Brotherhood: Second Interview

This is set the day after Apocalypse Day.

---bh

Lance ached. Yesterday had sucked a lot.

Guilt the guys into acting. Hope they could steal a jet. Hope they didn't die taking off. Or landing. Or run out of gas over the ocean. Or be mistaken for a terrorist and get shot down. That had been the easy part. It didn't get really interesting until they were in Mexico- there, they had to fight Magneto and survive.

Dammit Wanda. Why did you have to do that? Being all gallant and loving and messed up in the head. Would have been easier if you were just sad and angry and psycho still.

It had taken some time to convince the SHIELD pilots that Magneto should get a lift back. When they got back to the US, they'd landed in Miami for fuel. Old man just hugged his kids, said he was sorry, and turned part of a hanger into one of his bubbles. Then he was gone.

Hell of a father. 'Hi Daddy, please don't kill us. If you love us, you won't destroy the planet, if you do we'll die.' 'OK. Sorry. Bye.' Any wonder those two are screwed up? Toad was a crack baby and Fred was probably retarded, but they made the twins look stable. At times like this, he was glad he didn't know who his father was.

Lance snatched yesterday's jeans off the floor, throwing them at the wall angrily. Just a bunch of throwaway kids. He glared at the streak of dirt his pants had left on the wall. Kitty had offered to let him spend the night at the mansion, but it wasn't his scene. He'd tried, he really had, but he was too dirty for them. And she hadn't invited the others- how Toad and Blob survived when he'd tried to be an X-geek was beyond him.

Lance grunted as he reached for a clean tshirt. Fred was already awake, he was the only other one who cooked. Todd would eat anything, no matter how spoiled, and Pietro would starve himself before he did anything more complicated than eating from the package. And the house wasn't on fire, so that ruled out Wanda. Girl was a lot of things, but there were a lot of things she wasn't. Lance was at the top of the stairs when he stopped. Fred was still snoring.

OK, so who was cooking bacon? Who'd had the money to buy bacon? The door didn't lock any more, could be anyone. Why they didn't have to chase junkies and streetwalkers out every time they left was beyond him. The bad news was that it was bacon- the ruled out Kitty.

The mystery cook was an older guy, about six foot. Short hair, military haircut, muscular. Eye patch. "Furry, right? What are you doing here?"

"Name's Fury, kid. I bought you some groceries, a 'grateful nation owes you at least that much' and all that. How do you like your yokes, hard or soft?"

"Huh?"

"Eggs, sunny side up. Cook the yokes, or leave then runny."

"Uh... runny."

"Then you've got good timing, Hoss." Fury slid the eggs onto a plate, two of them. Bacon, a small steak, hash browns, toast. There was coffee, OJ and milk on the table already. Damn, that was more food than Lance ate all day sometimes. "Think of me as your fairy godfather."

There were two things Avalanche was raised to never turn down- free food and free money. "So what do you want?"

"You guys did a damn fine job the past couple days. Without much training or support. I might be able to use you, if you want a job."

"Doin' what?"

"Do you know what SHEILD does?" The question was answered with a shrug. "You've at least heard of us- most people don't even know we exist. We handle the special threats to national security. If it is too hot for the FBI, too subtle for the military and too much for the CIA, we get the call- aliens, mutants, that kind of thing."

"Sounds pretty good, but all I see right now is one old guy playing maid."

Fury's lips twisted in a grin as he reached into a back pocket. Lance stiffened, ready for a gun, but instead a badge case thudded down on the table. The ID had the same symbol as the sides of the jetcopter from yesterday. The badge was heavy, with the soft gleam of gold. "Your buddy puked in one of my aircraft yesterday."

"So you're the head honcho?" Lance stroked his fingers over the gold. It had to weigh three, four ounces. Hell of a lot of money for just some ID. "Whats the catch?"

"You work for me- if I say dog, you better wag your tail and bark like a good boy. But since you aren't a good boy, just don't give me another ulcer. And I don't just mean you- Tolansky, Dukes, and both the Maximoffs."

"I can't make them do something they don't want."

"You're the team leader- find a way. That's what good leaders do, and you've got potential kid."

"I'm going to need something a little more."

"More?" Fury laughed. "Don't push too hard, this might be a limited time offer. Let me guess, money?"

"Money is nice." Fury was right about one thing. Lance was the leader, no matter what Pietro might say. Even Professor Xavier and his pet badger had thought so. Being the leader was a lot like being the parent, he had to look after his throwaways. "But it isn't everything. If we don't get thrown out, we get to finish this school year. I want to graduate. Anyone else who can gets to, to; the rest, I want to make sure they can get their GEDs at least. Training, so when we get busted up and old we aren't just tossed onto welfare. And I want to get some help for my people."

"What kind of help."

Lance circled his ear with the tip of his fork. "Case you haven't noticed, some of us are a little nutty around here. Toad, Blob, they are functional but they aren't right either. And Wanda's been mindfucked so many times I'm surprised she remembers her own name. No telepaths, no programming, just someone we can talk to." He stabbed the fork in the air. "You said they are my team- fine, help me fix my team."

Fury smiled. It was a better answer than he hoped. If Avalanche could bring his teammates, they'd have something very nice. "We can do that, so long as I can add someone to your team."

There were more footsteps from upstairs. Yesterday had been the first interview for them, now it was time to see if the rest were interested in a job. And breakfast.