Before the Blast

A/N: Thank you Captain Mockingjay for reviewing. You appear to be my only active fan at the moment (*sniff*), but I appreciate your support and enthusiasm for my writing. I give you a magical rainbow cookie of awesomeness! Anyways, read on.

oOo

Chapter 3: One week before the explosion

The Danger Room was in session. While Logan watched quietly from the observation deck, Kitty, Kurt, and Peter were doing an every-man-for-himself scenario down below. Peter was doing badly—he kept running into things and getting trapped in obstacles. Kitty was phasing through everything and trying her hardest to cause ultimate carnage. Kurt preferred an attack-retreat strategy, as he wasn't built to fight large moving objects.

Peter was the first one to go down. A large hammer suspended from the ceiling hit him from behind and sent him straight for the wall, which was severely dented after coming into contact with his body.

Kurt held on for a while longer. He was doing a good job dodging incoming objects and attacking when he could, until he was electrocuted by two metal rods that popped out of the floor.

That left Kitty, who stopped fighting when she realized Kurt and Peter weren't competing anymore. Logan closed down the program, gave the three of them a few strategy tips, and left.

When he was gone, Kitty walked over to Peter and Kurt, who were resting along the wall near the door, and said, "Ha! I hope you're not too embarrassed to have been schooled by a girl."

"Aw, come on Keety. Don't rub it in," Peter said. "Besides, Kurt and I have to fight everything that comes at us. You can just phase through it. Where's the struggle for you?"

"My powers take as much effort to use as yours do," Kitty said, sticking her tongue out. "And stop making excuses. You boys lost fair and square."

"Perhaps we lost this once," Kurt said, "but we've beaten you before many times. You just got lucky, Kitty."

Kitty frowned at him. "Lucky? Please. I could do this program again and beat you a second time."

"I'll accept that challenge," Kurt said with a sly grin.

"Wait, wait, wait. I don't want to do this again," Peter complained, putting his hands up in defense.

"Peter, your manly pride is at stake," Kurt whispered to him. "Are you going to back down from zis?"

Peter sighed. "I suppose not. Fine, then. We can have a rematch next week."

Kitty and Kurt both smiled.

oOo

It was early afternoon. Jean knocked on the door to the professor's office. She'd had another headache the previous night, and was starting to worry.

"Come in Jean," the professor said warmly from inside. So Jean pushed the door open and went to sit down beside her mentor. The professor smiled at her, but his smile faded when he sensed her uneasiness.

"What's the matter, Jean?" he asked quietly.

Jean sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I don't know, Professor. It's probably nothing, but last night I had a really bad headache. That's the third one I've had recently."

The professor leaned in and put a hand on her shoulder. He looked her in the eye and said, "Psychic headaches, I presume?"

Jean nodded. "Yes."

The professor put his hands on Jean's face and let his mind tangle with hers. What do you think is causing them, he asked as he began searching through her mind. Jean bit her lip.

I don't know. It starts with this fuzzy feeling in the back of my head—like static—and then my head starts to spin and I can't focus on anything but the pain.

Fuzziness in the back of the head? The Professor thought. That's usually a sign that you're tired, mentally. How much have you been practicing your telepathy lately?

Jean shrugged. A bit more than usual, I guess. Maybe I am a bit tired.

The professor retreated from her mind after finding nothing unusual and opened his eyes. "Then that's probably it," he said. "Try laying off from your practice for the rest of the week and see if you feel any better."

Jean smiled a little and nodded. She rose to her feet and said, "Thank you, professor. I'm glad I came by to talk to you. For a while there, I was worried something was wrong with me."

The professor saw her to the door. "You're perfectly fine, Jean," he said. "There's nothing wrong with you."

oOo

(Elsewhere in the mansion)

"Aaaand check." Kitty set her black knight near the white queen and grinned triumphantly. Angel glared at the board with great scrutiny. The two of them were playing chess. It had been Angel's turn to pick a game today, and he'd hoped Kitty would be bad at it, of course forgetting that he was terrible with strategy games.

"Fine," he said, drawing his king out of harm's way. Kitty put her queen two tiles away from it.

"And check again, bird brain. I can do this all day."

Angel blinked. "Why do I agree to play games with you that I'm sure to lose?" he asked. Kitty smiled sweetly.

"I don't know. Because you're a nimrod and haven't learned that I'm way better at games than you are? By the way, checkmate."

"Grr," Angel growled as his king was pitched into his pile of 'dead' chess pieces.

Kurt was nearby playing Go Fish with Bobby. "Hey Angel, maybe you should try your luck at card games. Maybe Kitty's no good at canasta…rummy…strip poker."

"Kurt!" Kitty protested. "I would never play strip poker. What a horrible game."

Kurt smiled mischievously and glanced up from his cards. "Zat's not true. I once played strip poker vith a lovely French girl. We had fun, even though it pretty much ruined my purity…." he added, shaking his head dramatically.

Angel and Kitty both froze and stared at him in utter disbelief. Bobby thrust out his closed hand for a fist bump. "Scoring it with the ladies, alright!" he said. "That did actually happen, right?"

Kurt whacked him over the head with the deck of cards. "Of course not, dummkopf. It's called sarcasm."

Bobby rubbed the back of his neck and grinned sheepishly. "Riiight. Sarcasm. I knew that."

Angel shook his head. "I don't have the guts to play games that involve drinking or the removal of clothing. And it's not like Kitty would ever agree to something like that…."

"Exactly," Kitty confirmed, throwing a death glare at Kurt.

Angel added: "On the other hand, I've never seen a girl naked before and I would really like"—

Kitty whacked Angel across the chest with the chessboard. "Don't even say it, Warren. Ugh, boys! You're all so single minded and stupid. I'm gonna go find Rogue and do something intelligent."

When Kitty was through fuming and finally stormed off, Angel crawled over to Bobby and Kurt and sat near them. "Oof, Kitty has a good arm," he commented.

"Zen don't anger her and make her vant to hurt you," Kurt suggested.

"I wasn't the one who suggested strip poker," Angel pointed out.

"It vas a joke, Warren."

Angel sighed. "Yeah."

Silence.

After thirty seconds, Bobby finally looked up from his cards and said, "So Kurt, are you sure that French girl you mentioned doesn't exist?"

Kurt and Angel both found something hard to hit him with.

oOo

(Later that same evening)

The blonde-haired telepath was sitting in a large red chair near a fireplace. Across from her was a short, heavy-set gentleman with grey streaks in his gingery beard. The two of them were having a conversation, part telepathic, park spoken.

"Why aren't we going after the girl?" the man asked, stroking his thick, bushy beard in irritation.

Because, we can't just walk up to the Xavier Institute and abduct one of the most powerful telepaths in the world from under the nose of thirty-plus mutants, the blonde woman argued.

Why not? The other mutants will be easy to deal with, and the only other telepath there is the old man, Xavier. We can deal with him.

Don't underestimate Xavier. Or the girl, the blonde woman thought, sighing aloud. The girl is extremely powerful. You know that as well as I. Taking her out would require many of us, plus we don't even know that we can keep her under control once we do have her. The stress might cause her to unleash her powers.

You suspect she has no mental barriers to protect her from the Phoenix, the man challenged. He raised a thick eyebrow.

The woman rose from her chair and began to pace. I can't tell. Every time I try breaking into her mind, I trigger pain of some sort, and that pushes me out. And I don't dare try to pry at the dear old professor's mind to find out. I'd get caught for sure. But the point is, barriers or no, it's going to be a mess. I suggest we wait until we've assessed the situation better.

Wait? We're not going to wait much longer, Emma. I want that girl—we all do. We need her, and I promise you I'll do anything to get her if you don't, the man warned darkly, his eyes flashing dangerously.

The blonde-haired woman closed her eyes and massaged her temples. "Fine," she said slowly. "I'll go get the Cuckoos. We'll bring you Jean Grey."

The man smiled and rose to his feet as well. "Excellent."

oOo

I had to rewrite this three times, before I was happy with it, so I hope it turned out ok and that I didn't overwork it. Also, thank you again to anyone and everyone still reading my work.

-The Ember Raven