Disclaimer: Don't own the X-Men, Kurt, Graydon, Duncan, or anything in this story. Which is depressing, but true.

A/N: First of all, I have to apologize to arin for removing their review -- I appreciate it, I do, but please don't DO that! I'm trying to have a surprise ending, and people who review who've guessed what's going to happen keep nearly giving me away! Thanks for the review, but please, be more careful.

A/NII: the 'young woman' described, who FOH killed (she's mentioned in earlier chapters) is Sue Storm from the FF, because I couldn't resist killing her. She is, to quote Mara Jade Skywalker, a brainless bit of decorative fluff. (and for those of you who haven't a clue who Mara Jade Skywalker is, first: Shame on you! Second: Go catch up on the rest of the Star Wars universe -- the movies are becoming redundant! Mara is Lukes wife and a former Imperial Assassin)

A/NIII: Oh, yeah. And blame 'Manda's philosophical side on my English Honors class

Dedication: To Alaer Kino, for his interpretation of the night after "Shadowdance" in his fic "You Noticed Me!" It's very good (on my favs list, as is a lot of my dedication stuff), go read it and yell at him to continue. He posted it before I started this and only has the first section up!

Hey! I even kept it relatively short this time! Cool! On to LPE!

Chapter VIII

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to."

Kurt was leaning casually against a locker near Amanda's after school two days later. His demeanor was nonchalant and his face calm but inside he seethed with worry, even his hypersensitive tail knotted with tension. And he wasn't worried about himself.

Amanda flippantly tossed a strand of hair behind her shoulder, then looked up at Kurt with dark brown eyes. "I saw Angel yesterday," she told him. "The only parts of him that weren't black and blue were his wings and his bandages, and whatever's under them is worse than bruises. He didn't even dare go to a hospital for fear that it might happen all over again. It just --" she clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms, face flushed. "It infuriates me. If I can stop that from happening again, especially to people I'm close to, I will."

Kurt shook his head, amazed. He had never thought that he would meet anyone who became so angry because someone she didn't even know got hurt. He reached out a hand and pulled her to him. "Did anyone ever tell you you're an amazing person?"

"Flatterer," she accused. She was shaking slightly, so that Kurt only noticed when he wrapped his tail around her waist. Amanda leaned her back against his chest, sighing.

"Nien," he denied. "Truth only. You are going into danger -- less for you, because you're human -- for a group of people you were unaware existed a month ago. And you are frightened. Yet you're going anyway."

Amanda let out a breath. "Alright. I am scared. But I'm the only one who can do this safely -- I can tell I'm the first human to find out about the Institute. So it's my responsibility."

Kurt leaned forward and gave her a confused look. "How is this in any remote way your responsibility?"

"I'm -- not sure how to say it. I suppose it's the duty of humans to look after human nature, and make sure it doesn't destroy us. Hatred of anything leads only to evil. And besides," her tone grew lighter, and twisting around, she poked him in the shoulder. "I like ya. What would I do without a fuzzy blue elf in my life?"

"Have Saturday nights free?" he suggested cheerfully.

"Kurt!"

"Yes?" he inquired, face innocent.

She glared mockingly at him. "I will see you later," she told him, pointing a finger at him.

"Auf wiedershen."

*

Graydon nearly had a heart attack when the girl he'd seen in the Institute showed up at a meeting.

They don't . . . know?! But the description of a woman hanging around our Seattle branch described the weather-witch perfectly . . .

Graydon, however, wasn't going to ignore his incredible luck. The Friends of Humanity had just gotten a gift dropped into their laps, and he was going to ensure that it didn't become the story of the one who got away.

He went on with the mock-meeting, announcing a field trip in two weeks, and reminded the senior members of the extended meeting later on. He and the almost non-existent teacher supervisor discussed the upcoming field trip, their past successes (for new members), and read a letter (forged) from a little girl they'd helped. Duncan Matthews provided the 'coolness' factor that excluded FOH from the ranks of geek-clubs, simply by standing in the back of the room, glaze-eyed, and waiting for the mock-meeting to end so the real meeting could start. The meeting, like many of the others, ended quickly with permission slips for the field trip. Graydon caught the sophomore, Amanda Sefton, on the way out.

"Amanda Sefton, right? You're new."

"My first meeting," she replied, almost too softly for him to hear. Amanda was playing up her reputation for shyness -- not that Graydon needed to know. "The field trip sounded interesting."

"Thinking of coming? I mean, handing out food isn't all we do, especially when we go downtown like this," Graydon coaxed. He analyzed her in a flash. If she was always this shy, he could probably coax her into coming downtown, and convince her of FOH's sincerity. He'd invite her to an 'inner circle' meeting afterward, and bully her into it if he had to. Then they'd kidnap her, alert the telepath -- someone else would have to think of how -- and then FOH would have them!

