms, watching him curiously for a
moment before speaking.

"Any luck?" she asked, and he looked up at her quickly with
surprise.  His eyes were wide for a moment before he frowned turned
glaringly back to his work.

"No," he said simply, and ran his fingers along the edges of
the doorframe.  Rebecca knelt down next to him to watch what he was
doing, and Toad frowned with annoyance and shifted a step away from
her.  Between Miss Curiosity and the Singing Cajun, he struggled to
focus on what he was doing.

"No other ways out?" Rebecca asked and Toad sighed angrily.

"No," he replied again, and she nodded.

"What kind of weaknesses does this door have?" She asked and
he turned his head to glare at her.

"I don't know.  I didn't build the fucking thing," he
said harshly, and took a breath before continuing in a more
controlled voice, "That's what I'm tryin' to find
out..."

Rebecca had not flinched as he shouted at her but inwardly was
shaken by his sudden ferocity.

Toad glanced at her quickly once more, his action seemed almost
nervous, and he shifted away from her again.  Rebecca was used to
that reaction, after people had seen what she could do.  She stood
and headed back to her cot.  Toad paused as she walked away but did
not move from where he crouched.

Gambit looked over at Rebecca with tired amusement as she sat down
heavily.  He glanced over at Toad, before shuffling the remainders
of his deck loudly.

"Too bad we don't have a credit card..." he said
thoughtfully, and Rebecca looked at him with a frown, as he
continued, "No, I'm serious.  This one time, back home in New
Orleans, I met this beautiful woman one night, who naturally invited
me back to her hotel room, maisneglected to tell me about her
jealous husband driving in from Baton Rouge.  Luckily, when the
bastard suddenly appeared outside her room, I was able to escape
through one of those doors that join two rooms together, you know?
All I had with me was a pair of socks and my credit card, with which
I escaped certain death by opening the lock on the shared door.  The
people in the next room were very understanding..."

Rebecca tilted her head, and noticed Gambit shuffling his cards.

He sighed nostalgically, "That was a good night..."

Toad rolled his eyes, wondering how difficult it was to rip
someone's voice box out.  Rebecca frowned thoughtfully and then
grinned before reaching over and plucking the seven of diamonds from
Gambit's grasp.

She examined the card curiously and walked quickly over to the
door.  Gambit jumped off his own cot and followed her.  Toad turned
his head to the left and right as they settled on each side of him
and he growled viciously.

"What are you doing?" he asked and Rebecca held the card
toward the nearly invisible crack between the door and the wall.

"I'm wondering if Remy just had a good idea..." she
replied.  Toad scoffed loudly but decided to listen to Rebecca's
suggestion anyway.  He needed a good laugh.

Rebecca carefully forced the thin card into the tiny gap.  It stuck
about three-quarters of the way out of the wall.  Both men were
frowning and Rebecca grinned.

"If Remy can charge this card...like he did before..."
Rebecca explained with growing enthusiasm.

Gambit nodded, "I guess I could do that..."

"Then it might disrupt the door enough to let us open it..."
she finished, and the Cajun nodded again.

"I could get a lot of energy in just this one..." he agreed.

Toad shifted a step back and glared at both of them, "No fucking
way."

"Oh, come on, ami, what the hell else have we tried..."
Gambit said and grasped the card firmly before Toad could stop him.

"Hey!" Toad shouted reaching for Gambit's wrist, "You
can't do that..."

Gambit pushed the other mutant's arm away, "Too late...I
can't let go of this thing now or it will explode!"

"Oh, bloody hell, you idiots, if she can't melt the walls
what makes you think your little explosions will do shit!" Toad
shouted viciously.  The card began to glow brighter under Gambit's
fingers.

"Well, it's better than any idea you've had so far!"
Gambit shouted back.

"My ideas don't have you blowin' us up!" Toad shouted
again.

"Um...guys?" Rebecca said, her wide eyes fixed on the quickly
charging card, and she moved away from the door.

"No?  Well, then what's your idea?  Wait `til some robot
comes for us again and lick it to death?!" Gambit shouted, not
hearing Rebecca's worried tone.

"Guys?" she asked again as the card glowed white with power.

"Fucking french bastard..." Toad growled and crouched as if
he was ready to pounce on the Cajun.

"Very original..." Gambit spat back, absently releasing the
glowing card, "I'm glad you English are such..."

"GUYS!" Rebecca screamed and both men turned to glare at her
for the interruption.  Rebecca pointed at the glowing card angrily
and the other two barely had a moment to duck before the seven of
diamonds met it fiery fate.

Rebecca raised one hand toward the exploding card and redirected the
resulting flames away from herself and her `bunkmates.'  The
force hit the cots beyond, burning the rough blankets on each to ash.

As the dust settled, Toad and Gambit both sat up slowly and looked
at the front door.  There was not so much as a dent in the solid
material.  Rebecca coughed as the ash fell around her and she heard
Toad speaking first.

"I hate you," he said, glaring at Gambit viciously.

To the green mutant's increasing anger, the Cajun just chuckled
through his coughing and agreed.

"Oui...You and every man in the great state of Louisiana,
ami," Gambit said with a grin.

***
Archived at www.fanfiction.net/~leen713

The next interview will be with Bailey, author of the
stories "Remember This," "Party Time," "Want," and "Fixed" among
others.  The stories can be read at the WRFA archive
(http://www.wolverineandrogue.com/fic/dbauthor.php?author_id=218). I
will be conducting the interview around the beginning of March. Thus,
if you would like to suggest a question, please contact me by March
5th at the address below. Another announcement will be made when the
completed interview has been posted.

Thanks for your interst and participation.

Diane
deh@...

Hi all,

This is a very old (more than 3 years old) fic that people have requested I
posted from time to time and now I'm finally doing so.

Hope you will enjoy it:

The Pain Of Tomorrow

By Nadja Lee     04/12/00

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 after the movie

Universe: Set in the movie universe. Only the movie NOT the book that goes with
it!

Pairing: Scott/Ororo, Logan/Rogue and Jean/Warren

Summary: Scott has fallen ill and asks Ororo the one thing she can’t do. Or can
she?

Archiving: Want, ASK, take, have.

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

Rating: PG-13

Series: Part 3 of Pain Series but can be read as a stand- alone.

Warning: Character death! (kind of).

Thanks to Nancy for great and wonderful beta. Thanks so much!



*                    *                      *

“Scott, how are you feeling tonight?” Ororo asked her husband, concerned as she
entered sickbay after having left him for a few hours to do some paperwork in
regard to the school that couldn’t wait.

Scott had been bound to a hospital bed in the mansion’s sickbay for a year now
and his absence was obvious, leaving her with a lot more to do. Before he had
been forced to let her help with the running of the school she hadn’t realised
just how much work he usually did.

It was now evening, around nine, and stars had appeared on a clear late autumn
night. She had been teaching classes all day but always ate all her meals with
Scott and she had had a bed set up beside his so she could sleep with him as
well, never leaving him as she had promised all those years ago. She hated
leaving him for the slightest second but knew she had to. She just didn’t like
Scott to be alone and if she couldn’t be with him someone else often was. If no
one else, Hank or Jean would be there in their capacity as his doctors.

“ I’m …fine,” Scott rasped weakly and with a small gesture indicated she should
sit by his bedside. Gracefully as ever she walked through the room, sat by his
side, and took his hand in hers. Once, when they had married, Scott had had
strong hands, which could completely cover hers. Now, they were small and weak
and she could easily fold her hands around his. Her long white hair had grey
streaks in it but with years she had lost none of her grace and beauty. Scott’s
brown hair had also held grey streaks but now it was all gone due to the intense
chemotherapy he had been undergoing.

“The children want to see you. Won’t you please let them come? It has been two
weeks since last time,” Ororo asked softly, her voice holding no hint of
condemnation over Scott’s decision.

“ I …don’t want… them to see… me… like… this,” Scott said weakly and indicated
the machine which was monitoring his heartbeat and all the other equipment
around him. Soon after their wedding almost twenty years ago, Ororo and Scott
had adopted Sarah. Even though he of course loved his two other children that he
had with Ororo, Charles and Marissa, very much, Sarah had always held a special
place in his heart due to their shared childhood pains.

“Everything will be alright. I know it will,” Ororo said softly, needing to
reassure herself more than him. They both knew she was lying even though she
didn’t want to admit it.

“You…know…that…it... isn’t…true. I’m…dying. I have…accepted…that…Why can’t you?”
Scott whispered weakly, no fear in his voice. He had always been a man of action
and these past months had been hell for him. He had felt his body weakening and
his strength leaving him. If it hadn’t been for Ororo he doubted he would have
kept on fighting this losing battle.

“I…can’t. I love you.” Ororo’s courage finally deserted her and she broke down
crying and laid her head on Scott’s shoulder. “I don’t want to lose you,” she
sobbed into his shoulder. He closed his arms around her and held her close. As
her tears died away he whispered softly.

“Do…something…for…me?”

“Anything,” she vowed and wiped her tears away with the back of her hand as she
sat up and looked into his shaded eyes.

“Take…me…outside…..Don’t….let….this…,” with a weak hand he indicated the white
and sterile medical-lab in the mansion that had once belonged to Xavier but was
now owned by Scott and would soon go to Ororo. “…be…the…last…I…see”

“But if I move you, you’ll die!” Ororo protested and shook her head. She
couldn’t possible do what he asked. She of all people understood his desire to
be at one with nature in the end but she couldn’t do as he asked. She couldn’t.
She still clung to the foolish hope that there was still a hope to cling to. As
long as he lived there was hope.

“I…am…already…dead,” she wanted to deny it and began to sake her head but Scott
spoke again. Do…this…for…me,” he asked her weakly and she heard something in his
voice she had never heard before; pleading. If she could have seen his eyes
through the shades she would have seen a single tear forming in the corner of
his eye and a pleading look. She remembered all too well that both Hank and Jean
had told her that Scott’s body was weakening. He was dying. Hank was the
mansion’s new doctor and teacher. Jean had been working part time at the mansion
as a doctor but no longer as a teacher or anything else. She had instead been
working in town, trying to find cures for deadly illnesses and trying to find
out if there were ways to control or stop a painful and or deadly mutation.
Despite their best effects and combined knowledge they hadn’t been able to come
up with any leads. Even after Jean had pulled on all her very rich mutant
husband, Warren’s, money and power to try and save her one time lover, and now
friend, the result had still been the same. There was no cure.

A part of Ororo was glad that Xavier had passed away two years earlier because
she knew how much he had loved Scott. It would have hurt Charles to see him like
this and it would have hurt Scott to know he saw him this helpless. Magneto had
sought Xavier out when he had felt his won body weakening and he had spent the
last year of his life with his old friend, living at the mansion. Strangely
enough Xavier had peacefully died in his sleep only three weeks after Magneto
died.

She had tried to deny the truth before but she couldn’t deny it any longer. She
was losing Scott, her husband and the only man she had ever loved that strongly.
Just the realisation of it almost broke her.

“As you wish, my love,” she agreed in a tearful voice, trying hard to stay
strong for him. She began releasing him from the machines. With the help of a
gentle wind she took him in her arms and began flying him outside towards the
lake. He wore only a long white hospital grown and she made sure to call a wind
to her, which she laid over him like a warm blanket. He lay comfortably in her
embrace, held up and warmed by the winds she controlled. When they reached the
lakeside she lay him gently down on the ground on his side so he could look out
over the lake, keeping the warm winds around him like blankets, preventing him
from feeling the slightest chill. She lay down on the ground beside him, hugging
him close from behind, their hands intertwined. She wasn’t sure what he wanted
and she had trouble keeping the weather from displaying the turmoil she felt
within but she did her best to stay strong for him and even managed a small
smile as she pressed her cheek to his back. Had he been able to stand she would
have put him down closer to the lakeside, standing up so he could look out over
the lake properly but by now his body was so weakened that he could no longer
stand on his own power.

“ This...is…where…we…first…kissed,” Scott rasped, joy but also sadness in his
voice as he knew he would never fly free with Ororo like that again. A part of
him was glad that he couldn’t see Ororo’s face for he didn’t want her to see his
sorrow. He didn’t want her to grieve. She must have guessed his trail of thought
for she rose and walked around him, kneeling before him and smiling sadly at
him.

She held out a hand and took hold of his as she said, “Come, fly with me.” He
was about to say something but she added very quietly and with a heartbreaking
note that made him fell silent, “One last time.”

She called a wind to her and let it spiral around Scott, lifting him up and soon
he stood beside her, floating a few millimetres above the ground. Scott smiled,
enjoying the feel of air beneath his feet for the first time in a year. With a
wave of her hand the wind moved him to her and soon he stood before her, both of
his hands safely inside hers. Fighting her tears with a smile, Ororo let the
wind slowly begin to move them out towards the lake as she showed him the
freedom of flight, the wonder of nature, and the power of her love. But, more
than anything else, she showed him life. She flew them over the lake and the
wind made them spin very slowly around, the air still as warm as a comfortable
blanket to Scott. Colourful leaves were lifted from the ground and flew to them,
making a ring around the couple as they danced for them in all the colours of
the rainbow and the stars made their reflections in the lake glitter like
diamonds.

Scott gave her hands a light tug, letting her draw him close, her arms closing
around his chest as her head fell to rest upon his shoulder.

“Thank…you.” The words were soft and grew steadily weaker as he spoke into her
long white hair, his breath warm against her skin, making her shiver, something
no amount of cold weather had ever been able to do. “I …love...you...always.”

Scott’s whispered words grew fainter and fainter as he grew weaker. For a moment
in time he had regained that feeling of freedom and wonder that flying with
Ororo brought him. He felt his body failing him and knew that if Ororo hadn’t
called a warm and soft wind around him, he would have died long before now in
the cold winter air. He knew that the only reason he was alive to see this day
was because of the sophisticated machines his body had been hooked up to.

“And I love you,” Ororo replied with tears in her eyes as she knew this was to
be their last journey together.

Her embrace around Scott tightened in desperation and fear of what was to come
until her grip became almost painful but he didn’t voice a sound of complaint.
Fighting back her grief she held him close, letting the winds keep him warm and
airborne with her. Knowing how much Scott loved the feeling of air beneath him,
she slowly began to spin them around and flew them a little higher in the air.
The small leaves seemed to follow her as a halo as she flew with him over the
lake that seemed covered with glittering stars made of water. Getting worried by
his long silence, she landed on the lakeside and drew a little back from him so
she could see his face.

“Scott?” She asked, worried as he fell forward into her embrace. She slowly
eased him to the ground, trying to fight her tears; not wanting him to see her
sadness.

“Ororo,” he whispered so softly she could barely hear it, sounding as if he
wanted to say more. He reached out a hand as if to gently stoke her cheek. His
hand fell limp in midair and only her quick reflexes as she caught his hand in
hers and took it to her cheek prevented it from falling to the ground. Knowing
this was coming the world still seemed to freeze in shock when he became limp in
her arms and the last breath left his weak and tried body.

“NOOOO!” She yelled in agony and cradled his body tightly against hers,
desperately trying to will warmth and life into him. But he lay still, never to
move again. The weather reflected her sorrow as snow flakes began to fall over
the ground. Her tears fell on his shades like rain and she took them off with
shaking fingers. He had hated the shades that made him see everything in shades
of red and she’d be damned if he would die wearing them. Calling a wind to her,
she angrily threw the shades into the lake. She cupped his face with her hands
and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead as tears kept running down her cheeks.
This was the first time she had ever seen his naked face for more than a few
seconds when he changed glasses. He had always been so afraid he might hurt her
without glasses…She studied his face intensely, saw the signs of aging…Saw his
eyes frozen in death, a strangely calm look in their depths. Despite the effects
of age and illness she found herself smile bittersweetly through tears at him;
he was handsome. She looked at his frozen eyes. They were a soft blue, reminding
her of the colour of a bright summer day.  And that was what he had been to her,
an eternal summer. She let her fingers travel gently over his eyes. They were so
beautiful yet she had only seen them frozen in death. She gently let his eyelids
cover the blue of his eyes.

“I promised I would never leave you,” she cried miserably as she laid her head
on his shoulder. A determined look came to her sorrowful eyes “And I won’t!”

She let her emotions run wild, allowed the weather to truly reflect how she
felt. Snow fell heavily; the wind began to blow hard and cold. The coldness of
the weather began to tear in her but she refused to fight it and instead let it
possess her. She felt her blood freeze in her veins as the temperature dropped
even more, letting her sorrow turn everything around her into a cold and
freezing ice world. Every instinct in her wanted to use her power to warm
herself yet she refused. Without Scott she could see no warmth or light
anywhere. Everything turned to cold and hard ice.

“ I… will… never… leave …you,” she whispered through cold blue lips and lay
herself protectively over Scott’s body as she felt herself weaken. Soon the cold
granted her a sleep from which she could not return and her last movement was to
try and embrace Scott even tighter. Then her strength failed her and her grip
became limp. Snow fell from the sky as if it too cried for her sorrow and
continued to do so until the last trace of life had left her body. As her heart
finally stilled the sky stopped its frozen tears. By then the snow had fallen to
lie as a white blanket over the two lovers, keeping them safe…safe and hidden.



Epilogue:

When Logan returned the next day from having visited one of his grown-up
children who lived in Washington, fighting through politics to insure mutant
rights, that was how he found them, covered by a blanket of snow by the
lakeside. Ororo’s frostbitten hand still held on to Scott’s and her long white
hair lay as a curtain over a part of his face. He was struck by how peaceful
they looked. After a year of tears and pain, they had finally found peace in
each other’s arms.

Logan was the last to say his farewells to the two X-men as he stood by the
grave he and Rogue had made for them. He knew Ororo had had the power to stop
her own weather creation of ice and snow as well as the coldness that had
claimed her life but she had chosen not to. A part of him found comfort in the
fact that they were together yet still he missed them. Scott and Ororo had been
one of the few X-men who he had met from the beginning who were still around
after so many years of fighting. Thanks to Rogue having absorbed some of his
healing powers she would gain a few extra years of life than anyone else but he
knew that one day he too would have to face the choice that Ororo had faced; die
with his beloved or live on without her.

As Logan stood by the small gravestone he had made for them down by the lakeside
where he had found them he remembered something Ororo had asked him a few months
earlier, which he had been unable to answer.

“Why is the man with the strongest heart in a body that’s falling apart?”

There had been no answer to that then and he found there still wasn’t and never
would be. With a last silent farewell to the two lovers, Logan went into his
wife’s waiting embrace, knowing that he would appreciate the last years he had
with Rogue with a much more desperate intensity, now that he had seen up close
and personal how painful the loss of love could be. Of all the losses Logan had
suffered through the years he knew the loss of his wife would become the worst
and as he left Scott and Ororo’s gravesite he wasn’t sure if he would choose any
differently than Ororo had. Only time would tell.

