"Where to now?" Monet asked. They had landed on a rooftop a couple of blocks over from the Baker Street offices. Monet had been afraid to fly much further with all the anti-aircraft guns around, and Jubilee found the whole experience rather unnerving.

Jubilee drummed her fingers against the file. She needed a plan. What would Miss Frost do? Emma had left three envelopes, with Jubilee's including the basic outline of how to catch out Shaw. But Shaw had seen them, so now what? Not to mention the rather large fireworks display Jubilee had provided inside the office. It was one thing for everyone to think she was odd, it was another to let everyone in the SOE know that she and Monet and Miss Frost by association undeniably, obviously mutants.

"Jubilee? Now what?" Monet asked.

"I - " Jubilee looked out across the rooftops towards Big Ben. The second envelope. "Whitehall. We need to see Scott Summers."

They caught a cab to Whitehall, Jubilee having decided that they needed to look as official as possible. She didn't know if they were in trouble, and just prayed that whatever Emma's letter to her husband had said had prepared him for the possibility of Jubilee showing up at his office. They had no problems getting into the War Office, but then had to figure out how to find Scott Summers.

"I don't like it here," Monet muttered.

"Why not?"

"I - my telepathy doesn't work."

"Oh, that's right," Jubilee said, "There's anti-TP blockers in here. That's kind of why Miss Frost ended up down at Baker Street."

"I was hoping to get the information out of someone's head…"

"Not this time," Jubilee said. "Guess we're going to have to do it the old fashioned way."

"That is…?"

"Ask," Jubilee said, "Excuse me, miss. We were expecting to meet with Mr Summers."

Five minutes later, they were standing in the office of Scott Summers. It was about half the size of Emma's office, and close to overflowing with paperwork. Scott leaned back in his chair.

"I'd offer you a seat, but…"

"There's not really room?"

A couple of photos stood on Scott's desk, acting as paper-weights; one with five smiling children, and one with Scott and Emma. Emma didn't keep photos of her family at work. Jubilee supposed it wasn't worth the risk. She felt comfortable here with Scott, as he was much less terrifying than his wife. Jubilee and Monet explained what had happened with Shaw and the folder and their literal flight from Baker Street. Scott looked over the few papers inside the folder and listened patiently.

"And now we're here," Jubilee said.

Scott nodded. "Did you read my letter from Miss Frost?"

"No, sir," Jubilee said, "I just sent it with the courier."

Scott nodded again and stood up. "Did Shaw know Emma was leaving last night?"

"I - I think so? Or guessed after she didn't arrive at the office this morning."

"Did he know who else was on the team?"

"Probably just Jean-Philippe. And maybe Logan? And Lady Elizabeth?"

Scott pursed his lips.

"You have a plan, monsieur?" Monet asked.

"Currently four," Scott said and sighed. "But I have a really bad feeling that we're already too late."

Scott Summers was every bit as well-connected as his wife, and easily called up a few favours, which swiftly saw the arrest of Sebastian Shaw by MI6, ensuring that he would be safely and quietly locked away and tried for high treason in time. Scott was not about to allow Shaw the satisfaction of a high-profile arrest and trial. There was a problem, however. Early that morning, Shaw had sent an encrypted telegram to France, and they had every reason to suspect that this was to his contacts at the Gestapo.

"Thank-you for your assistance," Scott said, as he returned Monet and Jubilee to the foyer of the War Office building early in the afternoon. He looked pale and stiff and somewhat absent. "You can return to work. Carry on as you were."

Monet and Jubilee slowly walked back towards Baker Street. Jubilee had it in her mind that they would eventually hop on a bus, but for now, both needed to walk.

"Did we help?" Monet asked.

"I don't know."

"What will happen to Miss Frost?"

Jubilee shrugged.

"I am sorry," Monet muttered.

"Why?" Jubilee asked, "You haven't done anything wrong."

"Maybe not," Monet said, "But we do not know which branch Shaw sent that telegram to. Regardless, word is likely to reach my brother of a band of mutants crossing France. He - " Monet sighed. "I am sorry."

"Maybe he - "

"He sold out our family, Miss Lee. He was allowing me to suffer alone. He - if he knows they are there, he will find them. I am sorry. He will not let them return."

They walked in silence past Trafalgar Square and headed up towards Piccadilly Circus. Scott Summers knew this. Maybe that's what his letter had said. How had Emma known she would be betrayed? Why didn't she have Shaw arrested before she left? Jubilee looked at Monet, who seemed smaller now. Less perfect. "I wish you knew Miss Frost better," Jubilee found herself saying. "She's bossy and kind of mean, but you really want to impress her, you know? And she - I don't know your brother, and he sounds completely rotten, and I'm sorry about your family, I really am, but you don't know Miss Frost. I don't know your brother, but I would put my money on Miss Frost any day of the week. Also, you definitely need a codename, because Monet St Croix is a totally fine rich, French-girl name, but it is not going to work in this line of business."

