Not So Different: I've been compared to her for most of my life, and I'm tired of it. Now, she's dead and I'm here, practically taking her place amongst old friends. But, now I'm left wondering what was so different about us after all.

Disclaimer: I do not claim nor hope to have any ownership over the X-Men or any other hereto mentioned Marvel characters. I do, however, have claim over Mackenzie Benton, Aubrey Howell, Bernadette Benton, and any other original characters found within this work of fanfiction. Don't bother suing me – I'm poor and you couldn't squeeze anything out of me if you tried.

Rating: This story is rated T for language, pathos, and brief nudity and sexual content.

"The most terrible fight is not when there is one opinion against another, the most terrible is when two men say the same thing - and fight about the interpretation, and this interpretation involves a difference of quality." — Soren Kierkegaard


-Chapter Twenty-Eight-

"You look absolutely divine."

A flush colored my neck and raced upwards as I allowed my eyes to trail up the impeccably dressed form of one Henry McCoy. The occasion had called for evening wear, and everyone had turned out in their best. The dress that my grandmother had picked up for me was a bit different than the numerous black dresses that seemed to fill the large ballroom, but I felt both comfortable and beautiful.

"I'm so glad that the Professor decided to go ahead with this." I glanced around the large and spacious room with a smile upon my face, taking in the sight of many of the X-Men (and Jr. X-Men) intermingling with the other guests. The fundraiser, one meant to promote understanding and peace among mutants and non-mutants, had been on the calendar for two years. At the last moment, Xavier had decided to offer up a positive visual for his guests - his staff, all undeniably mutants. "I do hope the meal is good. I'm rather hungry."

With a faint smile, Hank placed his hand on the small of my back and guided me toward a small group of individuals, all of whom looked vaguely familiar. "Senators, Congressmen and ladies," he greeted, nodding at the four individuals and their companions with a genuine smile. The wife of Senator Reed stiffened slightly, her overly-done face wrinkling up. "I do believe you had the opportunity to meet Dr. Benton at the congressional hearing?"

Senator Reed smiled shakily and offered me his hand. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Ms. Benton."

"That's Dr. Benton, Senator," I quipped with a grin, shaking his hand and ignoring the clammy feel of his skin upon mine. "Mrs. Reed," I nodded at the aging woman next to him. The other Senator, Richard Wilson, and the two Congressmen, Evelyn Baxter and Eric Samson, smiled at me politely. I sensed no actual hatred from any of them, but I certainly didn't sense any vague feeling of acceptance or encouragement from any of them. Simply put, they seemed simply tolerant. "If you'll please excuse us, I'd like to make sure that my grandmother is comfortable."

Hank offered a polite farewell as I slipped my arm through his and led him to a small and private table in the far corner where my grandmother, Piotr at her side, was holding court. Her friends, admirers, associates, and even her enemies gathered around her in a large semi-circle. She was dressed in an expensive and one-of-a-kind pale lilac dress that somehow made her seem younger, more vibrant. Her hair, worn up in a dazzling updo, fanned over her face gently and added to the allure of simple beauty.

"Ah, and here she is now." Lifting a manicured hand, she waved me and Hank over, ushering for us to stand near her. She clasped my hand within hers and squeezed it affectionately before motioning broadly to two men in tuxedos that looked vaguely familiar. "Mackenzie, darling - do you happen to remember Albert and Franklin? They're brothers and operators of Smith International."

"The pharmaceutical company?" I pondered aloud, smiling when the two men nodded. I slipped my arm out of Hank's and reached forward slowly, shaking both of their hands before resting my hand lightly upon Hank's forearm. "It's a pleasure to meet you again. It's been years."

"Your grandfather's funeral, I'd speculate," Albert commented wryly, his mustache twitching as he offered an apologetic smile. "We were just discussing numbers, actually. Your grandmother does not seem all that concerned about your business causing the company's stock to plummet forty-two points in the last week."

I cringed inwardly and glanced over at my grandmother briefly, taking note of her stoic features and the faint smirk upon her lips. She was either quite annoyed or quite entertained, perhaps a mixture of the two. Her lips twisted upward slightly, but she said nothing as she inclined her head in Piotr's direction. "Would you be a dear and fetch me a glass of champagne?" she asked quietly, resting her hand upon his shoulder briefly. He nodded quickly and stood, towering over nearly everyone nearby, before slipping away, his black tuxedo blending in with the other attendees. "Albert, I'll remind you that you're attending a function that not only acknowledges mutants, but promotes peace toward them."

"Business and politics never mix well, Bernadette - a lesson I was sure you would have learned by now," Albert spat, malice written across his features.

"I would imagine that this is not the time, nor the place, for such a discussion, gentlemen." Hank, ever the smooth-talker, cleared his throat gently as Piotr wound his way back through the crowd and stood at my grandmother's side, handing her the flute of champagne with a faint nod. "The music is simply amazing, is it not, pet? Bernadette? Would you do me the honor of sharing a dance?"

As expected, her cheeks colored slightly before she nodded, placing her flute of champagne upon the table before lifting her hand. I stepped away from Hank as he swept forward grandly, taking her hand in his and tucking it into the crook of his arm. "If you'll all excuse me," she murmured as she allowed Hank to guide her through the throngs of people, disappearing onto the nearly empty dance floor.

"Of course she'd dance with that furry -" Albert cut himself off sharply as Piotr wheeled around, face blank. The man's mustache twitched as his brother grabbed him by the elbow, jerking him backwards. Albert's dark brown eyes met mine for a moment and I didn't need my telepathy to sense the disgust and absolute hatred in his gaze. I shuddered but held my gaze, praying that the annoyance wasn't written clearly across my features. "It's okay, Frank - money speaks volumes."

"I hope you both have a lovely evening," I called out after them, eyes icy. They said nothing as they hustled through the crowd, leaving Piotr and I surrounded by a murmuring group of strangers. Without hesitation, I rested my hand upon his forearm and dragged him through the crowd. The muscles in his arm tensed under my hand, but he said nothing until we were on the dance floor. "You look rather dashing this evening, Piotr," I commented wryly, causing him to blush as I slipped one hand into his and the other onto his shoulder. He fell into the position easily, grasping my hand in his and resting his hand upon my waist gently. "I hope you can waltz."

He moved with far more agility than a man his size should have been capable of. Although he was quite obviously nervous and embarrassed, he appeared calm and nonchalant as he guided me across the room, his shoulders tense and his body taut. After several minutes, he released a short sigh and his gaze finally met mine.

"You move quite well, Dr. Benton."

Managing a grin, I nodded in thanks and continued to follow his lead, my eyes scanning the dance floor. Hank and my grandmother appeared to be lost in conversation, and I spotted Aubrey and Remy dancing together, their cheeks brushing and her bright blue hair matching her bright blue dress. Jubilee, Bobby, and St. John were grouped together on the far side of the dance floor, all looking a bit out of place. Kitty, much to my surprise, was twirling around with a young man with brown hair. He wasn't familiar, but I sensed no immediate malevolent thoughts.

The music ended and Piotr and I stood side by side, applauding the small string band as they rose and bowed. I wasn't quite sure where Charles had managed to find such skilled musicians, but I was certain that I wasn't the only one that appreciated the atmosphere. "Thank you for the dance, Piotr," I murmured as I pat his forearm gently. He flushed slightly before nodding and disappearing into the crowd, probably in order to find refreshments.

I stood surrounded by strangers for several moments and strengthened my mental shields. The crowded room was filled with mental energy - a great deal of it negative. I briefly brushed against Hank's mind, slightly surprised when he informed me that he'd been paged and needed to return a phone call to the Secretary of Defense, and that he'd return momentarily. Xavier, I was a bit startled to find, was engaged in conversation with my grandmother, and brushed against my mental shields gently before promptly closing me out.

"How long are you going to just stand there?"

Surprised, I blinked and glanced up, blue eyes widening slightly at the blonde haired man, body draped delicately in a black tuxedo, grinned at me. Jaw agape, I crossed the distance between us and allowed him to pull me into his arms, hugging him tightly. "Warren! What on earth are you doing here?"

He held me at arm's length, squeezing my shoulders affectionately, before shaking his head once. He dropped his hands to his side and we walked side by side off of the dance floor, pressed somewhat close together due to the crowd. "The Professor called me a few weeks ago and asked if I could make a public appearance. So here I am."

"Even after the Cure incident?" I queried, allowing him to guide me out onto a large and spacious terrace. The night air was cool against my bare skin, but it helped to alleviate the warmth that had been caused by the crowded dance floor. "Why didn't you warn me, Warren?"

He sighed as he leaned his back against the railing, legs crossed at the ankle. "You know it's nothing personal, Mackenzie. I'm doing all that I can to sway my father's point of view, but I'm really not sure that he's ever going to change."

"Is he still upset that you help fund Xavier's?"

"Of course." Sighing, his sky blue eyes met mine, searching for something. "No matter how long it's been, he seems convinced that there's just got to be a way that I can be normal. I'm a grown man - I'm the head of Advertising and yet it feels like I'm still a little ten year old boy."

My first instinct was to heal, and I rested my fingers upon his forearm briefly before shaking my head. I hadn't been able to reach Warren since the incident at his company's secret facility on Alcatraz Island, and part of me wasn't even really sure what to say. The friendship that we'd began as students at Xavier's had continued through college, as we'd had a lot in common and had always traveled in similar circles. During my residency, we'd even tried dating for all of two months before realizing it had been far too weird, despite everything.

"One of these days it's not going to be one of those gossip fodder magazines that catches sight of you, Warren." It was a warning- cloaked in advice. "One of these days your terrible little secret is going to get out and your only choice will be to roll with the punches."

"Oh, you mean like announcing it to hundreds of strangers at a conference - a conference that was later aired across the world?" Rolling his eyes, he sighed yet again, his gaze drifting away from mine. His tuxedo looked impeccable - probably Armani - and rippled slightly with every movement. "I do what I can, when I can."

It was an argument that we'd had numerous times over the years, and yet I couldn't bring myself to throw the same old facts in his face. The night was too lovely, too important, for such juvenile accusations. Instead, I merely sighed, releasing the frustration, and stared at his profile in concern. "Then you probably shouldn't be at this benefit. You know as well as I do that -"

"I've been a promoter of peace ever since I first stepped into the public spotlight, Mac." Clearly annoyed, he straightened suddenly, brushing his fingertips over the lapel of his tuxedo jacket jerkily. "There's absolutely nothing wrong with me being here. In fact, it's good for the company's public image."

I brushed up against him with my TK and saw him visibly wince as he straightened his shoulders reflexively. "That's not good for them, you know," I found myself whispering, voice low and laced with sadness. His gaze met mine again and I searched their blue depths for some sign of the man that had once been so jovial and carefree during his weekends at the Institute. "What happened to the boy that used to charge a date for a flight around the Grounds?"

Face devoid of emotion, he glanced away and headed back toward the open glass doors, arms at his side. As he reached the door, he stopped, my gaze on his back. "He grew up and realized that life isn't as carefree as he'd like it to be." Wordlessly, he slipped back into the crowded room, disappearing through the dancing couples.

I stared at the sea of unfamiliar faces for a long moment before I turned on my heel, eyes focused but unseeing. Below the balcony laid beautiful gardens and a large fountain that was, no doubt, admired by many. It was a relaxing sight, but it did little to ease the tenseness in my shoulders and neck. Something just felt a little off.

"Was that Warren?" I glanced over my shoulder, a smile adorning my face, as Hank bustled out onto the balcony. He looked a little flustered, distracted. "Sorry about my brief absence, pet. There is a bit of a situation that requires my so-called expertise. I've been called to Washington."

Confused, I peered up at him curiously as I turned on my heel, ignoring the feel of the cool railing pressed against my back. "What is it, Hank? What's happened?"

His lips thinned slightly as he gently took me by the elbow and led me back inside and onto the dance floor. He was quiet until we reached the corner that my grandmother had occupied- I was surprised to find that she was still engaged in conversation with Xavier at a small table in the corner. "The facility that was holding Magneto was breached twelve hours ago. The President wants it kept under wraps; I've been asked to oversee the investigation."

"Why?" I prompted even as he steered me toward Xavier. I sat down next to my mentor, sitting on the edge of the chair and leaning forward as though planning to jump out of my seat at any given moment. With a worn smile, Hank leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to my forehead before turning and offering Xavier his hand. "When will you be back?"

"Well, I'm not quite sure," he murmured, lips thinned in thought. "I had hoped that -"

"Excuse me."

The four of us glanced over in confusion as a man interrupted the private conversation. He emerged from the crowd gracefully, his body lean and tall. He was dressed in slightly out of date attire, and looked far too pale to be perfectly healthy. But, it was his eyes that caused me to shudder involuntarily - they were pitch black.

"Dr. Benton - it's so lovely to finally meet you in person." Without prompting, he crossed the distance between us and took my hand in his, kissing the back of it. His lips were cold and the touch was so impersonal and clinical that I jerked my hand back reflexively, eyes locked onto his. He smiled, his lips curling back to reveal perfect white teeth. "I had hoped that Miss Frost would accompany you tonight, but I suppose that a challenge is always welcomed."

I rose to my feet sharply, sending my chair toppling back. But, before I could reply, absolute chaos took the event by storm. Within mere seconds, the situation was completely out of control.

Magneto.