Rain fell like teardrops from the sky as if it too mourned the passing of
lovers. Love had been found and love had been lost on the shore side of a small
lake outside an old mansion in New York. Time passed and no mark was left on
this earth of their love. Still it existed. Above the place where Logan many
years before had placed their headstone a simple twin star shone and bathed the
lake in its light. It is said that at night, if you look closely, you will see
the Weather Goddess with snow in her hair dancing on the winds with the man with
fire shining behind covered eyes. She’ll spin them around and colourful leaves
will dance around them and make a halo above them as they dance by the power of
love. But when light breaks they disappear as if they were never here. Truth or
rumour, no one knows, but look closely and you might find the Weather Goddess
with the snow coloured hair dance on the winds with the man with fire in his
eyes.



The End

Title: X-Book 3: Within the Storm - Chapter Seven: Outside the Hanger

By: Kath713/Leen713

Rating: PG-13 (violence, language)

Genre: Crossover, SPOILERS FOR X2

Summary: see prologue for book 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing in regards to the Marvel characters or
any character from a previously published source portrayed in this
story.

Reviews: Any feedback would be great and is appreciated!

***

Chapter Seven:

Rogue carefully lowered the small aircraft next to the larger X-Jet
and it landed evenly on the ground with a dull thud.  Mary exhaled
shakily, but considered the entire trip a success.  She had not
needed to use the little conspicuous paper bags on the side of her
chair, although she still was very glad to be on the ground again.

Professor Xavier moved toward the lowering ramp and looked pleased
at their unexpected arrival.  Rogue marched out onto the ground
first, and stopped by Xavier with concern.

"Rogue...Mary..." Xavier said with a greeting tone, "I
didn't expect you to follow us.  Is there a problem at the
mansion?"

Rogue shook her head and looked worried up at the open hanger door.

"They've already gone inside?" she asked quickly.

Xavier nodded, "Logan, Cyclops and Nightcrawler have gone to find
the prisoners taken by the Sentinel..."

With the last word, the Professor made a motion with his hand toward
the open door.  Just within, Rogue could just see the strange inert
craft sitting in the shadows.

"Magneto is here also...hopefully with the same intention of
finding and freeing those who were taken," Xavier continued.  The
young man standing further away from them shifted angrily.

"He better have the same intentions..." Sid muttered, his
arms folded in frustration.

"I don't know if that's a good idea, Professor,"
Rogue said anxiously, and then glanced at Mary to explain.  Xavier
met Mary's gaze and felt her fear.

"What did you see?" he asked and Mary shook her head.

"Nothing new..." she said, "But I think what I saw
earlier...I think I misinterpreted it."

"How so?" Xavier asked frowning.

"Two men, Professor," she said firmly, "There were two
men spoken of.  One was Magneto...I'm sure of that.  But the
other...was a general...and he is the danger.  Magneto did not
intend to harm anyone today but the general intends to harm
him...and anyone else around him."

Xavier frowned in confusion, "A general?  Perhaps the commander
of this base..."

Stryker...the though passed through Rogue's mind loud enough for
the Professor to sense.  He looked at her intently, and sent a
message back, No...I cannot be...

"However," he continued aloud, "I did sense a very angry
mind in the compound.  Mutants have more enemies that just the late
William Stryker."

"Well, whoever it is..." Mary said, "He's brought
Magneto here on purpose.  But...there's another reason for the
Sentinel...but I don't know what..."

Mary sighed in frustration, and shook her head.

"I just don't know..." she said and Xavier looked
sympathetically at her.  He understood her aggravation in this
situation.  He was still unable to sense anyone else below except
the X-Men and Brotherhood members.  Speculation was all they had
now, until the true explanation presented itself.

Around them, the air was growing colder and small snowflakes began
to fall.

Xavier looked up at the white sky with odd anxiety.

"There may be any number of reasons why the machine was made to
gather mutants..." Xavier said, "For registration of what
they can do, since the government has not officially passed the law
yet.  For identification of mutants who may be a danger to society.
For..."

"For experimentation..." Sid finished for him, and then added
bitterly, "Don't forget that one..."

A memory passed through Sid's mind, but was repressed before
Xavier could understand it completely.

"Yes..." Xavier agreed, "All the more reason to get them
out quickly..."

"Which is why I should be in there with them," Sid pressed,
and Rogue stepped toward him.

"If Logan's inside..." she said firmly, "He'll
find them.  He's been in these types of places before..."

"And what makes you think I haven't?" Sid asked, and
Rogue paused in surprise.  Quickly, the misdirected anger faded from
Sid's face and he looked at her apologetically.

"I'm sorry..." he said, "I know you guys are X-Men or
X-Women or whatever.  This is your game now, so I'll play..."

"This isn't a game," Rogue said angrily and Sid gave her
a strange grin.

"Of course it is," he replied, "It's all a game.
Catch the mutants...save the mutants...right?  I've played it
before..."

Xavier regarded him intently.  It was strange to listen to the young
man's mind.  It was as if there was more than one person speaking
at one time.  Each emotion brought out a different internal voice,
some argumentative, some pacifying.  Xavier wondered if it would be
difficult to get a mental hold on Sid Malloy, should the need arise.

Rogue glared at Sid for another moment before turning to Mary again.

"It'll come to you, if there's a danger," Rogue
reassured her, "It has before, I'm sure I would again."

Mary nodded with a smile, and Sid looked away from them with
embarrassment.  He did not mean to be so harsh but he was just so
fucking frustrated.  He looked back at the two young women and
noticed Mary shiver.

"You're a seer?" he asked.

Mary nodded and smiled.  Somehow hearing her power explained so
simply made her feel better.  She saw things...past, present,
future, whatever....she just saw and that was it.  Everyone sees,
she just sees a little more...

"Can't see too much right now though," Mary replied and
Sid chuckled.  He looked at her as she rubbed her hands together for
warmth and gestured toward the X-Jet.

"They've got spare jackets in there if you need one," he
said, and then motioned to his own tattered suit coat, "I would
offer mine, but it was a little...damaged."

Mary frowned as she noticed the small circular holes scattered
across his chest.

"What happened?" she asked and he shrugged.

"Your general's troops took a few shots at me," Sid
replied, and then grinned, "I didn't see that coming, so if
you get
the sense it might happen again...let me know."

Mary laughed, "No problem."

Sid suddenly frowned again and turned back to face the hanger
quickly.

Xavier also sensed a change below, mutants somewhere below had begun
using their powers.  After a moment, they heard Sid speak aloud.

"Rebecca's awake..."

***
Archived at www.fanfiction.net/~leen713

Title: X-Book 3: Within the Storm - Chapter Eight: Scents of
Predators

By: Kath713/Leen713

Rating: PG-13 (violence, language)

Genre: Crossover, SPOILERS FOR X2

Summary: see prologue for book 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing in regards to the Marvel characters or
any character from a previously published source portrayed in this
story.

Reviews: Any feedback would be great and is appreciated!

***

Chapter Eight:

Cyclops led the X-Men down the dark halls of the compound quickly.
Every now and then, Nightcrawler would teleport ahead, and then give
them the all clear to continue.  Wolverine trailed behind them,
sniffing the air suspiciously.  There were the scents of many others
in the air, and they had not been gone long.  Beneath the smells of
the soldiers, he searched out a few familiar scents, warily glanced
backward, expecting an attack at any minute.

However, they had walked for nearly twenty minutes, and had not so
much as seen one guard or other living being.  The scents were
growing stronger as they moved inward, but still far off.

Suddenly, Wolverine paused and sensed the presence of an enemy.

"Hold on," he said, and the others turned back to look at
him.  Wolverine was frowning deeply, and inhaled a few times before
speaking.

"Sabertooth..." he growled, "He was around here not too
long ago.  And...Deathstrike.  Both came down this way..."

"Right," Cyclops said, "Let's stay alert.  Any trace
of the prisoners?"

Wolverine shook his head, "No...let's keep moving..."

***

A little deeper inside the base, Sabertooth and Pyro stood over the
slashed bodies of three dead soldiers.  Apparently, not all the
guards had been ordered to retreat from their posts.  Sabertooth
frowned as he looked on the cooling bodies, disappointed that
someone had gotten to them before he did.

Pyro felt sick, suddenly faced with real death.  This was not a game
anymore.  He struggled to keep his composure.

"The Lady..." he said, and Sabertooth glared down as Pyro
continued, "The Lady Deathstrike did this.  We must be going the
right way."

Sabertooth inhaled to catch the Lady's scent...but caught someone
else's instead.  He began to growl and Pyro glanced at him
nervously.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Shut up," Sabertooth said back in a low voice.  He breathed
in again, and a vicious smile spread over his large mouth.

Wolverine... he thought.  He turned and began to walk in the
opposite direction.

"Hey!" Pyro shouted after him, "Why are you going back?
I thought we were..."

Sabertooth cut him off with a roar, and Pyro decided not to argue
with the large mutant.

"X-Men," Sabertooth finally replied, "Be ready..."

Pyro snapped his lighter once, and grinned wickedly.  He had been
waiting for this moment for eight months.

"Don't worry...I am."

***

For about thirty seconds, the control room monitoring the cellblock
was in complete chaos.  None of the soldiers had time to react as
the clawed woman burst through the small door and decimated their
ranks.

As the room filled with the scent of coppery blood, Deathstrike
strolled calmly to one console and regarded the multiple monitors
intently.  Most were identical, showing an empty dark cell, until
she spotted a screen that was a little more active.  She watched the
three mutants sitting imprisoned, and was pleased that they all
seemed in good condition.

With a quick tapping of keys, Deathstrike accessed control of the
cell doors.  A few more typing strokes and the red light over the
occupied cell turned green.  Toad would bring the girl to Magneto,
and Deathstrike would ensure it would be without interference by
Stryker.

She stood and walked over to another control panel.  Only three
monitors glowed on the wall above and her eyes focused on the
central one.  It showed a larger central base of operations, and
among the bustling troops stood the General, his arms clasped
arrogantly behind his back.  She knew she was very close to him now.

With quick fury, Deathstrike tore her claws down through the center
monitor, and then headed out to do the same thing to the General.

***
Archived at www.fanfiction.net/~leen713

Story Title: Past Midnight

Rating: NC-17 for explicit sex

Pairing: Xavier/Magneto

Fandom: X-men movieverse, post X2. This is an independent sequel to
my series, "Old Friend" but can stand alone as well.

Summary: A short ficlet describing what happens during a short
moment in a hotel room shared by Charles Xavier and Magneto.

Archive: My personal site,
http://www.geocities.com/henrika_amanda/Index.html and list
archives. Anyone else, please ask me first. My email address is
henrika15_@...

A/N: This is sort of a sequel to "Old Friend" which can be found
here: http://adultfan.nexcess.net/aff/story.php?no=12045 but can be
read independently as well.
No real warnings. Minor angst, some fluff, m/m sex… Nothing bad.

Feedback: Please? Welcome on and off list, and as a review, if
you're reading this at aff.net.

*~*~*~*~*

Charles Xavier stirred from his sleep only to discover that he was
alone in the king-sized hotel bed he shared with his old friend this
night. For a split second Charles believed Erik had left, but a
quick, telepathic scan over their suite proved that he was mistaken.
Charles' eyes slid back shut and his lips curved in a contented
smile. Of course Erik had not left. They met so rarely nowadays that
every second spent together was treasured. His lover would be back
soon, and Charles would again feel the warmth of his body against
his own.

It was past midnight. Charles felt drowsy, but he didn't want to
fall back to sleep before Erik returned to bed. The wine they had
drunk earlier made his head feel pleasantly light, and when he
closed his eyes it almost felt like he could float away. Did Erik
feel the same way? He had always been the one with a low alcohol
tolerance, and yet he drank more than Charles.

Just when Charles thought he'd go back to sleep, he heard soft,
padding footsteps approaching the bed. Erik obviously believed his
old friend to be asleep, and took care not to disturb him. Charles
couldn't help smiling into his pillow. He opened his eyes half-way
and regarded the approaching figure from under his eyelashes.

Erik was naked, save for a pair of slippers he had on his feet.
Erik, clothed or unclothed, was always a lovely sight. His body was
still slim and well-toned despite that he would turn 70 next year,
and his silver mane of hair, now unruly, always glowed in the faint
light that managed to find its way in through the curtains. Suddenly
Charles felt an overwhelming urge to feel Erik's slim, pale thighs
wrapped around his waist, and tangling his hands in Erik's soft
beautiful hair. It might take a while before he had another chance.

There was a light bump when Erik crawled back into bed, and Charles
sighed in pleasure when Erik's arm closed around his waist and the
heat of his solid body spooned around his back.

"Hmmm…" he murmured and felt a familiar stirring in his loins. It
had not been *that* long, and he was already up for another round!
Only Erik could cause this kind of behaviour in him.

"Go back to sleep…" Erik whispered to him, mouth close to his ear.

"I am not asleep," Charles replied. "I was waiting for you to come
back."

"Were you now? What woke you up?"

"The bed felt cold and empty without you. Where did you go…? It is
past midnight…"

"Past two, actually," Erik informed him. "Really, I just needed some
fresh air and a glass of water. They have a really wonderful
balcony. You should check it out."

Charles didn't know if he should be amused or shocked. "You went
there naked?" he asked in wonder.

Erik chuckled in reply. "Oh, come on! I doubt anyone saw me. It is
night, after all, and the night air felt so good against my skin. If
you'd like, I could take you there, and you can find out for
yourself."

"No, thank you. I think I want to stay here, and you are going to
stay here with me," Charles murmured and put his hand atop Erik's
under the covers.

"Yes, I am, Charles. Don't worry."

Erik's hand slid lower, and it didn't take him long to discover
Charles' growing arousal. He teasingly squeezed his prize, drawing a
blissful moan from the telepath.

"I pity all those who make the mistake in believing *everything*
below your waist is dead!" he said, chuckling softly. "This piece
certainly isn't. I thought I spent you some hours ago, but it seems
like I was wrong!"

"Erik, please…" Charles gasped, his penis throbbing with need.

"Please, what?"

"If you care about me, you will help me take care of it."

"So indeed. Don't I always?"

Charles could now feel Erik's own arousal pressing against the small
of his back. He snickered into his pillow. "It seems like the night
air revived you wonderfully, old friend. You don't exactly seem
unwilling!"

"Who said I was that?" Erik objected. "But in either case, you are
not going to let me sleep before I fix it, will you?"

"I could always fill your head with images that will make you want
me more."

"It won't come to that, I hope. The real you can usually do the
trick."

Erik suddenly bounced up and flipped Charles onto his back with
surprising strength and agility, and then straddled his belly.
Charles began to pass his hands over Erik's lean, sinewy body,
starting with his thighs, but Erik's captured them before they could
go any further.

"Not so fast, Charles," Erik said. "I am the one in control here. So
keep your hands to yourself for yet another while."

Erik ran his own hands over Charles' chest, delighted in finding the
telepath's nipples being hard little pebbles. He took one small,
light-brown bud between his thumb and index finger, and squeezed it
until Charles yelped in something that could best be described as a
mixture of pain and pleasure. His own arousal was getting painful as
well, and he moved his hands to stroke it, making Charles smile at
the erotic sight. He smiled back down at his lover, and moved a few
inches downward, so Charles' erection slid in between his buttocks.

"Well, well," he said. "I sure think you would like to get inside me
this time. Am I right in assuming this, or is your little friend
doing the thinking for you?"

"I…I would very much like that," Charles said, trying hard to make
his voice sound steady. He was still slightly sore from their
coupling earlier in the evening, when Erik had taken him, so that
was probably the best solution. Not that Erik was ever rough, but
sometimes he was just… a bit too eager?

"Alright," Erik said. "I want it, too."

He picked up the small bottle of lubricant from the bedside table,
and used the transparent cream to slick Charles' erection, and his
own opening. He was rarely the receiving end, and the first entry of
his fingers actually hurt a bit, but he trusted he could do it
without causing himself pain. This was Charles, after all; the man
he trusted more than anyone. Besides, he would physically be on top
despite being penetrated.

"Okay…ready?" he asked seriously, placing the head of Charles'
erection at his anus.

Charles nodded breathlessly.

"Try to keep your cries down," Erik advised him, knowing Charles
tended to be a vocal lover. "It is past two, and we are not alone
here."

Slowly Erik sat down on the shaft, his eyes closed and his mouth
half-way open. He felt momentary pain, but that faded when his body
had adjusted to the feeling of being filled so completely. When his
body had accepted the invasion, he began to move.

Charles let Erik run the show this time as well. He was generally
passive in bed, and just because his cock was inside Erik this time,
it did not change his basic nature. Erik was rocking his hips, up
and down, back and forth, left to right… His countenance was
serious, but Charles could see the smile in his eyes whenever their
gazes met. After some time he seized Erik's hands, that lay flat
against his chest, and entwined their fingers. Erik's hands were
incredibly beautiful; long and slender, yet strong and capable.
Those were the hands of a great artist and a skilled craftsman.
Charles brought one of them to his lips and kissed Erik's palm. One
finger slid inside his mouth, and he suckled it, as eagerly as an
infant would suck milk from its mother's breast.

Their quiet, passionate lovemaking lasted for yet a few minutes, and
a flex of Erik's internal muscles finally sent Charles over the
peak, and he climaxed, filling his lover's dark insides with his
seed.

Erik collapsed on Charles' chest, his body covered by a thin coat of
perspiration. He could hear the solid pumping of Charles' heart
strongly through his chest, and the sound, rhythmic as it was,
soothed him. The telepath ran his fingers through his old friend's
uncontrolled mane of silver hair, and planted a kiss on the top of
his head.

"Erik, that was wonderful…" he whispered. "I am so glad I woke up!"

Erik, regaining some of his lost strength, propped himself up on his
elbows, and grinned down at Charles. "Yes, I can see why," he said.

With a languid motion he slid off Charles and rolled onto his back.
His breathing was still heavy and he was waiting for his pulse to go
back to normal. Despite his youthful carriage, Erik was – too
quickly, it seemed – approaching his 70th year, and sex was a strain
on his body. He knew the time would come, when he'd no longer be
able to go through with the act, but he hoped that day was still far
away.

A quick glance at the wall clock told him it was now past three. A
few more hours, and he would be forced to part from Charles. It was
always like this. Whenever they met, there never seemed to be enough
time. A few hours in a hotel room, thank you, and goodbye.

"I know," Charles said quietly and pulled Erik's hand to his
cheek. "I know we don't have enough time, so let's not waste what we
have."

Erik smiled in reply. "Right now, I think sleep would serve us
right."

