Chapter Seven

'The Slayer is an ancient legend. A warrior-maiden, with the strength of Samson and the purity of Our Lady herself. For her faith and courage she is chosen by Our Lord as His instrument on Earth.'

Jubilee squirmed uncomfortably. She'd seen the effect a cross could have on a vampire, and as far as she was concerned that had raised the total number of things Christianity had to offer her to one.

'I'm sorry?' Kurt could see her discomfort.

'Nothing.' She replied.

'Please…'

'I just have crucifixion issues, okay? So, y'know, less of the God Squad programming.' Kurt sighed.

'Jubilation, I will not try to force my faith upon you. But in return, it would be a politeness on your part to respect my beliefs.' He sounded slightly disappointed.

'Right. But Faith's about as pure as that Roman chick with the weird name.' Kurt looked at her patiently. 'Y'know, the one in that movie which you showed us with all the old English guys.'

'Valeria Messalina.' Kurt had been somewhat surprised to find himself working as a Classics teacher, and, faced with a classful of disinterested teenagers, had resorted to using I, Claudius as a teaching aid. 'That sounds to me a little extreme, Jubilation. Faith may indeed be a startlingly outgoing person, but this is most likely an act.'

'She slept with Remy last night.' Jubilee couldn't help but break into a grin at his expression.

'The Slayer has… der Teufel, sagen sie? I should scarcely believe it. Then, perhaps, all that I know of this thing is now false.'

'Huh?'

'I have read that the Slayer is a warrior of purity and… faith.' They shared a slight smile. 'For all her virtues, the girl Faith seems neither pure nor… devout.'

'Okay. But what can the Slayer do?'

'Do? The Slayer is a warrior. She fights like none on Earth.'

Faith blocked Wolverine's first punches effortlessly; his fists were heavy, but slow, and she immediately guessed he must be holding back. She countered with a couple of jabs to his chest, which felt like punching a brick wall. The big man staggered backwards, grinning, and then came at her, moving faster this time. She dodged, and blocked, and felt an impact like a cloth-wrapped sledgehammer explode against her shoulder, and then kicked him in the ribs hard enough to spin him through the air. He hit the ground hard, but came up instantly into a fighting crouch. He was still grinning.

'Smooth, kid.' He told her.

She smiled right back at him, and moved forwards.

When the combat began, Cyclops had retreated to one corner to observe. He had, shortly after Logan's return to the mansion, urged the feral mutant to go with him to martial arts classes in order to improve his fighting style; although an immensely talented hand-to-hand combatant, Wolverine's technique was unrefined, and Scott reckoned he could be so much more. Watching the man fight, though, he always gained the impression that what was really needed was not training but simply rediscovery; Logan might to the casual eye seem to fight like an untrained brawler, but there were traces of half-a-dozen styles in his stance and movement. Deadly as he might be now, it seemed to Cyclops that his teammate had once been even more dangerous.

He and Faith had a lot in common, though. Like him, she was more talent than skill, using astonishing speed and strength to beat her opponent down. Like him, too, she had traces of training in her movements; rather less, but clearly she had at some point made an effort to refine her techniques.

Scott winced as Faith used Logan's arm as a handle to slam his skull into the floor, which dented. Logan responded by knocking her down with a clumsy kick to the jaw. The two combatants pushed themselves to their feet; both seemed somewhat unsteady, but still moved well.

Faith spat blood onto the floor. She was still smiling.

'We got any rules in here?' She asked.

'Just one. No weapons.' Wolverine replied, and feinted a punch to her face before kicking her legs out from under her. She rolled straight back onto her feet, blocking frantically as her opponent launched a series of rapid blows at her. She staggered under the weight of his attacks before suddenly reaching up and catching his right fist in mid punch, using it as a support to flip backwards, plant one booted foot on his chest, and smash the other heel into his face. Blood burst from Wolverine's nose. Faith landed easily, twisting his arm round to throw him into the nearest wall. He hit with an audible clang.

'Jeez. You made of metal, or something?' She asked, adjusting her stance. Cyclops reckoned he could see something of Tai Chi Chuan in the way she placed her feet.

'Or something.' Wolverine had landed on his feet, apparently unaffected by an impact that would have crippled a normal man.

'I think that's enough.' Cyclops spoke up. Neither glanced in his direction.

'I don't think we're done yet.'

'What he said.' Faith shrugged off her jacket, and threw it to one side. 'Can you still walk, or do I have to go all the way over there to kick your ass?' Wolverine charged.

'They're not there.' Cordelia said.

'We will have to go without them, then.'

'Yeah. Let's go interrogate a New York bartender with no authority whatsoever. What do we tell the police? "I'm sorry, officer, but I couldn't be bothered to wait for the proper authorities"? We're looking for a rogue Slayer, Wes. We can't go after her alone. She'll kill us both, especially you.'

'We can continue tracking her down, at least. It never hurts to make inquiries.'

'Speaking of, where do you think our friendly neighbourhood government agents have vanished to?'

Veronica Sawyer was not sure where she had been expecting to meet the local leader of what Bishop had referred to as the 'Mutant Underground'. She certainly hadn't expected it to be a corporate office building on Manhattan Island. If she had, she wouldn't have expected her partner to lead her straight in through the entrance lobby.

They were clearly expected. Two security guards ushered them towards a lift, discreetly hidden at the back of the lobby. When they stepped inside the doors immediately slid closed, and they began moving upwards at what felt like considerable speed.

'This place...' Sawyer said after a moment.

'Not what you expected?' Bishop replied. 'If I can pass, why not others?'

'Yeah, but... this is an international conglomerate. How'd a mutant get that kind of money?'

'You think mutants just appear?' He asked. 'We're human too, Veronica. It's just people like Hodge often forget that.'

'And some of them are born rich?'

'Some of them are born rich, white and pretty.' He agreed. 'And Warren Worthington is the richest, whitest and prettiest of them all.'

'And he runs the Mutant Underground? He's a personal friend of Cameron Hodge. He was a major contributor to his father's election campaign.'

'He's not in charge. He just runs a local cell.' Bishop paused.

'You're going to kill me if I say the wrong thing, aren't you?' Sawyer asked.

'No. And that's one reason why I didn't tell you all this long before.'

There was a soft chime, and the doors slid open.

Wolverine's fists slammed into Faith's back, bearing her to the ground. She grunted in pain, and then rolled clear as he attempted to follow up, scissoring her legs to kick him in both sides of his head at once. Knocked off balance, the big man hit the ground at the same time as she came to her feet. She smashed a brutal kick to his stomach, lifting him off the ground, but he didn't seem to feel the impact, rising to a crouch before leaping at her throat. His weight bore her to the ground, and she frantically snapped her elbows into his face before rolling clear. She scrambled away as he once more stood upright.

Both combatants were beginning to look distinctly battered, the injuries they were inflicting beginning to exceed their powers of recuperation. But after half an hour, Faith was only just beginning to breathe hard; Wolverine showed no signs of fatigue.

Faith began circling her opponent. Logan reacted by shifting sideways until he was standing against the wall. Faith snarled, and rushed forward, driving a punch into his face with such force that his skull dented the wall behind. She followed it with two more punches, before smashing a roundhouse kick into his ribs. Wolverine managed to block a couple of attacks, but Faith was faster and stronger than him. The mutant was born to the ground, and Faith attempted to capitalise by stamping on his ribs. Unfortunately, the bones still proved unbreakable; knocked off balance, she staggered sideways, and Wolverine was able to kick her legs out from under her. The two of them rolled apart, and once more pushed themselves upright.

Any normal human would have collapsed long before, Cyclops realised, but these two were nowhere near finished. Wolverine was leaning against the wall, finally feeling the burn, and Faith was limping slightly – but, he knew, neither would show such weakness for long.

'Remy?'

'Rogue? Y' decided t' give up on de Drake boy and see what Gambit has to offer?'

'Thanks, sugah, but ah don't like sharing.' She smiled sweetly. 'You and Faith have fun together?' Gambit paused. He could tell he was in trouble, but it wasn't immediately clear why. Yes, he'd slept with Faith – at her instigation – but it wasn't as if Rogue had any claim on either of them. She was, to his disappointment, insistent on sticking with her nice, funny, boring boyfriend.

'Gambit knows he did.' He decided to stick with what worked, which meant strong sexual innuendo coupled with lashings of charm. 'Didn't hear no complaints from Fait' either, him.' He smirked at her.

Rogue was stalled by this tactic, simply because she hadn't imagined such a response.

'Can't help but wonder why you want to know.' Gambit went on.

'Because you don't do that, Remy.' She replied.

'Do what? Get jumped by un joli souris avec superhuman strength? De girl wasn't exactly asking permission. Faith, she just come out of prison, n'est ce pas? This thief can't help it if he de first t'ing she sees.'