"Codename?"

"Yes, a codename, like, you know. Jubilee. Or Miss Frost. Or Rogue."

"I know what codename means," Monet said, her eyes glancing at boarded up shop windows. They walked past a jewellers which was only half boarded up. Necklaces and rings glittered in the window. Monet's hand moved absent-mindedly to the pendant hanging around her neck, tucked underneath her shirt. "M."

…

They arrived in what was once a busy little market town, but was now close to deserted, and those who remained were very wary of travellers. Logan found an empty barn nearby, which the team settled into for the night. It protected them from the wind and the damp, though the walls did little to keep out the cold. Remy and Rogue headed into the town to see if they could find any food, while the others found what hay remained to make the space as comfortable as possible, using a single torch to provide a little light.

Thankfully, they had landed relatively close to where they'd wanted to be, though there was still quite a lot of ground to cross before reaching their destination, and all were aware that it would take too long and they'd be much too exposed should they stay on foot.

"Hope we didn't keep you waiting," Rogue said, as she and Remy returned. Logan secured the door as best he could. With a couple of heavy hitters on the team, he wasn't so worried about them getting out if needs be, than any unwanted guests appearing during the night.

"The poor town," Remy said, taking a seat on an old crate, which groaned under his weight. "There is just nothing."

"This was all we could get," Rogue said, pulling a small loaf of bread out from under her coat. They'd brought minimal rations with them, but it was best to eat fresh food when available, and save their rations.

"We brought money," Elizabeth said.

"Money's not the problem," Remy said, "They got no food, Psylocke. You don't understand. Rationing in Britain is a feast compared to rationing here. In the last couple of weeks, I've put on weight."

Rogue tore up the bread and handed it out. "Woulda been nice to have a fire."

"We can't risk being seen."

"Ah know, but Ah'm still allowed to say it," she sat down at Remy's feet and leaning against him, finishing her ration of bread in two bites.

"Camping in the countryside, and not a bottle of wine to spare," Fantomex said, wrapping his coat around himself as he lay down. They were all exhausted after having no sleep the night before and walking all day. "What I would give for a bottle of Bordeaux…"

The team made themselves as comfortable as possible, huddling together for warmth. "You put your hands anywhere on me," Logan mumbled to Fantomex, "And I chop 'em off."

"Do not worry yourself, M. Logan," Fantomex said, "I know when I am next to a beautiful woman, and by your smell alone, I know I am not."

Gambit whispered sweet nothings to Rogue in French, Logan blocked his ears, Fantomex dreamed of sunnier days, and Emma and Elizabeth both found themselves wishing their respective husbands were there, cold, hard ground, dangerous territory and potential suicide mission be damned.

/Emma?/ Elizabeth psi-asked, wondering if she'd always been this cold.

/Mmm?/

/I think we're being followed./

/Oh darling, I'd be embarrassed if we weren't./

Betsy considered Emma's response. /Are we in immediate danger?/

/No more than any other Resistance band,/ Emma said, carefully putting up psychic walls around her mind to keep Elizabeth from prying.

/Don't bullshit me./

/Try to get some sleep./

/I can't./

/I know. Try anyway./

/How much danger, Emma?/

Emma sighed and rolled over to indicate she was ready to sleep. /I'm almost certain we've been betrayed. And to be honest, I don't completely know what that means./

/Warren…/ Elizabeth felt sick. She clenched her teeth together and wrapped her arms around herself.

/I am sorry,/ Emma repeated. She wished Scott was there to say all the correct, gentle, comforting things. /I - try to get some sleep./

…

"Do you ever dream about everything burning?" Rachel asked, staring up at the ceiling.

Kitty rolled over and looked at Rachel lying in bed on the other side of the room. "No?"

"I do."

"Like London burning? With the Blitz and all that?"

"No," Rachel said. "Everything in the whole world."

"A nightmare?" Kitty asked, not sure why Rachel was bringing this up, or where she was going with it.

"Not really. Not the dream itself. I think - it's scary because it doesn't scare me as much as I think it should."

"Well, it is just a dream. It's not real."

"I know. But how come I can see what the whole world looks like, burning?"

"Well, you know what Rivendell looks like, and the Mirkwood Forest, and hobbits and elves and dwarves. And they're just made-up places and things in a book. It's like that, I guess. Made up. A fantasy."

Rachel considered this for a moment. She rolled over towards Kitty. "That makes sense, I guess."

"Good. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Kitty rolled over towards the wall. The room was quiet, but she could almost hear Rachel thinking. "What?"

"Do you know what the universe looks like?"

"More stars?" Kitty suggested. Why couldn't Rachel ask her science questions at more convenient times?

"Sort of," Rachel responded, but she sounded further away than just a couple of feet across the room.

"Go to sleep."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight."