: TWIST OF FATE :
PART THREE: CHICAGO
(14) - Family -
With morning came the certain sense that what had been witnessed the night before was nothing more than a dream.
Down underground, it was difficult to tell the difference between day and night, but the truth still held. Logan woke up like he always did after a bad night. It didn't matter whether it was a skinful of alcohol, or a fight that had turned nasty. By the following morning he'd never even have the scars or the hangover to prove it'd all been real.
And let's face it, it ain't everyday I take down a fuckin' Sentinel, he thought to himself.
Especially not with a slippery Cajun thief named Gambit.
If he hadn't been able to smell the snake's testosterone and cologne on the leather jacket hanging by the door, he definitely would've thought it'd all been just a dream.
Logan looked over at the battered, analogue alarm clock he'd rescued from the gutted remnants of a hardware store on the first floor of the mall years ago. Just coming up to eight. Way past time to be up.
He usually got up early, but this time he had an ulterior motive for doing so. He had a feeling Jubilee wouldn't be best pleased by the fact that he had spent most of last night out on another one of his death wishes, and he didn't want to have to explain to her about the Sentinel, or Rogue, or Gambit. He figured he'd let them break the news to her. It'd have to come at some point anyhow.
No such luck.
By the time he got down to the kitchen she was already there, as if she'd been waiting to jump him.
"Oh for Chrissakes, Jubes, I ain't in the mood," he grumbled, going for the kettle because the coffee machine had died about a year ago.
"Is it true?" the Asian girl asked as if she hadn't heard a word he'd said. "Do we have new recruits?"
There was a thread of excitement running through her voice; they hadn't had anyone join up in a fair while. It took Logan a while to analyse the situation. Of course, dumbass that he was, he'd forgotten to factor in that Jubilee was sleeping with Synch and that Synch had seen Logan giving Rogue and Gambit their tour yesterday. Which meant that word had spread faster than he'd intended. But he was willing to count his small blessings. At least Jubes had forgotten about being pissed at him.
"It's a bit too hasty to call 'em recruits," he muttered, pouring hard water from the tap into the kettle and switching it on. "For now, they're guests."
"Stop beatin' around the bush, Wolvie," Jubilee persisted with her usual voracious greed for the latest gossip. "Who are they?"
Logan pulled a face. Here it came.
"Rogue and Gambit."
Jubilee took this in for a moment. She leaned against the counter and whistled.
"Real X-Men. Cool."
Wolverine gave her a look. There were some days he just really didn't get his petite though spunky young ward. Of course, he thought of her as young, not only because everyone was young to him, but because in his mind she was always going to be that pugnacious teenage mallrat. She wasn't that anymore – far from it. But she wore the mask of it very well. It was just a defence mechanism and they both knew it. Neither of them talked about it though.
"What d'you mean 'real X-Men'?" he growled in his just-woken-up-and-not-taking-any-shit voice.
"I mean real X-Men," she explained, as though talking to the world's prize dumbass. "As in, from the Xavier school. Apart from you and Betsy, we ain't got anyone else here who's genuine, minted, purebred X-Man."
The kettle clicked. Logan poured a coffee.
"You mean you count Gambit as an X-Man?" he grunted. "He was only at the school for a year."
"He was still an X-Man," Jubilee contested with a roll of the eyes. "As for me and Ev and the Frost… we were all from the Massachusetts Academy. Totally second-class."
Logan stared at her incredulously over the rim of his cup.
"Where do you get this bullshit?" he wondered out loud. "You're as good as anyone. B'sides, you were at the Westchester school too."
"Yeah, but then I got shipped off to the academy for nut jobs." Jubilee stuck out her lower lip.
"'Cos you were a kid," Logan reminded her pointedly.
"Yeah," she muttered. "Exactly."