"Yes, I think so too. I still can't believe you went out on the
balcony naked, though…"

"Oh, shut up!" Erik laughed. "I think I have done worse in my days!"

"Never mind. Now come here. I want to sleep with you next to me,"
Charles said, pulling Erik's arm over his waist once more.

Just a few hours, and they would be perhaps a hundred miles from
each other. Again…

The End

It's up there.

To all who have given me support and kind words, I
thank you, and I want you to know that Seasons is not
over.  Far from it!

When I started posting daily doses of the story I was
hoping that I would keep writing them quickly enough
to be able to keep up with the daily posts to the end.
  Unfortunately, that hasn't happened.  I *do*
anticipate that it will go on for another 20-30
chapters, however, I will not be able to post them
daily.

Lots of things are ahead.  There will be ass-kicking
by a lactating Rogue.  Rogue will have a rival for
Logan's attentions.  A disturbing fact about Maggie's
parentage will come to light.  There will be a death
in Westchester, and Rogue will get fifteen minutes of
fame.  And then there's the part involving Oprah
Winfrey... :)

Thank you all again for the feedback.  XOXO to all of
you!

November

=====
~~~~~~~~Miss November Tuesday~~~~~~~
fanfic ~ original erotica ~ true stories
~~~~~~~~~~www.novemberotica.com~~~~~~~~~~

Title:   Hero

Author:   black_wingedbird

Summary:   My first completed X-Men fic that wanted to be read before winter is
completely over. Please send supported feedback directly to
jaysmyrascal@...

Rating/warning & pairing (if applicable): PG13ish, no pairing

Hero

Logan sighed as he let his weary body melt into the bed beneath him. Healing
factor or not, an entire day of trying to transfer knowledge that makes perfect
sense in your head into a dozen teenager's heads will take it's toll. How hard
is it to make your body move in a decent defense maneuver? Logan let a soft half
growl, half groan escape his lips in remembrance.

He looked out the frosty window and watched the delicate white slivers of ice
dance down to earth, a sharp contrast against the dark evergreens that lined the
school's property. The snowfall beckoned him, drawing Logan into a peaceful
trance that dulled his senses and he soon lost track of time. Time didn't matter
anyway, not to Logan. He had plenty of it. He became quite content as a boneless
form resting in silence until his phone rang, piercing through the quiet
numbness.

Wolverine snatched the phone off the wooden nightstand with an annoyed growl.
The phone flinched. "Hello?"

"Logan?" Rogue's broken voice filled the line.

Wolverine's angry demeanor immediately flopped on it's back with it's tail
between it's legs. Logan sat up on the bed. "What's wrong darlin'?"

A sound mixed between a sob and a chuckle preceded her. "Um, are you busy right
now?"

"Rogue, where are you?" Logan asked, already reaching for his jacket on the back
of the bedroom door. Stalling always meant something was up, especially from
Rogue.

"In a ditch," came the incredibly pathetic whimper. "Am'm stuck Logan, this damn
foreign car sucks! I guess Korea has no snow! I am so pissed off! Ah'm gonna
cry..."

Logan smiled as a strange paternal instinct surged through him. "What direction
Marie?" he asked again, moving the phone to the other ear as he shut the bedroom
door behind him.

She relayed her location to him and he could hear the embarrassment in her voice
once she told him that she was less than a mile from the mansion. Logan stalked
through the dark hallways, lit by the eerie orange glow of the winter sunset. He
grabbed 'his' keys from a hook by the door and and walked heavily across the
cold garage. "I'm on my way darlin'," he reassured her as he sat on 'his'
motorcycle. Pocketing the phone, he smiled his cockiest smile as he started the
bike and pushed off into the freezing night air.

~o0O0o~





When Wolverine finally came within seeing distance of Rogue, he was beyond
irritated. He couldn't feel his extremities, ANY of them, and even his nose hair
was frozen. He hadn't realized how much the past few months in a heated
environment had softened him. In fact now that he did realize it, he was
embarrassed. Scott would have a hay day with this. It seemed that when memories
were made as Logan, some of Wolverine's faded. The whole process confused him
and intrigued Jean and the professor.

But when he coasted to a stop beside Marie, Logan gave her a reassuring smile.
The brunette leaned against the red sports car wrapped in a hooded coat. As he
walked toward her, he could smell tears. "You okay?" he asked, looking down at
her as he reached towards her arm.

Marie looked at him with watery eyes and a trembling smile. "Yeah," she
muttered. "I guess it's actually kinda funny."

Something snaked around Logan's heart and squeezed. He returned the smile and
motioned to the car. "Get in. I'll help ya." His breath took shape in the
freezing temperature and quickly rose towards the darkening sky.

Marie wiped her eyes with a gloved hand before obeying. Logan positioned himself
in between the car frame and the open door as she started the car. "Alright,
turn the wheels to the left and back up," he instructed. The wheels spun as the
engine revved, but slowly, the car moved. "Give it more gas," Logan said over
the scream of burning rubber. He wrapped his arms around the car frame and threw
the wieght of his adamantiam skeleton into helping the car move. His boots
slipped over the ice as he struggled to get good footing. "Keep going," he
grunted, hauling the car inch by inch back onto the road.

"Logan, please don't hurt yourself."

Logan spared her a questioning glace. "Turn the wheels to the right," he spat,
the burn of his biceps beginning to unthaw his arms.

He watched Rogue fight against the steering wheel as the tires slipped into the
grooves in the snow left by her previous attempt. A look of pure concentration
spread over her face. "Help me!" she whimpered, frustrated.

"You're doin it darlin', just keep trying." The snow was falling harder now and
Logan watched his breath vaporize in the air. It reminded him of a cigar he was
starting to crave. The car's rear tires were spinning uselessly now and Logan
sighed another puff of steam. "Okay, put it in drive."

The car lurched forward, taking Logan's feet out from under him. "Stop!" He
yelled as his heavy frame plopped into the six inches of snow and ice covering
the ground.

He lay in the forgiving snow, puffing and staring up to the moon for strength. A
single snowflake landed on his nose. It was so hard to be manly when you'd just
been knocked on your ass. As the frigid snow began seeping through his clothes,
he growled and Wolverine pushed himself to his feet. His boots were full of
melting snow and his backside was covered in the stuff, not to mention the cold
aching through his bones. What had happened to make this animal go to such
lengths to help this girl? At what point did he start to care?

"Logan?"

He looked at her and saw concern written on her face. With a sigh, he resumed
his position. Each step sounded a satisfying crunch. He ducked his head to study
their progress. "Alright, turn all the way to the right and back up again."

Rogue looked at him. "Do you want me to call Bobby or Scott to help you?"

"No!" he barked. "I can do it."

A tiny smile crept on her face. She looked at him a moment longer then turned
the wheel and started again.

The lightweight car struggled to plow through the deepening snow. Fumes poured
out of the exhaust and all the horses strained under the hood. A bead of sweat
trickled down Logan's temple as he all but ran in place, struggling to find his
footing. "Keep going," he grunted. The tires continued to inch the car back onto
the road, pleasing Logan with the slow progress. His arms and legs burned with
exhaustion and fatigue. What good was his solid frame if he couldn't even
perform a simple task like this? One look at Rogue answered his question. She
glanced at him briefly while trying to see their progress and that one quick
look made him feel like he was the center of her universe.

Suddenly the tires gripped a bare patch of pavement and the car hurled onto the
road and over the center line before Rogue got the car stopped. Logan fell
heavily into the snow, face first as the car ripped itself from his grip. His
knuckles itched with infuriating discomposure, so he buried them in the snow and
prepared to cut loose his claws. But before he could move, Rogue was sitting on
top of him.

He flipped over and looked up at her as she shifted to sit on his stomach. His
mind searched for words, claws forgotten. "What are you doing?"

She grinned with mischief. Before he could toss her aside, she shoved a handful
of snow under his shirt and giggled as she dashed to the car, locking herself
in.

Logan tried to understand what had just happened. Was she playing with him? He
lay there a while longer, trying to remember the last time he had 'played' and
wasn't surprised when he couldn't. He had never known anyone to be so
comfortable around him. Hell, he wasn't comfortable with most people he knew.
Logan was vaguely aware of the coldness invading his metal frame. His mind was
working overtime as he supported his torso with his elbows. Somehow without him
noticing, Rogue had crept back to him and now extended her gloved hand. "Come
on, you're gonna freeze to death."

He accepted her, grabbing her hand. "Darlin', I've tried, believe me." Logan had
said it nonchalantly but now her face looked hurt. Whoops.

"Logan! Look at your fingers!" she exclaimed suddenly, focusing their attention
on his numb, purple fingers. "Come on, we've gotta get you to Jean. They need to
be thawed out.."

Logan let himself be led to the still running car, watching her words of worry
float into the towering pine trees surrounding them. As Rogue started shoving
him into the passenger seat, he interrupted her, daze broken. "Stop! I gotta
take the bike back." It wasn't Scott he was worried about, it was the professor
after Scott told him how Logan could hotwire their transportation at his own
free will.

"No Logan, you're hands-"

"I can't just leave it," he replied. "It's not mine," he added quietly, a grin
pulling at the corners of his mouth, willing her to smile also.

"But you're freezing..." she pouted, silently cursing his doggedness.

But Logan was already walking, stomping through the slush towards the abandoned
motorcycle. Rogue sighed as she recognized the stubborn determination that
stiffened his muscular form. "Alright," she said to herself as she started the
car. The radio illuminated with a soft green glow and displayed the time. Her
ordeal had required 45 minutes of his time and masculine effort, and now she
began the trek back home solo. "My hero," she sighed, putting the car in drive
and starting down the road behind the feral form on the borrowed bike.
END
feedback!


When I think of heaven
deliver me in a black-winged bird
I think of flying down into a sea of pens and feathers
And all other instruments of faith and sex and God
in the belly of a black-winged bird.
Don't try to feed me
I've been here before
And I deserve a little more
-Counting Crows, Rain King

---------------------------------
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Yahoo! Mail SpamGuard - Read only the mail you want.

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

TITLE: Dreaming the Same Dream 1/1

AUTHOR: November Tuesday

EMAIL: novemberotica@...

SUMMARY: "The Logan-in-Rogue’s-head hybrid is turning
me on more than Logan ever did."

'VERSE: Movie, a few weeks post-X1, no spoilers.

RATING: NC-17.

WARNINGS: Femslash.  Age issues, but not really.  M/F.
Quasi-ethical Jean.  No wait, some folks dig that...

FEEDBACK: Loved and cherished.

DISCLAIMER:  Fox, Marvel, etc, own it all.  I will not
be held liable for wettened underpants.  ;)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This wet little thing infiltrated my
brain when I should have been working on SoG.

A NOTE TO W/R SHIPPERS:  I am posting this to shipper
groups but be warned, it is W/R only by proxy.  Skip
if the other elements squick you.

It's at novemberotica.com, under fanfic.

:)


=====
~~~~~~~~Miss November Tuesday~~~~~~~
fanfic ~ original erotica ~ true stories
~~~~~~~~~~www.novemberotica.com~~~~~~~~~~

"Alkali Secrets" Chapter 1, Logan/OC  [PG-13] X2

Title: Alkali Secrets
author: Megan Ellyson (lilyanialeigh@...)
(brief) summary: Logan goes in search of more truth to his past and
heads back to Alaska. What he does not except to find is a mutant
with a familiar feel. Could she know about his past? Is there more
to Alkali Lake that meets the eye? He seeks an answer to what they
were doing at that facility.
Rating/warning & pairing (if applicable): PG-13

Feedback: Open to any feedback

Chapter One

The hum of a vibrating motorcycle coming to a halt echoed through a
lonely vacant town in the middle of Alaska. Logan stood shaking off
the snow that was left after the cold ride through the state. The
cigar in his mouth gave him heat while the air contrasted it with a
frosty gust. He looked at the grayish tinted building offered a
night's rest and hopefully some food before another day of
seeking the truth would pass. Now just to find out if a room was
available.

He strolled through the office doors just to find it empty of any
kind of human life. In front of him sat a bell for service, so
Logan's hand sent the bell ringing through the room. Just as
clockwork, a gray haired man about fifty walked towards the counter
from a back room and looked Logan up and down.

  "I need a room," Logan's rugged voice stated to the man.
He observed the man picking up a key from the back wall and writing
scribble on a forum.

"Sign this please," the man said politely towards Logan. The
old man's hands were tired and aged, as too was his face. They
showed signs of too many cold winters spent in this desolate town,
which rarely was inhabited.

Logan handed the forum back to the man and received a key in
exchanged. "Room 4, outside and to the right," the man said
as Logan walked away.

Logan walked back into the blistering cold and turned to the right.
As he walked, he saw a bar across the way with a light on. He
decided to put his bag in his room and maybe go over for a beer or
two. He opened the green shaded door into a bland room that screamed
boredom to him. The flannel bed was maybe a twin size or probably a
bit bigger did not look homely or comfortable, but he did not care
about the comfort. Only thing he cared for was the idea that it was
some place for him to sleep. He placed his leather bag containing
clothes and a few necessary things on the dresser before he left.

Logan placed the metal key into his jacket pocket and closed the
door to the room after he started towards the bar. Brandy lingered
in the air while voices followed flowing to the outside world. It
was a log-cabin looking place with antlers for lights and roughnecks
drowning themselves in alcoholic beers and drinks. As Logan entered
the bar, the endless blabber stayed consistent. The room was smoke
hazed and occupied by about 15 men and a few servers.

Logan spied a table alone near the back of the room. He gradually
walked his way through chairs of people to sit down. He took off his
jacket and waiting for a waitress to take his order. His face shown
different to the others due to his feral qualities, but he was sure
no one would notice him as a mutant. He lit his cigar and took a
drag off it.

Medusa was working her tables as she had done for about two years
now. She did not know what else she could do considering her lack of
a constant place to stay. She was left alone and trying to fend in
this land of ice and snow. Her auburn hair was pulled back the best
it could by a black ponytail holder with a layer of bangs escaping
its grasp. Her smiles were less bright than earlier; she was tired
of the hounding from the drunken roughneck truckers that thought she
owed them a good time for their money.

"Carl, I don't see why you let them do this," Medusa said
lightly. "They have been harassing Jaime as well as me. They
shouldn't be able to do that."

Carl looked at her annoyed, "quit whining, Medusa, and do your
job. A customer just walked in, take his order and we will discuss
this later."

Medusa glided towards Logan in the back of the room. Her scarlet
tank top and black denim jeans showed her slender body. Even though
she was not paper thin or on the chunky side, she body was
definitely well structured. She placed the circular tray on her hip
thinking about how she would rather be doing something constructive
instead of aiding the drunks in their quest to pass out.

"Is there anything I can get for you tonight?" Medusa asked
not paying any attention to Logan.

"I'll have a beer," he replied as he looked up at his
waitress. Her reddish tinted bangs dangled from her head that had
auburn hair descended into the pulled back ponytail. His eyes
brushed across her Celtic face and strong features. Her ivory flesh
looked smooth even in the dull hazy light in the bar. Their eyes met
for a moment, which seemed like hours. Her bright emerald eyes shown
into this milk chocolate eyes which brought a déjà vu feeling in the
back of her mind. Medusa saw his rugged features and felt like she
had touched his skin once before. His scent even felt so comforting
as to bring back a memory or something.

Logan felt a familiar feeling about her eyes. For a moment saw her
pupil change to a slit like position and then back to normal. She
was very beautiful and felt so familiar; he could not place where he
had known her. Even her scent felt like an old shirt or something
wrapping around him, but could not be placed.

"I'll…go ahead and… get that…" Medusa said
stumbling through her words. She turned and shook her head of its
confusion. She could not understand why looking at the man she felt
like she had known him before. Leaning on the bar waiting for Carl
to get a beer out of the cabinets in the back. Flashes of pained
lightening struck her mind with scattered memories of a laboratory
that had already haunted her dreams as of late. Injection needles,
screams echoing in the background, and military uniforms coursed
through her mind. The screams were her own and another's, for whom
she could not name.

"Medusa!" Carl exclaimed to get her attention.

Medusa was jolted back into the bar with no screaming only the
drunken laughter of the customers.

"Medusa, are you okay?" Carl worriedly questioned.

"Hmm…yeah….I'm fine."

"You just about fell or passed out."

"Carl, I'm fine. Just a little light headed." Medusa
looked at Carl with a smile due to his caring about her deep
down. "Give me the beer," Medusa said taking the beer from Carl and
starting towards Logan.

Logan had been watching Medusa not knowing what to think about her
and her familiarity. She walked, as she would glide on ice without a
flaw. He could not even begin to express why she felt like a dream
come back to haunt him or something.

Medusa was looking at the ground to watch her step and was still a
little dizzy for the flashing memories. A tall wall built man
slapped her rear and sent a touch of anger shifting through her
body. The tall trucker smiled and tried to pull Medusa into his
drunken lap.

"Come on, baby," said inebriated trucker.

"Let me go," Medusa cried as she struggled to get away from
him. As her silver dog tag escaped the underneath of her shirt, the
light shimmered upon it revealing the name embedded in its metallic
state. The name "MEDUSA" caught Logan's attention as well as the
number 458 25 384. Logan could not believe that her ID matched the
one he had before and realized she was like him.

"You owe me something more for my money," said the trucker
placing his hands inappropriately around her waist. Medusa started
to struggle harder as her pupils changed into reptile slits.
Suddenly a voice came striking through the room.

"Leave her alone, Bub," Logan demanded standing next to the
trucker.

Medusa looked directly at Logan with pleading eyes.

"Go away man," the trucker replied, "She's my whore.
Find your own." The trucker pushed Logan away the best he could.

Logan retaliated with a fist to the trucker's face. The blow
forced the trucker to the down as well as Medusa. Her neck felt
jerked with the blast to the floor and landed almost on top the
trucker. Logan lifted her up to stand and once again, their eyes met
in complete familiarity.

"Thanks," came hushed from Medusa's lips. She stood
looking at the one who defended her when not even Carl would have. A
flash of fist came into Medusa's view and Logan was knocked back a
bit in a second. The trucker had gotten back up from the hit and
slugged Logan right in the face. Medusa got in the way of the
trucker before he could get a second slug in.

"Carl!" she screamed, "Do something!" The bartender
stood stunned for a moment and then started to go for his trusty
shotgun in the back.

