From the depths of lurking, I have returned.

DISCLAIMER: The X-Men belong to Marvel. (Go figure.) Dakota just popped right out of my head so I guess that means he's mine. I'm making no money from this so please don't go forth with any legal action.

ARCHIVING: Is great with me, just notify me when you do.

CONTINUITY: This happens prior to the Psi-War. And it is after my other two fan-fics (The First Step and Suddenly, There's a Valley).

bold Things that make noise in any light
italics Normally only telepaths hear these


Waitin' For The Deal To Go Down
Beverly McIntyre

Dakota's dark chocolate eyes watched the blue and yellow blur that had to be Wolverine. High up on his perch in the trees, he couldn't quite be sure. He held his breath and watched where the stocky man was moving. Away from this particular tree was his preference. Dakota let his breath out slowly as he watched Wolverine dart away, hopefully after somebody else. Shifting slightly, Dakota was betrayed by the rustle of leaves. The big man paused, holding his breath once again. I'm going to get the hiccups if I keep this up much longer. After a few heartbeats of holding himself absolutely still, he eased back down. Going to be hard to survive this if I'm jumping at every little thing. Of course, with Wolverine after me I should be jumping at everything.

Dakota settled himself back against the tree trunk. He absently swatted at the tiny bugs dancing around his nose. They had been bothering him since he and his partner had fled into the woods. They were a minor nuisance that he would have to ignore. The gnats dispersed for about two seconds before swarming back around his face. He let an inward grumble of frustration out but continued to scan the surrounding woodlands for any movement.

After being reasonably sure that no one was in close proximity, Dakota dared to shift his position on the branch slightly. The tree branch he had propped himself up on was starting to make his tail-bone sore. Note to self: your people come from the Great Plains so trees aren't big on your list of habitats. Glancing up through the leafy canopy above his head, Dakota marked the position of the sun. Hmmm. She's been gone for over fifteen minutes now. Maybe I should hop down and go looking for her. Or maybe they've already got her. Dakota nervously glanced around the forest around him. If the other teams have tagged her out, things didn't look so good for him.

Let's see. That would leave me with seven X-Men to take down. Ooh. Lucky me. On that note, a change of venue was in order. He could not sit there much longer before somebody found him. His hand slid to the gun laying across his lap. How many rounds did he have left after the fire-fight with Storm's group? Ten maybe. Ten was not enough to take out seven X-Men. He grabbed the gun and scooted slightly forward, trying hard not to shake the branch he was sitting on. He leaned forward a bit to get a better look at where he was going to land.

"If'n y'want t'get down, sugah, y'could always ask." Startled by Rogue's voice, Dakota jumped slightly and lost his precarious balance on the branch. Where the hell did she come from was about all he could think as the ground rushed up toward him.

Plummeting toward the ground at a rate he found quite alarming, Dakota dropped his gun and grabbed with both hands at the nearest branch. He felt a bit of relief when he felt his descent slow and the branch strain under his weight. But relief would not stay with the big man hanging from a thin branch; there was a very audible crack as the branch snapped away from the tree.

Then the oddest things happened. He didn't fall. He just floated there above the ground. Either he just had a new mutant ability kick in, or Rogue had managed to latch onto his belt and keep him aloft. Judging from the monstrous wedgie he suddenly had, he guessed it was the second of the two options.

"Ah thought you told me that stealth was gonna be our biggest weapon in this." Dakota grumbled some kind of assent as he tried to make himself look more dignified, which was very hard to do since he was a grown man being held up by his pants. "Then maybe y'should find one o' McCoy's dictionaries an' look the word up."

Dakota could just hear the smile in those words. Why was it whenever he had an embarrassing moment around any X-Men Rogue would have to be there? It was hard enough to maintain a sort of teacher/student respect with her. She wasn't too keen on waking up every morning at six to start doing mental lessons to help her get control of her powers. At least I hope I can help her. If not, I see a long parade of retribution for getting her up early every morning. Another note to self: try not to think of what she could do to you when she has you by the seat of your pants. Besides, my mind is supposed to be on surviving in the present.

"I'll keep that in mind. But how about we get terra firma under our feet? I think better when I'm not being held up by a certain someone." Rogue rolled her eyes and let go of Dakota's pants. Dakota, half expecting it, dropped the flimsy branch in his hands and quickly performed a surprisingly agile aerobatic display to land nicely on the ground.

"Looks like somebody's been takin' lessons from Longshot" Rogue commented as she floated down to the ground. Dakota reached down and dusted off his jeans.

"Well, I got to do something while you X-Men are off saving the world." Dakota straightened back up with the gun he had dropped earlier in hand. He checked the gun's sights, trying to see if the drop had done any damage. "Anyway, what are the other two teams doing?"

"Ya'll be happy t'know that their down t'four. Ya took out Maggott with that last skirmish. Hank's out after a quick run-in with Betsy."

"Ah, the indomitable G-string woman strikes again."

"An' Sam's been takin' out," Rogue continued. "Y'know Betsy will kill ya for callin' her that."

Dakota looked up from his gun. "She's already tried once, but I'll have you know there isn't a fruit salad that she can find that'll take me down. How'd Cannonball get eliminated? His blast field should give him an almost unfair advantage."

"Not when it's not up. Sam relaxed for a second an' Longshot got a lucky shot in."

"His stock and trade. So, that leaves Wolverine and Psylocke on one hand and Storm and Longshot on the other."

"Speakin' o' which, shouldn't we get movin'? They're probably on the way t'find out what made all that ruckus." Dakota nodded and slung the gun over his shoulder.

"Let's leave a nice trail toward the lake."

"Trail?"

"We're gonna make our move, kiddo. I'll leave a nice scent trail for Wolverine to follow. You can peak up through the trees and lead Storm there. You come in from the east and I'll come in from the west. At the lake, you can take out Wolverine. I'll go for Longshot since he's not likely to be far from Storm since the team has been whittled down to two."

"'Bout time. But they'll know we're settin' up a trap for them."

Dakota smiled a devilish grin. "That's what I'm hoping." He turned and started to make his way toward the lake. Rogue watched him disappear into the woods. She had no idea what he was planning, but from his reaction it had to be good.

"Ah just hope he makes it quick. Ah've got places t'be today."


Dakota watched as Storm moved slowly toward the lake. She had to have sensed that she was walking right into a trap; she was on the ground instead of in the air. Maybe seeing Rogue after a long period of hiding was the biggest clue she had, but there was a trap laid. Dakota noted that Longshot was nowhere to be seen. But he's around here. I can feel it. He kept himself silently crouched in the tree. Slowly he brought up the barrel of the gun, aiming carefully at Storm's back. And then he waited.

Hope Rogue's getting rid of Wolverine 'cause I don't want to face him. The breeze shifted, making the branches above Dakota sway. Sunlight glinted off the barrel of the gun.

"STORM! BEHIND YOU!" Longshot's yell sent the Windrider spinning on her heel. Longshot himself came bursting out of his hiding place, one arm moving in a dynamic throwing motion toward Dakota. Menawhile, Dakota squeezed off two shots at Storm before jumping backwards off of the tree. He hit the ground with a loud thud and an even louder grunt. Despite the pain lancing through his legs, Dakota got to his feet to get a quick glimpse to see if he had done anything.

Longshot stood in front of Storm with two small red splotches on the front of his leather jacket and a look of disbelief on his face. Dakota glanced up at the branch where he had been just mere seconds before to see that the branch had been peppered yellow. Rather than stand there and marvel at the near miss, Dakota forced his aching body into a run. He angled toward the other side of the lake where Wolverine and Psylocke should be.

Gotta love this running from one danger to another. Dakota crashed through the forest, hoping he was making enough noise for Storm to follow. She was still in contention to take him out and he was not going to make it easy.

Not paying much attention to where he was going, the toe of Dakota's boot caught on a tree root sticking out of the ground. He fell flat on his face as something whizzed right by his ear. Gasping for breath, he looked over his shoulder to see a blue splotch on the tree right behind where he had been standing. D'oh and damn.

He rolled to his left. Two shots bit the dirt where he had been. Dakota clambered to his feet as quickly as he could. He brought his gun up to find himself looking directly at Psylocke with something looking like an assault rifle in her hands. She arched one purple eyebrow.

"Your game ends here, Dakota." Big talk calls for big moves, and Dakota was not about to disappoint. Dakota lunged low at Psylocke, forcing her first shot to go about an inch over his head. Her second shot never quite got off as Betsy found herself being body tackled to the ground. Grappling with each other, Dakota managed to knock her gun out of her hands. It skittered off into the forest undergrowth. "If I cannot win one way, I will win another."

A glowing pink knife of telepathic energy lanced near his face. Dakota snapped his head back to avoid the attack. Psylocke, taking advantage of the opening she gave herself, brought her knee into his crotch. Dakota grunted and rolled away from her. An odd trail of bright yellow splotches that seemed to follow him as he rolled away. The trail stopped as Dakota rolled right into a large patch of underbrush that hid him from any aerial assault.

Psylocke looked up toward the canopy of trees to see Storm floating high above the ground with a small, black firearm in her hand. Rather than waste breath on a smart jibe [since she had done that once already and had less than the desired effect], Betsy dove where her firearm had disappeared.

Storm fired several quick shots, but every shot missed her target. Goddess, why did I let Dakota talk me into using one of these things? I am no marksman.

Psylocke dug quickly through the ground cover. Pulling her firearm up, she rolled to the left as another of Storm's shots whizzed by her ear. Coming up to her feet in one fluid motion, Psylocke opened fire with reckless abandon. Not only did she tag Storm, she peppered the underbrush where Dakota disappeared with blue paintballs. She stopped firing when she was sufficiently sure that there could be no way that Dakota could have avoided being hit.

"You seemed to enjoy that a bit to much, Elizabeth," Storm said as she looked at the blue splotches down the front of her torso. It stung slightly where the paintballs had hit, but the pain was already fading away.

"If you have to do something, Storm, why not-"

Phoot. Splat. Psylocke lurched forward slightly. She turned slowly to see Dakota standing behind her with one arm around a tree [for after the beating he had taken he could use the support]. His paintball gun still aimed at her. Storm noticed the splotch of red paint on her back. Psylocke was about to make some comment about cheating when she noticed there wasn't a splotch of blue anywhere on his person. He smiled at her.

"I believe you were going to say why not enjoy it."

"How did you . . .? I mean, you should be out. There is be no way you could have . . ." Psylocke seemed baffled.

"Moved that fast? I may not be Quicksilver or Warpath, for that matter, but I can move with the best of them." Dakota lowered his gun upon seeing the blue splotches down Storm's front. Psylocke couldn't believe it. She didn't even sense his thoughts before he shot her. To make sure nothing was wrong with her she reached out to his mind. He was gloating slightly, but he was also worried about how Rogue had fared against Wolverine.

Psylocke had some hope that her team was still in the game, but that disappeared when she caught sight of the green blur moving through the trees.

"Dakota! We did it! We won!" Rogue landed beside her teammate for the paintball wars. "I took out Wolvy wi' that paint grenade thing ya made. Let me tell ya. He ain't happy about bein' taken out, but that's about par f'course for him."

"Grenade?" Dakota looked up at Storm.

"Yeah, I made one with paintballs and a few things provided by nature. It's a relatively simple thing when you got a person who can throw with enough force to make it work." Storm floated to the ground.

"Then it appears that you and Rogue have won this little exercise. I, for one, will be glad if I never have to use one of these things again." She hoisted her gun in the air. "The elements are my sidearms of choice."

"You're only saying that 'cause you can't hit the broad side of a barn," Dakota laughed.

"Is that so?" A mischievous glint appeared in Storm's eyes.

~End~