Alex hadn't let himself look too closely at the mansion on his first visit here. He'd been far too focused on getting the information about Scott's powers delivered. Now, though, he'd let Scott persuade him into coming here when they left the hospital -- down time, his brother had said. Down time, right. He had nothing to do here, no job, no duties. He found himself prowling the hallways, examining every portrait, every sculpture, and rearranging every bouquet.

"Would you like some tea?"

Alex jumped at the sound of the calm, British-accented voice, then turned to see Charles Xavier sitting in the doorway to what Scott had said was his office.

"I'm more of a coffee kind of guy," Alex told him. "All those late nights working on my master's thesis."

"Coffee is for working," Xavier agreed. "Tea is for relaxing."

"Like I have much reason to relax."

"And thus the afternoon tea. Join me?"

It wasn't really a request, and both men knew it. Alex gave in with as much good grace as he could manage, and followed Xavier into the room. Xavier rolled his wheelchair into a place that seemed made for it, across a carved mahogany coffee table from a leather sofa. A silver tea service rested on a small table beside the wheelchair.

Xavier picked up the teapot and poured. "When Jean was learning to control her power, I used to have her serve. Without using her hands."

Alex took the cup from him. "Oh?"

"I also had her clean up the spills." Xavier smiled with genuine fondness, and Alex couldn't help chuckling. "Of which there were many."

"No doubt." Alex took a sip, the tea not quite scalding his tongue. Maybe if he took a gulp, he'd burn the inside of his mouth enough that he wouldn't have to try to make conversation.

"The purpose of having tea is not to talk," Xavier said, and Alex glanced at him, aware that in this place Xavier could well have literally read his mind. "It is to take a break and allow the mind to rest before resuming activity."

"Rest. Right." He didn't mean to be rude, but his mind was on emotional overload. So much that he'd allowed Scott to bring him back here instead of catching the first available flight back to Phoenix. Which he should do, he knew. Two unscheduled absences in as many weeks might be difficult to explain -- especially when he couldn't simply tell the whole truth.

"It's when the mind is at rest that it processes and absorbs new experiences and information," Xavier said. Then he smiled. "Convincing Scott to sit still for tea was a challenge, too."

Alex looked around the office, trying to picture Scott sitting as he was. "I can imagine."

"He doesn't join us as often as I'd prefer," Xavier continued. "And only when he's feeling overwhelmed enough to admit that he might be having some trouble focusing."

Alex laughed. "And God forbid he ever have to admit that. I'm stubborn, but I'm not that stubborn."

Xavier merely sipped his tea. Alex recognized the tactic, but had to admit the truth.

"Okay, maybe I am," Alex admitted. "But I have a lot to process and absorb. My girlfriend is an accessory to mass murder."

"Is that all?" Xavier's tone reminded him of Scott's dry humor.

"I should be upset that she lied about being a mutant, but I didn't tell her I'm one, so that's a wash," Alex said. "I should've known something was going on."

"Should she have known you're a mutant, too?"

"Why should she? I never told anyone."

Xavier took another sip of tea.

"I get the point," Alex said. "She didn't tell me, either -- but I didn't put together where she was and when she was gone with what happened. I chose to be blind."

Alex stared into his teacup. He'd chosen to be blind about a lot of things, he knew. He'd only recently tried to see again, and though he hated to admit it, Scott had been the first light in the darkness, with his request for help understanding his new powers. Then the revelations about Lorna -- he felt like a fool.

"We can't change what we have done, only what we choose to do going forward."

Alex drained his cup. That was the question. What would he choose to do now?

Xavier set his cup aside. "Will you excuse me? Someone's arriving that I must see."

"Of course." Alex put his own cup back on the tray. He was an intruder here.

"Scott has told you the school's mission, hasn't he?" Xavier waited until Alex had risen to his feet before rolling his chair toward the door. Alex took the unspoken invitation to walk beside him.

"That's not a subject that's ever come up in conversation."

"We're a refuge from a hostile world."

Alex mulled that over as he paced Xavier down the hall. "That's a noble purpose."

"And we don't judge where someone might be a refugee from."

Two steps into the reception hall, Alex froze in place. Lorna stood there, looking nervous and pale.

- X -

Jean turned her cell phone in her hands. She should just make the call -- open the phone, find the name, and dial. It wasn't that difficult, so why was she hesitating?

She knew the answer to that. Once she called Hank, there was no going back, no changing her mind. She'd be committed to becoming the Secretary of Mutant Affairs, pending confirmation by the Senate. All those theoretical changes to her and Scott's lives would all too soon become all too real.

