Disclaimer: Once again we all know that the characters used belong all to Marvel, the cute little guys who tell me time and time again that wearing plaid and stripes is a bad thing.

Author Notes: First thing, thank you todd fan, furygrrl and 'me' for reviewing the fics, it's once again nice to know that someone out there is reading all of this stuff. ^_^ The entire timeline and other such goodies can be found at www.originofspecies.cjb.net (newly renovated!)

Conversations in the Light
By starched_undergarments

Ororo Monroe was not one to lose her cool, although for the past few days Mystique had really been pushing her luck. At any given opportunity she would rub it in the X-men's faces that she was in control, a sick sadistic glimmer shining out from her yellowed eyes.

Currently, Storm was stationed out in the back yard, her body tense and alert. She knew that the Brotherhood's home wouldn't be safe for much longer; she and Mystique had gone out scouting for a new base yet had came up empty handed. She could feel how the weather bent to her mood, how there seemed to be a constant dry crackling in the air.

A storm was approaching.

"Auntie O?"

She turned and smiled wearily as her nephew walked cautiously over to her. "Yes, Evan?"

"Can I talk to you? About our, you know, 'current situation'?"

She nodded and watched as he looked around suspiciously, as if spies were lurking amongst the shadows. And in this house, you never could be too sure.

"I've been talking to Kitty and we think we might know how to find the Professor."

Storm studied her nephew for a moment. "Go on," she said, noticing how serious his eyes were.

"Well it's like this: ol' Snake-lips had got us pinned because she's got the Prof right? And Jean can't probe her mind right?"

Storm nodded slowly, curious to know where he was going with this. "And?" She prompted, feeling a little impatient.

"So lets just get Rogue to grab her and suck it right out of the bitch!" He hissed exasperatedly.

She was about to explain to Evan the flaws in his plan when she stopped; it was so simple and yet so obvious that she almost laughed. Yes, Mystique's powers had advanced so far that Jean couldn't probe her, and Wolverine hadn't been able to detect her, but there was no way she could avoid Rogue's touch.

"By the Bright Lady," she whispered and hugged her nephew tightly, relief flooding her heart. "Go and get Scott and Rogue," she said and took at deep breath as he ran off into the house.

Professor, she thought, We're coming for you.

***

"We need to talk." Scott Summers said sternly, his face serious.

Mystique smirked and waved her hand nonchalantly at him. "What about Mr. Summers?"

He took a step towards her and she held up her hand, halting him. "What is it you really want, Mystique?" he asked flatly. Mystique eyed the boy with her cat-like eyes before walking over to him, confident in every move. Face to face she was a good foot shorter than him but she snarled up at him the very same.

"Power, revenge. The simple things in life," She spat, enjoying the way he stiffened with discomfort.

"Tell us where he is," he tried. Mystique could almost taste his hope. She laughed, a harsh cruel sound that echoed against the dirty walls.

"Keep dreaming little X-man," she said with a malicious grin but stopped when she saw his face.

He was smiling. An almost ironic smile.

"Well, it's time you got a rude awakening then, bitch."

He lunged and she dodged him, turning her back on the narrow hallway that was now behind her. She brought her leg up fast, getting ready to deliver a painful yet not-quite-fatal blow to the back of the boy's head when she felt hands on her face and neck.

Rogue.

She could barley make an audible groan before she collapsed onto the floor, unconscious.

Scott shoved her prone body with his foot, making sure that Mystique was in fact down for the count. He looked up at Rogue to congratulate her when he stopped short.

She was crying.

***

When both Scott and Storm had approached her only moments before, Rogue had eyed them warily. The plan was for Scott to distract Mystique and force her to focus on the Professor while she moved in from the rear and grabbed her.

She had declined at first, her stomach sinking. Mystique's mind was not something she wanted another taste of; the first time had been bad enough. But when she had looked up at Scott, his face pleading with her, she agreed.

Now she regretted it fully.

She stood motionless, tears pouring down her pale face, memories flooding her mind.

Betrayal, pain, love, hate… all these things came in waves at her. She could see Kurt, feel the pain and sadness he evoked within her. She could see the Professor, weak and helpless. And a pair of ice blue eyes, staring at her with animal hunger.

But most of all she saw herself, intimate moments of friendship, of trust. It all came together like one sadistic jig-saw puzzle, she knew why and what was.

Mystique was her mother.

***

When Todd Tolensky head the first thud he dismissed it, thinking that it was probably just Lance trying to jump Kitty, the bubbly X-man who kept him unintentionally on a leash. However when he heard the second dull thud he looked up from his position of the couch, his eyebrows knitting together in concern.

Probably nothing, he thought to himself and shook off a strange, impending feeling of dread. He had more important things to think about at the moment.

It was time to proceed with his 'secret-strategic-arm-placement' plan.

He yawned and stretched out his arms, keeping an eye on Wanda, who sat next to him. Carefully he tried to bring his arm down casually, hoping that she was too absorbed in the T.V. program to notice his move.

"Any part of you that touches me you're not getting back," Wanda informed him flatly, her eyes never leaving the flashing screen.

He pulled back his arm and slumped further into the sagging couch. She was a smart cookie…he would have to think of a better way to get close. Sneaking a peek at her once more he saw that she had turned her head towards the stairs, her eyes narrowed and suspicious.

Todd sighed. He couldn't help it… he liked Wanda. Like a lot. Of course the only person who knew or really cared was Fred. The two had sat together many nights up in his room, discussing different plans and possible smooth moves he could try in order to woo her. The only problem was that neither of them had ever had girlfriends, or dates, nor even close contact with a girl for that matter.

So they had decided that he should go with what they could learn from the movies and play the part of the hero or the smooth stud. The problem was that Wanda wasn't like any of the women in the movies; she was completely unique.

He sighed again and ran his eyes over her body, noticing each and every detail he had come to love about her. Her cropped hair, her dark eyes, those long eyelashes, and her nose, which, like Pietro's, was almost exactly like her father's. It was odd, the two twins looked a like yet were almost polar opposites.

Light and dark, black and white, good and evil… okay more like Evil and Angry, but you got the idea.

Wanda stood up suddenly, her eyes still on the staircase. Todd turned and saw Scott come in, carrying an unconscious Rogue in his arms. Storm was close behind, her white hair streaming about her wildly.

"Put her down there Scott," Storm told him and Todd watched as he laid the goth girl down with surprising compassion.

"What the hell happened to her?" Lance blurted out. He had come in from the kitchen, a glass of dirty water in one hand.

Scott ignored him and called to Kurt who had been sitting near a window looking out it forlornly. "Go and get the rest of the team," he said. Lance set his water down and walked into the room, his eyes hard and angry. Rogue might be an X-man, but she had been with them first and out of all of them Lance still held a small amount of respect and liking for her.

"What did you do to her?" he asked the X-man furiously. Todd stood up and edged toward Wanda.

"I didn't do anything to her, you dick," Scott spat suddenly at Lance. "Your boss did this."

Lance stopped short andan array of emotions passed over his face: confusion, doubt, and then composure. "How? Why?" He asked, but was ignored. Kurt had re-appeared next to Scott his face concerned and fearful.

"Scott, mien friend we have a small problem. Mystique is no longe,r urmmm 'down for the count' as you called it."

It was then that they heard the angry yell from the entrance hall. Scott looked to Storm who was completely calm, except for her eyes. They were crackling with white fire.

The Storm had come.

***

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