"Hello, my name is Kate Bryant and I'm standing here with Dr. William Preston Kroker of Pharmaceutical Technologies, also known as Pharm-Tech. For the past two years, Dr. Kroker has been working diligently with the government to find a cure for cancer. Dr. Kroker, can you tell us how your research is going?"

"Gladly, Kate. We at Pharm-Tech believe that we are on the verge to finally developing, not just a treatment, but a cure for cancer in all of its deadly forms. Our researchers have been working hard, and are very hopeful that we will have a prototype of a workable drug treatment with the next year and a half."

"Fantastic news, Doctor. A cure for cancer has been a long time in coming, it's wonderful to hear that we may be so close to winning the fight. Still, it's been tough going for you, hasn't it? What with all those rumors that have been going around about you using mutants as test subjects?"

Dr. Kroker shook his head. "Ah Kate, it's a shame that even when you're working for the benefit of millions, the few will always seek some way to discredit you. Those horrible rumors are absolutely false. And just as a gesture of good faith, I have granted Professor Charles Xavier, the champion of mutant rights, the interview he has requested."

Click

Doctor Kroker's face faded to black as the large monitor winked off. Across the room a blue hand clenched into a fist and yellow eyes glowed with suppressed anger.

"Humans," Mystique spat. "They lie like they breathe."

At the table across the room a woman with long auburn hair streaked with white sat behind a large table littered with various automatic weapons. At the sound of Mystique's voice, she looked up from the plasma rifle she was inspecting and grinned.

"Kinda like the pot callin' the kettle black, ain't it Mama?"

Mystique turned a glare on her daughter. "Excuse me?"

Rogue took in the furious look on her mother's face and shook her head. "Nevermind.

"What have I told you about talking back to me, Rogue?" Mystique demanded.

Rogue rolled her eyes. "Aw, Mama, relax. Ah was just kidding."

"Perhaps if you spent as much time on your training as you did on your sarcasm, you wouldn't be a prisoner in your own skin."

Rogue's face went deadly serious. Staring at her mother, she struggled to come up with something to say. Something that would defend her against the sting of her words. At a loss, she finally just fought back the pain at the mention of her uncontrollable skin and went back to inspecting the weapon in her hands. Mystique stood there for a few moments watching her before turning on her heel and leaving the room. As Rogue heard Mystique's footsteps fade away down the hallway, she raised the gun and looked down the scope at the door her mother had exited through.

"Bang," she said softly.

Wolverine watched as his latest employer rapidly typed in the last in a chain of commands. She was a fairly average looking woman with shoulder length black hair and black wire rimmed glasses. Well, today anyway. Wolverine happened to know what he was seeing now was not the woman's true form. His sources indicated that her true form ran more along the lines of blue skin, bright red hair, and shining yellow eyes. He was trying to remember her name, when he realized she was finishing up. Hitting the final key, the woman stared at the screen a moment before turning to face him.

"Well, Mr. Jackman, the money has been wired to your designated account. Fifty thousand dollars now, and the rest upon completion of the task. As agreed."

"That's fine . . . ?"

"Mystique," she supplied.

Wolverine nodded as he removed a cigar from his pocket. Ignoring Mystique's disapproving look, he struck a match and touched it to the end of the cigar. He took a long satisfying drag and met her eyes as he slowly exhaled the thick smoke. For a few moments, neither of them said anything. Mystique shook her head.

"My daughter will be down shortly," she said finally. "We'll have a final briefing and then you and she will rendezvous at the appointed spot tomorrow." She looked meaningfully at his cigar. "I'd appreciate it if you would cease smoking that revolting thing before she gets here. I didn't spend my life raising her just so she could die of your lousy secondhand smoke."

Wolverine stared at her for a moment, weighing how much he wanted his smoke against how much he wanted to keep his new employer happy. Finally, he gave in. Extending his hand, he ground out the cigar in his palm, watching disinterestedly as his flesh healed before his eyes. Replacing the cigar in his pocket, he turned his attention back to Mystique.

"How old is this kid again?" he asked doubtfully.

Mystique frowned. "Her name is Rogue and she is twenty." Before Wolverine could express his opinion about that, Mystique cut him off. "Do not doubt my daughter's competency, Mr. Jackman. I have raised her to be the best there is, and I know she is more than capable of holding up her end of the bargain. She has been briefed, as have you, on the objectives of this mission and she is well prepared." She met his gaze unwaveringly. "Believe me, Wolverine. If a mistake is made, it will not be by my daughter."

Wolverine didn't look convinced.

"I'm not saying your daughter's gonna screw up. I'm just saying, I don't like not knowing the person who's getting my back, Mystique. If I'm going to do the job you're paying me for, I need to know I can trust her."

"So what are you saying, shugah? You wanna spend some quality time first?"

Mystique and Wolverine both stood up and turned towards the voice. Rogue was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. Her eyes were set on Wolverine, sizing him up and being deliberately obvious about it. After her eyes had traveled from his head to his toes and back again, she brought her eyes back up to his. Pushing off the doorframe, she walked into the room. Wolverine watched her approach and raised an eyebrow at the sight of the plasma gun slung over her shoulder. Somehow the image of the 5'5" woman with the huge gun amused him. He chuckled. Rogue heard him and turned a scowl in his direction.

"What the Hell are you laughin' at furball?"

Wolverine almost choked. Furball? "Nothin'," he said finally.

"Rogue," Mystique broke in. "This is Mr. Jackman. He's the associate I told you about."

Wolverine stood up and walked over to Rogue, offering his hand. "Call me Wolverine, kid."

Rogue stared at his hand like it was a poisonous snake. She was having a bad day as it was and now her mother expected her to work with a caveman who had decided, without even giving her a chance, that she was a child who was just supposed to follow his lead. She narrowed her eyes.

"You're the one with the healing factor?" she asked, remembering what her mother had told her about the mercenary for hire.

"Yeah."

"You can heal from anything?" Rogue persisted.

"So far," Wolverine said slowly. Somewhere in the back of his mind a suspicion was trying to make its presence known. The girl was acting strange.

"Even a plasma gun?" Rogue asked innocently.

Too late, Wolverine eyes widened as he realized what Rogue was about to do. Instinct took over and his arm flashed out to grab the weapon just as she swung the gun off her shoulder. In one smooth motion Rogue aimed and pulled the trigger. A blast of hot plasma shot out of the gun's muzzle, hitting Wolverine square in his chest and sending him flying into the wall across the room.

"Don't call me kid," Rogue growled.

"Rogue! Stop this at once!" Mystique raged at her daughter. She moved towards Rogue as though to take her gun. Rogue lowered her weapon, but her eyes stayed on Wolverine.

"It's okay."

Mystique turned at the sound of Wolverine's raspy voice. His vocal cords were only partially healed, and his voice was hoarse as his healing factor worked to repair the burns on his chest. Mystique watched as he stood up and began walking towards Rogue. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Rogue start to fidget as she noticed his steps getting steadier as his body regenerated. She sighed to herself. Judging by the dangerous glint in Wolverine's eyes, her daughter was about to learn a very important lesson about dealing with the help. As she felt Rogue's eyes turn to her for guidance, Mystique took a deep breath. Sometimes you just had to let the baby bird hit the ground before she learned how to fly. Turning her back on her daughter Mystique left the room, calling over her shoulder.

"Remember, Wolverine. Tomorrow you and my daughter will be working together. It is my preference that that plan does not change."

As the door slid closed behind her mother, Rogue found herself alone with a very angry Wolverine. Turning her attention back to her rapidly healing opponent, Rogue steeled herself for anything.

"So, you're gonna pick on a kid, huh?" she stalled, using Wolverine's words against him.

Wolverine flashed his teeth in an unfriendly smile. "You're no kid."

Without another word, Wolverine lunged for her Rogue quickly tried to bring the plasma gun around again, but stare in horror as long metal claws sprung from Wolverine's hands and sliced the thick barrel off. Scrambling backwards, she turned to run, but Wolverine was too quick this time. He tackled her to the floor and pinned her beneath his body. Using his body to hold her down, he pulled his right arm back, pointing his claws at the unprotected side of her chest. Rogue sputtered, trying to draw a breath past his weight on top of her.

"You dumb bastard, you ruined mah favorite gun!" she raged. "Do you know how much those cost?"

Breathing heavily, Wolverine leaned in until his mouth was a hair's breadth away from her ear.

"Do you know how much they hurt?" he whispered.

Rogue's heart almost stopped. Suddenly, the reality of her situation hit her and she realized she was pinned beneath a man who, while he may not kill her, was certainly more than capable of making her very, very sorry. Fighting down the urge to panic, Rogue took stock of her position. Most of her body was covered by a bodysuit and her hands were pinned down at her sides. Closing her eyes tight, Rogue resorted to the only course of action left. Whipping her head to the side, she caught Wolverine with his head still down and urgently pressed her lips to his. Caught off guard, Wolverine froze in surprise. Before he could react, Rogue's skin flared to life. He had a few moments where he felt as though he were falling into a black hole and then his body grew slack.

As she felt him relax, Rogue quickly shoved him off of her. As his memories threatened to drown her, she curled up into a ball and tried to remember what Mystique had taught her about maintaining control. Pushing away all that was Wolverine, she took deep breaths and waited for her mind to sort through the new memories.

After several minutes, Rogue calmed down and looked over at where Wolverine lay on the floor. The whole thing had only taken seconds, and with his healing factor he should be coming around in no time. At that thought Rogue quickly sat up and got to her feet. Hurrying out of the room, she decided that perhaps she didn't want to be there when he woke up.