Logan sighed. Jubilee had always straddled that odd border of child-woman to him. She'd never fit in, neither at the Xavier school or the Academy. She was peevish, argumentative and street-smart. At the same time she had experienced real pain in her life – the early loss of her parents – and this had given her a depth of character most kids didn't possess. Now she was a woman. And now she was just like any other mutant in the country today – someone who had suffered, someone who'd had to grow up before their time. She fit in now. They all did. And Jubilee being Jubilee, she rebelled. All the damn time.
Logan drained the rest of his cup in a gulp and slapped it down on the counter.
"Better go and check on them."
Jubilee was up like a shot.
"Can I come?"
He was already at the door.
"No. Even if they're up, I doubt they'll be wantin' you jumpin' around the doorway gettin' all excited and askin' them twenty questions. You'll meet 'em when they're ready. And that's an order," he added as a stern afterthought, just as he knew she was about to follow him.
He didn't even turn to see the pout he knew was marring her mouth at that very moment. He felt pretty sure there was a stuck out tongue in the mix as well.
Rogue was already up, unpacking one of two bags she had with her, no Gambit in sight. When she saw him there in the doorway, she smiled at him. A genuine smile. He was glad to see it. The way she'd been last night, he was beginning to be afraid she'd forgotten how to smile at all.
"Logan," she greeted him with real affection. He nodded by way of reply, but a smile touched his lips nevertheless.
"Up early," he noted. "You sleep okay?"
"Yup." She nodded. "Like the proverbial log. But you know Remy. He can't stay in bed unless he has somethin' to occupy him. Other than his thoughts, that is."
He raised an eyebrow.
"That so?" he asked witheringly. She laughed.
"He don't sleep much. Kinda hard for me to stay asleep sometimes when he's up and about or… y'know…" She trailed off, smiled, looked up at him over a pile of clothes. "Thanks so much for the room, Logan. It's perfect."
He knew what she meant. Thanks for accommodating Gambit too. Yeah. He didn't like it. But it was what it was.
"Always have rooms ready for guests," he answered, coming fully into the room and shrugging as she moved over to the chest of drawers nearby.
"You get many?" she asked in an off-hand voice tinged with hope. He understood that too. If the answer to her question was yes, it meant there were more out there. Mutants.
"No," he admitted. It was the answer she'd been expecting. She didn't even pause as she pulled open the drawers and placed in the clothes. When she turned back to the bag there was efficiency in her movements. She moved like a woman who was confident – weary even – in her own body.
"So," she began again conversationally, "that's what we are to you? Just guests?"
"You're always more than welcome to stay for the duration," he replied pointedly, and she stopped and glared at him. Hard.
"Remy comes in the bargain. No questions asked," she told him in that soft-dangerous voice he remembered so well. His smile was lop-sided.
"I kinda figured."
She relaxed and busied herself with unpacking once more.
"So," he continued the conversation casually. "How long have you two been together then? You and the Cajun?"
It was her turn to give a wry smile.
"That ain't an easy question to answer," she replied. "Long enough."
"And you can touch."
She raised her eyes to his, briefly.
"Yes."
He whistled.
"What'd it take?"
"Nearly dyin'." Her tone was sober now. "Thinkin' everyone else was dead and Ah had nothin' else to lose. That and about two years of Mystique's trainin'."
Somehow he wasn't surprised to hear that.
"So you went back to the Brotherhood?"
"Ah didn't have a choice." She stopped, placed down a pile of clothes and looked him in the eye again. "Raven rescued me from the mansion that day. Ah was half dead. Ah woke up six months later to a world where everyone was gone and the world had turned to shit."
So that was how it was. Logan swallowed the bitterness in his throat. She'd almost died, woken up into a world that was a nightmare. She'd been abandoned by everyone she'd known and loved, had been left in the hands of that crazy bitch, Mystique. What came after, he wasn't sure he wanted to know.
"Damn," he swore under his breath. "If I'd known…"
"Remy said the same thing," she said, turning back to the clothes. He shut his mouth at that. All the signs had told him that they were tight. He wasn't sure whether he was glad or not to know it.
"So when did the Cajun come into the picture?" he couldn't help asking.
"About two years after I woke up."
He raised an eyebrow.
"Long time," he remarked.
"Don't get the wrong idea," she informed him humorously. "We weren't ever together in the sense you're thinking. Not back at the outset, anyhow."
"Ha!" His voice was sarcastic. "I wouldn't expect anythin' less from the Cajun. Although it amazes me that somewhere along the line, he allowed it to get serious. It amazes me even more that you learned to trust him."
She paused again and looked up at him seriously.
"Ah love him," she told him simply, with a finality that suggested it should explain everything and more. He was unimpressed.
"Hmph. And how long did it take you to work that one out, stripes?"
She shot him a quizzical look and he continued: "You were in love with him the first moment you laid eyes on him. Even I coulda told you that one."
"So why didn't you?" she asked curiously.
"'Cos love is blind, stripes," he replied. "And I ain't."
The conversation was curtailed by Gambit's sudden entry into the room.
"You ain't what?" he asked instead of a greeting, walking straight up to Rogue and touching her briefly, on the shoulder, before moving on to the nightstand and dumping his keys and wallet there.
"Blind, Gumbo," Logan returned gruffly, unable to help the edge coming back into his voice. "And I can see right through you."
"Logan…" Rogue began warningly, but Remy cut her off saying:
"Non, let him say what he has to, chere. I can take it. Can't be any worse den anyt'ing else anyone's said about me."
"No," she levelled out again, but the bait had been set and Logan was more than happy to take it.
"You may have charmed Rogue, Cajun," he snarled menacingly. "But even if she trusts you, I don't. Just remember that, bub."
"So tell me somet'ing new," Remy threw back sarcastically. "Seem to recall you said exactly de same t'ing to me, what, eight years ago? More den once. S'like I said – not'ing I ain't heard before."
"Ah'll tell you somethin' new," Rogue cut in calmly. "If you boys don't calm the fuck down, Ah'm gonna drain you both so dry your head will spin."
There was a silence, during which Logan looked stunned and Remy's grin grew to gargantuan proportions. Rogue looked perplexed, befuddled and embarrassed in turns. At last she opened her mouth and exclaimed: "Oh mah Gawd, that came out soundin' sooooo wrong!"
Gambit laughed loud. "Don't worry none, chere," he bantered, walking past her to the door and winking at her as he did so. "You can drain me dry any time you want. I'd be interested t' know how much it takes t' get my head t' spin though. Guess it's something we can work on later."
He stopped in the doorway as she stuck her tongue out at him, which he ignored completely.
"Wanna coffee? I'm gonna go get some."
"Whatever," she tossed back and he shrugged, turned and left.
"Prick," she muttered, after he'd gone.
"Nice to know some things don't change," Logan observed dryly.
"Yeah," she snorted.
"I mean it, Rogue," he insisted, this time seriously. "If he ain't treatin' you right…"
"Oh, don't start again, Logan!" she exploded, going back to her unpacking with a vexed look on her face. "Ah'm happy! What've Ah got to do to convince you? Start playin' R.E.M. and dancing round the place throwin' flowers around or somethin'?"
"You're not happy," he disagreed, giving voice to the vibe he'd been getting ever since he'd first laid eyes on her again. "You can't fool me on that score, Rogue. Something's weighing on you hard, I can feel it."
She didn't look at him; but her shoulders sagged. It was enough to tell him he'd hit a sore spot.
"It ain't Remy," she said in a small voice. "He's the one thing that makes me happy."
"So what is it?"
She looked up at him then, letting it show on her face then. Her brow furrowed, her lips went tight and thin.
"It's… it's a long story."
"It's been eight years, stripes," he told her softly. "Figure another half hour or so won't make much difference."
So she told him. Right from the beginning, when she'd woken up in the Brotherhood headquarters when her old life had ended, to the day that Rachel had left. And when she was done, he felt more guilty than ever that he hadn't even tried to look for her. To protect her, as he'd always sworn to do.
"Rachel," was all he said when she was finished and the silence fell.
"Yeah," she sighed. "Ah can accept everythin' else. But what Ah did to her, and where she is now… Ah'm finding it real hard to deal with that."
"Any idea where she was headed?" he asked her, after a moment's thought. Rogue shook her head.
"She didn't say anythin' to me. She could be anywhere."
Gambit returned, two cups of coffee in hand.
"New York," was all he said as he came in. Logan gave him a sharp look.
"What makes you say that?"
The Cajun shrugged, handed Rogue her drink.
"Just a hunch. If I was in her shoes, I'd probably wanna go get some payback from Ahab. Second, she ain't got no ties to anywhere else."
"But she knows Logan's here," Rogue protested. "We told her."
"But Kate Pryde was her best friend," Remy reasoned, looking at her.
"Waitaminnit," Logan interrupted, his ears perked up at the mere mentioning of her name. "You know where Kate is?"
"Kinda." Gambit's look was expressionless, the kind of poker face that said he knew more than he was letting on. "I know she's incarcerated in an internment camp in New York. Whereabouts, or which one, I ain't gotta clue."
Rogue's face had also gone still.
"You never told me this," she murmured. He shrugged again.
"Never came up. B'sides, our plan was t' come here. Rachel made her choice. She didn't want us to follow."
"Where did you find this information?" Logan interjected, uninterested in any other details. Again, there was that same carefully placed poker face.
"Saw it on a database I hacked into once. Didn't have time to get de details."
There was silence. Logan didn't believe a word of Gambit's explanation, and looking at Rogue, if she knew the truth, he could tell she wasn't willing to impart it either. Fair enough. He moved onto the next conundrum.
"You told me you absorbed her," he addressed Rogue directly. "You think you could tap into her psyche, figure out what kinda destination she had in mind?"
Rogue looked a little taken aback by the suggestion. It was a look that told him it was something she hadn't really thought about doing before.
"Sorry, Logan," she replied slowly. "My powers don't work like that. Ah guess Ah could tap into her psyche, but the imprint is an old one. It wouldn't give any insight into Rachel's present actions."
"Technically," Gambit spoke up jokingly, "you could tap into her time powers and take us all de way back in time to ask her."
Logan was interested to see Rogue actually baulk at the suggestion. Whatever the Cajun had said, it had hit a raw spot.
"It ain't funny, Cajun," she muttered, looking wounded. "Messin' around with time… It's dangerous."
"You seem pretty sure of that," Logan said, before Gambit could protest that his comment had only been a joke. Rogue hesitated.
"Ah tried to use her powers, Logan," she answered presently. "And what Ah saw…" She shuddered, as if to shake away something sinister and unseen. "Yah don't know what it's like," she continued in a low voice. "Seein' it. The fabric of everythin'." Up till that moment she had been holding her arms tight round her, but now she opened them, spread out her hands to her side. "It's all around us. Ah'm touchin' it right now. It flows through all of us… draws us together… repels us… drags us along with the tide."
"What is it?" Logan questioned, and she hugged herself tight again, murmured, "The Timestream."
"And Rachel can manipulate it?" he probed.
"Yes."
"So we can go back?"
Again, she hesitated.
"Y-yes. In a way. But really it's just like going sideways. You go back, you change somethin'. You end up makin' a new future. A parallel universe, Ah guess you could call it."
"And you can go back to where you started? To whatever started this timeline, I mean?"
She thought about it.
"Ah guess it's possible." She looked up at him in sudden alarm. "Ah hope you ain't askin' me t' do that, Logan. Because Ah can't and Ah won't."
Gambit, who'd been listening to the whole thing quietly, stirred.
"You tried to once," he observed in a low voice that was full of meaning.
"Because Ah had nothin' left," she shot back at him with a hint of irritation.
