The Heavens Open

by Stormkpr

The third book in my trilogy. The X-men have retreated to space and will attempt to save mutantkind and all of earth. Not suitable for children. COMPLETED

24. Chapter 24

THE HEAVENS OPEN

By Stormkeeper (stormkpr@usa.net)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

****************

The next several days were tense for us. (Though the party in Jubes's and Sam's room had been a most welcome diversion.) But aside from fun stuff like that, I remember longer hours than normal spent training, followed by briefings from Cyclops. We continued our approach of organized team training sessions, with everyone fighting together against our simulated opponents.

We checked our sensors regularly, of course, to try to get a sense of the Cetian starship's approach and how much time we had left.

In the end, it had all been for nothing – my worrying, that is. Apparently, our cloak provided enough of a shield. If the Cetians were aware of our presence on the planet, they gave no indication.

They didn't come for the other humanoid life on the planet either. Instead, according to our sensors and what Jean could detect as well, they drained several lakes and rivers, sucking up all the water. They took chunks of rocks from the planet too, though we couldn't say why. Who knows, maybe the rocks contained some form of their precious benzite, the substance they enslaved people to mine for. One people's treasure is another's trash, I guess. Cetians are raiders in this galaxy, raping other planets for their whims.

Their foray had one distinct impact on us – it made us redouble our efforts in getting out of here. Suddenly Hank and Cyclops were spending long, **long** days at shuttle repair. Jean would periodically report back to the group during a meal ("They're making progress," she'd say, when they decided to skip dining with the group in favor of hurriedly eating their meal in engineering.)

This planet had been benign enough, but it wasn't any longer. We all were eager to get out of here. Most of the rest of us (myself included, believe it or not) offered to help too, but as Hank once explained, it would take longer for them to explain the workings of engines to us than any benefit they would gain. So we left them alone to keep working at that shuttle.

****************

One day, when we had been stranded for no less than a total of fifteen weeks (I swear, it seemed longer), Hank and Cyclops had good news. The shuttle was repaired!

We knew they had been getting close for a while. After doing a number of tests and simulations, they were confident that it was good enough to make the journey back to An'zhina.

So our plan was this: three or four X-men (no more than that would fit comfortably on the shuttle) would trek back to An'zhina. An'zhina had one shuttle itself. So two X-men would then take the two shuttles back to this planet, and we'd therefore transport more of us back home. It would take several trips and would be slow going, but eventually we could transport the entire team back to An'zhina. It sure wasn't ideal, but we didn't have much of a choice.

We also knew that one of the rescuees from the FOH camp in Beijing was an engineer. As far as we know, the engineer didn't speak much English but we hoped that we could perhaps entice him – and a translator--- to return, so as to continue with the engine repair. If we weren't able to get him to come, we weren't sure how we'd ever get Freedom off this planet.

By the way, I can't remember if I've updated you on the history (for lack of a better term) of our shuttles. As a refresher – Freedom came with three shuttles. We had left one on An'zhina, where it has remained ever since. Psylocke and Marrow later stole one of Freedom's shuttles, which then left the ship with one. When we encountered the Fitzpatrick (one of the FOH ships that the Pirates decimated), we took its shuttle, so Freedom was back up to having two. But that shuttle was the one we ended up leaving on Nari Silara. However, another shuttle subsequently arrived on An'zhina – a shuttle carrying nine women who the Pirates freed from FOH. (How they had all fit in the shuttle for weeks is a mystery to me.) Freedom was then back up to having two shuttles. However, that shuttle was more or less destroyed by the asteroid field. So we're left with this one original shuttle.

Also, we talked about naming the shuttle. (Trust me…if you were stranded for four months, you'd get this bored too.) We considered calling it Liberty, which I liked. But Jean had the idea to name it after one of our deceased comrades. People liked that idea, but how would we pick who to honor? So Jean wrote names of X-men who've died, placed the slips of paper inside a bowl, and Rogue drew out a name. Shadowcat --- Katherine Pryde -- was chosen. We decided to go with her surname, and our one shuttle is now officially known as Pryde. Sometimes people remembered to call it that, and sometimes they didn't. But there it is. (We also discussed that no one, to our knowledge, had named the shuttle on An'zhina but we thought we'd check with the Professor on that when we returned.)

Anyway, I digress. When we were confident that the Pryde was stable enough for a trip back to An'zhina, we next had to decide who would be on the team to take it back to An'zhina.

******************

"I'd rather stay here," Jean said. "If FOH or the Cetians approach again, it's better if I'm here. At the very least I can use my powers on the FOH soldiers' minds."

Hank looked down and shook his head. "The mission to An'zhina could possibly be dangerous. Although the shuttle will be cloaked, it has few weapons and is more susceptible to space hazards such as asteroids or meteors. It is imminently safer here than on a tiny shuttle."

The X-men, assembled in the largest conference room, had only begun their discussion but Wolverine already looked impatient. "There's danger everywhere. Sign me up. I'll be on that shuttle." He itched to leave the planet. He wouldn't be happy wherever he was, but he was ready for a change.

Cyclops nodded. He had no doubt that Wolverine would be a fine candidate for this mission.

"I volunteer as well," Shaman said. "I am also willing to pilot the second shuttle back here." The narrow confines of the shuttle would not bother him, nor would piloting one of them back to the planet alone. He volunteered out of duty to the team and to what the X-men stood for, though he knew that an extra benefit existed as well – he would get a chance to see his wife and daughter, no matter how brief his layover on An'zhina would and should be.

"We should send at least one more person on this mission," Cyclops said. "The shuttles can fit three or four people comfortably. Well, using a flexible definition of 'comfort' anyway."

After all, Scott knew, the Chinese engineer might refuse to accompany the X-men. If that were the case, it could become a straightforward evacuation mission, with the goal of transporting as many people as possible back to An'zhina. Cyclops looked at Beast. "What about you, Hank? Do you want to go?" He thought his friend might appreciate getting to spend some brief time with Panda and the baby.

"I appreciate the offer, but I think it would be in the team's best interest if you and I continue our work on Freedom's engine repair. Granted, our progress has been minimal, to say the least, and we might have reached a plateau in our progress. Still, I believe I am of better service here."

"It's also nice to have a doctor here," Jubilee said. She felt a motherly instinct; though Rory was rarely ill, she wanted her child to have access to a doctor. Jubilee then looked at Wolverine and felt a tug of emotion. Her first thoughts had been towards her daughter and remaining here with Sam, rather than concern over Wolverine's trip back to An'zhina. `Well, he's been so damn reclusive since Storm left,' she told herself, knowing she still felt filial love towards the gruff Canadian.

"I'll go," Hector said.

Sam shot a questioning look towards his friend. Hector shrugged in reply. "Why not?" he offered by way of explanation. There were no other volunteers, and Hector would welcome a chance to get back to An'zhina. He figured he'd be on a shuttle mission sooner or later, and Shaman and Wolverine were easy enough to get along with. Wolverine had never breathed a word to Hector about his night with Storm, though he knew that Storm probably had mentioned it. He didn't fear Wolverine and wanted to return to An'zhina. Now was as good a time as any.

*****************

So it was settled. Wolverine, Shaman, and Hector went back to their rooms to pack their bags, and Hank went to the shuttle bay to make the final preparations on the Pryde.

I knew the chances were remote, but I really hoped they would succeed in luring the Chinese engineer here, he would magically repair the engines, and we could leave this place on board Freedom and not a damn shuttle. The shuttles were **small.** They consisted of a room that was maybe slightly larger than one of the personnel quarters on Freedom. There was a pilot and co-pilot's seat, a small open space, lots of equipment and control panels. A food replicator was in each shuttle, and a fold-out table.

And yes, there was a bathroom. It's been a long time since I've flown on an airplane on earth, but I would say the size of the shuttle's bathroom was comparable to an airplane's bathroom. It basically consisted of a toilet and sink, and barely enough room to turn around.

Sleeping bags were loaded onto Pryde, systems were triple-checked, and its dilithium stores were maximized. I took one last glimpse into the shuttle and wondered whether there would even be room for three adults to lie down at the same time. I silently hoped the Professor might use an unethical means of "convincing" the engineer to go to An'zhina, though I knew he wouldn't.

I wondered about Hank not going. I kinda shuddered, thinking Panda might resent him even more. But what Jubilee said was true; we needed a doctor. I can't imagine if Rogue had gone through her miscarriage – or Jean-Paul his HIV diagnosis --- without a doctor here. And I just selfishly was glad my best friend was here with me. We'd enjoyed a Hank-brushing session more than once in our picnic area on the planet.

The good-byes were brief. Shaman exchanged words of farewell with everyone and I saw him whisper something to Rogue and Gambit. Wolverine embraced Jubilee and Jean, and their children. (I stood by as the hugs took place and considered cracking a joke like, "How bout some sugar for Bobby?" but I really doubted Wolverine would laugh.) Hector hugged most of the group briefly, myself included.

The three men loaded their baggage onto the Pryde, and the cloaked vessel successfully lifted off. Jean maintained telepathic contact with them, checking in periodically for as long as possible. There were now 11 adults and 3 kids left on the planet, living in Freedom.

***************

Hank handed a package to Wolverine before the trio departed on the Pryde.

"Would you give this to Panda, please?" he asked.

