The sun finally rose on Wednesday morning, ending that horrible Tuesday once and for all. It held lordship over a bright, sunny day. Crystal air clear and almost sparkling the way it only could in the cold of winter fairly danced with the golden rays. The jarring ringing of the phone on the night stand next to her ear startle the sleeping mutant awake, nearly causing her to spill off the side of her bed as she made a grab for it. Righting herself, she mumbled a greeting into the phone, turning a curious eye to the glory of the day outside. It was lost on her.

The only thing that was said was a name and business phone number, which she had the presence of mind to scrawl on the notepad she'd left out last night. She thanked her former teacher, hanging up the phone. There really wasn't anything else to say, what she was going to do had to be done with as little involvement from her friends as possible, for their sakes. She was about to commit the ultimate betrayal after all. Choosing one bitter rival over the one she'd chosen to this point.

She laid back on her pillow, pulling the blankets more securely around her as she considered the changes in her life now that she'd had plenty of sleep and time to adjust. "God, I'm still going to do this," she groaned to herself, turning her head to look at the picture in the little silver frame next to the phone. It had been taken during her senior year by Rogue, and showed her sitting on the porch steps of the Brotherhood Home, leaning on Todd's shoulder and laughing at something. He was grinning down at her, probably the cause of the laughter, she couldn't quite remember just then what had been so funny in the moment frozen on paper.

She picked it up, hugging the cool metal to her chest. "I'm going to do this, and whatever happens next, I won't regret. This is really what I want," she said softly, only realizing the simple truth of it all once she admitted it out loud to herself. She put the picture back and pulled herself out of bed, she had a lot to do.

A quick shower was followed by an uncomfortably silent breakfast with Scott and Jean, both of them constantly watching her. Neither of them really knew what to say, and their discomfort was grating on Arica's internal senses. For her part she merely stared morosely into her oatmeal, carefully projecting a feeling of angry helplessness in case the redhead was trying to scan her. She didn't need to be rescued from herself, and couldn't afford to be locked up on the off chance they decided she'd lost it. Todd couldn't afford for her to make mistakes now.

It was hard enough, turning her back on everything she knew. She really didn't need any interference, no faltering. Finally her bowl was empty, giving her the excuse she needed to leave the room without looking odd. Having a full stomach on which to do all this wasn't hurting either, she mused with a slight sense of whimsy. Don't worry Todd, I'm going to fix things. Somehow.


In another part of New York, Jackson L. Connor was also getting ready to leave his house to head for his office near Wall Street. Jack Connor had a talent for increasing sums of money, and utilized it gleefully. He cheerfully admitted that money was his God, and commissions the divine grace of his life. He liked it that way, his life was so much simpler, so much cleaner than so many others. No messy morals, no difficult ethics issues interfering with his performance.

Of course, there was that one entanglement that tended to be problematic, but the money was amazing. As long as that kept coming, he really didn't care who the man was. Just another client. And he could deal with the swarms of odd people looking for a contact to that client that came to him on the odd occasion.

Jack really didn't understand what all the fuss about mutants was, especially when they mostly seemed to want to gather on that island in the Caribbean they had taken over. And that one everyone feared, Magneto. Other than the occasional trips to New York to oversee his considerable financial holdings he rarely set foot off that island. The one time Jack had asked him curiously about why he never tried to leave it he'd been met with outright disdain in the man's face and voice for having to step at all into the world of a lesser species, that he was more than content to allow to die out on it's own so long as he was allowed to continue his haven for those mutants seeking it.

It was that connection that often created havoc in Jack's life, as those mutants sought him out to try to get to Genosha. He amused himself on the subway ride by studying the kids on the train, trying to figure out which of them were budding mutants and which were just normal pre-teens. You never could really tell, he supposed. That could be green punk dye, or it could be natural to the girl. And over there, the really tall kid could be a future basketball player for all anyone really knew.

All was peaceful in his small stockbroker firm when he arrived, no new messages, no irate clients. An ordinary day, he could concentrate on the complicated weave and flow of the markets. His favorite kind of day, one that happened all too rarely.

The pale November sun pouring into the windows livened his office up, a welcome change from the depressing gray light that had filtered in yesterday through the rain, increasing his good humor with the world.

By noon, the man had accomplished a great deal, enormously pleased with himself. His God was being kind to him today, and showering him with the blessings he so adored as he gleefully researched several new companies and chose which would grow and which would falter. Every now and then the giant shadow of a passing Sentinel fell across him, bringing involuntary shudders.

Creepy things, those robots, he mused to himself. He often considered them a mistake, how long before a grieving or desperate mutant found a way to reprogram them to kill off humans instead? He didn't think much about the mutant 'crisis' in his country, but he did know his history well. You had to have a good grasp on history to really understand the stock market in his opinion, for world event's were intrinsically connected to the flow of money.

Desperate people cowered for a while, then a breaking point was reached, and they started to fight back. Often violently. It was a theme over and over throughout history, and he didn't understand why no one was considering this possibility. It was one that crossed his mind when his door flew open, shuddering visibly from the impact with the wall. So much for lunch.

Standing in the open frame was a young blond woman, staring evenly at him as she walked into his office, the door shutting behind her of it's own volition. Maybe walked was the wrong adjective, he amended as he watched her smooth stalking gate. This was the part of his connection he hated, the angry ones. The door was a giveaway, it was heavy and had never opened or closed in the wind the entire four years he had this office. This girl had an agenda, was showing off her powers deliberately, and enough anger burning her dark eyes to make him nervous.

"Sit down and tell me how I can help you, Miss..." he kept his voice soothing, warmly inviting as it trailed off in a query. Be at ease, I want to help you, be calm.

"Jenner," she replied, looking around the office curiously, ignoring the chair he offered her entirely. "And I have a message to reach...Magneto."
Now here was the complicated part, sorting out those who really wanted to reach his client from those who were sent to bring him to justice for his crimes. Not that he'd really committed all that many to Jack's knowledge, but his mutant haven were making the powers that be of the world nervous. So far Genosha had made no moves on the rest of the world, but the fact that it was steadily filling up with super-powered mutants was a fact not lost on the governments of the world.

He was pretty sure he'd seen this one before on the television, though he was at something of a disadvantage since he didn't really follow the mutant issues. She was probably registered and playing by the rules though, that Sentinel had been far to close to miss her if she was a rogue. That made her a potential problem to his client.

"I don't really know what you are talking about, Miss Jenner, I think there's been some mistake..."

"Don't lie to me," she interrupted, her voice colder than the frigid November wind in the subway tunnels that morning. "I'm a telepath, Mr. Connor, and I get really angry when people lie to me," she purred at him, but there was no comfort to be had in the softening of her tone as she leaned forward and locked gazes with him.

Oh yeah, this one was creepy, he allowed. But she wasn't really threatening him, her body language was a little more subtle than that. She wanted him to know that she could be a threat, but was more interested in whatever it was that she wanted. Which meant she had a deep personal stake in this somewhere. Dangerous to mess with people with deep stakes like that.

"All right, let's say I could arrange it. What exactly am I to tell him?" he asked cooperatively, let Magneto deal with her if she was a threat. She was beyond his simple misdirection skills. And angry telepaths who could slam doors that heavy without touching them weren't really people he wanted to fuck with.

"Tell him Ar...no...Tell him MindDancer wants a meeting. But he has to contact today, before four," she told him, sliding a small piece of paper with a phone number written down. "That is my cell phone, he can reach me there to choose a time and place."
MindDancer? Jack boggled, as he took the phone number from her. He'd heard of her, even though he hadn't been able to place her by sight. She was one of the X-men, mutants who played by the ridiculous laws imposed on him, spending nearly every waking moment in public service. And she wanted to see Magneto? He squelched a spurt of curiosity, whatever her problems her they weren't his, and only a fool would try to change that fact.

"Understood, Miss Jenner. I trust you have your cell phone one you now?" When she nodded, he smiled and continued soothingly. "Then I will get the message to him promptly."
"Thank you," she said simply, turning and letting herself out more conventionally than her arrival. He'd been right, it had been a deliberate show. Once he was convinced she'd actually left, he quickly dialed the contact number. "Mr. Lensherr, there is a very determined young woman requesting a meeting, with a contact deadline of four o'clock today. She said to tell you that MindDancer would like to see you." He paused, listening to the startled reply, and read the man the numbers before hanging up. From the sound of his clients voice, she was going to get what she wanted.

His part in the little drama unfolding around him over, he put the entire matter from his mind and continued his research.