Amanda smiled through a lock of hair that had fallen across her face, though she was grinding her teeth so hard she was certain he could hear her. "I hope so. I really like this. Um, I'd, love to stay and talk, but I'm getting picked up. See you next week!" she tried to be cheerful, but knew it sounded forced. There was something rotten about Graydon Brent -- or, she should say, Graydon Creed. From what Wolverine had said about his father, she was beginning to suspect the slime was a genetic trait.

*

After having Xavier look over every memory of the meeting, Amanda was mentally and physically exhausted. Leading a telepath around her brain was hard work -- because he couldn't get in naturally, she'd had to lead him though the meeting step by step so that he could look over her memories of it in case she'd forgotten something. It had been a trial for both of them.

Amanda leaned against a window sill, looking out at a night filled with stars. It had frayed her nerves to the breaking point having him in her head like that, knowing what he could discover any minute.

At least mutants had a scientific explanation for themselves. She didn't.

Sighing, the girl eyed a pad of simple lined paper left out after doing her math homework with Kurt. If she could only write home and tell Mother, she could tell her daughter what to do. But if Mother found out where she was, she'd get dragged back home, and away from Kurt. Away from doing something that might save him -- and his friends, who were fast becoming hers -- from what had happened to Warren, or worse, what had happened to that young woman. Twenty-two, Ms. Munroe had said. Blond, rather pretty. Had a younger brother and a genius boyfriend. Several people had claimed to see her 'vanish' before their eyes.

She was dead.

Or, according to police records, 'missing'. And she would stay on that missing persons file until enough time went by to officially declare her dead. That could be me. Besides the age and the fact that her brother was older, not younger, the woman matched her description. Only it was the young woman who might have been a mutant, whereas this time, it was Kurt. Knowing him put her in a mild amount of danger. Knowing what he was put in a decent amount of danger. Knowing the others put her in good amount of danger. Helping them and accepting them threw her in over her head and was almost suicidal.

She'd do it anyway, but she wished she could talk to her mother. She could help, she could tell her how to protect herself and Kurt.

This time, through her own decision, Amanda was on her own. But by the same token, Kurt wasn't.

"Yah look like a possum who just became road kill," Rogue's southern twang commented from behind her. "And wasn't happy about it either."

"So now I'm being compared to a dead rodent?"

"Actually, what yah look like is a dead marsupial, but it wasn't supposed to be analyzed. I was just commenting that yah look like shit."

"Thank you," Amanda replied sarcastically, turning to face Rogue.

"What had yah and the professor in there so long? Couldn't he just drag the memories out of yah? I know he's done that for me a few times. When he's had the courage to come in, anyway," she muttered the last part.

Amanda sent the other girl a weird look. "And why should a telepath fear someone's mind? I mean, unless they're some kind of psycho-killer."

"Yah know what my powers do. Well, everyone I touch, I retain some of their memories an' personality subconsciously. Sometimes -- when it's the worst -- I can hardly hear myself think."

Amanda shuddered.

"So what had yah in there so long?"

Sighing, she flopped down onto one of the Institutes many fluffy couches. "Apparently, some people are naturally resistant to telepathy. I, unfortunately, am one of them."

"So did he have to tell him the whole thing, or what?"

"No. I had to lead him, image by image, through my memories."

"Yikes," Rogue sympathized. "How did the meeting go?"

"Well, if they're really what they say they are, they are not in any kind of shape to take on even the smallest amount of human suffering until they get organized. The teacher was superfluous, no one did anything, and Graydon and his cronies yapped the whole time. And Duncan Matthews was standing in the back, bored. Personally, I can't see him attending this thing if they were really what they're masquerading as."

"Duncan Matthews? You're sure?" Rogue asked insistently.

"Yeah. Big-time jock, blond, the brains of the dodo bird . . ." Amanda trailed off. She and Rogue exchanged a look before bursting into laughter.

"All the smarts of the dodo bird and the morals to go with it!" Rogue declared, still laughing. It wasn't something she did often.

When the laughter finally died down, Amanda and Rogue set about becoming old friends. Ten minutes later, Kurt walking in the room set them off again, and after staring at the two of them for a few moments he backed slowly out of the room, eliciting more giggles.

"Suppose he would mind us talking about him behind his tail?"

"Oh, but it's so much fun!"

Kurt shuddered. Okay, so Rogue was close enough to be the weirdly-related sort-of sister that she was. And he was close enough to Amanda to have practically put his life in her hands, and the lives of all his closest friends. Mein Gott. That combination is baaad news for this certain fuzzy elf . . .