Author's note: Thank you to The Redshirt who Lived, kmj1989, anonymouscsifan, and .2016 for the reviews! Yeah, I'm a day early this week. I'm going to visit family tomorrow and rather than run the risk of not having time to post, I figured I'd get this in. Hope you guys like it :-)

Collateral Damage

The Brotherhood is in high spirits when we get back to base. My brothers and Peter, especially, take a lot of time and joy in rehashing and reliving every little detail of our victory tonight.

I don't really see the need to gloat- I mean, we just beat up a bunch of other mutants. Our own kind. That doesn't seem like a good cause for celebration to me, X-Men or not.

But it's pretty clear that none of the others share my opinion on that point, so I decide to keep it to myself.

"-And then I dislocated his arm. He dropped like a rock," James concludes proudly. "What about you, Myles?"

"I beat up this kid with a visor," our brother replies.

"Cyclops," Peter supplies helpfully.

I snort back a chuckle. You know your nickname has to be bad when someone gets it right when they're actually trying to insult you.

"He was bleeding all over the place," Myles says, his face shining with this morbid glee that creeps me the fuck out.

I'm thinking about making my exit- I don't want to listen to this shit anymore- when Peter turns to me.

"Who'd you take on, Vixie?"

"The blue feral guy," I reply hesitantly.

"That's Beast," Peter explains. "That's Charles Xavier's right hand guy. He-"

"Wait, a feral?" James interjects, frowning. He eyes me with laser-like focus, as if he's checking for some sort of damage. "He- he didn't uh, hurt you, did he, sis?"

I roll my eyes. "No, of course not," I assure him. "Thanks for the concern, brother. I'm touched."

But not really. Something about the almost... possessive look in his eyes just seems off to me somehow. Or maybe it's like the source of his concern doesn't feel like it's coming from the right place? It's a little much, even for my over-protective brother. I don't know, but I don't like it.

I manage to excuse myself soon after that, taking refuge in my room so I can be alone with my own thoughts.

Poor Beast probably hates me now for taking advantage of him tonight, using his gratitude towards me after Paris against him like that. And I can't say I blame him, all things considered. I tricked him, plain and simple. I manipulated him once he figured out who I was. I'm not proud of it, but there it is.

It's not like I had a choice, though. I was just doing what I had to to get away from him, you know? And it's not as if I owe Beast anything. I saved his ass, so after this I guess you can say we're back at square one with each other.

That's what I keep telling myself, at least.

Truth be told- I liked kissing him, far more than I should have. The way his lips felt, his scent, how our bodies fit together so perfectly... Even if it was a ruse on my part, the connection that I felt between us was definitely real.

But it doesn't matter, does it? He's going to hate me now, and that's probably for the best, anyway. He's an X-Man, I'm with the Brotherhood.

We're enemies now, and that's that.

March 20, 1974

My next outing is a solo mission- not because Magneto wants me to go out alone, but because I pretty much ignore his instructions to take someone with me.

I'm not very good at following directions, ok?

Especially not on something that I know I can take care of myself. I don't need a babysitter when I'm just going out to delete a list of known mutants' locations from a company's computer hard drives. It's going to be a cakewalk.

And it is, at first.

There's only one security guard keeping watch of the whole place, and he's not doing a real good job. He's too busy gorging himself on Twinkies and Coke, from the smell of it.

I don't even bother engaging him- I just sneak right on past him, into the server room.

"Here we go," I murmur to myself, and get to work.

I brought a set of screwdrivers and a degaussing wand with me to completely wipe the hard drives of the six computers in front of me. I figure it's a lot quicker than picking through the system on each and every one to find the right files and then overwriting all of it. No mess, no fuss.

Sure enough, I'm done within fifteen minutes. I've just finished putting the last server back into place when I hear footsteps just outside of the room.

Aw, fuck.

I duck out of sight under a desk on the opposite side of the room just as the door swings open, so I can't even see who's invading my space. Friend or foe? I can't tell.

"I'll stand lookout," I hear an unfamiliar male voice say after a moment.

So there's at least two, great. Just great.

Ok, maybe I'm re-thinking the whole "lone wolf" thing right now. A little, at least.

The door swings shut, and I listen closely for a minute or two to figure out how many more people there are in here with me. I can only hear one set of lungs breathing, one heart beating.

Alright, that helps a little. I'm pretty sure I can take almost anyone down- or at least evade them- one-on-one, especially if it's just a human punk.

I hear a sigh and the sound of someone settling into a chair. After a few minutes I chance a peek over the desk I'm hiding behind-

Oh, are you fucking kidding me?

It's Beast.

Well there goes getting out of here cleanly.

I'm not delusional- I know that as a fellow feral he's going to sense me if I try to make a move for the door, whether I try stealthy or an all-out run for it. And I also know the only reason I managed to beat Beast last time was because I tricked him.

Damn, it hurts my pride to admit that.

