So I got to a computer (hooray! could I go longer than nine days without the internet? Hmm) but didn't have enough time to write a full chapter. What I have here is the first bit of the next chapter and an excerpt from a later chapter to come (fic trailer!). When I've finished the chapter I'll upload it separately so the author alert will buzz you. Thank you so much for reviewing,I've used some of the feedback;you guys are the best!

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Marie couldn't sleep that night. She felt like she was trying to hold in a rushing river that was bursting its banks.

All that power!

And so little control.

She'd already shedthe telekinesis and telepathy, but in the brief moments she'd had them she'd absorbed more thanJean's abilities. She'd been given a look through Jean's thoughts.

Memories couldn't be... let go of. Not just like that; the unclenching of a fist, skin off skin...

She was remembering parts of Jean's life as though she'd lived it herself. And while alarm bells were going off in one part of her head, she couldn't help but be fascinated. Which would only make it harder to forget.

Most of those minutesspent holding Jean's handwere only a whirl of confusion. Energy had descended on her, and she felt almost more awake than she'd ever been - ever could have been. Objects were flying across the room and Marie wasn't sure ifshehad some part in it, but she keptclear in her mindwhatshe was meant to be doing and stared immovably down at the floor, grounding herself, damming up as much power as she could stand. The overall feelings of helplessness and panic coursing through the room didn't help. When the first memory came, she shut her eyes tightly, but it didn't help. Some things she saw - it didn't come naturally to her, but Marie started to blush - definitely weren't meant for anyone else to see. Years and yearspassed - too fast to sort anything out.

That night, sitting on her bed, not quite looking at the wall in front of her, Marie was beginning tosee the method in the madness. Therehad to be some kind of pattern...

She looked at her watch. Only a few minutes past nine - still not too late. Doubtlessly Professor McCoy would still be working in the lab...

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Future chappie excerpt:

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The old man lived as a total recluse. The mere sight of anyone else seemed to spook him. He never talked to anyone, and he wouldn't even ride the elevator with anyone else in it. One of the neighboring children who claimed to have peeked in to his apartment swore there was ten bolts on his door, but he was wrong – there were sixteen.

No one ever visited him, and he rarely left his house now. Months ago, he used to venture out to the park, where, the children reported, he would play chess, but with no opponents. His smile was absent-minded and his eyes distracted.

At present, however, he was perfectly focussed, though it was costing him a great deal of effort. He was sitting cross-legged on the dusty floor of his living room, calling to the fan of sixspoons that danced around his head.

No magic tricks here. And he was beginning to think his days spent like a magician were past for good.

Someone knocked on his door.

The spoons suspended in the air fell, but did not make a sound as they touched the floor. The sixteen bolts and chains rattled, although they were already tightly in place. He was just making sure.

A voice rang out:

"Let me in, Magneto."

His back was still facing the door. Without turning, he called, "Can't you let yourself in?"

In a fit of impatience, every bolt and chain suddenly ripped off the door. At the same time, the complex lock clicked and the door swung open.

Magneto stood, smiling. He hadn't felt this way for months, but it was all coming back to him.

"Jean. Is it really you, then?"

Jean's lips curved upwards. "Yes, it's me."

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"You'll forgive me for not giving you a proper reception," said Magneto. "It is a sad state of affairs, but Mystique has been closing in on me. Is it still two lumps and a dash of milk, Jean?"

Jean nodded and accepted the steaming teacup on its saucer.

"She's been keeping herself busy, of course," Magneto said. "You know the cure is available on the black market while the government waits for the verdict, don't you?"

"She's been dealing it?"

"Good heavens, no. She's been wreaking havoc." Magneto chuckled. "She's developed a personal vendetta against any parent who'll pay an arm and a leg to have their child 'remedied' once a week. You know the story, I'm sure."

Jean stirred her tea thoughtfully. A tendril of milk emerged from the spout of the milk pitcher and lazily twined into her cup.

Magneto looked mildly impressed, and continued, "In her spare time she's decided to track me down. That's why I'm not seeing anyone anymore. All I'm capable of doing is bolting my door shut day after day while I wait out my convalescence." He sighed elaborately. "Until I regain my abilities, if I ever shall, I'm afraid I can't be of too much use to you, Jean."

Jean sipped her tea and eyed him over the rim of her cup.

"And you haven't yet told me what you're planning to do," Magneto added.

"Only what you taught me."

The answer surprised him, after such a long reticence. Jean leaned forward and went on, "Just think. Everything you ever dreamed of for mutantkind. You'll see it before you die." Her eyes darkened strangely, and gleamed.

Magneto felt oddly calmed. He didn't need to say anything.

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Reviews really help me write! I'm still looking for ideas for the site of theClimatic Destructive Battle, heh. I'll serve up the next chapterproperly as soon as I'm able to. (: