Disclaimer: I am a chicken. David Boreanaz beware.

Soo… I'm going to try and make this the last chapter for this story. Don't worry, though, Salla will have her own story soon, I can't just leave a character like her, Hehehe. She's Übercool as a young woman.

Reviews svp!

…Still no accents, sorry, lol.

-------o(O)o------

Mystique had been upstairs in the house, and although she had heard the racket Pietro was making and the screams of a girl, she decided not to venture down until she was sure the white haired psychopath had left. When she heard the slam of a door, she rushed downstairs to see what had happened.

The sight made even her hard heart clench in disgust. The girl who mothered her child tied to a chair, slumped backwards, with a puddle of blood around her. The blue-skinned woman stepped over to her and pulled her head back to examine her; it was clear she was dead even from the distance, but she wanted to know how. A gash on her throat told her all she needed to know.

She sighed, angry with Pietro for getting himself into so much trouble. The rest of the house was empty - Mystique wasn't sure that the speed demon even knew she was staying there. He had been in a little insular world of his own recently, and now she knew why. Her mind raced as she tried to decide what to do, then with a sickened feeling in her stomach she realised someone was outside, on their way in, and she made a swift decision. With movements that told of her flustered situation - unusual for such a cold, calm woman - she untied the body with her shaking hands and carried it to the cupboard under the stairs and left it there, making sure it was locked. She moved the chair into the kitchen and chucked a rug over the bloodstains on the carpet, then raced to the door, changing her form as she did so. Mystique had made up her mind. She didn't want her daughter growing up on the wrong side.

They had been steadying themselves to see something terrifying, a bloodied body in the middle of the room for example, yet the relief overwhelmed Remy when he saw the beautiful, smiling form of Siannagh standing as if waiting for them, her hands tucked behind her back. Logan, in his surprise, forgot to check it was really her. Mystique, of course, had been counting on that.

Without a word, she hugged Remy. She had seen Siannagh with this man and knew she had loved him so this, she decided, would probably help her stayed disguised for a while at least. Hopefully it would be long enough.

"You alright, chere?" Remy asked, surveying her as she stepped away from the hug. "You're not hurt?"

"He bruised me, but I'm alright," she said, putting an effectively scared quiver in her voice. "Can we go home?"

"Where is he?" growled Logan, pushing past her to look inside. Mystique's body tensed - the smell of blood was obvious, even to a normal nose without enhanced senses. Luckily, Logan was still immensely angry and didn't pick up on it as she grabbed his wrist to halt him.

"He's gone," she said quickly, pulling him back outside gently. "He ran away when he heard you. Please. Let's go. Have you got Salla?"

"She's in the van," nodded Remy, slipping a hand into her's reassuringly. Mystique felt awkward, but being such a good actress she managed to hide it as he lead her to the van. "There, chere. She's a bit rattled."

"Oh, Salla! Come and see your mother," she said, forgetting herself momentarily. Xavier glanced across, his eyes wide, and Mystique heard the ominous sound of claws being bared behind her. She shut her eyes and swore, then grabbed Salla in a fluid motion. Her true form appeared, which caused a giggle from the three-year-old. Mystique scowled, and held Salla to her chest. "You can't hurt me while I'm holding my daughter."

"I can try," snarled Wolverine. Kurt was crouched, ready to leap at her, but they were too slow. Logan hesitated, then leant forwards swiftly to gash her bared stomach. She was ready. With reflexes that would shame Pietro, she did a dodging leap and ran, swiftly and easily despite her crazily high shoes she had taken a liking to. Midrun, her shape changed to that of a young random mother so people couldn't see a blue woman running down the street. Logan followed her as fast as he could, but the others had the horrible sinking feeling it was pointless to do so. The revved up the engine, however, and followed after them as soon as Remy had re-entered the vehicle and sat himself at the driving seat.

There was a crowd of police around a police car nearby, and Mystique grasped the opportunity. She rushed over to them, out of breath, and held her daughter even closer to her in a strangled embrace. Salla, surprisingly, didn't appear in the slightest bit phased by all this and hadn't uttered a sound. A tall, bulky policeman placed a hand on her shoulder and the normally-blue woman forced out some salty fake tears.

"They're after me," she gasped, exaggerating her breathlessness to her advantage. Logan wasn't far behind, an his claws were retracted. She leant on the poor policeman, who called the others over to help her.

"Mystique, you bitch, give her back to me," Logan growled. "She's ours. You can't take her."

"She's my daughter, I can do what I want with her!" she cried.

"Is this the father of the child?" the confuddled policeman asked.

"Gods no, that would be terrible," Mystique said. "He has been chasing me, saying that Salla - my baby - is his. She's not his."

"Who is the father?"

"Her father is dead, so I know that she is not his," she claimed. "Please. Help me. Make them stay away."

With a smirk, she watched as the crowd of law keepers huddled around Logan, and while he was distracted, she ran. With the spare change she kept with her, she boarded a bus with no idea where it was headed. It didn't matter. She had her child, someone to care for at last who wouldn't reject her. She had the plans in her head. Salla would grow up happy and healthy, hidden of course as her visible mutation would cause her trouble, but at least she would have someone to show her the way.

Someone to love her, now her other mother was dead.

-------o(O)o--------

And that, as they say, is the end.