A/N: Thanks again for the reviews, folks, and get ready for some more drama under London's rain.

Chapter 25 - Lies

The Hellfire Club, New York.

Manhattan's sky was still dark when Selene returned from her night hunt. Since the beginning of the government's crusade against mutant-gene carriers, it had become harder to find mutants wandering around the city to feed from.

Tonight, she had been lucky. There had always been rumors about a community of mutants living in the sewers -the Morlocks, they were called- and the Black Queen had finally discovered their hiding place. She had consumed the vital energy of a young female who had been a couple of tunnels apart from her chosen family, to her misfortune. The teenager reeked of anger and rage - emotions that had attracted Selene in the first place. The girl had proved to be a decent charge for the Black Queen. If her memory didn't fail her, the Morlock said her name was Marrow.

Selene was feeling renewed. Her life force had been reestablished, but the pleasure she had sensed… it hadn't been comparable. As a matter of fact, no other vital energy could be compared to the one possessed by the woman she had found in the X-Men's headquarters - and the Black Queen had drained plenty of other mutants for comparison during the centuries she had lived.

Frost had pointed her in the baby's direction; the female had just happened to be an unexpected but welcomed surprise. She was called Jean - the Black Queen recalled the furry doctor screaming her name. She was powerful, much more than her delicate frame let on. Even unconscious, the mutant had resisted Selene's strike longer than her victims usually did. And judging by the fact that she had been near the children and had created a force field around them -not to mention the matching hair color- Selene supposed this Jean woman was the girl's mother.

The baby was small - probably a newborn. The Black Queen remembered how the Hellfire Club had received intel about a woman carrying Wolverine's child in her womb. That had been months ago. Putting two and two together, Selene concluded the girl had to be Jean's and Wolverine's offspring - which meant she was powerful. The Black Queen would have her, whatever the costs may be.

The ancient mutant was licking her lips in anticipation when the White Queen and the White Bishop marched into the living room, followed by Havok and Polaris. The couple's eyes seemed devoid of emotion; their minds bore no free will.

"Where are you taking these two?" Selene asked with interest.

"To Xavier's school. We'll use them to try to find out where the rest of the X-Men are," Emma explained.

"Let me know when you're done with them," the brunette said, studying Alex's figure with expectancy.

"You cannot have them yet, Selene. The King's orders were strict," Pierce responded.

"I'm aware of that," she grinned. "But a girl can dream, can't she?"

"Speaking of orders, Shaw wants you to recruit a new ally to occupy the Black Bishop's position. Xavier's trick has left Leland useless to our cause," Frost informed her.

"It's not as if the fat old bastard was much of a use before," the Black Queen pondered with mockery. "Tell Sebastian I'll find him another Bishop."

"Tell him yourself, witch," Emma replied without any pretense of being fond of her opposite. "But do it quickly - Shaw has a meeting with Kelly in one hour," she added, telepathically commanding the two X-Men to follow her out of the manor.

"Don't forget our deal, Frost," Selene shouted to the other woman.

The White Queen didn't bother to look back; instead, she chose to respond inside of Selene's mind. 'The baby girl is all yours, as long as you leave Summers' little brat to me.'

Asteroid M, Somewhere in the Earth's Orbit.

"Dude, Rogue's like, totally on fire today!" Jubilee cheered excitedly amidst the small crowd.

"Humph. She's liking de attention a little too much for dis Cajun's taste," Remy complained.

Acolytes, X-Men and some other mutant refugees were gathered in the cafeteria around a metal table, watching Rogue arm-wrest against the Kleinstock brothers. The thing was, she was wrestling each one of them with one of her arms, at the same time. And she was winning.

Sven was the first to be defeated. Anna used her right arm to push the man's arm down and soon ended the first part of the combat. After that, she focused all her strength in bringing Harlan's arm down with her left one. Piece of cake.

"Sorry, sugahs… Momma Rogue nevah joins a competition to lose," she teased the acolytes under the loud boos and excited claps from the audience.

"Losing is part of life. Perhaps a stronger adversary could teach you how to deal with defeat," she heard a strong male voice speaking from the middle of the crowd.

Rogue stood from her chair and narrowed her eyes, moving her head from one side to the other in search of the voice's owner. "Who said that? I don't see any strongah adversaries 'round heah."

A tall, extremely muscular young man stood up from a far away bench and smiled. "How about me, tovarich?"

Anna looked him over from head to toe, smiling back. "Now you look like a real challenge. Come'ere, handsome," she signaled with her index finger for him to get closer, receiving an annoyed glare from Gambit. She ignored it, and the big man acquiesced. "What's yoah name, sugah?"

"I'm Piotr," he took her gloved hand in his and kissed it politely.

"Hmm… It means Petah in Russian, right?" She asked, and he nodded. "Let's see what ya' got, big guy," she motioned for him to sit across the table.

Rogue's fingers firmly closed around Colossus' hand while his own big fingers gripped her right hand. Soon, the acolyte known as Frenzy signaled for the arm-wrestling to begin. The X-Man's arm quickly descended forward, bringing Peter's arm towards the table's surface; the Russian was caught in surprise, not expecting such a brute display of strength from the apparent frail woman. He decided to put up a fight, struggling to raise Rogue's arm a few inches. She let him, giving a short grin.

"Is this the best ya' can do, Petey?" She teased, easily pushing their arms downwards again.

"My best… has yet to be shown," Colossus' replied, using all his strength to force his arm up, all the while changing his massive body into organic steel. With the transformation, the feet of the chair he was sitting on gave away, and he had to stand up to avoid falling. His arm bent in the opposite direction, and it was Rogue's turn to break a sweat.

"Hey! That's not fair," she yelled, also standing up.

"Why not, tovarich? Isn't this about us demonstrating our mutant powers?" Piotr said with a wry smile.

The wrestling went on, the combat now much more balanced, prompting the audience to cheer in excitement. Xavier, however, didn't feel so thrilled to watch his pupil fight another mutant.

"Why the sour face, Charles?" A female voice asked from behind his wheelchair.

"That's not the reason I trained Rogue for, Amelia," the professor said, shaking his head in disapproval. "They're using their gifts in a childish way, and people are celebrating it."

"Rogue and Colossus are no children, Charles. They know what they're doing. Let them have some fun, for Christ's sake!" Voght defended, stepping beside him to watch the wrestling.

"Fun? I don't understand how sheer display of power can be interpreted as…" Xavier's words trailed off as he spotted Cortez approaching the crowd. Amelia's eyes accompanied his.

"You don't trust him," she said in a low tone.

'Do you?' He questioned inside of the woman's mind. Oh, the familiarity of her thoughts… Charles realized he had missed her.

'Of course not. But Magneto does. He's made Fabian his second in command. They've become… confidents. Inseparable.'

'I've seen Cortez recharging Erik's powers. Erik becomes so strong right after it… It's almost-'

'Addictive,' Amelia completed his line, turning her face towards Charles'. 'You're right. It is. Each time Cortez feeds Magneto, his magnetic abilities get momentarily stronger. The effect, thought, lasts less with every turn.'

'Do you think Cortez is aware of it?' Xavier asked.

'Absolutely.'

"Damn you, Petah!" They heard Rogue's cry from afar, and noticed a smug grin on Colossus' face.

"Ready for round two, tovarich?"

xxxxx

Meanwhile, outside the metal complex, Forge and Storm walked into the Blackbird, the man carrying a bag of tools. He crouched beside the huge conduit.

"How long until it's ready?" Ororo asked her boyfriend.

"A couple of hours. I just need to make a few minor adjustments," the engineer explained.

"And then what? How are we supposed to launch the antidote against the 'cure' over the States?" Storm questioned.

"With your powers, darling," Forge said, to her surprise. "We'll keep the device inside the bird and the hatch opened. Once the conduit's filled with Beast's antidote, we can spray it in the air and use your winds to spread it over the country."

"But Forge… We don't have any samples with us," Ororo said.

"I'm sure McCoy has some. After all the effort he's put into the antidote's development, he wouldn't leave the mansion without it," the man reasoned.

Storm became exasperated at his words. "Are you out of your mind? Hank might as well be dead by now!"

Forge threw the screwdriver on the floor and stood up to put his arms around his girlfriend. "I refuse to believe they're dead, Ro. We've managed to flee; so must've the others," he pulled her into a hug. "We can't lose hope."

Storm pushed his arms a few inches away to look at his face. "But even if we can recover the antidote, I'm only one mutant. My powers alone won't be enough to spread the molecules over the whole country."

The Indian cupped her face within his hands. "We don't need to do it all at once. We can spread it from one coast to the other, flying over the fifty states one at a time."

"It would take us too much time and effort," Ororo reasoned.

"Not if I can help," the couple turned towards the hatch to regard the newcomer.

"Magneto?"

"Your machine's made of steel, Forge. In case you haven't been informed, I command all metal components," he said. "Tell me how the conduit works, and maybe I can help you create a few extra copies."

South Kensington, London.

It was a one hour drive to the hotel under London's cold drizzle. Rachel and Nathan had cried all the way, obviously tired and upset after the long trip. Even Scott, who usually didn't complain, was feeling worn out and started acting grouchy once the group had arrived at the hotel. Warren payed for the two cabs with brand new fifty pound bills and took the initiative to check them in.

They had three rooms booked - one for the Kirbys, with two double beds and two cribs; the second was also equipped with two double beds and was taken by the Byrne cousins; the third room was reserved for the fastidious Mr. Lee, who demanded open spaces and a king-size bed to fit his angelical wings. The lobby's ancient wall clock showed it was 9:40 a.m., still early for any fake tourist activities. The group decided to retreat to their rooms and rest until lunch time.

Angel, however, lingered behind in the foyer with the excuse of checking what they could do while in London, seeing as they would be staying in the city for one day only. He approached the hotel clerk and flashed her his best smile.

"Excuse-me, Ms. Jones," he said as he inspected her badge. "Could you be so kind as to verify if there's a Mr. Hewlett staying in this hotel? He's an old friend of mine, and I was hoping to meet him today."

The young woman couldn't refuse such a charming request. "Of course, Mr. Lee," she checked her computer. "There was a reservation for a Mr. Hewlett, John, for yesterday evening, but I'm afraid he hasn't checked in yet. Perhaps later?" She offered, noticing Warren's disappointed look.

"Perhaps. I guess I'll have to wait, then," he winked at her, grinning again. "Thank you, dear. Have a lovely day."

"It was my pleasure, Mr. Lee. Have a nice staying in London," she smiled back.

When Angel turned around from the counter, his face was completely changed. He strode through the hotel's front door and crossed the street, stopping in front of a red pay phone. He entered the booth and angrily dialed Logan's number.

"Hullo?"

"Where the hell are you?" Warren asked. "Why haven't you checked in yet?"

Wolverine sighed on the other end of the line. "I ain't comin'."

"Why not? We're in a whole different continent! They have other legislation here."

"One that ain't mutant friendly either. It's too dangerous. I can't risk t'be seen 'round them," Logan explained.

The blonde let out an incredulous snort. "Jean's right, you know? You ARE a fucking liar."

"I ain't lyin'. It's dangerous, and ya know it."

"Enough with the bullshit excuses, Logan. That's not the reason why you're not here," Warren defied.

"Oh yeah? What's the reason then, flyboy? I'm dyin' to hear your opinion," the feral mocked.

"You aren't here because you're a damn coward, that's why!" Angel yelled into the receiver, his face red with anger. "You're afraid to commit to the best thing that's ever happened in your life."

"Huh. I thought ya'd say that," Wolverine replied calmly, then became silent.

Warren hesitated - he was expecting a growl or at least some kind of vulgar mutter. He thought the man might have turned insane, or maybe he was ill or something. But Wolverine didn't get sick. Suddenly it hit him. "You're giving up on them."

At first, Logan didn't respond. Then the feral drew in a breath and soon let the air out. "I'm sendin' ya some pictures. Ya're gonna show them to Jeannie today," he ordered.

"Pictures? What pictures? What are you planning to do, Logan?"

"Just do as I say without questionin' me once, Worthington!" He snarled.

There it was. That kind of retort was much more like the X-Man. "Fine. Just send me whatever picture you want, and I'll show her," Angel said. "I hope you know what you're doing."

"I do."

"You know… If you keep pushing Jean away, she'll eventually find someone else," Warren tried to reason one last time.

"I'm countin' on it," Wolverine declared, and hung up the phone.

Three seconds later, Angel's smart phone beeped, signaling the arrival of a new message. It came from an undisclosed user. He clicked on the photo icon.

"Oh shit."

xxxxx

At one o'clock, the five X-Men agreed to meet for lunch in a nearby restaurant. They were all feeling better after some sleep, a warm shower, and a good English meal. Nate was playing with his plush bear on his father's lap while Rachel was being nursed by Jean. In the meantime, the adults were discussing the best timetable for the next days.

"What time does the first train to Cambridge leave tomorrow?" Cyclops asked. "I'd like to move north as fast as we can."

Bobby checked the rail system's brochure. "Six thirty."

"Scott, I know you're worried about your brother and want to arrive in Muir Island as quick as possible. But six thirty is too early to have the babies ready. We need to let them rest a little longer, otherwise they'll get cranky throughout the journey," Jean opined.

"There's another train at ten fifteen…" Iceman verified.

"Fine. We'll get that one then," Scott decided. He glimpsed at Jean, noticing the satisfied smile on her face.

"Great! That will give Hank and I more time to explore Camden Town tonight," Bobby celebrated.

"I was expecting to pay a visit to the worldly renewed Natural Science Museum," Beast told him.

"Why do you have to be so boring, Hank?"

Before the doctor could retort, Jean intervened. "Why don't you guys visit the museum first, and then go to Camden?"

The two friends looked at each other. "Sounds like a plan," Drake and McCoy agreed.

"Good. Can we return our attention to the schedule now? I don't need to remind you that this is not a vacation trip," Cyclops said.

"No, you don't, fearless leader. Bobby and I must beg your pardon. We became a little carried away by this metropolis' infinite scope of possibilities," Beast apologized.

"Whatever, Hank. So, we'll cross from Cambridge to Birmingham, from there to Manchester, and only then to Edinburgh - all by train. In Edinburgh, we'll hire a boat to take us to Muir Island," Scott proposed.

"Sounds correct. Today is the December 27th. By my calculations, and taking in consideration the children's necessities, we should arrive at Dr. McTaggert's home by the 30th, 31st of December at most," McCoy informed them.

"I wish we could get there faster, but we can't hurry with two babies. Besides, we don't want to attract any suspicion," Cyclops considered. "Warren, what do you think?"

"Huh?" The blonde said, distracted.

"What do you think of the itinerary?" Scott asked again.

"It's good," Angel replied shortly. He retrieved some bills from his wallet and placed them over the table, suddenly standing up. "Jean, I need your help with something."

The redhead had just laid her daughter back in the stroller. "My help?" She asked skeptically.

"Yes. I need a female opinion. Let's go," he urged her.

"Now? Wait, Warr, I can't go anywhere with Rachel now. It's too cold, it's raining, and she needs more sleep."

"Please, Jeannie. I could really use your help," he stared straight into her eyes. Jean glanced down at her baby, insecure about what to do.

"Go with Warren, Jean. I'm taking Nathan back to the hotel, I can watch Rach for you," Scott offered.

"But…," the redhead hesitated. She'd never been apart from her daughter before. It felt… wrong.

"Please," Angel pleaded one more time.

Warren was acting weird, and the woman suspected he wanted to talk to her in private. She glanced from him to Rachel, and then back to Scott.

"You've never been to London, Jean. Don't you want to walk around the city for a couple of hours?" Cyclops asked. "Go. Have fun. I promise to take good care of her," he added.

Jean trusted Scott's parenting abilities, and Warren rarely asked anything of her. "All right," she nodded and bent down to place a kiss on Rachel's cheek. "Be a good girl. Mommy will be right back," she whispered to her daughter before leaving.

The two friends took a black cab -no way Warren would enter a crowded tube- and soon arrived at Sloane Street, where the blonde beckoned Jean to follow him into one of the most luxurious jewelry shops she had ever seen. The redhead glanced down at her clothes and tennis shoes, suddenly feeling very self-conscious.

"Warr, I don't think I'm properly dressed for a place like this," she said.

"That's nonsense. Come here," he approached the glass case and showed her a piece. "Do you think Candy would like it?"

Jean's gaze followed his right index finger - he was pointing at a perfectly carved diamond ring. Her eyes widened. "Oh my God! You're going to propose to her!"

"That's the plan," he told her solemnly. "So… Will she like it?"

"Absolutely!" The woman exclaimed, embracing her best friend over his thick trench coat, minding the wings. "I'm so happy for you!"

Angel wavered to return the hug. "She hasn't said yes yet."

"Don't be silly, she will," Jean assured him excitedly.

Warren briefly talked to the saleswoman and concluded his very fine purchase. "I guess there's no going back now," he declared with a lopsided grin.

"As if you wanted to go back," the telepath teased. "You're crazy about Candy, and so is she about you. You guys are perfect for each other, and so very lucky," she added.

They exited the shop and walked the long street side by side. The rain had finally come to a halt and Jean took her time to take in the new surroundings. She'd never been to Europe, and the streets looked quite different from the ones back at her homeland. She gazed at the beautiful Victorian buildings and the red double-deckers passing by. For a moment, she wished she was a real tourist vacationing through the United Kingdom with her friends.

"Since it's afternoon in London, let's have some tea," Warren proposed, opening the tea house glass door for her.

The blonde knew Jean just too well. "I could never say no to that," she smiled, but Angel wasn't looking at her face. They ordered their beverages and sat at a small side table; the woman risked another glance at her friend - he was definitely avoiding her eyes. "Okay. Obviously, this walk through the city isn't about buying rings and drinking tea, and I don't even need my telepathy to realize that. Spill it out, Worthington."

Warren shuddered at the way she'd said his name - she'd sounded just like Wolverine. "It's… it's about Logan," he blurted out.

Jean's smile disappeared and her eyes became wary. "What… what about him?"

"I've hired someone… a P.I., to keep tabs on Logan after he left the mansion," Angel lied.

"You've what?" The redhead shrieked. "Y-You know where he is and you didn't tell me?"

"I didn't think it would do you any good," he still didn't look at her face.

"Oh, you didn't think I'd like to know that my daughter's father, who happens to be a mutant fugitive, is alive and well?" She let out a scoff. "Un-fucking-believable."

"I-I'm really sorry, Jean."

"How could you do that to me?" The woman shook her head in disbelief. "Hell… How could you do that to him? Logan's going to kill you when he finds out you've been stalking him."

"He won't," Warren replied too quickly. "I mean, he won't find out," he corrected himself.

"You better hope he won't," Jean said, but didn't believe that Wolverine could be followed without noticing it. "So… Where is he?"

"Ontario. He's hanging with a Canadian team of mutants. They're called the Alpha Flight," Angel informed her.

"Of course he is," she sneered. "I should've guessed he wasn't going to abandon a life of fighting. He only left the X-Men because Rachel and I happened to be in the mansion and he didn't want to be part of a family," she concluded.

Warren finally looked at the redhead's face. The pain in her beautiful green eyes was too evident, and he silently cursed Wolverine for making him do this.

"Why are you telling me this now?" Jean questioned. Her voice carried a guarded tone, almost as if she knew he was about to break her heart in even smaller pieces.

"Because, uh… I need to show you something. Something I don't think you're going to like, but you have the right to know," Angel took the cell phone out of his pocket and showed her a sequence of pictures. The first was of a beautiful blond woman with her right arm around Logan's neck and his left arm placed around her waist. It looked like they were walking in a snow covered park. The second showed them in a more intimate embrace, their faces very close. Jean almost didn't want to look at the last one - she knew they would be kissing. Unfortunately, her eyes confirmed her fear. "Those were taken yesterday. I'm sorry," Warren told her.

The redhead averted her eyes from the screen. Her heart was pounding hard against her ribcage, the English tea feeling like lead inside her stomach. She needed a few seconds to interpret what she'd just seen.

"Are you okay?" She heard Warren's worried voice but didn't respond. When he put a hand on her left shoulder, she felt her skin burn. "Jeannie, are you all right?"

Jean abruptly slapped his hand away and stared at his face. "I've always known Logan for a liar, but I never thought you'd join the club," she hissed, standing up from her seat and storming out of the shop.

Angel watched her go, feeling like a complete jerk. He kicked the leg of her chair in anger. "Fuck you, Logan!"

xxxxx

Jean's mind was running wild as she dashed through the unfamiliar streets towards the hotel. The ache in her heart was so strong that she didn't mind the pain coming from her left thigh. It had started raining again but she didn't bother to search for cover. After Warren's revelations, she'd felt an urgent necessity to hold her daughter close, the one stable thing in her life - the only true love she'd ever allow herself to feel.

By the time she entered the hotel lobby, her hair was all wet and some red strands were plastered against her eyes and cheeks. She ignored the scrutinizing gazes of other guests and climbed up the staircase two steps at a time to the third floor. She jogged across the long hallway until she'd reached the door to her room. She slipped the keycard inside the electronic lock with violence; in defiance, the light only became green after the third try. As the redhead walked inside the bedroom, her eyes darted around, only catching a glimpse of Nate playing with his building blocks inside the crib. She couldn't see Rachel, and her telepathy automatically reached out for her daughter's mind. She sensed that the girl was inside the adjoining bathroom and quickly headed in its direction.

The door was ajar, and Jean peeked inside.

She saw Scott carefully dressing Rachel into a light pink onesie, humming some lullaby she'd never heard; her daughter was laying on the bathtub's changing table, her blue eyes wide open and staring straight at the man's face. There was water splashed over the floor, and the mirror was moist.

"You bathed her?" Jean's voice was small.

Scott briefly turned his head to glance at her. "Oh, hey Jean, back so soon?" He looked back to the baby girl and smiled. "I had to. I never thought a baby this small could make such a mess in her diapers," he told the redhead in a good-humored tone. "I hope you don't mind."

Jean didn't respond - she couldn't. She slowly closed the door and stepped back into the bedroom. She sat down on the bed beside the two cribs, pain and confusion making her mind numb. Her heart had just been broken by the only two men she had ever loved; then she had witnessed a third man doing the job only a father was supposed to do.

She gazed at the cartoon playing on the tv but didn't see a thing. She couldn't hear Scott's concerned voice calling her from inside the bathroom, nor could she feel the cold that her wet clothes brought to her skin. Silent tears started running down her cheeks but she didn't realize it. All she could see was Logan's face on Warren's phone.

A noise coming from her right side finally broke her trance.

"No ky, ma-ma."

Her head spun towards the sound. Nate was standing inside the crib, his tiny hands gripping its edge and his eyes staring at her face with disconcert. "No ky," he clumsily shook his head sideways.

It was too much to bear.

Jean started sobbing profusely. She covered her eyes with both her palms and let the tears fall freely. She didn't see how Nathan kept gazing at her in confusion, his innocent mind having trouble to understand why a grown-up would be crying. He'd never seen his daddy cry, after all.

The redhead suddenly felt a strong arm pulling her forward. Scott was kneeling on the floor in front of her, using his right arm to embrace her while his left one was holding Rachel. He didn't ask why she was crying, or what had happened between her and Warren. Instead, he let her bury her head in his chest and said, "Don't hold back."