AN1: This will eventually be a crossover with "Justice League: Unlimited", and the DC animated universe.

Disclaimer: Seraph, Hardcase, Lobo, Shift, and Warlock are my own creations. The X-Men and related characters are owned by Marvel. "Justice League: Unlimited" belongs to DC and Warner Brothers.

AN2: This takes place approximately six months after the end of "Creatures of the Night".

The Protector Saga, Part III

Parallels

Chapter One: Rest and Relaxation

Ororo Munroe awoke with a start. Clutching her hand to her chest, she sat up in bed, taking a deep breath to calm herself. Outside, thunder echoed in the distance. As she forced herself to calm down, the thunder dissipated, the overcast skies clearing as she did so.

She lay back down after a moment, careful not to bother the large, dark shape next to her. Despite the air conditioner going at full strength, the room was still too hot. She had found that it was much too warm in their room to even sleep under the covers, let alone clothed. Yet, the bed was still damp with her sweat.

Unable to get comfortable on the damp spot, she rolled over, snuggling her naked body close to that of her lover's. Though she would not admit it to many, she couldn't but think the feeling of his fur against her bare skin was titillating; kinky even. She laid her head on his heavily muscled chest, his fur acting almost as a pillow. She felt, rather than saw, the slight shift of his body as his head raised. She looked up, catching his kind, almost doe-like eyes. "Did I wake you," she asked.

"No, Ororo, you did not," Henry McCoy replied pleasantly, smiling slightly. A massive paw came to her face, tucking a stray strand of ivory hair behind her ear. The same paw stroked her cheek lovingly, his gentleness belying his physicality. "I, too, have had great difficulty slumbering tonight." He sighed exasperatedly, his massive head hitting the pillow for a moment. He looked back down at her. "What woke you?"

"I … don't know," she replied. She readjusted her head, getting the barest hint of the soap he used. "I feel … ill-at-ease, I suppose."

"Ill-at-ease," he asked curiously.

She nodded, nuzzling her head into his chest. "I cannot help but to feel as if … something … evil is just over the horizon." She looked up to catch his eyes. "I feel an anxiety I have never known … settling in my stomach, and chilling me to the bone.'

He sighed, resting his chin on his chest. "Many scientists would simply dismiss any … kind of intuition, or clairvoyance as little to nothing. But, I have seen much too much to do so." A massive paw settled below her shoulder blades, gently rubbing her back. "Perhaps we should speak with Charles in the morning?"

"Yes … I was thinking the same."

His paw kept moving over her back, soothingly, comforting her to sleep. Her ear to his chest, she could hear the rhythmic beating of his heart, and the sound of his breathing. She was just beginning to drift off to sleep when his voice sounded softly in the darkness. "Have you had any dreams?"

"No," Ororo answered. "Or if I have, I am unable to recall them." She looked back up to him, his eyes sparkling in the low light. "What are you thinking?"

"In our case, portents and such have rarely been wrong … or if they are, it heralds something that could very well be worse." He looked down to her again. "I am concerned that any malevolent portent may very well lead to something evil that we must face."

"Let us hope that is not the case, Henry, my love," she said, as she placed a kiss on the side of his face.

"Yes, but if our luck were to run the way it does more often than not, we are going to meet something we would wish we did not," he said wryly. But, at the back of his mind, he wondered if it was really luck.

- - - -

The Next Morning

"Hon, here's your tea," Jake said, holding out the mug.

"Thanks, luv," Betsy replied, turning from the window. As she faced him, he noticed she was wearing her (formerly his) AC/DC t-shirt. Not for the first time, he wondered how it was that his stuff could become hers, but not necessarily the other way around. "Jake," she said, hearing his thoughts, "you know I am more than willing to share my clothes with you." She sent him the image of him dressed in one of her lace thongs.

"Nice," he replied facetiously. "But, you know, I can't fit into your underwear."

"How do you know if you haven't tried them on," she asked, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

"I … hey, wait a minute!" It took him a full five seconds for him to fully understand what she'd said. "I have not tried any of your thongs on," he sniffed in mock indignation.

"So, you admit to trying on some of my other knickers?"

"Yeah," he said facetiously. "But, I had really bad gas that day…. And I may've put some racing stripes in them."

She turned to look at him out of the corner of her eye. Catching her look, he said, "Don't worry, I put them back."

"You're a pain in the arse," she said, looking back out the window.

"I know," he said, kissing her shoulder. "But, that's why you love me," he continued, cheekily.

"Actually," she said, between sips of tea, "I think that's why you got along so famously with Deadpool."

"Now, that's just a low blow," he said smiling broadly. "Besides, I didn't so much get along with him as I did encourage him."

"Don't remind me," she replied, as if the very thought gave her a headache. But, she couldn't hide the smile that threatened to erupt on her face.

Jake wrapped an arm around her, kissing her cheek. "I love you."

"And I love you, too," she replied, returning his kiss. After a few moments in comfortable silence, she half-turned towards him, and asked, "Are you ready for today?"

"I don't know," he answered truthfully. "I mean, kids are gonna be running around like chickens with their head cut off." Yesterday had been the last day of actual school for students. Tomorrow, the students who weren't there the entire year would be picked up by relatives and the like. That just left today, which had been declared as an end-of-the-year celebration. A full day of fun and games were in store. "There's also the truly terrifying possibility of seeing Logan in a bathing suit."

"Don't say that too loud," she warned. "His fan club might overhear you."

"That reminds me," he said. "Have you heard about the pool some of the students have?"

"I've heard rumors, but nothing more than that."

He smiled, trying not to laugh. "The pool is on which of us look best in bathing suits. They've narrowed it down to three men and three women."

"Who are they," she asked, her interest piqued.

"The three women they've narrowed it down to are 'Ro, you, and Emma. As far as men, it's Logan, Remy, and Kurt."

"Joy," Betsy said. "To know that I am the object of hormonally driven teenage boys' fantasies," she continued dryly.

"Oh, I'm sure there're a few girls who fantasize about you as well," Jake replied, trying to hide a smile. She only looked up at him warningly, her mouth set in a grim line.

A few moments later, she reached up, placing her hand on his neck. Pulling his face to hers, she placed a small kiss on his cheek. "That's what I adore about you, luv. You can talk your way into anything."

"Thanks … I think."

"I personally hope Kurt wins. Otherwise, I suspect someone will get into an argument." She was referring to the fact that there was currently a division between certain members of the female student body. On one side were those girls who seemed to think Remy was a Cajun Adonis. The other side seemed to think the sun rose and fell with Logan's chest. Neither side seemed to realize: 1. The girls involved were all much, much too young for either of them to even notice them; and 2. Both men were currently in very serious relationships.

Unfortunately, the two sides had actually gotten into an argument earlier in the school year. It publicly showed the two sides not only to the rest of the school, but also to the faculty. The unwanted attention that followed embarrassed not only the girls involved, but both Remy and Logan as well. Nothing else had happened the rest of the year. But, that could very well change … soon.

As Betsy was about to continue, she heard the Professor's voice in her head. Jake, Betsy, I need you both in my office as soon as possible.

- - - -

"What's going on," Betsy asked, as she stepped into the Professor's office. Jake came in momentarily after her, closing the door behind him. Hank and Ororo were sitting next to each other, facing the Professor. The three of them had apparently been involved in a very involved conversation; the opening of the door had made both Hank and Ororo jump.

"We need to talk," Professor Xavier said. He gestured to a small couch, "Please, take a seat." As the two of them sat down, his attention shifted towards Ororo. "Ororo, if you would be so kind as to explain to them what you have explained to me?"

"Of course, Charles." She turned towards Betsy and Jake. "The last few nights, I've awoken during the night with … a deep foreboding."

"Really," Betsy asked, surprised.

"Yes," the other woman replied. "This morning, I came to Charles, to determine if there was something that I could not remember." Hank's massive paw settled gently on her shoulder. She took his hand in hers, comforted by his presence. "With his help, I realized I had been dreaming of being … crushed."

"I'm sorry," Betsy said, good-naturedly.

"There is nothing for you to be sorry for," Ororo said. "I … I was not being crushed from a great weight. I felt as if something was wrapped around me … as a snake."

"Is that all," Jake asked.

"No," she answered. "The foreboding I felt was not from the person crushing me."

"It wasn't," both Betsy and Jake asked together.

"No," she responded. "I felt something coming," she continued, "something … powerful … evil." The skies outside had clouded over, a massive funnel cloud spinning ominously above them. She looked back up at them, the sky clearing up as she did so. "But, that is not all," Ororo explained. "The very last thing I remember is the face of who I believe was Apocalypse, his mind bearing down upon not one, but all of us."