Logan got up and three metal claws extended from his knuckles while
the trucker tossed Medusa out of the way. The fight began as a brawl
and Logan took swings at the trucker with those metallic claws.
Medusa could not believe what this strange mysterious man had coming
from his knuckles. She was not the only one she thought to herself.
She could not just watch as this heroic man was hurt by this
trucker. Medusa's eyes brightened with a jade glow and green
scales began to seep over her arms and face. The area between her
elbow and wrist had grown adamantium spines on both arms that
resembled the back of an iguana. She jumped through the room and
landed on the back of the trucker lifting him from Logan's reach.
She threw the trucker into a wall and his back broke the beam
holding that part of the ceiling up. Logan stood in awe seeing the
waitress changed into a crazed reptile with the same metal on her
body that was in his.

The trucker once again got up from the blow do to his delayed pain
from drinking excessively. He took a staggering swing at her face
and missed terribly. Although she did not miss when she swung the
side of her left arm slicing into the trucker's leg. That sent
him to the ground for good while Medusa looked up and saw everyone
staring at her. She panicked when see saw them and ran straight out
of the door into the cold. She left behind terrified customers and
Logan. Which even Logan departed from the bar after that without
being noticed by the others.

Coming soon: Chapter 2

When Love and Hate Collide pt 1

Rated PG-13 for violence and language

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Marvel characters, however the
creation of Danielle aka Panther is mine.

Feedback: Please!

Summary:  The continuing adventures of Wolverine and Panther in my
"Into New Territory" saga. Mystique rekindles her interest in
Wolverine and plots a deadly game to capture him.

Archiving: please with my permission - I would like to know where it's
being saved.


"What is the matter?" Scott asked Charles.

Charles was staring into the monitor watching a news cast of a raging
fire that swept through several buildings in the lower East Side of
the Bronx.  It was devastating.  Several innocent men and women died
from smoke inhalation, despite the rescue attempts made by the X Team.
  This was the tenth major fire to occur in the last few weeks in the
New England area.

"I have such a bad feeling about this, Scott," Charles said as he
wheeled over to an illuminated map of the area.

"You think Magneto is behind these fires?" Scott asked.

"I know he is.  All of them have occurred without loss of life to any
mutants.  Only non-mutant people have died," Charles replied.

Scott watched the look of hidden anxiety cross his mentor's face.

"Pyro?" Scott asked simply.

Charles fixed his eyes on Scott.  The stern look was enough of an answer.

It had been some time since Pyro – John – had been seduced by
Magneto's beliefs of superiority.  Pyro, as a young teenager, had
wanted to be accepted and understood by his family and was instead
shunned.  His deep anger penetrated his soul to the core and he fell
prey to Magneto.  Pyro abandoned his mutant caretakers and joined
Magneto's Brotherhood of Mutants some time ago.  He had been out of
sight up until now.

"Somebody has to put that little punk's fire out," Logan snarled as he
entered the room having heard the last part of conversation that
passed between Scott and Charles.

"And, what the hell do you suppose we should do?  Go after him with a
bucket of water or a fire extinguisher?" Scott replied snidely.

"I suppose we should consider a way to capture Pyro and convince him
to stop these evil deeds," Charles said.

"How the hell are we supposed to do that?  With foul language?" Logan
scoffed.

"He's just a misguided young man.  I wouldn't write him off as a lost
cause just yet, Logan," Charles replied.

"So, how does one capture the little fireball?" Logan questioned as he
sat down near the console by Xavier's side.  The arrogant look that
crossed Logan's face didn't cause any grief to the older man.

"Logan, young men like Pyro are looking for acceptance.  John was
always that type of boy while he resided here.  He has always been an
angry youth and Magneto preyed on his desire for acceptance by
convincing him that he could be something very important.  Somehow, I
think you of all people should be able to understand that," Xavier said.

"It does sound like you, Logan," Scott said.

Logan glared angrily at the younger man.

"You still don't know a damn thing about me, Cyke, even after all this
time," Logan sternly replied.

"Logan, everyone is worth giving a chance to," Charles said.

"Hell, we gave you a chance," Scott interrupted.

"So, you think we can change his mind, huh?" Logan asked leaning close
to Charles and not even blinking an eye as he shot another angry glare
in Scott's direction.

"You know, Danielle has always had a way with the children.  John
never met her.  Maybe she could work with him," Scott suggested.  And,
it was a good suggestion, except to Logan.

"No way.  I don't want her getting in the middle of this," Logan
protectively answered.

"Maybe we should ask her opinion on the matter," Charles said ignoring
Logan's comments.

Logan slammed his fist down on the tabletop.  He was not about to
allow Danielle to get herself into any more trouble.  She had seen
enough action and the potential threat Pyro held made Logan nervous.

******

"Danielle, what do you think?" Charles asked.

"Logan didn't want me involved, did he?" Danielle asked back.

The older man shook his head affirmatively.

"I should have known.  Logan forgets I can take care of myself," she
replied.

"Logan's just worried about you," Ororo said.

"What's the plan?  Direct confrontation?" Danielle asked.

"We were thinking of letting Kurt take part in this.  His teleporting
abilities would be able to bring John back here before John even
realizes he's been taken," Charles replied.

Inside Cerebro, Charles tried to determine where Pyro might strike
again.  Since he resided with Magneto, and Magneto's fortress blocked
Xavier's attempts to mind meld with any member of the Brotherhood so
long as they were inside, Xavier remained within Cerebro while the X
Team were ready to go the moment Charles locked in on their target.

Sure enough, Pyro struck again and only a few miles from the school.
The X Team flew into action – the stealth jet flying towards its
destination.  Upon reaching the scene, Pyro was causing havoc to
another apartment building.  Cyclops and Pyro battled together
fighting each other with fire or optic blasts.  The nearby area turned
into a raging inferno and people were fleeing in all directions.
Wolverine, Rogue, and Iceman set up the rescues of those people
trapped inside the burning buildings while Cyclops kept Pyro busy.

And the plan worked.  Kurt had managed to steal way with Pyro.  He
swung the young man over his shoulder and as John began to fight for
his freedom, Kurt had teleported back to the Xavier school.

************

"John, why?" Xavier asked the young man.

"What do you care?" John replied.

Danielle entered the small room that John, Xavier, and Jean were in.

"John, this is Danielle.  She would like to talk with you," Charles
stated.

The young man looked away not wanting to listen.  Jean, Scott and
Charles left the room for the Combat Room.  There, Charles turned on
the security monitor and watched Danielle and Pyro interact.

"John, we could do this the easy way or..." Danielle started.

John looked in her direction.

"Or what?" he snidely asked.

Danielle's eyes turned golden yellow as she raised a clenched fist and
popped her claws.  She growled softly – the rumbling sound
reverberated in the small room.  John crossed his arms over his chest
and sat back in his chair.

"So, what's your story?" John asked snidely.

"Would it matter to you?" Danielle asked back.

John shrugged his shoulders.

Logan sauntered into the Combat Room and leaned over Xavier's
shoulder.  He was rather annoyed that Charles had invited Danielle to
be a part of this and was further angered seeing her alone with the
dangerous young man.

"What the hell," Logan snorted as he started for the door.  His fury
began to fly as well as a deep fear for Danielle's well being.  Jean
stopped him before he could exit the room.

"Logan, Danielle is working with John.  Let her be," Jean pleaded.

Logan growled before allowing himself to be led back to watch the
happenings on the monitor.

"So, why all the anger?" Danielle asked.

John shot Danielle a stern glare.

"What anger?  Being pissed at the world?" John snidely replied.

"You think you are something really special, don't you?" Danielle
asked trying to provoke deeper responses from John.

He did respond.  Standing up, John flicked open his cigarette lighter.
  He cupped the flame in his hand and played with it like a toy.  John
looked up at Danielle.

  "I don't know.  Not like anyone really gave a damn about me," John
said.  "Not like you give a damn about me!  You just want to stop me
from being something important!"

John hurled the fireball at Danielle.  Her cat like reflexes allowed
her to avoid the attack.  She glanced over her shoulder as the
fireball hit the metal wall and was extinguished.

"You think violence is the way to make people like you?" she taunted.

"It certainly gets ya noticed," he replied.

"Not much of a reason," she responded.

"Why do you care?  What does it matter to you?  What do them regular
people matter when we mutants are the ones that are the future of the
human race?" John attacked.

"Now, yer soundin' like Magneto.  And, what everyone fails to realize
is that all life is important – no matter what the differences.  You
cannot extinguish one race just because it is different," she began.
"It is like the natural world.  Humans have indeed failed to
understand the big picture.  I will agree with you on that.  But, you
cannot eliminate them just because.  It isn't a good enough reason,"
Danielle added.

"It's good enough for me," John started to reply.  "People have been
shitting on each other for centuries.  Why should things be different
now?"

"Because we should be evolved enough to see the failures of the past
and learn from the mistakes.  We have an opportunity to make changes,"
she retorted.

"No one does.  It is such a damned selfish world and shit, man, I
ain't seeing a reason to not think about only myself," John said.

"Then, you are no different than any of them," she said.

"I am different!  That's the whole point!" John flared.

He lunged for Danielle and she defended herself with a well-placed
foot to his midsection.  Logan watched wanting to go protect her, but
Scott made him stay put.

John regained his breath and lunged for Danielle again.  This time,
the young man got her down onto her back and pinned her down.  She
didn't fight.  She just stayed still.

"What's wrong?  Realize I am indeed better than you?" John snorted.

"You are just a young punk with no sense," she replied strongly.

John raised his hand to strike her, but her clawed fist blocked his
attempt.

"Don't, John.  You won't win," she replied.

John pushed himself off of her and walked over to the wall.  Danielle
got to her feet and brushed herself off.  A knock at the door was
heard and Danielle opened it.  Rogue stood on the other side with
young Jean Marie in her arms.

"What the hell is Marie doing?  Man, don't any of you people have any
sense?" Logan snarled angrily.

"Logan, please relax.  This is all supervised and we will intervene if
need be," Charles replied.

"I think she needs you.  I don't know where Logan is," Rogue said as
she placed the youngster in Danielle's arms.

As Rogue closed the door, Danielle sat down in the chair as her year
old child held on to her strongly.

"She said Logan.  That kid is Wolverine's?" John asked.

"Me and Logan, yes.  This is Jean Marie," Danielle said.

John slowly walked over to the child and kneeled down.  Jean Marie
smiled widely at John.

"She's cute.  Didn't think that Hairball was into kids.  He hated all
of us so much," John said.

"Logan's changed, too.  He's realized there's more to life than just
himself," she replied.

John looked at Danielle then to the child.  Instantly, Jean Marie
reached her little hand towards him and grasped his finger.

"This is what it is all about, John.  We can make it a better world
for the next generation.  But, we all have to work at it together,"
Danielle said.

"Magneto has failed to realize he has a special ability to make things
better for everyone, and he has convinced ya that the only way to do
it is to make everyone like himself or even worse, to kill those not
like him.  That makes him no different than those who ordered his
family put to death just because they were Jewish," Danielle said.

John closed his eyes.  Something was sinking in – a realization of sorts.

"Ya know I am right.  If we continue this crazy ass fightin', what are
we teachin' the little ones?" Danielle asked.

John knelt down by Danielle's side and looked into Jean Marie's
innocent face.

"Why did my parents have to hate me so much?" John asked.

"I don't think they hate ya.  They, like so many others, just don't
understand.  The human race has always feared what it doesn't
understand," Danielle replied softly.

It took some time, but John really opened up to Danielle.  She worked
with him gaining his trust and their talks became like therapy
sessions for John.  He still felt a burning anger inside and a longing
to be really accepted – something he thought he had with Magneto.  He
began to realize how Magneto was simply using him – using his hate to
cause harm to non-mutants.

**********

"What's wrong, Logan?" Danielle asked as they walked together in the
courtyard.

"Nothing," he grunted.

"Don't be laying that shit on me, man," she replied while tightly
grasping his arm.

Logan looked into her eyes.  Her stern glare penetrated his soul.

"I guess I am feelin'...I don't know," he said.

"Ya feelin' what?" she probed.

"Seein' ya work with that kid, I guess I started thinkin' about what
kinda kid I musta been," he said.

Danielle's hand ran up to his shoulder.

"I know ya don't remember and I can't say I understand what that
emptiness feels like," she said softly.  "But, someday those memories
might come back and then again, maybe they never will.  Ya got a whole
slew of new ones and tons more to make in the future," Danielle said
to comfort him.

"Yer right.  Guess I started feelin' a little sorry fer myself," Logan
said.

"It's understandable.  Come on.  It's time to get Jean Marie so Rogue
can do some studying," Danielle said taking Logan's hand.

**************

Mystique infiltrated the Xavier School disguising herself as a female
student.  She captured the attention of John and learned why he didn't
return to the Brotherhood.  This information was reported back to Magneto.

In the meantime, Mystique saw Wolverine.  She remembered her interest
in him and seeing him again ignited the fires of desire.
There were times she hated him for hurting her – actually, almost
killing her.  She tried seducing him offering to be any woman Logan
desired.  He refused and she never forgot.

Although it had been some time, she began wondering if Pyro should be
forgotten now and Wolverine targeted.  He would make a much more
powerful ally to the Brotherhood, and it wasn't as if Wolverine had
any really strong bonds to the School – so Mystique thought.  Deep in
his heart, Wolverine was still a loner and still someone she wanted
for herself.

Title: Twisted

Author: Orli

Rating: PG-13, eh...sure.

A/N: Got part of the idea from another story I read a couple of years ago. It
was a Rogan, and it had a twisted ending like this one. Don’t worry if you get
confused. I want you to be. Somewhere around the middle. It all clears up at the
ending. Thanks to Tatiana(test subject), Radha(test subject, editor),
Chiang(test subject) and Jo-Anne(editor) for the help and input. Send feedback,
please. Archived at my site (mutie.net/orli) and ff.net. Want to archive? Then
e-mail me (orli@...). I don’t own the X-Men. This is a one-shot.

Sunday, 01 February 2004 – Wednesday, 04 February 2004

“We can’t keep doing it like this,” he told her, staring at her intently and
leaning against the wall next to the door he’d so silently entered as she sat
crossed legged in her bed, pretending to be doing the work in her lap. Her face
was hidden to his eyes as she was seated leaning forward, hair falling over her
shoulders, and he couldn’t tell if she had acknowledged what he had just said or
not. When she didn’t answer, he narrowed his eyes and repeated louder, “We can’t
keep doing it like this, Marie.”

She kept her head down, still not looking at him, still not showing any signs of
hearing him.

“Yes, we can,” she replied when she bothered to answer him, though still not
looking up. When he pushed himself from the door and made his way to the front
edge of her bed, she finally looked up and met his gaze. “We can. We have to, or
we can’t do this at all.”

He narrowed his eyes again, not wanting to accept those as the terms. Did he not
have any say in this? But he dropped it anyway. He had not the will to fight her
on this, knowing that she wouldn’t change her mind now even if they argued. They
had had this argument times before. He didn’t want to have it again. She looked
back down, knowing exactly what he was feeling, and returned to her work. He
watched her for while, thinking—thinking of a way he could maybe change her mind
later. He sighed when nothing surfaced, and left.

She didn’t trouble trying to stop him, knowing he would always come back to her,
knowing he would always come back to her when she wanted him to. She put away
the work she had never actually been working on and laid back on her bed,
wishing—wishing she had the fortitude to be more like him. To stop this and take
it further, but she wasn’t like John, and even though he’d been imprinted in her
mind a couple of months ago at Bobby’s house, she still hadn’t gotten that from
him. She knew he hated how limited their relationship was, but she had long ago
become desensitized to any feelings of guilt. She knew this was how it would
have to be. At least for a while. She’d maybe consider it, not anytime soon, but
she’d think about it later. For him.

~~

He’d come back later, when he wanted to return, and lay down with her, holding
her as she rested in bed, not yet sleeping, stroking her hair, kissing her neck,
and they’d talk. He’d try not to bring it back up, to talk about it, but it was
getting harder for him not to. He had succumbed for so long, and he understood
that she felt uncomfortable with the idea, but he knew it could work. He knew
her well enough, and he knew himself well enough to know that it could work if
only she’d give it a chance. He wasn’t like her, he could not ignore these types
of things, he couldn’t put them off as insignificant like she could. He didn’t
want to.

The next morning, he’d wake up next to her, having fallen asleep at her side.
He’d observe her as she slept, wishing she would drop the barriers she’d placed
around their relationship. He wanted more than this. They were lucky she had her
own room. If she’d had a roommate, they wouldn’t even have the luxury of using
her room to acknowledge each other. But he rolled over onto his back frustrated
anyway that they’d have to start back up as soon as they left the room.

He’d find a way though. He’d find a way to make it work.

~~

She woke slowly to find herself alone in her bed, wanting him to come back, but
knowing he would have to leave again as soon as he came. Classes would start
soon, and it wouldn’t be possible for them to leave her room and walk together
to classes. And it probably never would be. Not that she would tell him that.
Not that he didn’t know. He wanted so much for her to change her mind, but she
didn’t think she could, and deep down she knew she wouldn’t.

She walked to class by herself, thinking about John, and how it probably wasn’t
all that fair for her to ignore what he wanted. It had been all about her from
the beginning, and at first, he had been okay with it. She didn’t really
understand why he wanted to change everything anyway, why he wanted to
complicate things. They were fine the way they were now.

Bobby and John appeared together, talking, coming towards her down the hallway
as she neared the class. Bobby gave her an acknowledging nod, John had not
noticed her, and she responded with a small smile that Bobby didn’t catch. He
had already looked away, pulled back into with the conversation he and John were
having. She let a frown replace her smile and tried to ignore the feeling in her
chest as she watched them enter the room. She had long ago gotten over caring
that this was how it had to be outside their privacy. She’d gotten used to it,
but every once in a while she felt what he felt…

In class, she took an available seat next to another student and watched as
Jubilee took the seat next to John, all the time smiling at him strangely. He
smiled back, and the feeling in her chest came back. This was how it went, she
knew that, but she wondered angrily why she was feeling these feelings that
belonged to him. Maybe he was trying to make a point. Show her how it felt to
have her feelings ignored. She rolled her eyes, pissed, and turned away. She
knew how to ignore this kind of stuff. She knew how to do it well. She could
ignore him for as long as it took.

So she did. She waited throughout the entire class, paying attention only to
Jean, blocking him out, and when class was over, she left, without casting a
glance towards them. She walked by herself again, and he caught her and pulled
her away. Away where they were alone. She glared at him, not wanting anything to
do with him right now. Not after that little stunt. He looked down at her, his
hand on her shoulder, guilt on his face, wanting to explain, wanting to talk
about it again. Change it.

“What are you trying to do? I said no! Keep your thoughts—” she demanded
irately. He knew why she couldn’t do it, why it wouldn’t work. She knew he
understood.

“I do understand! … Why don’t you? Why don’t you even consider it? Just walk
over to me—” he yelled, cutting her off, knowing what she had been thinking and
angry that that had been all she was thinking. Not even thinking of how he felt.
He stopped talking frustrated, wondering if he would ever win this fight. If
this was how it would be forever, he didn't want to do it. He didn't see the
point in it. He couldn’t just sit there and be okay with the way they were when
he knew she could change it. When he knew that he’d do it.

“I said I’d try. Just not now!” she told him. He could tell she didn’t want to,
and that made him angrier. She knew she wouldn’t try. She wouldn’t try for him.
He dropped his hand from her shoulder and stepped back from her. He didn’t know
what to say. He didn’t know what would get through to her. He couldn’t break up
with her. He couldn’t. He’d only be going backwards. He didn’t want to, and he
knew as well as she that that he could never leave her, that he would always
come back to her.

He looked to his left apprehensively, eyebrows furrowed and left. She stayed
right there leaning against the wall, staring straight ahead. He’d be back; she
knew that… whenever she wanted him to…

“Rogue?” Bobby called suddenly showing up as he turned the corner. She stood up
straight, startled, not knowing where he’d come from but suddenly glad John had
left. She tried to relax her tensed arms wrapped around her books against her
chest, and looked up at him expectantly. He raised an eyebrow, looking at her
strangely. He had no idea why she was hiding around the corner. She looked
nervous to him, uneasy and trying to hide it. He never did actually understand
her.

“You okay?” he asked. She nodded and walked away back towards classes. She
didn’t like the nature of what had just happened. She hated when they almost got
caught. She didn’t like slipping.

~~

She didn’t let it happen again. For a week, she avoided him totally when they
weren’t alone. For a week, she ignored him. For a week, Jubilee sat next to him.
He was seated on the edge of her bed not facing her, staring at the door. She
sat on her bed facing his back, staring at him. She knew how he felt. He knew
how she felt. It didn’t matter. It didn’t change anything. Except he barely
spoke to her now, and she knew now that even if she could always make him come
back to her when she wanted to, his heart wouldn’t always come with him.

He wasn’t happy, and that changed everything now. It had always only been an
annoying topic she’d always been able to swat away in the past. Now it was
tearing him away from her, and she didn’t know what to do. She didn’t want what
he wanted, but she wanted him.

“John?” she called out. He didn’t move, look up, show any sign of hearing her.
He was bent over, his elbows resting on his knees, his eyes blank of any
emotion. She inched closer, yet not close enough to touch him and watched as his
back barely rose and fell as he breathed. She didn’t want to lose him. She tried
again, raising her voice higher. “John. I’ll try… I promise.”

He didn’t move, turn around, show any signs of acknowledging her, and though she
couldn’t see it, there was something in his eyes. She slid off the bed and
walked to the front of it, eyeing the door to make sure it was locked before
turning and dropping to her knees on the ground in front of him. He averted his
eyes to meet her gaze. Her guilt had finally broken through the wall she had
built up, and she didn’t care. She didn’t care if it meant she could keep him.
She moved his arms and laid her head on his knee. He stared down at her, knowing
that she meant it this time and smiled.

~~

She’d awake the next day, and he wouldn’t be gone. He’d be right there next to
her, and she hadn’t remembered him being there when she woke up for so long
because she hadn’t woken in the mornings with him there since they’d first
gotten together. She’d moved closer by instinct, wanting to be closer to him,
wanting to feel the heat of his body, wanting to smell his scent. And she’d
remember that yesterday she told him that she’d try. She wasn’t sure how it
would work, or even if she wanted it to work. She didn’t know. She had never
dreamed of change. Never expected it. But she’d try for him.

He’d stir from her movement and wake soon after, and he’d remembered what she’d
said last night, and his smile would be contagious. And that alone helped her
make her decision.

Later, after he’d leave, she’d walk down the hallway thinking about what she
could do to start changing things. She refused to be rash. She wanted to start
slow. It was the only way it’d work. It was the only way to not confuse him. And
he’d promised to help her.

So, she sat next to him in class and smiled and said hi, and he smiled back,
“Hey, Rogue.” Rogue. He’d always call her Marie when they were together. It made
sense that he’d call her Rogue now. She smiled again, and when he didn’t say
anything else, she didn’t know what to do, so she said nothing, too, and the
rest of the students were still coming in the classroom. It was like she didn’t
know him, and she didn’t. Not now. Not here. She didn’t him, and he didn’t know
her. They’d never done this before, and it was unnerving. Though he seemed to be
fine. He wasn’t helping her yet, and she was wishing he would.

And when Jubilee walked in, she saw that the seat next to John wasn’t empty like
it usually was for her. She looked confused and wasn’t smiling like she usually
did. So she sat next to Bobby instead and decided to think nothing of it. Boys
were like that. Like rubber bands, she remembered. But when John turned around
and smiled at her, the smile found it’s way back to Jubilee’s face and he stayed
turned around, and he and Jubilee talked until class started. It wasn’t until
after class when he and Jubilee instantly drew back together that Rogue realized
she’d made some mistakes. That it wouldn’t be as easy as he said it would, and
that she’d waited too long.

And she swallowed and withdrew into herself where it was safe. Where she wanted
to be. Where she wanted him. Pretending that she was listening to Scott as he
taught, but all the time thinking of how she’d been right all along. How he’d
been wrong. How he’d hurt her. She’d known that it would’ve never work. She knew
that there’d always be something in the way. Something to stop them. But she’d
always figured it’d be their differences mainly, but it turned out to be another
girl.

She rushed out of the classroom, the first one out the door and ran for her
room. Hating him. Hating herself. Knowing she should have listened to herself,
not him. And he caught her like he always did, apologetic like always. Guilt on
his face. He knew he’d made a mistake, and he didn’t know how to fix it. He
didn’t think that would’ve happened. And he hadn’t helped her like he said he
would. And now she was crying.

“Marie? I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was going to happen like that? I thought I
was—” he was too confused. Why he hadn’t seen it coming, he didn’t know. He just
didn’t know. He’d been so wrapped up in himself. In her. That he hadn’t noticed.
He looked at Marie, narrowing his eyes to keep the wetness from becoming more
than wetness. It had been his idea. He’d wanted things to change. He’d hurt her,
and he hadn’t seen it coming. Now he was lost.

“I don’t care,” she proclaimed quietly, not looking him in the eye. Not wanting
to look at him. It could have been fine. Everything could have been fine if he
had only let it go. Listened to her instead of arguing. She didn’t know what
they were supposed to do after this. She couldn’t go along with it now. It
wouldn’t work. She’d only wanted him, and he’d wanted more. Now she was lost.

He pulled her to his chest and let her sob quietly into his shirt. He didn’t
understand how he’d screwed everything up. She’d never try again now. She’d
never listen to him again. He’d never get what he wanted. He closed his eyes and
rested his head atop hers. They’d have to stay like this. He realized that, and
he’d take it. He’d stay with her. He’d always stay with her when she wanted him
to. She froze in his arms suddenly and pushed him away. “Go!” she demanded, and
he left. She stood there wiping her tears away, trying to make herself look as
normal as she could without a bathroom, and then leaned back against the wall
casually.

“Rogue? What do you do over here?” Bobby asked as he came upon her again. She
looked at him apathetically and shrugged. He couldn’t figure why he’d always see
her disappear around the corner between classes. Dorms were the other way. It
didn’t make sense. He examined her hard, and it looked as if she’d maybe been
crying. She noticed and looked down as inconspicuously as she could, letting her
hair fall over her shoulders to cover her face. She didn’t want him to notice.
He wanted to know what was really going on with her. She’d been withdrawn since
Stryker’s attack on the mansion. “Rogue, you sure you okay?”

She nodded, but he didn’t see. John had come to see whom he’d been talking to.
He saw her, and she looked away before he could say hi again. “What’s going on?
You two coming to class?” She nodded and looked up at Bobby through her hair as
best she could with her head still down. She didn’t want to talk to him. She
didn’t want to talk to Bobby. She just wanted to get classes over with, and
leave. Bobby gave her one last perusal before answering.

“Yeah, we’re coming. Come on, Rogue,” he said, and draped an arm around her
shoulder to pull her along. He hadn’t wanted to leave without her. She didn’t
seem like she’d have been okay by herself. He wanted to be sure. And in class,
he made her sit next to him, and he tried to talk to her. Try to make her feel
better. She shrugged in response to most of his questions, but that was okay
with him because at least she was answering. At least, he was getting to her.
She couldn’t get herself to talk. Not even if it was Bobby, who’d only ever
tried to help her. Nothing Bobby could say could change what had happened.
Nothing he could say could change anything. She tried to respond to all his
questions and tried to smile at all his comments, but she only wanted to get out
here. To be alone. With him.

She wanted him to come back to her.

~~

Later, they’d be sitting in the library. At their own little table. She’d be
pretending to be doing her work, and he’d be pretending not to watch her. They
wouldn’t be talking; she wouldn’t want to do any talking. They’d agreed to
disregard everything that had happened, and go back to the way they’d been
before. Before he’d hurt her. Before she’d made her mistakes. He would have
finally figured out how to ignore those types of things, he could put them off
as insignificant like she could. But he didn’t want to, and he’d already begun
thinking—thinking about how he could make it better. How he could possibly. Make
it work. Make it change. Plan it out better. This was something he wasn’t ready
to give up on, but he’d leave it alone for a while. For her. And she’d been
comforted by the fact that she still had him, and that he would drop it. That he
understood she just wanted him. That he’d come back to her when she wanted him
to. And she didn’t mind their leaving her bedroom together
  anymor e.

They’d be pretending not to notice that they sat across the library from them at
their own little table, and they’d pretend to not notice them arguing loudly.
Jubilee would get up from the table and leave, anger contorting her face, taking
her stuff with her, so as not to have to come back, and John would glare after
her, not willing to get up and chase after her, knowing that he’d been right.

He'd turn around and look at John, sitting angrily at his table, and then look
back at her from across the table, and she'd look at him, knowing what he was
thinking and shake her head. He thought this would be a great chance, a better
chance for her to try to take it further. Take them further. "No, John. I won't
do it again. I won't." He'd sigh frustrated, wishing that just now, everything
could work out for the them, but not wanting to have him hurt her again. He
thought that they'd be the same, he and John, but John had only proved him
wrong. He didn't think the same things John did. They weren't the same person
anymore, that John hadn't been there for the last three months, and he could not
grasp that easily. He looked back at John once more and responded quietly, "I
just don't want you to lose me."

She looked past him to the real John, who was pretending to be doing his work,
tapping his pencil forcefully, irately on the table, and looked back at her John
sitting across the table, guilt still lingering in his _expression-the John she
really knew; the one who wanted her to have the real John, who was sitting
across the library oblivious to them as he had always been, to make what they
had, their relationship, seem even more real; the one who was imprinted and
spent the past three months sharing her mind with her; the one only she could
see. The one she loved, who she knew would always come back to her, who she knew
would always come back to her when she wanted him to.

And she replied smiling, “I won’t.”



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

Hello all,
After reading the instructions on how to post a story on XMMFF I
decided to devote one whole message to notes. Not that I have a lot but
it'll make it easier on me when I'm trying to keep track of sections
posted.  I'm posting the 'notes' section and Part One.  If they are too
hard to read, let me know and I can reformat. Any comments, questions,
money, job offers, chocolate, etc....can be sent to e-mail addy located
just below. Thanks!

Amy D.
MizDenton@...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Title: Oh, The Irony
Author: Amy Denton
Summary: What if...? Bobby 'The Iceman' Drake is betrayed by another
student at The Xavier School and nearly pays with his life.
Rating: PG-13. Some mild violence at the end of the story.
Archive: Yes, please. Just tell me where it's going.

Notes: This is a story that came from an image of Bobby walking down a
road in the middle of nowhere in the middle of December. It grew from
that. All the medical information contained in this story has come from
the websites I will list at the end of the story. The portable oxygen
machine Jean uses in this story is a real machine used by the U.S.
Coast Guard and search and rescue groups. It's called a RES-Q-AIR
(Model 1000). The information on the machine will be listed at the end
of the story as well. (I don't want y'all to know what happens before
you read the story. ;-)

Acknowledgements: I want to thank my beta reader Sunshine for reading
and asking 'What happens next?' I also want to thank my second beta
reader Julie for making sure I hadn't wandered from the plot too much.
And, finally, I want to thank Stan Lee for creating The X-Men and Brian
Singer and everyone connected with the movies for giving us a such a
great world to play in.

Disclaimer: The characters mentioned herein, with the exception of
Micah Wislow and Jonathan, belong to Marvel Productions and this story
in no way is an attempt to infringe on the copyright. This is story is
written for the enjoyment of the fans. I will return the characters
once I'm done with them. (Although, with Scott, I'd have to think about
returning him. ;-) I'm poor, please don't sue me.

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

Title: Oh, The Irony
Author: Amy Denton
Summary: What if...? Bobby 'The Iceman' Drake is betrayed by another
student at The Xavier School and nearly pays with his life.
Rating: PG-13. Some mild violence at the end of the story.
Archive: Yes, please. Just tell me where it's going.
For disclaimer information and notes on the story, please see Part 0.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

	 It was the easiest thing in the world to say 'Sure, no problem' but by
saying that Bobby Drake bought more trouble than he ever thought
possible.
	 "Where you going?" Rogue asked Bobby when she saw him pulling on a
jacket and hat.
	 "Gonna run into New Salem and pick up the newest comic books for one
of the newer kids." Bobby replied.
	 "Using what for transportation?"
	 "Cook is going to visit her sister in Croton-on-the-Hudson and she's
going to drop me in town. I'll call for a lift back." Bobby kissed
Rogue on the cheek and headed for the kitchen.

												 ************************

	 Night fell and with it the temperature. But Bobby had yet to call
asking for a ride back. Rogue did her best not to worry but with dinner
rapidly approaching and no Bobby,she could stand it no longer. She left
the other students watching tv and went to find Professor Xavier. There
was this nagging feeling deep in the pit of her stomach. Bobby was in
trouble and needed help.
	 "Professor Xavier?" Rogue asked, finding him in the library.
	 "Yes, Rogue?" Professor Xavier, looking all for the world likes
someone's grandfather,  paused in his reading.
	 "Bobby hasn't come back yet and it's getting dark."
	 "When did he leave?"
	 "Around three, he should've been back by now." Rogue opened her mind
up completely so that the Professor could understand how deeply worried
she was.
	 "Do you think he's in trouble?"
	 Rogue nodded. "I can't shake the feeling that something's gone really
wrong."
	 "All right. I'll go look for him. You wait here and when I find him,
I'll send for you." Professor Xavier rolled away, headed for the one
place that could tell him exactly where Bobby was.

											 *******************************

	 Professor Xavier did not send for Rogue when he found Bobby, he sent
for the other adults, the X-Men, at the school, instead. Rogue watched
as one by one Scott, Storm, Jean and, finally, Logan disappeared and
then, the rumble of the X-Jet's engines could be heard. Rogue appetite
vanished and she left the dinning room without touching dinner.
	 Professor Xavier had located Bobby 75 miles to the north on an
abandoned farm, whether in the barn, one of the outbuildings or even
the old  farmhouse, Bobby's mutant signature simply wasn't strong
enough to pinpoint exactly where.
	 Upon landing, the four adults split up to search the abandoned barn
and outbuildings. Jean and Logan headed for the barn while Scott and
Storm headed towards the smaller outbuildings. The temperature, already
in the mid-30's and dropping quickly, made finding Bobby as quickly as
possible all the more urgent.
	 The dilapidated barn still clung to its basic form even as it fought a
losing battle with gravity. The first casualty, the sagging overhead
hay loft that once had been used to feed the animals stabled in the six
stalls the barn held. A wide aisle, wide enough for a large cart and a
team of horses separated the stalls with three on each side of the
aisle. Towards the front of the barn, a short hallway leading to what
had been a small tack room branched off from the first stall on the
left. In its time, the barn had probably held all manner of beasts from
horses to oxen and then some.  Now, all it held was the faint smell of
old hay and decaying wood and, possibly, the object of their search.
	 "Bobby!" Jean shouted into the darkness, her words coming out as steam
in the frigid night air. Silence was her answer. She flipped on her
flashlight and flashed it around the empty barn but saw nothing. She
closed her eyes for a moment in an attempt to find him psychically but
nothing leapt out at her.
	 "I'll go look in the tackroom." she said to Logan. "You start on the
stables then we'll meet and decided what to do next if he's not here."
	 Logan nodded then looked up at the hay loft. "You think he might be up
there?" he asked.
	 Jean looked up and focused the flashlight on it. She shook her head
and said "I think if he was, we'd know already. It's too rickety."
	 They split up and started looking, neither saying what each was
thinking. What if Bobby wasn't there? What if they didn't find him?
What then?
	 Logan sniffed the air, trying to pick up Bobby's scent. At first, his
nostrils filled with the smell of musty old barn, old hay, rotting
wood. He concentrated and shifted through the scents. Bobby had to be
in the barn.  If Bobby wasn't, what would he tell Rogue?
	 There.
	 Very faint but the scent of a male human drifted towards Logan's keen
nose. He flipped on his flashlight and let his nose lead him. In the
very last stall, at the opposite end from where he started, Logan held
his breath and poked the flashlight in.
	 His nose had not failed him, illuminated by the beam lay Bobby, curled
up into a ball.
	 "Jean!" he bellowed, crossing the stall in three steps. He knelt down
by Bobby, pulled off his gloves and checked for a nonexistent pulse.
	 *Damn, damn, damn.*
	 "C'mon, Ice Pop," he muttered at Bobby, uncurling the teen's stiff
body. "yer supposed to freeze other stuff, not yerself." He turned to
yell for Jean again but she was already at his side.
	 She set down the First-Aid bag she carried, tugged off her gloves and
checked for a pulse before Logan could tell her there wasn't one. But
instead of checking at the jugular, like he had, Jean checked Bobby's
pulse at his wrist.
	 "Um...Jean," Logan started to say but was waved off by her.
	 "Open the First-Aid bag, take out the blankets and start wrapping him
up." Jean said, her fingers still on Bobby's limp wrist.
	 "Jean, I checked, he's got no pulse." Logan said.
	 "Logan, just do what I ask. I'll explain in a moment." Jean replied.
	 Logan shrugged and reached for the First-Aid bag. He looked up a
moment later and was startled to see a smile on Jean's face.
	 "Jean, what..." Logan started again but was interrupted by Jean.
	 "Bear with me for a few more moments." Jean said. She tinkered with a
portable oxygen machine for a moment, pouring water from bottle into a
holding container on the machine. She slipped  an oxygen mask over
Bobby's nose and mouth, and flipped a switch, the machine coming to
life with a low hum. She shined a light into Bobby's eyes, then pulled
a thermometer out of the First-Aid bag and slid it into his ear.
	 Logan, finished wrapping Bobby up, sat back on his heels and said
"Jean?"
	 Jean looked up from the thermometer and said "He's not dead, Logan,
he's got hypothermia."

												 ***************************

	 //Scott, we've found Bobby in the barn. Go get the stretcher from the
jet.// Jean sent a mental message to Scott, who relayed the message to
Storm. And by the time Scott made it to the barn, Storm had warmed the
stall up considerably. He set the stretcher down next to Bobby and
tried not to think of how still the teenager was.
	 //Relax. Bobby should be just fine once he gets warmed up.// Jean told
him through their mindlink.
	 "How long do you think he's been here?" Scott asked.
	 "Two hours, maybe three." Jean replied.  "Not that long."
	 "But long enough," Logan said.
	 "Not really but that doesn't matter now that we're here." Jean
replied. "Logan, help me put him in the stretcher. The moment he's
stable enough to be moved, I want to go but be very gentle. If he's
jostled too much, it could kill him."
	 Logan's eyes widened for a moment before picking up the teenager.
After Bobby was settled and the blankets wrapped around him, Jean took
his temperature again.
	 "Getting there," she said. She looked up and around at the blank faces
surrounding her and knew it was time for a mini-lesson on human
physiology.
	 "When the human body gets really cold, all the blood is shunted to the
major organs, heart, lungs, etc. to keep them going until the body can
warm up again. As the body warms up, the cold blood that had been down
in the legs and arms starts to recirculate and rewarm but it's still
cold. If the person gets moved too suddenly or too soon, the cold blood
gets dumped into the heart, shocking it out of its regular beat and
usually causing a heart attack. The longer we wait, the higher Bobby's
temperature goes and the better it is for him. A lot of  the time,
there isn't a choice to wait but thanks to Storm, we can."
	 Storm smiled to show she had heard but remained focused on her task.
	 Jean, her lesson done, checked Bobby's pulse and rearranged the
blankets around him. "Any questions?" she asked.
	 "How'd this happen?" Logan asked. "How'd he wind up out here?"
	 "I don't know." Jean replied. "But when he wakes up, we can ask him."
	 Scott, quiet until then, voiced the unspoken thought among them. "He
might have been grabbed by someone like Stryker but was able to escape.
Whoever it was, they might still be lurking around. I know I'm stating
the obvious but we need to get out of here as soon as possible. The
longer we stay, the bigger a target we become."
	 Jean nodded but said "I'd like to keep from moving Bobby for another
half-an-hour, if possible. After then, we'll just have to take the
chance."
	 Scott nodded. He looked at Logan and said "Come on, between the two of
us, we can set up a decent perimeter."
	 Logan nodded and left with Scott.

												 **************************

	 Rogue paced the hallway in front of the hanger doors. She knew that
the longer the rest of the team were gone, the lesser the chance they
had of finding Bobby alive and her throat tightened at the very
thought. The first boy she had actually been able to kiss without
almost killing him and now, he could be dead. Tears sprang into her
eyes but she blinked them away.
	 She also knew why she hadn't been allowed to go with the others. Being
so emotionally attached to Bobby would only be a liability if he was
being held hostage. She knew that the others would not stop searching
until they found Bobby and that if he was hurt, Jean would do all she
could to save him but all that knowledge didn't make the waiting any
easier.
	 She paced and waited and paced and waited. The Danger Room was just
down the hallway. She could always go in there and work off some of the
nervous energy but Scott had warned her and Bobby that they weren't to
go in there unless they had an adult with them.
	 She sat down on the cold tile floor and rested her head on her knees,
her gloved hands clenched in front of her. This wasn't like all the
other times when she had accidentally touched someone. Then, she could
console herself with the knowledge that it was a mistake and remember
not to do it again, she had no such knowledge this time. Bobby was
probably dead and she would never have a chance to say 'Good-bye'.
	 That time, the tears came before she could stop them.
	 Professor Xavier needn't have been a telepath to locate Rogue. All he
had to do was follow the sounds of her sobs. He rolled down the hallway
and stopped in front of her. He didn't like seeing his students in pain
but, with teenagers, pain was a part of every day life.
	 "Marie?" he asked, softly.
	 She looked up at Professor Xavier and tried to stop her tears but
couldn't. He took a handkerchief from his coat pocket and handed it to
her. She took it and dabbed at her eyes.
	 "I'm sorry I'm such a mess." she mumbled, looking down at the floor.
	 "Marie, there is a big difference between 'being a mess' and being
worried about someone." Professor Xavier said to her. "I worry about
all of my students all the time. Made all my hair fall out."
	 Rogue looked up at the Professor's joke and almost smiled. "Thank you,
Professor Xavier."


												 ************************

	 Fifteen minutes later, the rumbling of the X-Jet's engines echoed
through the mostly empty lower hallways of the mansion.  Rogue stood up
and looked toward the hanger doors expectantly. Professor Xavier,
having already sent a message to Jean about Rogue, waited next to her.
The hanger doors opened and Logan walked through alone, the doors
sliding shut behind him.
	 Rogue's eyes bounced from the grim look on Logan's face to the neutral
one on Professor Xavier's and new tears flowed down her cheeks. Logan
pulled her into his arms and started talking quietly to her, his body
blocking her view of the hanger doors. The doors opened again and
Professor Xavier watched Jean and Scott carry Bobby into the Med-Lab.
	 //How's Rogue?// Jean mentally asked Professor Xavier.
	 //She's quite unhappy. That was very wise to have Logan come out
first.// Professor Xavier replied.
	 //That was Logan's idea.// Jean replied. //He knew how upset she would
be.//
	 Professor Xavier looked up at Logan and nearly smiled. Despite his
claims to the contrary, Logan had a big heart and truly cared for
Rogue. He tried to do his best by her.
	 //When can Rogue see him?//
	 //Not for a couple of hours at least. I need to get his temperature
up. Seeing him like this would only upset her further.//
	 //Understood.//
	 Professor Xavier cleared his throat and eyed Logan. Without a word,
Logan picked up on the Professor's train of thought.
	 "Rogue, darlin', I know you want to see Bobby right now but ..." Logan
started.
	 "I'd just get in the way." Rogue said, her voice muffled by Logan's
bulk. She looked up at him. "I'm not stupid, Logan. I just want to know
if he's okay."
	 "He'll be fine." Logan told her, praying that he was right.


												 *****************************

	 Due to the lateness of the hour, Jean was more than surprised to have
the doors of the Med-Lab open and admit twelve-year old Micah Winslow,
one of the newer students, dressed for bed. He paused in the doorway,
then walked very slowly into the room as if he expected to be chased
out at any minutes.
	 "Micah? Is there something wrong?" Jean asked him.
	 He jumped guiltily at the sound of  her voice and turned to look at
her. "I came to see Bobby, Dr. Gray."
	 Jean stood and came around her desk to block Micah's view of Bobby.
"Bobby's asleep. You should be too."
	 Micah gnawed at his lower lip but did not speak. He had taken an
instant liking to Bobby, following the older boy around the school and
pestering him about anything. Bobby, amused by the attention and having
gone through hero worship once already with his younger brother, took
Micah under his wing, so to speak. Micah reveled in the attention and
had really started to come out of his shell. Now, it seemed as if he
was retreating back into himself, holding himself away from Bobby, to
protect himself from any pain that might happen if Bobby did not
recover.
	 Jean bent down in front of him and said "Micah, when you start dozing
in Ms. Munroe's class tomorrow, don't expect an excuse from me."
	 "Is he going to be okay?"
	 "He'll be fine. Now, you need to go back to bed before Logan wonders
where you've gone to."
	 "He's already checked on us, he won't be back for another 15 minutes."
Micah told her.
	 *Well, well, well. I'll have to let Logan know that the children are
paying more attention to him than he thinks.*
	 "Micah, you need to go back to bed. Now."
	 He looked down at the floor, turned and walked back toward the door.
He stopped and looked at Jean over his shoulder, looking like he wanted
to say something but couldn't. He left as quietly as he came.
	 Jean shook her head and rubbed her eyes. Most of the children came to
the school with such unbelievable baggage, abandonment, abuse,
homelessness and it was very hard to convince them that they were safe,
but Bobby had reached Micah and Micah just worshiped him for it.
	 She checked Bobby's vital signs and took his temperature again. 93.5,
up from 90.2 when he was found in the barn. "You hang in there." she
told him. "There are an awful lot of people out here pulling for you."


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

Title: X-Book 3: Within the Storm - Chapter Nine: Bitter Chill

By: Kath713/Leen713

Rating: PG-13 (violence, language)

Genre: Crossover, SPOILERS FOR X2

Summary: see prologue for book 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing in regards to the Marvel characters or
any character from a previously published source portrayed in this
story.

Reviews: Any feedback would be great and is appreciated!

***

Chapter Nine:

Toad stared at the dark wall and clenched his fists in frustration.
He was crouched in the shadows near the front door, trying to decide
what to do next.  To his right, he could see the young woman sitting
cross-legged on the floor, leaning her chin in her palm and looking
tired.  Her eyes shone out against her face, which was now partially
covered in soot from the burning blankets.

A part of him wished Rebecca would try to burn down this place, even
though he knew it was pointless.  He was ready for something to
happen, he was ready to be confronted or attacked by guards at any
moment, that he knew how to handle.  But the waiting was becoming
unbearable.

Toad stared at her with a dark frown.  He was glad she did not look
scared, but she looked bored, content on waiting for someone to
rescue them or believing someone was bound to check up on them.  Was
she so fucking naive?  After what he had seen her do on that old
video, soldiers running through the trees, firing on her and her
mother, she should know what kind of humans held them here.  She
should be angry, damn it.  She should be fucking pissed...

So why wasn't she?  All that power and she was just sitting
there, listening to that X-Man babble on about something.  Toad
flexed his hands again and looked away from Rebecca voluntarily,
before something else in his mind forced him to.  It was easier to
be angry, to hate both her and the Cajun for their apathy, instead
of resolving himself to the same fate.



"Maybe they're leaving us here to die," Gambit said with
exaggerated worry, but smirking, "Maybe they will leave us to
starve
to death or suffocate."

I could speed that up for you, Toad thought, and then heard Rebecca
speak.

"I don't think so," she said, "They could have just
shot us and saved millions on that robot."

Gambit began to shuffle his cards again and sighed, "I wish I
could think of something to play with only half a deck.  Something
to pass the time..."

"Well," Rebecca replied, "Split it up and we can play
really short games of WAR.  Of course, things might get violent if
you don't let me win."

Gambit chuckled, "I just want to say, right now, that I am the
only one allowed to burn my cards."

"I guess that's out then," Rebecca replied with a sigh.

Gambit glanced between her and Toad wickedly.

"I could sing..." he suggested and was met by a resounding,
"NO," from both other parties.



The minutes ticked on slowly and Rebecca stared down at her bare
feet.  She really was not thinking about her toes, but she did not
have anything else to stare at.  Their passing conversations had
grown quiet.  Gambit sat with his head leaning back against the wall
and his eyes closed.

Rebecca sighed heavily, and despite her even exterior, one needed
only look in her face to see the frustration there.  It was not that
she was apathetic; it was simply that she was very good at
controlling her temperament.  She had to be, when one overly
emotional moment could lead to an inferno.

She looked over toward Toad, who was still crouching motionless in
the corner.  Unlike her new Cajun friend, he looked completely
alert, ready to pounce on anything that might step through the inert
doorway.

Standing quickly, she walked over to Toad and sat down on the floor
near him.  Not close, just near.  He barely spared her a glance as
she settled against the wall.

"So, you work with Erik Lensherr," she said,
matter-of-factly, and then gestured toward Gambit, "And he works
with Charles Xavier..."

Toad turned his head to glare at her, waiting for her point.

"I'm a little slow..." Rebecca remarked sarcastically,
"But I just figured out why you two started attacking each other
in
my house. Xavier and Lensherr...causing trouble for each other since
way before the international conference at Liberty Island..."

"What'd you know about that?" Toad spat suddenly, an old
ache rising up in his jaw.

"Got a memo..." she replied simply, and then quoted in a
overly deep, pompous impersonation, "`Beware...dangerous
individuals...blah blah blah...exercise extreme caution...blah blah
blah...mutant activity suspected...blah blah blah...'"

Toad's expression did not change and Rebecca shrugged.

"The Council likes to be dramatic," she said, "Especially
when they don't really know the facts of said event."

Rebecca stared at him curiously, as if she expected him to start
describing the entire experience, but Toad just glared into the
shadows again silently.  From their right, Gambit's even
breathing could be heard, and Rebecca marveled jealously about his
ability to nap in this situation.

"I wish they would at least heckle us or something," Rebecca
said impatiently, "You know, `Ha ha, mutants in a cage, ha
ha.'  At least then we would know someone was out there.  How do
they even know we're still here..."

Toad glanced over at her, and pointed toward the ceiling.

"Because we're bein' watched," he replied with no
small amount of anger, and then muttered, "Christ, don't you
people
pay attention at all..."

Rebecca looked up and noticed a small circular patch at the top of
the front wall.  It was made of the same strange dark substance as
the door's control panel.

"That's not very smart," she said, "What if someone
was psychic or could manipulate perceptions...I've read about
people
who could do that over video..."

"Another memo?" Toad remarked mockingly, and Rebecca grinned.

"Nah...World Weekly News..." she replied.

Toad actually grinned, but it faded quickly back to anger as Gambit
chuckled from his cot.

"Thought you were asleep," Rebecca said and Gambit replied
without moving.

"No, chere," he said, and then added dramatically, "A
good X-Man is like a good thief, we don't let our guard down."

"Thief?" Rebecca repeated and Gambit finally opened his eyes.

"Of hearts, chere," he answered a little too quickly,
"Mostly..."

"Good lot you've done us," Toad sneered, "Thief who
can't even break out of his cell..."

Gambit sighed, "I keep explaining to people...I am many
things...mais a magician, I am not..."

"You know what works better than magic?" Rebecca put in
quickly, trying to avoid another argument between the two, "Just
pissing people off..."



Rebecca stood and walked toward the place in the ceiling hiding the
camera.

For the next minute and half, Toad and Gambit stood in dumb wonder
as a stream of obscenities, that if recorded by Guinness would have
gone down in legend, poured from the young woman's mouth.  In
those passing seconds, she insulted not only their captors, but the
captors' mothers, fathers, second cousins, ability to perform
certain unspeakable acts, variety of pets and finally their
manhood...assuming their captors were men...

The room grew slightly warmer as Rebecca's pent up frustration
was expelled by her creative swearing, but the look on her face was
more of amusement than real anger.

"...and you liked it!" she screamed with finality, and
breathed heavily in a few moments in silence.

Suddenly, the sound of slow, loud clapping echoed through the room.

Rebecca turned, looking slightly embarrassed, but very justified,
and Gambit grinned as he applauded.

"Beautiful, chere," he said, wiping an imaginary tear of
emotion, "Trés beaux...beyond words..."

Toad was still staring at her and frowning, but quickly began to
smirk as he looked up toward the camera.

"So..." Rebecca breathed heavily, "Who wants to go
next?"

Gambit shrugged, "I don't think I could beat that
performance...All I was going to say was `OPEN SESAME!'"

On Remy LeBeau's last word, the control panel next to the doorway
suddenly glowed to life, and a series of red lights changed to
green.  There was a loud hiss, and something inside the door clanged
loudly, right before it moved inward slightly.



They were all gaping dumbly again.  Rebecca and Toad exchanged
surprised stares and then turned to look at Gambit.

"Holy shit..." he said, and looked at his hands, "Maybe I
am a magician?"

Rebecca grinned with relief and then took a quick step toward the
doorway.  Toad leapt from the corner with surprising speed and
stopped her in her tracks.

"Hang on!," he hissed, and stepped in front of her, "We
don't know what's out there..."

Rebecca stepped back reluctantly, and Toad slowly pulled the large
door open.  The hall outside was dark, as dimly lit as the cell, and
seemed completely empty.  Toad frowned and cautiously stepped out.

They were close to the end of the hall, in the first of a long row
of cells, and he had a suspicion that they were the first occupants.

Gambit moved past Rebecca and followed Toad.  The green mutant
glared at him, but the Cajun simply stood and listened intently.

"There's no one else here," he said firmly.

"You don't know that," Toad growled at the other
man's certainty, but it was not arrogance in Remy's voice.
It was
experience.

"I do know, ami," he replied, and then added quietly, "A
good thief also knows how to see in the dark..."

Rebecca finally stepped out after them.  She shivered; the
temperature in the hall was much cooler than the warmth she had
created in the cell.

Toad walked over to the end of the hall, where he was met again with
another locked door.  However, the control panel was alight and
active.  He frowned and began to tap the flat screen
experimentally.  A dead panel was a problem, an active one was
something he could work with.

"Who the hell opened the door?" Rebecca asked quietly, and
Gambit shrugged.

"Must have been from outside this hall," he replied, but then
added with a grin, "I don't think our enemies would have just
let
us out with no one here…"

Suddenly, they both jumped as the hall door hissed opened.
Toad's expression changed to a satisfied, if still vicious, grin.

He was already in a ready position to attack, expecting surprised
guards to greet them on the other side.  However, the next hall,
much wider than the first, was also empty.

Toad frowned again and peered out.  It did not make any sense, a
heavily secured cell block just opens up for them and yet there is
not sign of any human resistance to their escape.  Someone else was
in this base with them, either the Brotherhood or the X-Men, and if
that was true, someone in their little trio did have enemies setting
them loose.

Rebecca walked toward the open hall door and felt the temperature
drop again.  Her bare feet felt numb against the cold floor and she
folded her arms around her chest.

Toad glanced back at her once, "Let's go…"

"You sure that's a good idea?" she asked, the strange
chill making her very nervous.  The cold was menacing in the
darkness.

"You wanna stay here?" Toad asked angrily, and continued
before anyone had a chance to reply, "Come on."

Gambit followed out last, listening carefully beyond their spoken
conversation.  He could hear wind howling from far off, and the
strange clicks of the machinery surrounding them, but no living
beings.

Toad considered each direction in the hall and finally began walking
to the right.  Gambit glanced at Rebecca and shrugged again, before
following the green mutant without argument.  Right was as good as
left when you had not idea where the hell you were.

Rebecca took a few steps after them when she felt the bare skin of
her feet begin to stick to the icy floor.

"Wait a minute," she called to them, and the two men paused
and looked back at her.  Both of the men had noticed the chill but
easily ignored it as they were equipped with heavy layers of
clothes.

Gambit looked apologetically at her, "We could go back and try to
find a surviving blanket for you, chere…"

Rebecca grinned and shook her head, "Don't need to…"

She closed her eyes and they waited.  After a few seconds, the
biting cold in the hall folded to a wave of heat.  A small frown
creased her forehead as she focused, but then she grinned and opened
her eyes.  The floor around her began to glow faintly as heat flowed
from her limbs.

Rebecca flexed her bare toes experimentally and shuttered as the
chill left her body.

She exhaled slowly, "That's better...Ok...let's
escape..."

Rebecca marched passed both of the others confidently.  Gambit was
grinning with amusement.

"The lady is ready," Gambit said to Toad, "So we can
go…"

Toad rolled his eyes and stalked away after her.  Gambit could have
sworn the other mutant muttered something like "Bloody
woman."  The Cajun chuckled and moved quickly after his
companions,
strolling almost casually away from their now unoccupied cell.

***
Archived at www.fanfiction.net/~leen713

Title: X-Book 3: Within the Storm - Chapter Ten: Shrieks

By: Kath713/Leen713

Rating: PG-13 (violence, language)

Genre: Crossover, SPOILERS FOR X2

Summary: see prologue for book 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing in regards to the Marvel characters or
any character from a previously published source portrayed in this
story.

Reviews: Any feedback would be great and is appreciated!

***

Chapter 10:

Through the dark tunnels of the underground compound, a dark force
made its way towards the mutant cells at an incredible speed.  It
moved on the air, and the scattered molecules of water turned to ice
as it passed.  Frost gathered along the walls and floor, and
mechanical devices struggled to function as their wires and circuits
cracked in the cold.

Outside along the mountain, the snow had begun to fall heavily,
isolating the compound and preventing any other intrusion from the
outside world.  There were other mutants here already, attempting in
vain to recover those taken by Stryker's machine.

As the force reached the final hallway before the cellblock, the
form of a man stepped out of its shadow.  He was tall, wearing a
long dark coat and strolled along casually, his dark cane tapping
harshly against the cold floor.

When he reached the hall of cells, a dark frown fell across his
face.  The door leading into the secured section was open, and an
unnatural warmth lingered in the air.

He paused before continuing on, and stared at the open door with
growing fury...

***

Stryker walked around the control room proudly, watching as his
months of planning began to unfold.

The Sentinel had functioned above expectations.  Magneto was now
within the compound.  Stryker's arsenal of mutant weapons was
set, ready to destroy the intruders, even if it meant destroying
themselves.  His human soldiers were equipped with technology that
kept Xavier from interfering.  The prisoners, the price for
Stryker's revenge, were boxed and ready for delivery to the
Stranger.

On the large monitor before him, Stryker watched the five mutants of
Systems Operations fall into place.  On screens to the left and
right, he watched the X-Men and the Brotherhood approach the inner
sanctum where they would destroy each other.

"Sir?" a soldier below him called, "The two mutants from
the Brotherhood have turned around.  They are heading in the
direction of Xavier's men instead of heading inward..."

Stryker smiled confidently, "Don't worry about them.  If they
kill each other before our five boys get a chance to play, so be it.
Where is Magneto?"

"Still moving inward," the soldier replied, "The sentries
have stayed clear and he has met no resistance."

"Excellent," he said, "Contact the troops in the upper
levels, make sure the other mutants, his or Xavier's, are kept
away
from Magneto."

"Yes, sir," the soldier replied and then activated a
communication channel, "Sector twelve...this is
control...respond..."

Stryker walked over to a different control station and put a hand on
the back of the operator's chair.

"How is our other special boy doing?" Stryker asked.  The
soldier in the chair glanced up at the general, and was slightly
unnerved by Stryker's expression, a wide grin and his eyes unseen
behind his glasses reflecting the light of the monitors.

"Weinberg is still in stasis," the soldier replied, "We
will deactivate the neuralizer cap as soon as Magneto is in
place."

Stryker stood tall again, with his shoulders back in confident
satisfaction, a fallen man drawn up again to see his lost vision
realized.

"Sir?" the first soldier called again, and Stryker glanced
over at him, "There's no response from the guards in sector
twelve..."

"Then radio up to sector thirteen and tell them to get twelve off
their asses..." the general shot back angrily.

"I have, sir," the soldier replied, "They're not
responding either."

Stryker sighed with frustration, "Bring both sectors up on the
monitor."

A new image filled the large screen, and the bustling activity in
the room fell silent.  The bodies of three soldiers lay in a heap on
a hallway floor.  The images from the security cameras were quite
clear and in color, and the crimson stains on the floor could not be
confused as anything other than blood.

A moment later, the shot of the next sector appeared, and displayed
similar mayhem.  The guards had been mauled and unceremoniously left
in a pile on the floor.  Stryker ground his teeth together furiously.

"You see..." he growled, "This is what mutants do...This
is why we..."

He paused and narrowed his eyes.

"Zoom in..." he said, "Here..."

The solder glanced up at him with quiet dismay but did as he was
ordered.  He focused the camera in on one of the bodies, which grew
before them on the screen.

"Right there..." Stryker said, tapping on gloved finger on
the screen, "Closer..."

The soldier swallowed a grimace and focused in again on his dead
compatriot.  The image on the screen was gruesome, and the others in
the room shifted and glanced at each other in horror.  But Stryker
was not concerned with the body in particular, but the wall just
beyond.

There was a mark, sign of the struggle.  Five claw marks, slashing
deeply into the wall.  Stryker had assumed the soldiers had been
killed by the mutant Sabertooth, or possible the Wolverine, however,
he knew his creations when he saw them...and he knew what their
attacks looked like.

"Impossible," he breathed quietly.  She could not have
survived...but of course, he had survived so why not the Lady.  As
he knew first hand, there were other forces at work at Alkalai Lake
that day than just Xavier and Mutant 143.

"What's happening..."


A shriek rose through the compound then, an inhuman scream
reverberating through the walls, shaking the very foundations of the
mountain itself.

Stryker's eyes grew wide, and the color drained from his face.

The men around him automatically went on guard and looked around the
shaking room with controlled fright.

The shriek came again, echoing as if the source of the noise was
moving.

"No..." Stryker said, and shoved his way to the control
station.

With surprising strength, he lifted an operator from his seat and
shoved him out of the way as he sat down.  His fingers pounded on
the keyboard, until he activating the camera in the control room for
the mutant cells.  The image was blurred by a red stain on the
camera's lens, but the destruction in the room was obvious.

A few more taps on the keys, and a new shot appeared.  The room
lacked the bloody mess of the previous sectors.   It was dark and
completely empty.  A mutant cell...without its mutant prisoners.

"No..." he growled again, slamming his fists down on the
controls and standing quickly.

"Assemble your men," he shouted at one commander, "Find
them!  Take them alive!"

The commander nodded, but looked uncertain and he and several others
headed out of the room.

Stryker's hands were still clenched into fists, his own blood
dripping from his knuckles from cuts made by the broken control
panel.

"What about Magneto and the other mutants, sir?" another
soldier asked.

Stryker seethed with fury and a mad smiled spread once again over
his features.

"We continue on as planned..." he said in a strangely calm
voice, "Prepare Weinberg for use.  Get him to the front
chamber...keep out of sight of Xavier..."

"Yes, sir."

"And..." Stryker said, "Tell the Systems Ops boys...they
can go play..."

***
Archived at www.fanfiction.net/~leen713

Oh, The Irony
Part Two
By Amy Denton

Please see Part 0 for relevant disclaimer info and notes.
One more note: I hope I got the phrasing right for a term Kurt uses, if
I didn't, yell at me, not Sunshine. Thanks to Sunshine for not only
beta reading but giving me the dialogue for Kurt. Thanks!!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mid-morning of the next day, Bobby stirred and started to come around.
Jean stopped her paperwork and came over to the side of his bed.  His
eyelids fluttered then opened all the way. He stared up at Jean, relief
mixing with confusion on his young face.

Jean smiled at him and said "Good morning."

Bobby blinked and tried to speak but the oxygen mask got in the way and
he did not have the strength to move it.

Jean removed the mask for him and asked "How are you feeling?"

Bobby licked his lips and whispered "Cold." He blinked again and said
"Kinda weird for me to be saying that."

"Not really. Just because you can freeze things doesn't mean you can't
freeze yourself."

Bobby smiled at Jean's comment. "How long have I have been here?" he
asked.

"Not long." Jean replied. She checked his vital signs and took his
temperature. It was almost back to normal. Bobby would be just fine.

He licked his lips again and tried to swallow.

"Thirsty?" she asked.

"Yeah." he said

Jean held out her hand and a glass slid across a small table next to
the bed. She picked it up and held it to his lips, holding his head
with one hand and the glass with the other.

He sipped at the warm liquid but made a face at the sweet taste. After
few sips, he was done and Jean set the glass down on the table. His
eyes moved around the room, touching on an object here and there, like
he was trying to convince himself that he really was safe.

"You're a popular guy. You've already had visitors." Jean told him.

"Rogue?"

"No, Micah. Rogue will be here just as soon as classes are over for the
day."

Bobbie blinked. "Micah?"

Jean nodded. "He's very concerned."

"He's a good kid." Bobby's voice faded as sleep claimed him again.

			  	  *****************************

True to Jean's word, Bobby's first visitor of the afternoon was Rogue.
She came straight to the Med-Lab, books in hand. Jean sat her at a
small table near Bobby where she could work on her homework and be near
him. His second visitor was Micah, minus his school books. Again, he
paused in the doorway, then slowly walked into the room.

"Hey, Micah." Rogue said to him.

"Hi." Micah said, looking surprised that Rogue spoke to him.

"Good afternoon, Micah." Jean said to him. "You'll be pleased to know
that when Bobby woke up this morning, I told him you were here to see
him."

Micah darted a glance at Rogue, who did not look up from her work,
then, visibly, relaxed enough to say "Really?"

Jean repeated Bobby's words and got a genuine smile from Micah. "You're
most welcome to stay but you will need your schoolwork. You're not just
going to sit here."

Micah shook his head and darted another look at Rogue.
"I...I...wouldn't want to...get in the way."

"You're not in the way." Rogue said. She still smarted from how Micah
had seemingly wandered in to the Med-Lab when she had been kept from
the same place but she couldn't really blame him. He was worried about
Bobby too. Plus, he was younger than her, so, she had to be the bigger
person, no matter how much it sucked.

Micah shook his head. "I...I can come back." He turned and practically
ran from the Med-Lab.

Rogue looked after him, then looked at Jean. "Did I do that?"

Jean shook her head and said "No, you didn't. He upset about Bobby
that's all."

Rogue shrugged her shoulders and went back to her schoolwork.

Bobby woke up just after Micah's hasty departure. He looked over and
saw Rogue standing next to him.

"Hey." he whispered.

"Hey. Everyone's askin' about you." Rogue replied.

"Yeah?" Bobby said.

"Feeling a little better?" Jean asked, joining Rogue at Bobby's bedside.

Bobby nodded and said "Can I get some water?"

A glass levitated from a plate warmer near him and settled into Jean's
hand.

"That is not water." Rogue said, looking at the green liquid.

"It's warm, diluted, Jell-O. Believe it or not, this is better for him
than water, at the moment. You want to try this on your own?" She asked
Bobby.

Bobby nodded and, after raising the bed up, Jean handed him the glass,
then went back to the ever-present paperwork waiting on her desk.

"Sip slowly, don't gulp." Jean instructed.

Bobby nodded and did as he was told.

"Micah was here." Rogue said. "He's really freaked out about you."

"Jean said he'd been in here last night." Bobby replied. The Jell-O
felt so good sliding down his throat that he wanted to empty the whole
glass at once but didn't have the strength to do so.

"What happened? How'd you wind up where you did?" Rogue asked Bobby.

Bobby shook his head and said "I don't really remember. About all I do
remember is walking down a road and wishing I had a cellphone. That and
I needed to find a place out of the wind but it gets kinda fuzzy after
that." He sipped at the Jell-O, surprised that such a simple
conversation could wear him out.

Rogue nodded and let him be. There was plenty of time for finding out
what happened, later.

"I didn't freak you out too much, did I?" Bobby asked her.

She shrugged. "Stuff happens. I'm just glad that you're going to be all
right."

"Like you could get rid of me that easily." he said.

She smacked him on the shoulder. "Just be happy you're sick, if you
weren't..."

"Children..." Jean said, not looking up from her paperwork.

Bobby and Rogue smiled at each other and Rogue felt a weight lift from
her heart.

  				 ****************************

It was all fault and he didn't know how to fix it. It was his fault
that Bobby was so sick and stuck down in the Med-Lab. It was his fault
that Rogue had been so upset and that Logan was in a bad mood. It was
all his fault. He wanted to apologize to Bobby and Rogue and Logan,
really, he did. But he didn't. He couldn't. He was too afraid. Afraid
of being throw out of the school. Afraid that Bobby and Rogue and
anyone else would never speak to him again. Afraid of being dropped
back into an ugly, ugly life he'd thought he had left behind. So, he
said nothing and retreated further from the rest of the school. That
way, it wouldn't hurt as much when he was found out and thrown out.

				 ******************************

As his strength returned, Bobby grew restless and bored. Especially
after Jean shooed Rogue out around dinner time and he couldn't even
have a conversation with another teenager.

"I can get your schoolwork down here, if you need something to do."
Jean told him. She made her hourly check of his vital signs and was
pleased with his rapid recovery. The boundless recuperative powers of
teenagers never failed to amaze her.

He made a face and said "That's okay. It's not going anywhere."

"I might even be able to get a tv down here but the schoolwork would
come with it." Jean said. She bit her lip and hoped that Bobby didn't
see the grin she was trying to hide.

He made another face. "You just don't want to have to wait on me when I
get back to the classroom."

"Truer words were never spoken. Of course, I'm quite happy to still
have you, period." Jean said. She slid a stool over and sat down next
to Bobby. "You scared everyone silly. Even Logan was speechless."

"Sorry." Bobby muttered, his eyes cast downward. "I thought I was doing
something nice for another student, one of the new guys. Guess not."

Something in the back of Jean's mind stirred to life and, suddenly, she
had a horrible suspicion of who was behind Bobby's near freezing.

"You want to talk about it?"

He shrugged. "There's not much to say."

"Try me." Jean said. At the same time, she sent a mental message to
both Scott and Professor Xavier to come down to the Med-Lab.

"I don't want to get the kid in trouble. He doesn't know you guys the
way I do. He might freak and run away" Bobby said, his eyes still
downcast.

"Bobby, look at me." Jean said. When he did, she said "We need to know
what happened so we can keep it from happening again. Whoever it is,
they need to know that this kind of behavior is unacceptable but that
mistakes can and do happen."

The Med-Lab's doors slid open and admitted Scott and Professor Xavier.

Bobby looked at Jean and asked "You brought in reinforcements, huh?"

Jean smiled and replied "Do you really want to have to repeat this
story?"

"Where's Rogue?" Bobby asked Scott.

"Upstairs, watching a movie. Logan and the other kids are keeping her
occupied." Scott replied.

He nodded. "If I tell you, don't be too hard on him. You gotta promise
you're not gonna get too mad. He's new here and..."

"Bobby, we are not about to discipline another student without cause."
Professor Xavier said. "You will have to trust us on that."

"I do." He sighed and said "All right. The whole thing started out as
an errand I told one of the new kids I'd run for him."

So, Bobby laid out the whole ugly story. How he'd headed for the
bookstore but never made it because he had been grabbed by unknown
hands, dragged into an alleyway and drugged into unconsciousness. How
he'd woken up, gagged and bound with voices talking over him and how he
had escaped by freezing the bindings around him and scaring away his
captors. After that, it was easy to get out of the dilapidated factory
where he'd been held and run as far and as fast as he could.

"They took my jacket and my shoes. Like that was going to stop me."
Bobby said. He watched the adult's faces for some sort of reaction to
his tale. "Don't get too mad at him. He didn't know any better. Neither
did I." he added.

"It's admirable for you to want to take on all the responsibility but
you're both at fault." Professor Xavier said.

"You know we don't have a problem with any of you going into town but
you're supposed to tell one of us. Or did you forget that part?" Scott
asked.

Bobby shrugged. "I didn't know it was a trap until I heard one of them
muttering 'That kid better be right about his family'. I wouldn't have
gone if I did."
Professor Xavier shook his head and said more to himself "Of all the
reasons, why didn't I see this?"

"Because even you're not perfect, Charles." Jean said to him. She
looked at Bobby and switched back into doctor mode. "I think that's
enough excitement for one evening. He needs his rest."

Bobby didn't argue. He might have felt a 1,000 percent better than that
morning but he still felt like someone had run over him with a truck.

"I'll be back in a moment." Jean said to Bobby.

She walked out into the hallway with Scott and Professor Xavier.

"Unbelievable. I'm assuming you'll want to talk to him immediately."
Scott said to Professor Xavier.

Professor Xavier nodded. "Bring him to my office."

After Professor Xavier left, Jean looked at Scott and said "You're not
going to like what I'm going to say but go easy on him, okay? "

Scott quirked an eyebrow at her, his question unspoken.

"Humor me." Jean replied.  She kissed him on the cheek and sent Scott
on his way before returning to the Med-Lab.

				 ********************************

Twilight was spreading across the grounds of the Xavier School as Scott
hiked up the stairs to leading the student bedrooms. Darkness came
quickly in the winter and it with a multitude of places to hide. It
would be better for all concerned to end this matter before darkness
fell and they spent another evening searching for another student in
the cold and the dark.

He knocked on a half-closed bedroom door and poked his head around it.

"Daniel, where's your roommate?" he asked.

Daniel, a skinny 15 year-old with a mop of dark hair, looked up from
his homework and shrugged.  "Don't know. I haven't seen him since
dinner. What'd he do?"

"Disappeared on me." Scott replied, turning and walking away from the
bedroom. He walked back downstairs and headed for Professor Xavier's
office. There was a much faster way to find the errant student then
physically searching the mansion but he never got that far. The object
of his search came out of the library, right in front of him, book in
hand.

"Micah." Scott called to the boy "I've been looking for you."

Micah's head snapped up, his eyes grew wide, then he turned and bolted
down the hallway, the book dropping from his fingers.

"Oh, hell." Scott muttered. *Why do they always have to run?* He broke
into a run himself and chased after Micah.

//Jean, Micah's run off on me, he's got a good head start. Get Kurt.
We're in the lower hallway near the front door.//

Micah ran as fast as he could down the hallway, looking for the first
door leading to the outside. So what if it was cold and dark? He didn't
deserve to be warm and dry with what he'd done. The hallway curved to
the left,then emptied into a sunroom with a door leading to a porch and
the outside. If he could get to the porch, he'd get away. He did not
see nor did he hear Kurt appear in the sunroom, then reappear at the
porch door, blocking his escape.