The phone vibrated in her hands, and she fumbled with it for a moment before recovering and answering. "Jean Grey."

"I thought I'd call and warn you." She recognized Keith Stephens' voice immediately.

"Warn me? About what?"

"The Chronicle is running a special series on the X-Men," he said. "The first article will hit Sunday, then one a day for the rest of the week."

"Oh." For a woman with an M.D. and a Ph.D., she'd gone suddenly inarticulate. A special series would be just a taste of what was to come once she began the confirmation process. "That's great. Congratulations."

"You don't sound enthusiastic. Is something wrong?"

"Just a lot on my mind at the moment." Jean leaned back in her office chair. "You'll send us copies, right?"

"I'll email the text of the articles right now. Do you want copies of the paper after they're published?"

"If Scott does, he can get them himself."

Keith laughed. "You keeping him in line?"

"You have no idea." Because that's exactly what she'd have to do, once she was confirmed. She'd have to dance the line between diplomacy and action. "But he'll be glad to get the publicity."

"These aren't puff pieces," Keith said.

"I didn't mean to imply that they are." Jean sighed. "I'm sorry, Keith. I'm putting off a call I'm not looking forward to making. I shouldn't take it out on you."

"That's what friends are for, right? To be a shoulder and a sounding board?" He didn't sound upset. "Look, quit dreading that call and make it. Then call me back and we'll commiserate together."

Jean chuckled. "Or I may hand you another scoop. You never know."

"Now you have to call back. You can't leave me hanging like that. Go make your call."

Jean knew he was right. Still, punching in Hank's private number seemed to take forever.

"McCoy."

She took a breath. No turning back now. "It's Jean. I'll do it."

- X -

"Is this a private gym, or can anyone join in?"

"I could use the help spotting Peter," Scott said from where he stood behind the bench press in answer to Alex's question. "Since the Iceman seems to think the treadmill's more important than spotting."

"He can bench almost the world record even in normal form," Bobby said between breaths and in rhythm with his running. "He drops it, we have to get Jean or Rachel to lift it with TK. Why do you even bother lifting, Pete?"

"Because," Peter said as he lifted the weight once more, "it impresses pretty girls." He lowered the weight, pressed it up. "Especially if they sit on the bar while I do it."

"Something wrong, Alex?" Scott asked. Alex hadn't even quirked a lip at the byplay between the two younger X-Men. When they were younger, Alex had always been the first to join in the fun.

"I just need to burn off some frustration," Alex replied.

Peter racked the weights with a clang and sat up. "This is the place to do it."

He wiped down the bench and gestured for Alex to take his place. "I'll spot both of you," he said. "And I'll remove the extra weights."

Scott nodded and moved to the squat rack to start loading weights onto the bar. "Have to say I'm impressed, Alex. Not even here a full day, and you're already frustrated."

Alex grunted as he took the bar in his hands. "Lorna's here."

That explained everything, Scott thought, settled his shoulders under the bar, and moved into smooth squats. "Jean said she might need some psychic therapy because of what Frost did to her."

"And -- is that -- it?" Alex asked between lifts. "Just -- therapy -- and it's all -- forgiven?"

"Not at all," Scott said. "She's here partly for the therapy, and partly because the court remanded her to the X-Men's custody."

"Remanded her --?"

"They trust our security more than theirs," Scott said. "Her arraignment's in --"

Incoming! Rachel's mental cry echoed in his mind, and he slammed the weights onto the rack.

Link us, Scott responded instantly. Including Alex.

Report, he ordered when he felt the link going live.

Drones, Logan's mental voice was terse. I can hear a dozen motors. Maybe three quarters of a mile away. Two minutes, maybe.

'Ro, I need a storm. High winds, lightning, anything you can do, Scott said. Bring as many of them down as you can.

On it, Ororo answered, though Scott felt her mentally wincing at the damage to the local weather patterns she'd have to cause to do it.

Jean, Alex -- get Charles and the kids to the jet and evacuate. After Stryker's attack, we can't count on the tunnels. He was already moving toward the elevators, Peter, Bobby, and Alex behind him. One of the benefits of the mindlink was that a full sense of what he meant went with the words, so Alex turned toward the hangar without needing to ask where it was. Defensive maneuvers and powers only.

'Ro, if you can get a break in the winds when we're ready to lift off, that would be good. Jean's mental voice was calm, and Scott sensed the others steadying and calming in the link in response to her.

Lorna as well, Charles said into the link. This isn't her fight.

Scott acknowledged that and stepped into the elevator with Peter and Bobby. Whatever was coming, he'd face the attack head on.