"Nothin' left but you, me, and paradise," he returned with a wry smile.
"Ah was wrong," she said firmly. "Ah know that now."
The glance he sent her was half-questioning, half-injured. It was a by-play Logan wasn't particularly interested in.
"I can see now why Mystique wanted her so bad," he commented thoughtfully. "What do you reckon Irene saw for her in her prophecies? There are a lotta ways for someone to be the saviour of the human race. And Rachel never struck me as that kinda kid. Sure she was Scott and Jean's daughter, but she was too withdrawn, too sullen… too messed up…"
Rogue shook her head apologetically.
"Ah don't have a clue what Irene figured she'd do. She talked about the Phoenix. But she never really explained to me exactly what it is. Apart from…"
She trailed off, uncertain, and Logan couldn't help but jump right in there.
"Apart from what?"
But Rogue was tight lipped. She shook her head again.
"It's nothin'."
It was just at that perfect moment that Jubilee decided to make her appearance, poking her head round the door in an exact facsimile of what she used to do back at the mansion.
"So this is where you've been hiding!" she greeted the newcomers with her usual childish pretence at being the person she'd been a decade ago; Logan groaned loudly.
"Jubes, didn't I tell ya to stay outta this? Couldn't y' have tried it for at least another five minutes?"
"Whatever, old man," she smirked at him, walking in the room, staring about her, and pulling a face at the décor, all in the space of a second or so. "I ain't a kid anymore."
"So stop actin' like one," he grumbled; as usual she was ignoring him.
"Rogue!" she screamed theatrically. "It's been, like, eons since I saw you last! Yeah, and you too," she added, looking at Gambit like the jury was still out on him, unchanged after an interval of nearly ten years.
"Jubilee." Rogue stepped forward and enfolded her in a hug; Logan sensed that she was glad to change the subject. "So good to see you again, sugah. Ah was worried about you."
"Worried?" The younger woman broke away, looked up into Rogue's green eyes. "What for? How'd you know I was even alive?"
Rogue paused, glanced at the ceiling as though remonstrating with herself for being so blindingly stupid.
"Sorry," she apologised with a sigh. "Ah forgot. Ah absorbed Devereux. The guy who brought you here? That's how Ah knew you were alive. Somehow Ah've been havin' a li'l trouble keepin' all these psyches and my own mem'ries straight…"
Jubilee's expression changed. The mask dropped, the face went staid, quiet. It didn't happen often, but it happened then and she couldn't hide it.
"Oh. Gotcha. That's how you figured out where to find us," she said in a voice that tried to sound light but didn't quite succeed. Logan couldn't help feeling for her. He knew his young protégé felt uncomfortable that Rogue knew something – however small – of her former life. Unlike the others, Jubilee had been careful to draw a line between what she was then and what she was now. She couldn't deal with what had happened to her back in the internment camp – her way of coping was to cut it all out, to be the girl she'd been when everything was all right. Whatever 'all right' meant.
"C'mon," he spoke, deciding to change the topic before things got awkward. "Think it's time I took you down to see the others."
"Yes!" Jubilee exclaimed, all smiles again in a flash. "Let's go see the others!"
And she'd whisked Rogue out before any objection could be made.
-oOo-
The others were already sat around the kitchen table in various states of wakefulness.
Each looked up with undisguised interest at the new additions to their little family. Synch, who was now sitting over a bowl of cereal and a glass of orange juice, had evidently informed the others of the newcomers. Betsy Braddock wore the same regal calm she always did, tempered only by the faintest shade of curiosity in her deep, violet blue eyes; Emma Frost looked on with an expression of haughty mistrust. There were mixed feelings all round – a sense of oddness, a disjointedness. It wasn't unusual. Whenever someone new turned up, Logan had noticed it was always the same. It was always a question of are you who you say you are, and how did you get here, and can you be trusted? It wasn't anything personal. It was just what years of bitter strife had taught them.
