Author's Note: More Hellfire fun. Sebastian Shaw makes an appearance. Why won't he just die?? *sigh* Maybe next fight. Just a note… it can get a bit confusing, but Chris, Isabel, and Brita are the same person, and none are who the OC really is. So her name changes between them depending on who she "is" at that moment. I hope y'all aren't TOO confuzzled. We get to have some fun Sam/OC sexual tension and a drunk Remy. What more could you want??

Disclaimer: I own a car. I just got it. Eeep. *dances around* And you can't have it. Off topic. Point? Don't own X-Men or Marvel. Sorry.

Shout outs: Hey, thanks y'all. I'm glad people are reading this, despite the "OC" connotations. I REALLY appreciate it!! ^_^ - Aro: Glad you liked the X-Treme Team interacting. I think they have the camaraderie missing from the rest of the current X-Books. Good thing it's getting cancelled… Grrr… *glares angrily for a while* Bishop is like Rogue, okay. Not touching that one. :P I think Bish was in shock, that's why he hesitated. Not 'cause he wanted Remy to be mauled, I don't think. Hmmm… Glad you liked it!! Thanks for reviewing!! - T.: Yeah, Chris is kinda a b*tch. This is true. I like to think she had reason to be, but *shrugs* to each his (or her) own. Dude, I think her dad deserves it tho. I was trying to make him an a$$hole. The X-Men will find out 'bout her, eventually. But first, there will be romance, tears, sex, and violence. In that order, I think. Anyway, thanks for the review!! - Ishandahalf: So, I was reading Khay's story and I noticed she asked about your penname… and, uh, yeah. I was wondering the same stuff myself. *wiggles eyebrows comically* So… what's the deal?? *crickets chirp* COME BACK ISH!! Anyway, damn strait with the flattery. You're like the UBER ROMY reviewer. And I am honored to have you review my humble fics. Angst free ROMYness it is, and will stay that way. Because I will it to be. And I figured I'd give 'em a break for a change. Yeah, she did go a li'l psycho. But, well, she's prone to berserker rages… which will be delved into more later. I feel worse for Remy too, 'specially after he became all depressed over it. She is setting them up, this is true; however, it's just business after all. Think about it, Remy steals, but it's just "business"… this is kinda the same. And she's not trying to kill them or anything, 'xept maybe Remy a li'l. Well, it does say, "Sam/OC" in the summary. Interpret as you will. ^_~ Thanks for the UBER sweet review!! - RealityDreamer: Aw thanks. You're UBER sweet to compliment me. *blushes* I'm glad you don't mind the OC factor. ^_^ Thank you for the review!!

"talking" - 'thinking' - foreign languages/memories/dreams

What Never Happened

by, Caliente

Chapter 4 – Uncomfortable Encounters

Chris smiled as she entered her room and closed the door. 'Shopping,' she thought. 'Haven't done that in a while. Or ever.' She sat on her bed, and found the white crop top t-shirt and cloud print boxer shorts that Rogue had left for her to wear to bed. Chris emptied her pockets, finding a silver cell phone, a black palm pilot, and her keys. She looked at her cell phone and sighed. Almost as if the phone had heard her, it rang. She glanced at the blinking name Diablo and sighed again, flipping open her phone. "Hallo Shaw, my Black Keeng," she stated with a heavy Slavic accent.

"Brita my dear, how are you?" Sebastian Shaw greeted in a jovial manner.

Rolling her eyes, Brita responded, "I've been better. I'm stuck vatching over your Black Rook. Actually, he vas Selene's Black Rook. Vhy ever did you keep heem?"

"Don't you think it's wise to have a spy or two in Xavier's X-Corp?" Shaw asked haughtily. "And who better than the person running a branch of the operation?"

"Yes, but–" Brita tried to argue her point but was cut off.

Sebastian interrupted her, "And who are you to question me?"

"I am sorry, my Black Keeng," Brita apologized. "I deed not mean to ovfend you."

"No offense taken," Shaw assured her. "What have you found."

"As vas suspected, Manuel ees addicted to Rave," Brita relayed the information she learned. "But I reminded heem ov his loyalties to Bogan and Hellfire. He seemed to get zhe message. I zhink Sunspot veell regain control for Hellfire. He seems capable enough. But only time veell tell."

"Very good," Black Keeng told her. "Keep it up and continue to put pressure on X-Corp. They need it."

"Yes sir," Brita said stiffly. "Is zhere anyzing else you need?"

"No," Sebastian's tone became huskier, "but I miss you. When you return, perhaps we can continue what we started…"

Brita shuddered slightly at his innuendo, and inwardly cursed her father for forcing her to find a way into Hellfire. Why did her way in have to be through Shaw's bed. Ugh. "Ve'll see vhat happens vhen I return. I have to go. Good-bye my Black Keeng."

"Good-bye White Bishop," Shaw purred into the phone.

Chris flipped her phone shut and shuddered again. 'Sebastian Shaw. Ew. Sometimes I really hate my job.' She felt the sudden urge to wash herself, her talk with Shaw leaving her feeling dirty. Chris kicked off her Pumas and removed the Sais blades she had strapped to her ankles, slipping them under her pillow. Then she removed her wig and undressed. She wrapping herself in a towel and her natural hair in a smaller turban to hide it. Walking down the hall to the room that Rogue pointed out as the bathroom, Chris was absorbed in her thoughts. Opening the door, she found a sink and another door leading to the shower and toilet. She didn't bother to lock the bathroom door, just the second door that had the shower. She carefully removed the silver puzzle ring that rested on her right ring finger, before turning on the hot water. As she stepped into the shower, she felt the pain wash away. The heat leaving her numb. No emotion, the way it should be. She felt the hot water burn her body and the steam surround her, but she let the warmth envelop her.

When she was through, Chris re-wrapped herself in her towel, using a smaller one to make a turban for her hair. Deciding she was dry, Chris slipped her ring back on before opening the door to find a nearly naked Sam brushing his teeth. The Southern boy was clad only in a pair of red plaid flannel boxers, and he looked like a little boy with his hair disheveled and toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. Chris stood in the doorway, with a 'dear caught in headlights' expression. She couldn't help but ogle his well formed muscles. 'Rock hard chest, 6-pack tight abs…' she tried to shake this line of thoughts. "Uh… uhm… Dios." Chris found herself unable to say any more.

Sam turned to the door when he heard it open. Standing at the threshold was Chris. Clad only in a towel. Chris. Towel. Nothing else. Sam felt his ears heat up and the blood running south, but he couldn't look away. The way that she was barely covered the piece of cloth… it outlined her breasts and curvaceous hips. The light blue color made her light tan skin glow. He was in awe, slowly raking his eyes over her long legs, slim waist, and breasts. 'Damn,' was the only coherent, and PG, thought running through his mind. He heard her struggle for words and quickly focused, silently berating himself for acting like Remy. He was supposed to be a gentleman after all. "Uh, Chris Ah just came in ta brush my teeth –" 'She can see that idiot; why did you point it out?' he mentally scolded himself. "– an' hop inta the shower fo' a moment." 'Yeah, a cold one,' he continued silently. 'A very cold one.' "The door… it was open…" he added as explanation, feeling the blush spread down his neck.

"Right," Chris nodded, her own cheeks flaming. "I'll let you do that." She brushed past them, feeling his eyes follow her as she moved.

Sam watched her cross the room before he woke up. "Wait, ya don't have ta," he blurted out quickly. Realizing what he said, his blush deepened. "Ah didn't mean it like that." Chris let out an amused laugh and raised an eyebrow at him. "Ah just meant that if ya weren't done, Ah could leave."

Chris smiled. "That's sweet, but I'm done. Gracias anyway." She winked as she shut the door behind her. Wink. There was something familiar about that… "Thanks luv," she told him in a crisp English accent, adding a wink for effect. Then it hit him. 'Isabel Stone.' Now he remembered. For a moment he thought she was the woman who had kissed him. 'Ha, they couldn't be more different. Funny how they have the same effect on me though.' He glanced down and frowned. 'Better stop this line of thinking and get into the cold shower. Now.'

Chris raced back to her room and slammed the door shut. Breathing hard, she leaned back against the door. "Dios, Dios, Dios," she murmured, her hand on her forehead. "No emotions," she commanded to herself. "Why are you tormenting yourself?" she asked. "Nothing can come of this. And didn't Black Air's profile state that he's dating Lila Cheney. Like you compete with an intergalactic super star." She paused for a moment before realizing what she had jus said. "Not that you want to or anything…" Shaking her head, she allowed herself to remember their first encounter. The kiss.

Running. Isabel Stone was running from S.H.I.E.L.D. 'I can't believe I let them get so close,' she chided herself. Then she smirked. 'But it's nothing I can't handle. I am Christopher Stone the Third's daughter. And he's never been caught.' Her smile grew. 'Of course, neither have I. 'Least, not since I joined Black Air.' She continued racing along the outside of the airport. Glancing behind her, she saw the plain clothed officers racing after her. Then she slammed into a wall. She turned to see that she didn't hit a wall. No, she had to smash into the most handsome blonde haired boy she'd ever seen. He caught her around the waist and she looked up at him. Crap. It was Cannonball. One of the X-Treme team members. She caught his greyish blue eyes. She had two options, take off running again or blend. Option two sounded a whole lot more appealing. Without a second thought, she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him down into a deep kiss. Expecting him to push her away or release her, she was shocked when he tightened his grip and returned the kiss. After she heard the agents race by, she reluctantly pulled away. Remembering herself, Isabel smiled slyly at the handsome boy. "Thanks luv," she added in her perfect, sultry English accent. She even winked at the boy, before sauntering away.

"Wait!" she heard him call after her, but she kept moving. She assumed that the X-Men liked to keep a low profile, so she thought he wouldn't use his mutation. Suddenly, she was grabbed from behind and flying through the air. They flew in silence for a few minutes in silence, then Cannonball landed them.

Isabel quickly regained her bearings, due to her agility. She quickly rebounded, allowing her to immediately assess her situation, 'On an unfamiliar beach with an X-Man, what's the best course of action?' She took another quick look around. 'Running is out since his mutation allows him to catch me without much hassle. Guess it's time for Plan B… lie.' "Can I help you, luv?" she asked, forcing her voice to sound annoyed. "I'm rather busy and this is quite an inconvenience." She placed her hands on her hips with a slight glare.

They chatted for a few minutes, making casual conversation was second nature to Isabel. 'And I could chat with him all day,' she thought, studying him casually. 'His file photograph didn't do him justice at all. He's possibly the most handsome man I've ever seen.' As much as she wanted to stay with Sam, Isabel knew that she had to get a move on. She needed to change for her meeting with X-Corp. "Look, luv, as much fun it is to shoot the breeze with you, I've got to go. I'm late for an appointment. If it isn't too much of a hassle, could you please jet me over to the X-Corp building? I can't miss my meeting."

He looked troubled for a minute but quickly agreed. She thanked him and tried to make a quick getaway. He stopped her again, asking her name. "Oh, it's Isabel Stone," the name rolled off her tongue as if it were actually her own. She could almost hear her father's voice. The key to being a successful spy is not the big lies. It's the little ones that have to be believable. She decided to play along. "It was nice to meet you, uhm…"

"Sam. Samuel Zachery Guthrie to be exact," he supplied with a friendly grin lighting up his face. "Nice ta meet ya too."

"Well, I really have to go. Bye luv," she pecked his cheek before entering the building. With her heightened hearing, she heard him mutter a good-bye after her. Clearing her mind of any thoughts about Sam or the X-Men, Isabel made her way to the bathroom on the second floor. The sign read 'Out of Order'. Isabel grinned. 'Only because I want it to be,' she gloated silently. 'Janitors should always be well paid if you want them to keep your secrets.' She quickly entered and loosened the trash bin. Removing an olive green duffel bag, she quickly dumped out the contents. She slipped off her black stiletto boots, and found her white pinstripe suit. She stripped off her leather pants and blood red halter top. She threw on the suit, removing her black wig. Her real hair was pinned up and covered, allowing her to slip on a braded pale blonde wig. She threw her black boots back on. Quickly, she changed her puzzle rings so that her pale grey eyes became bright blue. Then she fixed her make up so she would be presentable to the leader of the L.A. X-Corp. She stuffed everything back into her duffel bag and hid it again. She walked out of the bathroom and quickly made her way up to the office of Roberto DaCosta. Approaching the secretary she smiled slightly. "Hallo, I have an appointment vis Meester DaCosta," she announced in a decidedly Slavic accent.

"I'm sorry, but he asked not to be disturbed," the secretary's nasally voice responded in a bored tone.

"Not even for a Meess Breeta Kreestof?" she asked in a haughty tone.

"Oh, I'll buzz you in," the secretary's demeanor changed immensely when she realized that this was who his boss wanted. Brita almost laughed, it really was quite comical how fake people are. 'You're one to judge,' she reminded herself. 'Brita, Isabel, Chris, Stealth… who's the real you?' She frowned slightly. 'None of them are me… I'm no one…' she began to sink into a slight depression. 'Snap out of it girl!' she commanded silently. 'You're a professional.'

Stealth was ripped out of her thoughts by a loud crash and a shout. "Hey, that's my furniture Swamp Rat!" she heard Rogue yell.

Her sensitive hearing picked up the response. "Not m'fault chere." she recognized Gambit's accent, though it seemed stronger. "When did dat sofa move dere?" She seethed with anger at his voice.

"Yer drunk Cajun," Rogue groaned angrily. "Ah can't believe ya'd be so stupid." She paused. "Actually Ah can."

"Don' know what you're talking 'bout p'tite," was the slightly slurred reply. "Jus' had a couple o' beers… an' some bourbon… an' a li'l Sout'ern Comfort. T'ough I probly coulda come home f'r dat."

"Probly not," Rogue muttered under her breath. "Why'd ya do it Remy?"

"Le p'tite chat, she be right 'bout me," Remy mumbled. "Didn' do not'ing t'stop Sinister. It's m'fault her mére died. All m'fault." Stealth heard the pain in his voice but it did nothing to quall her anger.

"No it's not," Rogue argued. "All that woulda done is kill you too."

"Mebbe dat woulda been better, non?" Remy asked in a sad voice. "Den dere woulda been no massacre, no Antarctica, no pain f'r you."

"Stop it!" Rogue cried furiously. "If Ah tol' ya once, Ah tol' ya a million times, stop pityin' yourself! It don't look good on ya. If ya had died, Ah woulda never met the love o' my life. So just stop it!"

Stealth heard footsteps and another voice join the conversation. "Rogue, is everything all right?" Rogue must have made some kind of sign in the negative because the voice continued. "What can I do to help?"

"Bish, could ya just…" Rogue sighed. "Help me get him ta our room, please."

"Of course Rogue," the large black man agreed.

Stealth heard the two mutants drag the drunk Remy to Rogue and Remy's shared room, and the door close. Letting out a large sigh, Stealth slid into a sitting position on the floor. She grabbed her duffel bag and removed the contents. Clothing wise, she had the leather pants and red halter that Isabel wore, the white pinstripe suit that Brita wore, and the boots that both wore. She also had an orange tank top, a pair of sandblasted low rise jeans, and a grey UCSB sweatshirt. 'Guess I'll wear that with my Pumas tomorrow,' she decided with a laugh. 'Not like I have too much choice.' She found the clothes she had discarded from today; the baggy navy cargo pants and light blue shirt. 'To off set my "eyes",' she quoted the salesgirl bitterly. 'I wish…' She also removed her blonde and black haired wigs. She looked at Chris's brown hair wig and frowned. Removing the towel from her hair, she pinned it onto the top of her head. She placed her hair cover on, followed by the wig. She looked in the mirror and murmured, "Hola Chris." She let out a hollow laugh. "I wish I were you," she told her reflection. "Instead of me." She shook her head. 'I better get to bed before I really go crazy,' she told herself. She changed into the pajamas Rogue had left her and settled into bed.

Dark. It was so dark. Black. How she hated the dark. So lonely and unwelcoming. Normally it wouldn't be a problem. With her mutation, she could see better in the dark than the average human. But now it was dark. Completely dark. She fingered her inhibition collar for what felt like the millionth time. She knew it stopped most of her powers but not all. At least with it on, she couldn't hear the screams. Her mothers', other mutants, humans, who knew any more? It was so black, she could hardly make out the bars. Bars of her cage. 'Caged like an animal,' she thought wryly. Then she heard words from a voice made her cringe, "Bring in the young girl."

She didn't hear the person until he unlocked her cell. She was used to having superior hearing and without it she felt deaf. But, she could see his red eyes glowing in the darkness. She stared unblinking. Red. Glowing red. Like HIS eyes, only filled with compassion and sadness instead of power and hate. He led her to an experiment table and sat her down. He never uttered a word unless forced. Until now. He helped the torn and beaten girl up and whispered, "'m sorry p'tite," before he backed into the shadows once more.

Black. She hated the darkness. It surrounded her. She couldn't escape it. It was everywhere. Then HE entered. Sinister. Flanked by Vertigo and Riptide. White. HE always brought the light with HIM. Ironic, black darkness to wait for an angel, white light means a visit from the devil. "Ah, Miss Howlett. Good of you to join us," Sinister greeted in a friendly manner. Vertigo and Riptide just smiled wickedly. She remained silent. HE always called her Miss Howlett. She didn't know or understand why. Red. HIS eyes were red as well. But they didn't glow. Visible by the now bright lights that shined on the tables. Her table and the adjacent one. Where her mom lay. Unmoving. HE continued to talk, "As you can see, my experiments have had regrettable consequences for your companion. I believe she was called Stealth. Heightened reflexes and agility, limited telepathy. Not bad mutation, though no where near as powerful as many others." She sat rigidly as HE talked about her mother like she was nothing. Just another specimen. Of course, neither lady had ever bothered to point out that Stealth was her mother. Well adopted mother. That's why the genetic studies didn't pick it up. HE waved HIS hand, motioning that it was of no consequence. "Anyway, since she was your companion, I thought you might have something to add." She still refused to utter a word. In fact, she hadn't uttered a word since she had arrived. "Fine," Sinister stated, annoyed. "Gambit, please remove her," HE commanded, gesturing to the body. The boy who had led her to the table reappeared from the darkness. She watched him pick up her mother, his eyes trying to apologize as he carried her away. She sat, silently seething in anger. "Anyway, Miss Howlett, now that your companion is no longer useful, I've moved my interests to you." She cringed, just hearing the words. Seeing her discomfort and fear, HE smirked. "Don't worry, it won't hurt. What am I saying? Of course it will. And lucky you, you must be awake for the procedure." The whirling metal was coming towards her. She closed her eyes, praying to be free…

Chris awoke with a gasp. She felt her fear and tears welled in her eyes. "Why? Why? Why?" she kept muttering into her hands over and over again, shaking her hands. She rose and went to the vanity mirror. She stared strait into her dark brown eyes and glared. Ripping her ring off, she watched her eyes fade to a pale grey with a dark brown outline remaining (A/N: think Lady Deathstrike from the X-Men movie) and felt her anger grow. She smiled at herself for a moment, exposing her slightly pointed teeth, letting her blood boil. It was too much for the girl to handle. "HE did this to me!" she hissed, punching the glass. Shards flew all around her. Looking down at her hand, she saw it was covered with blood and glass. She watched herself bleed for a moment, then let out a small sigh as it began to heal. Shaking her head again she replaced her puzzle ring and returned to bed. 'I'll clean that up in the morning,' she assured herself, feeling her calm return. 'And no more ice cream before bed.' With that, she fell into a dreamless sleep.

Now you know 'cause it's Mike's Super Short Show. Wait. No. But still… review. Randomness, thy name is Caliente. :P