AN: Okay, I know I'm supposed to be tying up all the loose ends over in "Strange Mercy," but I don't bleedin' feel like it right now, so here's a new one instead. In my screwy timeline, this story assumes the existence of Tag but does not depend on "How I Spent My Summer Vacation" or "Strange Mercy." In fact, I don't think I'll mention any of the stuff that went on in the crossovers at all. So, coupling wise, we've got Rogue and Pietro, as well as Lance and Kitty. I think that's it, anything else will be revealed as time goes on. This story takes place post-Hex Factor, at the end of the summer (does that timeline add up? Probably not- someone shoulda graduated by now, but well, there's not much I can do about that. Maybe I'll do a graduation fic after my own, who knows.) So: here we go.
Xavier pulled his scarf tighter around his shoulders against the cold breeze. Mid-August had brought with it a startling cold snap. As the weeks went on and the temperature never managed to climb above sixty, it had become clear that summer had ended and autumn arrived early to Bayville. The students at his academy had sobered up accordingly, being less rambunctious than usual and more attentive to himself and the other teachers there. Even Kurt and Evan, who usually brought so much chaos to the place, seemed subdued by the weather. Xavier checked his watch and glared.
"I didn't think you'd show up," a smooth voice purred from the darkness. Xavier rotated his chair to turn toward the voice.
"You're late."
"Only fashionably so."
"You're the one that asked for this meeting," he replied sourly. "I said I'd be here."
Mystique stepped out of the darkness.
"Don't whine Charles, it's unbecoming. I'm here now."
"Lovely. Which begs the question, why did you ask me to meet you?"
Mystique looked older to Charles than she usually appeared, and her face lacked her characteristic smirk.
"I have something you want, Charles. And you have something I need."
Xavier narrowed his eyes.
"You have nothing I want Mystique. In the future, if you ask me to meet you in the middle of the night, in the middle of a cold snap, have something to bring to the bargaining table."
Xavier wheeled all of six feet away before Mystique's next words stopped him in his tracks:
"Wanda. Maximoff."
Xavier paused, his back turned.
"I'm listening," he said.
"You'd been working on her for month, Charles, and you've gotten nowhere. I had her for a few days and she tore your band of girlscouts apart."
"She is nothing which my X-Men cannot handle, in time," Xavier replied stiffly. Mystique stepped closer to his chair.
"Time isn't something we have a lot of, Charles, neither you nor I. I will give you Wanda Maximoff, Charles."
"And what do you get out of this little bargain?"
Mystique took a deep breath.
"I get my family back. Nightcrawler, his image inducer as well as anything I'd need to fix it, and Rogue. In exchange, you get the Scarlet Witch, the most powerful mutant in existence, next to Magneto himself."
"What makes you think that your 'children' would come back to you Mystique, even if I gave them the opportunity?" Xavier replied after a long pause.
"You could make them forget that they were ever anywhere else," Mystique answered. "Wanda Maximoff hates her father, Charles. And you realize that he will be back."
Xavier said nothing for a long while. He knew he should go with his impulse of righteous indignation, inform Mystique that he would never treat the children like so many baseball cards, let alone do the unthinkable, change their memories to suit her whims. But his fight was not just about his personal ethics. It was about the fate of all mutant kind, as well as the fate of humanity. If Wanda Maximoff followed her father's anti-human doctrine, no matter how much she hated the man himself, she could devastate human-mutant relations.
"You ask two of mine and offer me one of yours, Mystique? You're giving me Magneto's daughter. Why not throw in his son?" Xavier asked, in a half joking tone.
"You know damned well that Wanda's powers are worth Nightcrawler's and Rogue's combined. Besides, your lovely mansion would not last long if you tried to force Pietro and Wanda to live in it together. She hates her brother almost as much as she hates her father."
"You're asking for far more than you think, Mystique. I'd have to change thousands of minds. All the X-Men, the Brotherhood, the entire population of that damned high school."
"You've done it before."
Xavier fell silent again as he considered this. She was right, he had done it before, and succeeded admirably.
"Meet me back here on Thursday at the same time," Xavier said finally. "I'll have made my decision by then."
He might have looked relaxed, lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling, but Pietro was edgy. Mystique, for the past several days, had been oddly lenient about allowing Pietro to speak on the phone to Rogue. The elder mutant had been oddly lenient about everything. She still demanded that the house be kept clean and had arranged for materials so that they might make repairs. However, all her orders had been spoken, not roared or shouted. It was almost like she was waiting for something.
If this alone were not enough, Pietro had to be on constant guard against his sister. While she had forgiven him enough not to attempt to kill him, he was still the object of her constant fury, which was more often than not expressed in a very physical fashion. He'd been able to hide most of the damage from Rogue, and explain away the rest, but he doubted he could fool her for long. The last thing Pietro wanted to see was a direct confrontation between Rogue and Wanda. Team on team, the two seemed to ignore each other, but if Rogue found out that Wanda was hurting him, she would no doubt retaliate. That's my girl, Pietro thought. The only problem? If Wanda and Rogue went head to head, only one would come out of it alive, and much as Pietro loved his girlfriend and respected her strength, he knew his sister's powers all too well.
"Shouldn't you be doing something useful?"
Pietro sat bolt upright, letting out a sigh of relief as he saw Mystique in his doorway.
"Name it, boss lady. I could use a task."
Mystique arched a red eyebrow, narrowing her eyes at him.
"Stand up," she said, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her. Pietro did so, cautiously. Mystique looked him up and down sternly. "Take off your shirt.
"Um… don't get me wrong, you're really attractive-"
"Don't be an idiot. Shirt, now." Pietro sighed and obeyed. His torso was covered in so many bruises in various stages of healing that they nearly formed a camouflage pattern. Mystique didn't touch him, which Pietro appreciated, she just shifted her weight to her heels and crossed her arms.
"Pietro-"
"You can't make a big deal outta this, boss, it'll be more trouble than it's worth," Pietro said quickly.
"Who?" she asked. Pietro said nothing. "Was it Lance?" she asked. Pietro burst out laughing.
"Rocky likes me, boss. Come on. Who in this house likes me least?"
"Of course," Mystique nodded. "Why don't you stop her?"
Pietro sat back down on his bed and sighed.
"If I stopped her physically, her temper would flare up and she'd hit me with her powers, and we all know how that'd go. So I just let her use me as a punching bag until she burns herself out. It's not like she's gonna break a bone."
Mystique nodded grimly.
"Please don't say anything," he entreated.
"No, of course not."
She opened the door and looked over her shoulder at him.
"It won't be a problem much longer," she said, and shut the door.
Post note: Ooh, will Mystique's plan work? Will Chuckles take her up on her offer? Will I get my hands on a vanilla coke by the end of the month? Will I like it? Who knows. Thanks to anyone who reads this, and thanks to anyone who reviews it. Preferably after reading it, but who can say.