"Apocalypse, huh," Jake asked, staring grimly at the floor

"Are you sure it was Apocalypse," Betsy asked.

"No," Ororo answered. "I cannot be positive."

"If this person was not Apocalypse, I hesitate to think of the … being that could cause such a visceral response," Hank spoke up. "Anything that is a fraction as evil as he is someone to be avoided at all costs."

"Yeah," Jake concurred. "But, knowing our luck, we're already on a head-on collision with whatever this thing is." He sighed, and looked to Betsy. They spoke telepathically, coming to a mutual decision.

"Spread the word," Betsy told the other couple. "Tell everyone to be on high alert for anything out of the ordinary. Otherwise, there is little we can do."

"Professor," Jake asked. "Should we cancel our plans for today? The last thing any of us want is for the kids to be in danger."

"I agree," the older man replied. "However, we do not have any proof that whatever may or may not happen will involve the children, or that it will happen anytime soon." He thought for a moment, his chin on his chest. After several moments, he looked up at them. "We shall not cancel today's festivities. Doing so may, in fact, cause the children to worry. Therefore, we will continue with what we were planning, though we shall remain vigilant at all times.

"Henry, Ororo," Professor Xavier said, turning to them, "thank you for coming to me. Now, if you do not mind, I must speak with Elizabeth and Jackson alone."

"Of course, Charles," Ororo said, standing. "We shall see you outside." She and Hank walked out of the office, saying their goodbyes to Betsy and Jake.

As soon as they had left, the elder man focused on both Jake and Betsy. "What is this I've heard about a student pool?"

"Um…," Jake began. His eyes wandered around the room, never focusing on the Professor, a guilty half-smile on his face. "You heard about that," Jake asked tentatively.

"Of course," Professor Xavier replied, knowingly. At that moment, Jake wondered just how much the other man knew about the goings on in the mansion. Undoubtedly, he knew more than he let on. It dawned on him that maybe, just maybe, the seemingly innocuous man before him could hide secrets as few others could. "And I am curious as to know why exactly you permitted it to continue?"

"Well, there were a couple of reasons, actually," Jake said. "I only stumbled on what was going on by accident. And, when I did, the kids begged me not to tell anyone. So, I made them a deal. I told them that as long as they were not actually gambling, and as long as they told no one about what they were doing, I wouldn't say anything."

"I see," the Professor said. "And the other reason?"

"Quite honestly, I didn't see the harm in it; just so long as they weren't actually gambling."

"What do the winners of the pool get?"

"The losers of the pool have to buy the winners dinner at the restaurant of their choosing," Jake replied.

The Professor sighed, contemplating what Jake had said. "In keeping with the spirit of the day, I will allow this … provided you take any and all responsibility if something happens with the students involved."

"Agreed," Jake said easily.

"In that case," the Professor said, "I too shall see the two of you outside."

- - - -

"Scott, the meat is burning," Jean said, coming up beside him.

He glanced at her, and did a double-take. She was dressed in a red bikini, the two-piece swimsuit complimenting her figure, accentuating her curves. "I'm not burning the meat," he said, almost petulantly.

"Scott," she responded, "the nose knows." She tapped a finger on the side of her nose, to emphasize her meaning.

"Fine," he replied, a moment later. He was almost boring a hole through the grill with his stare, his jaw clenched like a bear trap. He began taking the hamburgers off of the grill, unable to entirely suppress his irritation.

"I know you and Warren are fighting," she said kindly. His head turned to look at her so quickly she thought he might have hurt his neck. He was about to ask how she knew, but was stopped when she spoke again. "I don't have to be a telepath to know when you're upset, you know."

Scott sighed, and slowly looked up at his ex-wife. "He says I need to open up more, that I keep my emotions too guarded."

Jean nodded understandingly. She seemed to consider what he'd said for several minutes. Finally, she said, "I don't know what the entire argument was about, and I'm not going to say that Warren was right.…" She hesitated momentarily, uncertain whether she should continue. "But," she continued, making her decision, "one of the most frustrating things about our marriage, Scott, was that you weren't able to share things with me that you should have."

He looked up again, his jaw somehow tighter. "And I suppose he does," Scott snapped, red-hot anger radiating out of his entire body.

"Yes, he does," she replied, her voice growing lower. "But, I will not say that our marriage is perfect, but neither was yours and mine."

"It's not perfect," he laughed bitterly. "You could have fooled me. Seriously, what do you see in him? He's…."

"He's what," she interjected coolly, returning his glare. "Need I remind you that you were the one that left me … for Warren, no less." She clutched her hands at her sides, trying not to allow herself to raise her voice. "Logan was there for me when you left, Scott. Regardless of what you think of him, he is a good man." She fixed him with a final glare, and started walking away, when she turned towards him once more. "In some ways, Scott, you and Logan are more alike than either of you would ever care to admit." She walked away, knowing it would burn him up her comparing him to Logan.

"What was that about," Betsy asked, as the red-head sat down at the deck table.

"I … I'd rather not talk about it," Jean replied, rubbing her temples, swearing she could feel a headache coming on.

"Fair enough," the other telepath answered.

Jean looked up, and saw Remy and Logan putting up a volleyball net. A few yards away, Jake was talking animatedly with Bobby and Jubilee. "What are the three of them up to?"

Betsy followed her gaze. She turned back to Jean, her mouth set in a grim line. "Jake seems to think we all have theme songs," Betsy said.

"Really," the other woman asked. She watched the co-leader of the X-Men with incredulity. "This is the same person that thinks of some of the more difficult Danger Room sessions?"

"Yes," Betsy replied. "He is the oddest man I have ever met."

Jean smiled conspiratorially. "So, what's my theme song?"

"He was leaning towards 'Freebird', but I don't think he'd made his decision yet."

"He is an odd duck," Jean said simply. A fine, red eyebrow raised questioningly. "Have any of his oddities rubbed off on you?"

"Thanks to Jake," Betsy began, "I now know all the words to each and every song on AC/DC's "Back in Black" album. That's not including choice works by Lynyrd Skynyrd."

Jean smiled good-naturedly. "Things could always be worse."

"I suppose," Betsy replied. "He could listen solely to chanting."

"Exactly." She looked down to the bikini she was wearing. "Are you sure Logan will like this," she asked. She'd only bought it the day before; mostly at Betsy's behest.

"Luv, is there something Logan would not like you dressed in?"

"You have a point," Jean conceded. She sipped at the iced tea she brought with her, once again watching as Logan and Remy finished with the volleyball net.

"Jean," Betsy asked, succinctly.

"Yes," the red-head answered, turning towards the other woman.

"Your arm is glowing." Jean looked down, confused. Her glass fell out of her hand, hitting the ground, as she took in her arm in surprise.

Her right forearm was glowing with a bright, white light. As she watched, the light seemed to grow along her skin, almost as if it was alive. "What's going on," she asked, even as the light continued expanding.

"I don't know," Betsy confessed. The light's expansion sped up exponentially, covering her entire body in a matter of moments. By this time, Logan, on the opposite side of the pool, had also noticed.

"Jean," he cried. He ran, and leapt, with a TK boost, over the pool, landing half-way between the pool and the deck table.

"Logan," Jean answered, reaching out for her husband. But, even as she did so, the light surrounding her intensified, and suddenly collapsed into a pinprick, taking her with it.

"JEANNIE!" She disappeared just as his hand was about to touch hers. "What the flamin' hell's goin' on," he roared, his body so tense with rage, his claws unsheathing them selves. But, even as he was speaking, the same white light began surrounding him. "What the…?" The light spread over his body twice as fast as it had on Jean. Moments later, he disappeared in the same pinprick of light Jean had.

Just after Logan had been pulled through the … portal … Hank came bounding out of the mansion, a harried look on his face. "Charles," he began, slightly out of breath. "Charles has just disappeared through a dimensional portal," he continued. Even as he said it, though, the same bright light surrounded him, pulling him through the same portal the others had.

"What the bloody hell's going on now," Betsy asked rhetorically, as the portals seemed to speed up. First Remy, then Scott, along with the grill, were pulled through the same portal.

"I'm guessing we're going on a little jaunt," Jake said, appearing next to her. Bobby and Jubilee disappeared, neither unable to escape its pull. Jake looked down to his hand holding Betsy's, noticing their hands were glowing with the same white energy. Looking at her in the eye, he said, "Here we go again.…"

AN3: For those of you who may watch "Justice League: Unlimited", this takes place after "Patriot Act".