"Guess I don't need introductions," he'd stated gruffly. "Everyone here knows each other. Knew each other. Whatever."
Psylocke smiled. It was the kind of smile that was wry rather than all-out friendly. She was probably remembering the fact that Gambit had made a point of harassing her when he'd first joined the X-Men. Well, maybe 'harassing' wasn't strictly accurate. There'd been something of a flirtation on both sides. The power play between Betts and the Cajun had lasted about a week before they'd both got bored of it. Betsy had always known how to play the game. It was Rogue who hadn't. Back then she had been untouchable. Gambit had never tired of her. Mind you, even now he hadn't. Logan wondered what that meant.
"You got them shipped in and you didn't say anything?" Emma asked in her most disapproving tone. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Emma was usually disapproving about something.
"They weren't shipped in," Logan replied nonchalantly. Emma shot a suspicious glance in Gambit's direction.
"You found us?" she remarked incredulously.
"We found Logan," Gambit corrected her with a lift of the shoulders. "Kinda, anyway. We pinpointed where he could be. Process of elimination. Dat and Rogue absorbin' de right people."
"Oh." Emma looked at them both down her nose – difficult considering they were standing up and she was sitting down, but she managed it. "Sounds like you put a lot of effort in. And went through a lot of risks. I'm guessing you got out of the New York City? That can't have been easy."
Logan shifted uneasily. He could always count on Emma to give the newbies a hard time.
"Calm it, Emma," he cut in quickly. "They're cool."
"And you know that how?" she returned testily.
"They're X-Men." And that should have been enough. If Xavier had seen fit to trust them, he had to have faith in that. He didn't have a lot else these days. "The Cajun also helped take down a Sentinel last night."
"What?!" both Jubilee and Synch cried in disbelieving unison. Psylocke gave that curl of a half-smile again.
"That would explain the news reports," she murmured appreciatively.
"No freakin' way," Synch declared on the tail end of her comment. "It's not possible."
Gambit smiled smugly and Logan let him have it, even though he'd technically cheated.
"Was easy. All I needed was to get in close; close enough to charge it."
"Yeah, and you woulda ended up bein' toast if I hadn't come in when I did," Logan growled at him, deciding he wasn't going to let him have all the glory after all. "Not to mention that contraption you had. Speaking of," he added as an afterthought, "think Emma could take a look at it?"
The Cajun glanced at Rogue as though to seek permission and she nodded. He dipped into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out the small chip, handed it to Emma. She took it, twisted it between her fingers.
"What is it?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.
"It masks the X-gene from artificial sensors," Rogue explained. "Forge made them."
Emma's glance was sharp.
"You mean they disrupt the Sentinel's sensors?"
"Uh-huh." Rogue nodded. "And any other mechanical sensors in use right now. Doesn't work with Hounds though. That's the one drawback."
Emma looked impressed. She held the chip to the light and studied it.
"Think you can back-engineer it?" Logan questioned her.
"Hm." For the first time in a while the White Queen looked doubtful. "It's a Forge original. It's bound to be complex. I can give it a go though." She looked over at the Southern couple who stood near the door. "You mind if I take a closer look at it?"
Rogue shrugged.
"Sure."
Emma pocketed the device without a word of thanks and stood, picking up her coffee.
"I suppose the two of you might be useful after all," she remarked sardonically, before sweeping out the door with the air of leaving behind a gathering of unworthy subjects.
"And I thought Scott Summers had a stick shoved up his ass," Rogue commented hotly under her breath, which made Jubilee snort loudly.
"She's all right," Logan assured her flippantly. "Time ain't been kind to her either, stripes. Besides, we need her. She's the only tech person we have right now. And she ain't bad with the intel either."
"Doubly useful," Betsy observed with that same calm wryness. "That pulls a lot of weight round here."
"Yeah," Logan added seriously. "We ain't got a lotta resources here; not a lotta manpower either. You wanna stay here, you gotta be useful. Like Betsy says, you gotta pull your weight."
