Chapter 1: The Meeting
Broadway is dark tonight
A little bit weaker than you used to be
Broadway is dark tonight
See the young man sitting
In the old man's bar
Waiting for his turn to die
Broadway-the Goo Goo Dolls
Manhattan Island, New York City, New York
November 30, 2000
Jessie sat on the stoop of the run-down apartment building she and her family lived in. If you had the nerve to call it a family. Jessie's biological mother, Miyamoto, had died eight years ago, leaving her only daughter orphaned. Since
Jessie had never known her father, and she had no living relatives, the Browns had become her "family"- they were her foster parents. Mutual feelings of hate had developed quickly. Jessie sighed, looking down at her nail file. Everything was just so unfair…
"Excuse me," a voice above her said. "Are you Jessica Parker?" The voice was decidedly feminine, soft and reassuring. Jessie looked up. And nearly fainted. The woman in front of her was about twenty-something, with chestnut hair and green eyes. She wore a strange black uniform with a prominent X symbol on the belt buckle and collar. The four people standing behind her had on similar uniforms. A man about the same age stood the closest; his uniform sporting a peculiar visor that completely covered his eyes. He ran a hand through his dirty- blonde hair and sighed. Behind him stood a young black woman whose uniform bore a silvery cape. Jessie noticed that, even though the woman was obviously in her mid-twenties, her hair was totally white. Puzzled, Jessie looked to the back of the group. A teenager stood there. Her uniform had a hood, which nearly concealed her sepia hair. However, it did not hide a single lock of pure white hair at her widow's peak. But the man she stood next to, despite the fact that he was evidently a man, didn't resemble a man at all. He had the darkest hair Jessie had ever seen on a human, and above all that, he had claws. Six ten-inch claws, one protruding from the space between each knuckle, each as sharp as a diamond-edged razor blade and as lethal as cancer. Jessie stared, terrified, and yet, transfixed by these…Mutants, Jessie thought, suddenly struck with inspiration.
The woman smiled. "I'm Jean Grey. This is Cyclops, Storm, Rogue, and Wolverine. We're the X-Men." As Jean introduced each person, she made a gesture in their direction. Jessie nodded, acknowledging them. "So, why are you here?"
Jean looked bemused. "Um, because…because, um, ah, oh forget it!" she cried. "I'll just let him do it!" Jessie adopted a similar expression. "Who?"
Jean looked like she was about to say something, but Cyclops cut in. "Who? That job-stealing, butt-kissing, blue-blooded aristocratic Southern pretty-boy? Him?!"
Jean narrowed her eyes. "Yes. Blizzard." Cyclops whined. "Oh, shut up." Jessie was going to say something to counter this remark(and it would more than likely be cynical), but it suddenly got icy cold. As Jessie looked up, she saw what was very likely to be the world's largest rosebud carved entirely out of ice. Cyclops groaned. The bud slowly opened, revealing its occupant in full splendor. Occupants, Jessie corrected herself, as she observed a huge black stallion with a white mane, tail, perfect blaze, and four immaculate stockings toss his elegant head. That didn't tell her the bud was built for two, but the rider, as he dismounted, was Jessie's main point of attraction. He, mimicking the action of his stallion, tossed his long mane, though his was an unnatural shade of grayish-blue. The man was barely tall enough to see over his stallion's back, although he was easily six-foot-four. As he walked towards her, silvery cape billowing and the heels of his knee-high, lace-up silver boots clicking on the cement, Jessie could see the powerful muscles under his tight black leather uniform. He knelt down before her and handed her a blood-red rose. "Hey, you must be Jessie. As I gather from Cyclops's reaction to my, shall we say, dramatic entrance, you must already know of me." His voice held a gentle Southern accent, not enough to judge his mental capacity by, but rather a polished one, unmistakably the product of a very well-refined and proper Southern upbringing. Jessie had been so entranced with his handsome face that she hadn't noticed his snow-white skin. The part that wasn't covered by a mask, anyway. (Remember Robin's mask from Batman Forever? That's it.) However, in startling contrast to his skin, hair, and clothes, Jessie noticed that his oblique eyes were a stunning emerald-green, more flawless than any she'd ever seen. Blizzard smiled, revealing his diamond-like teeth. "So," he said, "you comin' or what?" Jessie took the rose and inhaled its scent. As she did, an absurd, and yet somehow not so absurd thought crossed her mind. Maybe they're very well-disguised mutant hunters, and this guy Blizzard is being paid to soften me up so I'll be easier to capture! she thought. Jessie shook her flame-crowned head. Blizzard looked like Christmas had been canceled. Long, dark lashes obscuring his haunting emerald eyes, he stood up and, with a sigh, remounted his stallion. When the others tried to protest their leaving, Blizzard merely waved them ahead. After the other X-Men had gone, Blizzard turned to her. "You sure?" Jessie nodded. Shrugging, Blizzard heeled the stallion into a canter. Over the noise of the stallion's horseshoes ringing on the cement, Jessie heard a gun cock. Blizzard didn't have time to scream as the bullet pierced his back, drawing a bright shower of dark red blood. He tumbled off of his stallion, hitting the hard cement with a grotesque sound of ripping material and flesh. Jessie ran over to find Blizzard's left cheek, shoulder, and arm oozing blood. Then, strangely enough, the gashes healed, leaving only perfect skin. Puzzled, Jessie heard a small clink. Instantly she knew it was the bullet. With a grunt, Blizzard stood up. "Damn," he muttered, seeing the rips in his uniform. He picked up the bullet. "At least we know bullets won't work; my body will reject them as the wound heals." He smirked. Turning to Jessie, he said "So, still not comin' with us?" As he spoke, he held out a hand. Jessie smiled and took his hand. As Blizzard led her to the black 2001 Lincoln Navigator, they passed his stallion. Jessie was about to ask why the stallion wasn't coming when he suddenly disappeared. Jessie raised an eyebrow but did not question it. Climbing into the SUV, Jessie sat, alienated from these obviously good friends. She turned to Blizzard. "Don't you guys have names?" Blizzard grinned. "Well, duh, do you really think we walk around like this?" Jessie smiled sheepishly. "No, I guess not." Shaking his head good-naturedly, Blizzard pointed each person out. "Cyclops is Scott Summers, Storm is Ororo Munroe, Wolverine is Logan, and Rogue is Marie."
Jessie looked perplexed. "Don't Logan and Marie have last names?" she asked.
"Marie has one, she just never told it to us. And as far as we know, Logan doesn't even have one. Long story." he added, seeing the look on Jessie's face.
"Don't you have a name?" she asked. Jessie looked up to find the top half of Blizzard's face shaded in, his long hair shielding it from view. "Yes." he replied quietly. "I-I'm James. James Woodson." Jessie nearly fell over. "You? The only heir to the proverbial throne of the Woodson empire? The Jewel of the South? America's son? Your parents are billionaires, and you're still a mutant?!"
"Don't rub it in!" James snapped. "Yes, it's true, I am all that, though I wish I wasn't. Except for being a mutant. That's the best thing that's ever happened to me, because it got me away from them." James wrinkled his nose and continued. "Just because I'm richer 'n cream doesn't mean I've gotta be a Homo sapien like the other 90% of the world. Monetary status doesn't affect your genes, love, it merely affects your ego and goes straight to your head, if you let it. I woke up one morning and was introduced to my own personal hell, and then and there I decided I didn't want it. Besides, my parents didn't give horse spit for me. I figured if that's what money does to a person, then I want out!" Fingering the strand of hair that hung in his face, he sighed. Looking up, he mused, "But I sometimes wonder if God really does have a plan for me. I mean, I like being in the X-Men just fine, but is that all?" James hung his head. "I've even attempted suicide, but I can't show you all the scars from all those times, because they just healed up. If God brought me into this world, why can't he take me out of it? No, I know why. Because there ain't a place for me. They can't figure out where to put me. Guess I'm not good enough for anybody." Jessie was puzzled. What could possibly make the luckiest man on earth so depressed? Depressed enough that he wanted to die…
Jessie gingerly rested her head on James' left shoulder. As she smoothed out the ripped leather, her hand brushed his skin. Surprisingly enough, it was warm. "That's odd," she mused. "Wouldn't your skin be icy-cold?"
James raised an eyebrow. "No, why?" Jessie gently snuggled into James' chest. "Well, I had expected it, your power being ice and all…" Soon she was asleep. James looked down at Jessie, the shadow of a smile flitting across his lips. "Goodnight, Jessie." James put his muscular arms around Jessie's shoulders and kissed her tanned forehead. Laying down, he too fell asleep, Jessie's slow, rhythmic breathing lulling him into a deep slumber.
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