Well, maybe he'll just let me go? I mean, if he's here to get rid of the mutant list (and I think it's safe to assume he is), if he finds out I've done it for him...

I decide it's worth a shot.

Beast is so intent on his task that he doesn't notice me for a moment after I stand up. He has a thoughtful frown on his face, and as I watch he lets out a frustrated grunt and tips his chair back, clearly pondering the wiped state of the computers.

"Admiring my handiwork?" I ask.

He startles and falls backward into a snarling heap.

Oops.

I contemplate making a run for it at that moment, but he recovers his feet too quickly. So instead I lean back against the wall with my arms crossed, trying to look casual while keeping my guard up all the same.

"What are you doing here?" Beast asks sullenly.

He's clearly grumpy over looking like an idiot in front of me, but how is that my fault? And then, yeah, he's probably still mad about what happened last time, too. He's not going to fall for that again.

I know I'm out of freebies with this guy, so I'm going to keep it cordial if I can.

"So rude," I murmur.

"You did try to lobotomize my temporal lobe the last time I saw you," he replies stiffly.

I snort at his petulance. "Did not," I retort. "You're a feral- a strong one, too. I know how hard I hit you. You should've been fine by the next evening."

Beast purses his lips, like he knows I'm right but doesn't want to admit it. Typical guy, not wanting to accept he's wrong.

I smile teasingly. "I think you're upset because I kissed you," I observe, watching his reaction closely. "Which is a pity. It was a great kiss."

Honest to God, his cheeks turn purple in a blush as he looks away from me. Yes, he thought it was great, even if he's going to be too stubborn to say it aloud.

Don't ask me why that matters to me, but it does. Even though he probably thinks I'm just toying with him.

Beast grunts, rather than answering. "What are you doing here, Vixen?" he repeats, only more polite this time.

Well fine then.

"The same thing as you," I reply briskly. "Deleting files. I just finished, though, and was about to leave when you waltzed in. What was your plan, exactly? Overwriting? How tedious."

"What method did you use, then?" he demands.

"A little hardware," I tell him, pulling the tools out of my pocket.

To my surprise, Beast shakes his head in disgust when he realizes what I did. "You destroyed this entire company," he accuses. "Think of all the people who work here. Not all of them can be bad. This list could just be the work of one person, and you've gone and ruined the lives of-"

His flat-out condemnation makes my temper flare. "Oh, spare me the righteous indignation," I snap, glaring at him. "Are you X-Men really that weak, that you're concerned over the livelihood of people who are a danger to our kind? The people who work here can get new jobs. Or they can choose to rebuild this company from the ground up. It'll take time, yeah, but hopefully by that time the status quo will have changed and it won't even matter that they were compiling that list. Until then, consider this as acceptable collateral damage."

"There's no such thing as 'acceptable' collateral damage," Beast replies coldly. "'Collateral damage' is just a term lazy people use to excuse their actions when they result in unnecessary pain and death. You can try to make yourself feel better by calling it that, but putting an absurd label on the consequences of what you just did doesn't make you any less guilty."

The fucking nerve of this bastard!

I kinda felt like Wanda was exaggerating when she talked about the X-Men before, but now I get what she was saying. The employees of this company are alive and well, and can go find other jobs. They're not dead, cut open on tables like mutants all over the place are because someone snitched on them to some mad scientist asshole. And this guy's worried about Joe Shmoe not getting a goddamn paycheck? What the hell is wrong with him?

I sneer at him in disgust. "You know what? I'm done here. You're welcome for doing your damn job for you," I tell him, sarcasm dripping from every word. "Now excuse me, you sanctimonious prick."

Beast snorts in derision, which just pisses me off more. "Be my guest," he says, gesturing towards the door.

I'm hesitant as I approach the exit, having no other choice than to get closer to him, too. I half-expect him to attack me, but he doesn't move.

Dimly, I realize that he doesn't want to fight me any more than I want to fight him.

But before I open the door I hesitate, remembering that Beast has a buddy on guard out there. Another X-Man, just what I need right now.

"Who's the mouth breather outside?" I ask through clenched teeth.

"The brother of the man you knocked out last time," Beast replies acidly.

He's just determined to infer the worst motivation in everything I do, isn't he? What I did was an act of fucking mercy for the Cyclops kid, considering how Myles was tearing him up. But no, that's not how Beast sees it, of course not.

I snarl in frustration and turn to scowl at him. "Did you see what my brother was doing to that boy?" I ask, hackles raising. "Would you rather your buddy have a bump on the head or be turned into mutant sashimi?"

"I'd rather not have fought in the first place," he says. He's so self-righteous it makes me want to barf.

"Your little friend started it when he fired the first shot," I hiss.

"Actually, you started it by trying to steal that Agent Orange," he counters childishly, voice rising. "We were just trying to-"

And that's the moment the other X-Man decides to burst right though the door.

Perfect, just fucking perfect.