Micah charged into Kurt at full speed knocking him backwards into the
door, which popped open, spilling both of them onto the porch. Micah,
terrified, fought against Kurt but the teleporter was stronger and more
agile and simply wrapped Micah up in his arms, holding him tight. Scott
came puffing up and looked down at Kurt sprawled on the floor with
Micah in his grip.

"Micah, why did you run?" Scott asked, crouching down next to him.

Micah's response was lost in the sobs that started to shake his body.
Kurt looked up at Scott as if to ask 'What is going on?'

"Long story." Scott said to Kurt. "It has to do with Bobby being in the
Med-Lab, doesn't it, Micah?" Scott asked him.

Micah shook his head. "It's my fault." he wailed. "I'm the reason
Bobby's so sick."

Behind him, Scott could sense the growing crowd of curious students and
he just knew that Rogue was in the crowd somewhere. If Rogue found out
what was going on, things would get ugly, quickly. Fortunately, Logan
had followed the students and was now herding them away.

"C'mon, guys, ya' don't need to be here. Yer just gettin' in the way.
The excitement's over." Logan said to the kids.

*Thank you.* Scott sent a silent thank-you to whichever saint was
listening.

"All right, Micah. We can do this one of two ways. You can get up, come
with me and talk to Professor Xavier or you can be carried and you'll
wind up talking to him anyway." Scott said.

"I'm not a baby. I don't need to be carried." Micah said, through his
tears.

"Scott, may I have a moment?" Kurt softly asked Scott.

Scott thought for a moment then nodded and stepped back.

"I do not know what this is about, but I can see you are afraid of
something," Kurt said to Micah. He moved to a bench, sat down and
coaxed Micah to join him. Kurt put an arm around the boy's shoulder and
tried to comfort him.

"I did something bad," Micah sobbed. "I nearly got a friend killed!"

Kurt did not respond immediately, like Scott, he had seen the fear in
Micah's eyes and on his face and knew he had to tread carefully.

"Have faith, child. Sometimes we are tempted by evil to sin. Look at me
- these marks are angelic symbols - one drawn for every sin I have
made,"

"That's a lot of sins," Micah replied, staring at the markings on
Kurt's face and body.

"Yes, it is. One mark for every sin. Each time I sinned, I prayed to
God for forgiveness. We are not perfect. We make mistakes. The only one
who is perfect is the Creator. He has already forgiven you."

"But, will the Professor forgive me?"

"Do not be afraid, mein liebes Kind. Herr Xavier is a good man, he will
not hurt you." Kurt smiled gently.

Micah nodded, stood up and hugged Kurt.  He sniffled away the rest of
his tears and turned to face Scott.

"Okay, Mr. Summers, I'm ready."

Scott held out his hand to Micah and nodded at Kurt. "Thanks, Kurt."

Kurt nodded in return. "You are welcome." He said to Scott.

Kurt watched Scott and Micah head back down the hallway, then shook his
head. How could someone so young, be so unhappy?

		 *******************************




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

Oh, The Irony
Part Three
By Amy Denton

Please see Part 0 for relevant disclaimer info and notes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Micah was silent most of the way to Professor Xavier's office. Despite
Mr. Wagner's advice, he knew the Professor would take one look at him
and out he would go. The only question was go where? He had nowhere
else to go. Tears started to roll down his cheeks the closer he came to
Professor Xavier's office.

Scott felt Micah's shoulders start to shake under his hand. He sighed,
stopped and crouched down in front of Micah again. What ever Professor
Xavier came up with in the way of punishment would be nothing compared
to what Micah was doing to himself.

"Why'd you do it?"

"I....I was afraid. Jonathan said...he said he knew where I lived and
that if I didn't do what he asked....he would get me thrown out of
here. Looks like he did."

Scott shook his head. Micah hadn't spent a lot of time on the streets
but he'd been there long enough to know he didn't want to go back for
ANY reason. Scott had known terror like that and knew what it could do
to a person.

"Micah, Professor Xavier is not going to throw you out."

"He's not?" Micah's face lit up.

"No, but that doesn't mean you're not in serious trouble."

Micah nodded. "And?

"We'll discuss that with Professor Xavier."

Micah brushed away the tears. "I understand."

Waiting for them in Professor Xavier's office were the Professor, Jean
and Logan.

"Have a seat, Micah." Professor Xavier said to him.

Micah sat and waited, his eyes on the floor.

Scott took a seat next to Jean and whispered to her "Who's with Bobby?"

"Hank." she whispered back.

"Micah, look at me please." Professor Xavier said.

Micah raised his tearstained face to look at Professor Xavier, his
entire frame trembling with fear.

Professor Xavier sighed. He did not like seeing his students quaking in
fear, when he did, he saw it as a personal failure.

"Micah, child. What possessed you to put yourself and Bobby in such
danger?"

"Jonathan said he knew where I was and if I didn't want to end up back
with him, that I would do what he said."

Professor Xavier frowned and looked over Micah's head at Scott. //How
did this 'Jonathan' discovered where Micah was?//

Scott shook his head. //I have no idea. Micah was a runaway as far as I
knew.//

"When did he tell you this?" Professor Xavier asked Micah.

"A couple of days ago. He called and said I'd been misbehavin' again,
that I left without tellin' him and that if I wanted to stay, I had to
do what he said." Micah looked over at Scott, then back at Professor
Xavier. "I wanted to tell you, both of you but I couldn't. I thought
you'd throw me out if you knew what I'd done." His head dropped and the
sobbing started anew.

Another round of glances were exchanged, then Professor Xavier said to
Scott "The phone records will need to be studied, see where 'Jonathan'
called from. And then, we'll be speaking with the police."

"You've done so much for me." Micah said, through his tears. "I didn't
want to help him but I didn't know what else to do." He looked up at
Professor Xavier. "I'll do whatever you want me to do. I'll take
whatever punishment you give me, just don't throw me out, please!"

Logan snorted and got whacked by Jean.

"What was Jonathan after?" Professor Xavier asked.

"Money, what else?"

"And how did he know that Bobby's family had money?"

More tears flowed down Micah's cheeks. "He didn't. I...I told him. He
told me to pick someone from a family with a lot of money and he
wouldn't believe me when I said half the kids here didn't have a
family. So, I picked Bobby."

Scott closed his eyes and shook his head.

"I know he goes off with you guys sometimes, so I figured he could
handle whatever Jonathan might throw at him. He said he wasn't goin' do
anything to Bobby. Just hold on t' him long enough to get some money
outta his folks, a coupla of days at the most. I'd have told Jonathan
t' go t' Hell, ifIn I thought he'd hurt Bobby. But when Bobby didn't
show for dinner and then you guys disappeared and I heard the jet, I
knew I'd screwed up big time but I couldn't tell anyone, no one would
believe me. No one ever has."

"Is that why you came down to the Med-Lab last night? To make sure
Bobby was okay?" Jean asked.

Micah nodded. "I've seen dead bodies before and I wanted to make sure
Bobby....Bobby wasn't...." He couldn't bring himself to finish the
sentence and buried his face in his hands.

Jean got up from her seat and took Micah in her arms, letting him cry
himself out. When his sobs finally trailed off, Jean handed him a
handkerchief Professor Xavier passed to her.

"It's my fault." Micah whispered, his throat raw from crying. "I
shoulda told Jonathan to drop dead but I couldn't and now..."

Professor Xavier shook his head in disbelief. The cruelty adults
subjected children to never failed to stun him. He would take great
pleasure in making sure 'Jonathan' was put away for a very long time.

"Micah, I want you to listen to me very carefully." Professor Xavier
said to him. "You've done a terrible thing and what's worse, you tried
to cover it up. I am disappointed in your lack of judgment. I know you
haven't been here long but it's been long enough to know that you can
talk to anyone at anytime."

Micah nodded.

"Because you showed such poor judgment, you will be punished but you
will not be 'thrown out'."

"Whatever you say, Professor Xavier." Micah whispered.

"To begin with, you will go down to the Med-Lab with Dr. Grey and
apologize to Bobby. Then, you will come back up here and we are going
to talk. You will be assigned extra chores and your privileges will be
suspended for two weeks. Do you understand?"

Micah nodded. He was happy just being allowed to stay.

//We can go now, if you want.// Jean looked at Professor Xavier.

He nodded.

Jean stood and took Micah's hand. "Come on, Bobby will be thrilled to
have someone younger than 25 visit."

The two reached the office door before Micah turned and looked back the
Professor.

"Thank you, Professor Xavier." he said, his heart a little lighter then
when he came in.

			 *******************************

"I am going to find that bastard and rip his head off!" Logan growled.

*At least he waited for Jean to leave. She would not appreciate his
sentiments even if she agreed with them* Scott thought.

"Logan, brute force is not going to solve this problem." Professor
Xavier said to Logan.

"Why not? No head, no problem." Logan said.

Scott chuckled and said "Never thought I'd say this but I agree with
Logan, in theory, at least."

Logan eyed Scott for a moment and a smile, almost, curved across his
lips.

"Gentlemen, I appreciate that you want to see this man punished and,
personally, I agree with you. However, ripping the man's head off is
not going to help Micah nor is it going to deter others who are doing
the exact same thing to children like Micah. As tempting as it is to
met out our own punishment, once we find this man, we must hand him
over to the authorities." Professor Xavier's voice was firm and brooked
no argument.

Logan snorted, stood up and said "If ya' think I'm gonna let this piece
of scum get away with terrorizin' Rogue and the others, ya' nuts!" He
stomped from the room, slamming the office door behind him.

"He took that well, don't you think?" Scott asked Professor Xavier.

"At least he opened the door on his way out and didn't rip it from its
hinges." Professor Xavier replied.

"What now?"

"Now? Now, we find this *Jonathan* and make sure he never terrorizes
another child ever again."

			 ******************************

"No, Bobby, the speed of light is not how fast it takes Rogue to get
from her room to the bathroom. And I'm telling her you said that." Dr.
Hank McCoy said to Bobby. Like Jean, Hank was amazed at Bobby's quick
turn-around.

Bobby smiled. "She'll never believe you."

"You think? You want to place a small wager on that?"

Before Bobby could answer, the doors to the Med-Lab slid open and in
walked Jean and Micah.

"I heard you through the door, Hank. You should be ashamed of yourself,
contributing to the delinquency of a minor." Jean told him.

"Only if he had agreed, which he didn't." Hank responded. "Good
evening, Micah. Come to visit Bobby?"

Micah nodded. "I have something to tell him."

"Go on then, before he goes to sleep."

Micah nodded again and, slowly, approached Bobby's bed.

Bobby propped himself up on one elbow and offered a smile to Micah. "I
keep being told that you keep comin' around. What, you forgot your
homework and need a good excuse?"

Micah shook his head, then looked back at Jean. She nodded her head.

Micah took a deep breath and started. "I'm the reason you're here. The
errand I wanted you to do wasn't an errand.  Jonathan wanted a rich kid
to kidnap and told me to pick one and when I couldn't think of anyone I
thought of you and then you went off and got cold and sick  and now
you're here and it's all my fault and I'll understand ifn you don't
want to talk to me again I didn't think he was going to hurt you or I
woulda told him to drop dead I just didn't think and then you got hurt
and....I'm sorry, please forgive me." The longer he talked, the faster
the words came until he just ran out of breath. He looked up at Bobby
and waited.

Bobby blinked but said nothing, his brain still trying to process what
Micah had told him. 'Rich kid'? Jonathan? He'd been lured? By Micah?
What?

"If you needed money, all you had to do was ask." Bobby finally said.

Micah hung his head. "I'm sorry. I...I didn't think...Please don't hate
me."

Bobby stared at Micah for a long time before he laid down and rolled
over on his side away from Micah. Micah, panic stricken, looked back at
Jean. Jean motioned for him to come over to her.

"He hates me." Micah said to her, trying to keep the tears out of his
voice.

"No, he doesn't but he's confused and upset and that's going to take
some time to overcome." Jean told him. "Can you honestly blame him?"

"No ma'am." Micah shook his head. "I should go see Professor Xavier
now."

"Okay, he'll be waiting for you."

Micah nodded and left the Med-Lab, his feet dragging on the floor.

Hank looked at Jean and said "Mind filling me in?"

"It's a long story. After he's asleep, we can talk." Jean replied,
nodding in the direction of Bobby.

Hank caught her meaning and nodded. He walked over to Bobby's bed and
checked on the teenager. Bobby's eyes were closed and his breathing was
slow and steady. If he was only acting like he was asleep, he certainly
fooled Hank, who moved away from the bed.

				 ****************************

But Bobby was not asleep, far from it. After Hank walked away and he
heard the adults move to another part of the lab, he opened his eyes
and rolled onto his back. How could he sleep after hearing Micah's
confession? The kid had nearly gotten him killed!

And for what?! Money? Was that all Micah saw when he looked at Bobby?
After all Bobby had done with Micah and for him?

Bobby closed his eyes for a moment, the hopeful look on Micah's face
burned into his memory. How could Micah expect forgiveness from him so
easily? Did Micah think that a simple apology was going to make up for
what he had put Bobby through? What about the others? Like Rogue? She'd
have a fit if she ever found out.

Bobby closed his eyes again and tried to relax. Micah was a kid from
the wrong side of the tracks. He didn't know what trouble he would be
causing. He'd seemed sincere.

Nothin' doing. Try as he might, Bobby could not let go of the anger
welling up inside. Because of that kid, he was nearly died a very
unpleasant death. Now, he was stuck down in the Med-Lab for
who-knows-how-long, eating warm Jell-O and the occasional bowl of soup
because his stomach couldn't handle anything else. He'd have a mountain
of make-up work to face when he got back to class and, most
importantly, he was forced to stay away from Rogue. He couldn't see her
for more than a few hours a day!

Just what the Hell had Micah been thinking!?

"He wasn't thinking. He was reacting." Jean said near Bobby's ear. He
looked over to his left and saw Jean standing there, alone.

"Hank went to get dinner." She answered his unspoken question. "He'll
be back."

Bobby nodded.

"You want to talk about it?"

"The last time you said that, that's what started all this." Bobby
said, a trace of irritation in his words.

Jean shrugged and said "Be angry. I would be but don't let it eat you
up. For what it's worth, Micah is sincere in his apology and he is
quite upset."

"Good."

Jean did not have a response to that, so, she said "I will be over at
my desk if you need anything."

Bobby watched her go, then closed his eyes and tried to sleep but sleep
was a long time in coming. First, he had to calm down enough to sleep
and that took a very, very long time.

				 ***************************

Rogue heard the whispers at breakfast the next morning.  In a school as
small as The Xavier School nothing stayed a secret for long. After
breakfast and before she went to her first class of the day, she went
to the one person she hoped could tell her the truth.

Bobby.

The doors to the Med-Lab slid open and Hank greeted her. She returned
the greeting and went over to Bobby's bed. He was sitting up, eating
breakfast, or at least what passed for breakfast for a person in his
condition, oatmeal.

Rogue made a face when she saw it.

"Don't laugh too hard. It's the first solid thing I've had to eat in
days." Bobby told her. He saw the look on her face, sighed and set the
spoon down. "You've heard."

"Then it's true? Micah's the one who put you here?" she asked.

He nodded. "Says he did it 'cause his...guardian threatened to take him
away if he didn't get some money for him."

Rogue scowled. "That's no excuse."

"No, it's not."

"You don't seem to upset."

"Should've seen me yesterday when he told me. I was mad then and I'm
mad now but I can't do a whole lot down here, can I?"

"I can."

"Like what?"

"I'll think of something." Rogue said. She turned on her heel and made
for the doors.

Hank stepped in front of the doors and stared down at her. "Rogue, you
will leave Micah alone or you will be in just as much trouble as he
is."

Rogue glared him. "And? He nearly got Bobby killed! Doesn't that matter
to anyone!?"

Hank winced. "Lower your voice, I can hear just fine. Yes, it does
matter and it is being handled by the adults. Don't get in the middle
of it. Understand?"

Rogue did not reply.

*Lord, save me from overly emotional teenagers.* "Since you have such
problems with this, why don't you go speak to Professor Xavier? His is
the final decision." Hank suggested.

"I can't do anything with you standing in front of the door." she
replied.

Hank quirked an eyebrow, then stepped to the side. Rogue stalked out of
the Med-Lab and disappeared into the elevator, hopefully on her way to
see Professor Xavier.

Bobby watched the whole discussion with undisguised interest. He was
still mad at Micah but less so, now that he had seen how upset Rogue
was. Maybe he *had* been a little too hard on Micah. Maybe not.

Hank came over and surveyed Bobby's progress with breakfast. He frowned
at the not-even-half-eaten bowl.

"Keep eating. When Dr. Grey comes in, I want to tell her something
positive." Hank told Bobby.

"Okay, I positively hate oatmeal." Bobby replied.

"Cute. You want to try that one on Dr. Grey?"

Bobby frowned but picked up the spoon and dug in.

				 ****************************

Rogue's irritation at Micah lasted all the way to Professor Xavier's
office door. With her books in one hand, she raised her hand to knock
but couldn't. What if the Professor got annoyed at her? What if he said
it was none of her business about what would happen to Micah? What
if....?

"Rogue," Professor Xavier said through the half-closed door, "there's
only a couple of minutes before class starts. What do you need?"

"I need to know what's going to happen to Micah." she said, pushing
open the door and walking into the Professor's office.

Professor Xavier was at the moveable chalkboard writing down a physics
equation when she came in. He stopped writing and came over to her.

"Why? Is it your intention to met out your own punishment?" he asked.

Rogue could not answer right away, not with Professor Xavier looking at
her in that *way* of his. She looked away.

"He nearly killed Bobby." she said, holding on to the anger that had
propelled her into his office.

"Yes, he did. He knows that and he will be punished for it." Professor
Xavier replied, calmly.

"And?" she demanded.

"You don't know about the punishments that I can give out. Pray you
never do." Professor Xavier replied with a tight smile.

"But..."

Professor Xavier held up a hand to forestall any further statements,
then said "Before you came here and learned about your powers, didn't
you do things that you wished you hadn't?"

Rogue flushed, thinking back on the three boys she had nearly killed
simply by kissing them. "Those were accidents. I didn't mean to...it's
not the same!"

"Yes and no. What Micah did was not accidental but he did it out of
fear and fear, as I'm sure you've discovered, is a very powerful
motivator. What made you leave your family?'

"I was afraid..." she stopped and looked at Professor Xavier. "It's not
the same."

Professor Xavier did not disagree with her, instead he said "I want you
to think on this today during school. If you were in Micah's position
and you were threatened with the only place you ever called home being
taken away, what would you do?"

Rogue looked down into Professor Xavier's pale blue eyes and absolutely
hated him for being right.


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