"That ain't a problem," Rogue answered right off the bat; Gambit said nothing. Logan stared at him. Hard.
"Gumbo?"
"I'll do anyt'ing you want," the wily Cajun replied with a small smile. "On one condition."
Here it comes, Logan thought irritably. Always a catch. He glowered.
"What?"
And the Cajun's smile widened into a grin.
"You stop callin' me dat goddamn name."
-oOo-
Emma was sitting at her cobbled-together workstation, a complex but makeshift array of computers and communication devices. She didn't look up as Logan walked in, absorbed as she seemed to be in Forge's masking device.
"So whaddaya think?" he asked her, leaning up against one of the few surfaces he knew she didn't mind him touching.
"Well, it's reproducible," she replied, casting him a sidelong glance just to make sure he wasn't handling anything he shouldn't. "You should give me a couple of months though. Anything made by the Maker is bound to be more complex than it seems."
"I don't mean that," Logan rejoined with a wave of his hand. "I meant the new guys."
She looked at him fully then.
"Oh."
"You read anythin'?" he asked.
"Why?" She raised a well-marked eyebrow in the way only Emma Frost could – with a whole wealth of sarcastic meaning. "You don't trust them?"
Logan shrugged.
"Don't we always scan the newbies?"
"True." Emma's eyebrow lifted still higher. "But then we don't often get ex-X-Men."
He said nothing. That was beside the point and she knew it. She sighed, set down Forge's gadget, and swivelled round in her chair to face him.
"Rogue's clean. There's something… worrying her. But other than that, I'm not detecting any signs of deceit from her. As an aside," and a monitor at her side started buzzing, which she silenced with the press of a button, "her mind's in better shape now than it's ever been. Neat. Tidy. Not a sign of the crazy psyche issues she used to have. She seems to have gained full control."
"Glad t' hear it," Logan replied with equal sarcasm. "What about the Cajun?"
Emma half-smiled.
"You're expecting me to have a definite answer for someone who shields better than your average superstar nickelback."
Logan grunted. It was the news he'd been expecting.
"How is that possible?" he queried. Emma sighed.
"I'm guessing it's a kinetic field he puts up. It doesn't block his thoughts exactly. Just throws up a kind of static that's difficult to penetrate. The most I can get is a flavour of his thoughts."
"And they are?"
"Neutral. The shields he puts up are done consciously, but I get the feeling he's been putting them up for so long he's almost unaware he does it. What I'm saying is, if you're expecting me to tell you that he's here with less than good intentions, I can't oblige you, Logan. I couldn't tell you anything. He's just too good at hiding his thoughts, even his emotions."
Logan nodded absently. It was what Xavier had always said. He'd just had this vain hope that things might be different now, though he didn't know why.
"Any intel?" he asked instead.
Emma swivelled round in her chair again and tapped a key, bringing a screen to life.
"Not as such. Since he came here, he's been in regular contact with someone via mobile satellite communications. But whoever that person is has scrambled all the data. And they're good at what they do. I can't get a look in."
Now that was something concrete. Finally.
"Keep an eye on it," Logan decided after a moment. "Let me know if you get anything."
Emma passed him that look again.
"You're assuming that whoever he's in contact with is someone who doesn't have our best interests at heart. For all you know, it could be family – someone from the Thieves Guild."
"Maybe," Logan conceded doubtfully. "Or a handler. Or a quartermaster. Or an agency contact."
Emma rolled her eyes.
"Getting a little paranoid now are we, Logan?"
"Maybe," he said again. "But as things stand, I'm not sure I want anyone – whatever their intentions – knowing anything about us."
"I see," Emma pondered, realising his track of thought. "And somehow Rogue and Gambit managed to find us."
"Yeah. And I have this gut feeling that whoever Gambit is in contact with is somehow responsible. An information broker par excellence. And I'm really hoping they're on our side and not on anyone else's."
-oOo-