Sung to the refrain of 'I've Seen Fire and I've Seen Rain': I've seen Storm and I've seen Kurt. I've seen beserker rages that must have really hurt. I've seen Iceman reject Northstar as a "friend". But I still don't own the rights to the X-Men.


2:00 PM Friday
A bright, sunny, afternoon.

Dysis strolls down the street with an envelope in hand, tosses it in the air, and allows a breeze to sweep it underneath the door of a bar.

She smiled as an old couple went by, and continued on her way home.

* * *


5:15 PM Friday

"Yo Andy, ya got a letter!" the bartender yelled across the room.

Fontaine looked over in the general direction, let out a sigh that he did not even have a chance to hang up his coat, and worked his way through the crowded bar. Friday nights... everyone needs a drink on pay day... he half thought, half muttered to himself. He snatched the letter from the man behind the bar and worked his way to the basement door. As he jogged down the stairs, he looked at at the envelope. It was clearly addressed to him and the bar, but there was no return address. Had he not been so frazzled from a long day and a loud bar, he might have thought about it longer. He didn't.

He hit the bottom of the flight of stairs and looked up at the guys. This area in the basement acted as a meeting room to discuss heists and the such, but on Friday nights, it was the hang out to keep away from the drunks who blew half their paychecks on cheap booze. There were only about seven of them down there tonight, as opposed to the usual ten or fifteen or so. Fontaine had long got past the strange sight of the most powerful criminals in the city sitting around, having drinks, and talking about their kids and the such. It kept things clean, they had found... made them a family, so there were not senseless competitions.

Grabbing a letter opener, he slit the envelope and took out the piece of paper located within, tossing the envelope on the floor.

"Pick up after ya self!" Ed yelled jokingly. He was the nicest out of all of them, and was always the one to break the tension, buy the drinks, or whatever he could to make the little "club" they had a better place.

Fontaine smiled at Ed, and unfolded the paper, reading it at a murmur, just enough so someone listening could just about pick up what was being said.

Hello Mr. Fontaine,

We felt it important to notify you that a person, who has only disclosed his name to us as Touch, has found himself in the utmost trouble at our facility. We have the most sincere plans of torturing him and getting out all of those little secrets that you and your club find to be so important. If this information, or his life (which I doubt) has any meaning to you, you would be wise to make an appearance at my abode. I'm sure a man of your stature could easily locate where I am, so I won't waste time in giving directions. We hope to be seeing you soon.

Dysis


He stared at the letter for a moment, and was about to crumble it, when words printed in a small font on the other side of the paper caught his eye.

PS Mr. Fontaine - In case there is a lack of motivation for you going, or a surplus of faith in Touch, there is an explosive inside the envlope that is triggered when the seal is broken.

Enjoy


Fontaine heard a buzz coming from somewhere in the room. He looked towards Ed, who was examining the envelope which seemed to be emitting the buzzing noise.

There was not a second for reaction. The explosion ripped into Ed, overwheling his body in seconds, and slamming into the rest of the room.

Fontaine pulled himself off the ground, standing admist a flood of smoke and dust, coughing up a lung. He took a step forward, then another, and still another, before his foot hit into something soft. He bent down and felt a suit, and moved his hands up until he felt the neck and tried to find a pulse. Before he could catch a pulse though, the smoke lifted. And he looked into Ed's eyes... because they were the only part of him that was recognizable.

There was no pulse.

* * *


7:30 PM Friday

Fontaine stood in a building that he had only stepped into two times in his entire life. The first time was when he was no more than seventeen or eighteen years old, and was working as an assistant to his uncle, who had gotten him in the business. The second was when he was in his late 20s, and he was accepted as one of the youngest members of this "family" he had been a part of for years. It was a place for the family to share joy. It was a place for the family to sorrow.

It was a place for the family to handle business.

He looked into the sea of faces. Most of them he knew. Some he did not. There were easily three hundred people amassed in the crowd.

"You all know why we are here. Some of you know better than others, for you knew Edward Lando. And any of you who knew him, loved him, because he was often the glue that held us together." Fontaine attempted to symbolize this, but the sling he had been restricted to made him wince as he moved his arm towards his other arm. "He was killed tonight by someone who has threatened the integrity of our entire organization. None of you has to participate in what we are going to do. But those who do, will avenge his death." These final words were spoken with tears in his eyes.

The crowd, which was normally light hearted or strictly business, were all stunned at seeing this man who was usually joking or flirting on the verge of a breakdown. Had the death not moved them, his words would have.

"We know where this threat is. We know who this threat is. We act tonight. Midnight. Meet here in four hours if you're in."

He calmly stepped off the podium. He talked and shook hands with old friends, introduced himself to new ones, and left.

He came back four hours later, and every person was there, armed with a batallion's worth of firearms. They would all have their revenge.