#When Shield picks up some strange intel from the Arctic, Logan and Blaze are sent to investigate. What follows will challenge the X-Men's very definition of mutant.#
Disclaimer: I own nothing, nada, zip. Blaze owns me. Ilehana is Corrinth's.
01
"Tell me again Wolverine," the redheaded British girl besides him asked over the crackle of the radio, the drone of the helicopter rotors and the scream of the Arctic winds. "Apart from my obvious use as a fantastic hot water bottle, what am I doing here?"
Hanging grimly onto a bar that ran along the inside of the open-sided helicopter, Wolverine pondered his answer as he watched the icebergs rush past not so very far beneath them. The real answer, to keep his mind on the job at hand, wasn't the one he wanted Blaze to know. Logan was all too aware that this mission had come at the worst possible time.
Right about now, the X-Jet should be touching down in Muir Island, off the Scottish coast. On board were Hank, the Professor, Xavier's son David and his daughter Ilehana. David was to be reunited with his mother Gabrielle, Xavier's ex-wife. Ilehana on the other hand was being taken to the island's Research Centre. She was deep in a coma, and the X-Men hoped that Moira McTaggart might be able to help bring her round. More than anything, Logan wanted to be at Ilehana's side, but that was not to be. Instead he was here in the Arctic in a Shield helicopter with only the Firefly for sensible company. Great.
"You remember when you an' the Cajun went undercover through Blink's portal to investigate Sinister's lair?" Logan growled into the radio mike on his headset. Blaze nodded once, of course she remembered. "Well Beast finally had a breakthrough with the readings he took of the other side. Some particles or other, when he ran 'em through some chromatography or somethin' they could only have come from the Arctic. Not much to go on, but then I had a message from an old acquaintance. A satellite had spotted some funny goings on at an Arctic site…"
"A Second World War submarine," Nick Fury elaborated, coming to join Wolverine and Blaze. "Trapped for sixty-plus years in the ice pack."
"So here we are," Wolverine concluded. "Hitching a ride with this bunch of cowboys to go investigate what exactly is goin' on. Satisfied?"
"I know what you're doing here Wolverine," Blaze griped. "I still don't know what I've done to deserve this."
"You were happy enough to come along when Logan first asked you," Fury pointed out.
"Yeah," said Blaze, shrinking into her Arctic survival gear, "but that was before I knew we were going somewhere cold."
"I needed someone who'd been to Sinister's base before," Wolverine replied candidly. "That only leaves you or Gumbo. Besides, you're a Northern English lass, aren't you? I figured you could handle the cold better than that Southern pretty boy. Be like comin' home for you."
Blaze laughed sarcastically, rolling her eyes. Her gaze flickered to the fast-approaching polar ice-sheet. The daylight reflected off the snow was so bright it hurt her eyes. The cold wind stung her cheeks, turning them pink, and chapped her rosebud lips. One thing was blatantly obvious as Blaze wriggled her toes in her boots, trying to keep them warm. Gambit seriously owed her one…
Roll titles…………………………….