The elevator doors slid back to admit the two FBI agents to Warren Worthington's penthouse office. A massive balcony took up nearly half the top floor of the building, while inside the office of the CEO and principal shareholder of one of the fifty or so biggest corporations in the world was carefully minimalist. The man himself was tall and lean, blond-haired and blue eyed, with broad shoulders and a dancer's waist. He moved like he was dancing as well, striding swiftly around the stainless-steel desk to shake Bishop's hand and then turning to Sawyer with a smile that displayed a quite dazzling set of orthodontic work.

She stuck her gun in his face.

'Hi.' She said as brightly as she was able. 'My name's Sawyer, and I've had a fucking awful week. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't arrest you on suspicion of conspiracy to pervert the course of justice.'

'Probable cause?' He asked her politely.

'I think you're a mutant.'

'Then you're correct.' He replied. 'But you'd look rather foolish making that declaration in a court of law. Money can buy a lot of things, miss Sawyer, and paperwork to prove my, as people are already beginning to put it, 'genetic purity', was surprisingly cheap.' He began to unfasten his tie. 'But with that out in the open, if you don't mind I'm going to dress down.'

As Veronica Sawyer watched in suspicion, he removed his tie and jacket, and then unbuttoned his shirt. Beneath he wore a lightweight T-shirt that, it was revealed, was split up the back. She had never seen anything like what followed.

After a moment Bishop interrupted her astonished reverie. 'Like I said, he's rich, white and pretty.'

'They're beautiful.' She said reverently. Worthington's wings beat down, once, and the resultant draught indicated their massive power. He smiled at her again.

She had to ask, even though it was obvious that everyone else did, too.

'Can you actually . . .'

'Would you like me to take you flying?' The man – he looked more like an angel – asked by way of an answer.

'And then drop me?' She asked, and laughed, slightly nervously. 'I didn't come here to play around.'

'I'm not trying to distract you.' Worthington told her. 'They just always seem to have that effect.'

Logan had Faith on the ground, her left arm twisted back and up in what looked to Scott like an exceptionally painful position. It didn't seem to be troubling her, though; her free hand was groping its way along her opponent's upper arm, making its way towards his throat. The Danger Room was silent except for the ragged breathing of the two combatants; both had long since given up on taunting, focussing all remaining energy on staying ahead, in the case of Faith, and staying upright, in the case of Logan.

Faith's hand caught Wolverine's collar, and she twisted. Her left shoulder dislocated with a wet crunching noise, and Wolverine hit the ground three feet away. The girl rolled over, rising on to her left knee and axing her right heel into his solar plexus, using the impact to spring herself to her feet and spin into a kick at his head. Wolverine was sent spinning, sliding away across the smooth metal floor. Faith started after him, left arm swinging at an obscene angle, but then seemed to remember herself.

She hurled herself sideways into the nearest wall, grunting in pain as the impact forced her shoulder back into its socket. Then she ran across the room, and kicked Wolverine in the balls.

He gave a snarl of rage, and delivered an uppercut to the girl's chin.

Charles Gunn looked at the 'phone. He looked at the slip of paper with Xavier's number on it. He looked back at the 'phone. And then he looked at his wallet, open to the picture of Alonna. He had no pictures of Alonna's friend; she hadn't liked being photographed. She had liked fighting, he remembered, her speed almost making up for her small size. She had liked a lot of things. She had liked taking Alonna shoplifting for horrible clothes and useless costume jewellery. She had liked to steal him T-shirts with stupid slogans on, and then the two girls would conspire to make him wear them, even if he did add a sweatshirt over the top. She had liked to make him smile, and Alonna laugh. She had no way of knowing that Alonna was dead, and that he no longer had any idea what he was doing.

He picked up the 'phone, and dialled.

'I'll get it!' Jubilee broke away from her increasingly awkward conversation with Kurt, and ran for the student 'phone.

Faith pushed herself up onto her hands and knees, and paused for a moment, trying to gather her strength.

Across from her Wolverine, slumped against the wall, had managed to find the mangled remains of a cigar in one of his shirt pockets.

Faith managed to lever herself into an almost upright position before rocking back onto her haunches and gasping for air.

Logan attempted to speak, but had to pause to spit out the blood and saliva that had filled his mouth.

'Got a light?' He finally managed. Cyclops, striding across the room towards Faith, flipped him a book of matches without looking.

Pained brown eyes stared up from a bruised and bloodied face at the young man who had orchestrated the hour-long brawl.

'Feel better?' He asked her. She felt crazed laughter bubbling up inside her, and felt herself falling backwards. Lying flat on her back and gazing at the steel-panelled ceiling, Faith let herself laugh out loud for what felt like the first time in forever.

She didn't stop laughing until she started crying.