Wolverine looked at the sealed package. "It contains a tape," Hank added. He had made one such tape before he left An'zhina, and his heart always warmed at the thought of Panda playing it for their son, of the infant Rob getting a chance to become acquainted with his father. He smiled inwardly at the thought of Panda rocking the baby as she listened to this second tape.

"I'll make sure she gets it," Wolverine answered.

***************

Every now and then, Jean-Paul gets a glint in his eyes. It means he has an idea and he's going to be pretty unstoppable till he gets his way. I can't say it happens a lot, but it does happen. Today he approached me with that look. I worried.

He and Jeanne-Marie had been flying around outside, using their hyperspeed and getting some exercise. I'd decided to be a slug, and had spent most of the afternoon laying around on some lawn-type furniture and reading. (We'd set up some furniture right outside Freedom, in addition to our distant camp ground. It was now warm enough near Freedom to spend a few hours during the warmest part of day outside.) Wolverine and the others had been gone for just a few days.

"Bobby, let's talk," Jean-Paul began. That glint in his eyes was bothering me.

"Okay," I said.

Jean-Paul tilted his head. Sam and Jubilee were playing with Rory and Charlotte, within earshot.

"Inside?" I asked. He nodded, and we headed inside Freedom.

"What's on your mind?" I asked, sitting on the bed in our room. He sat on the chair opposite me.

"Jeanne-Marie and I have been talking," he began, a measure of excitement in his voice. "We have an idea. We want to become parents!"

At first, I thought it had to be a joke. So I came back at him with a joke. "Well, best of luck to you. I think a brother and a sister having a baby is going to equal a pretty messed-up kid, but who knows? It worked for the Egyptian Pharaohs they say." That was the best I could manage, and as I was saying the words, I was realizing that he was not kidding.

"No, Robere, no. The **three** of us will have the baby. Your sperm, and Jeanne-Marie! Then we can have a baby to raise. You and I will have a child, a child with both of our genes!"

My head slumped down into my hands. "I can't be hearing this," I said. "Can we go back to you lusting after Gambit?"

"Robere," he got up and placed his hands on my shoulders, "it's you I love, and you I want to be with. You know that."

"But are you serious about wanting a baby?? And why in the galaxy haven't you mentioned this before?"

"I have mentioned it," he said. "You know about Joanne. I have always wanted children."

I could have sworn that Jean-Paul hadn't given any recent indication of wanting another child. But then I thought about it and I really tried to see it from his perspective. Maybe he had. He had kind of said some words to that effect but I hadn't paid much attention to them, thinking there wasn't exactly a supply of babies for him to adopt on An'zhina.

"And Jeanne-Marie wants another one," he continued. "She's accepted that Stephan's gone. But she wants another chance, a chance to raise a good kid. Her time may be running out, amour. You know Jeanne-Marie and I are not that many years away from 40."

"I know." I was quiet. Numb, I couldn't think of anything to say.

"What's on your mind?" he asked.

"I'm so confused. Tell me….like, what exactly are you proposing? The three of us raise the child together?"

"Yes. All three of us can be co-parents. We know that different kinds of families can work. Look at how well things work with Jubilee's child, with everyone chipping in to take care of her. We can do the same."

I looked down and shook my head. I didn't want to meet Jean-Paul's eager eyes. "Jean-Paul, there's one piece missing from your equation. I don't **want** to have children."

"What?" he asked, sounding surprised.

And then I was angry. How in the hell could he be surprised? "Jean-Paul….Jean-Paul. Have I **ever** mentioned wanting a kid of my own?"

He was quiet. "But you're so good with Rory. And the others."

"I'm good with them, yeah. Because I like the role I have. I'm Uncle Bobby, I play with them a few hours a day, but I don't change any dirty diapers or have to teach them or do any of the difficult parent stuff. I like being an Uncle. But a father? No. Way. I can never imagine that for myself."

And then he was getting angry. And I was angry at his anger and his presumption. We argued, we talked in circles for a while.

"It will be so easy," he was saying.

"If you really think that, I got no idea where you get your ideas on parenting from."

"There will be three of us to take care of the baby."

"It doesn't matter that there are three of us. I don't **want** one!" I practically shouted that last sentence.

"We can get a chance to shape and mould a human life, to teach someone, to raise someone!"

He seemed not to care about my anger, so I hit below the belt. "Yeah, Jeanne-Marie did a bang-up job on her kid, that's for sure."

Jean-Paul looked as if he were ready to slap me – and given his hyperspeed, I saw a strange movement in the vicinity of his arm which suggested he'd been about to, but stopped himself in time. It was a low blow to be sure, but Stephan was not exactly a model kid. And we never really discussed **why** he'd turned out that way. Did I truly think it was Jeanne-Marie's fault? I'm sure it wasn't entirely….who knows how much of it was Stephan's inborn personality, his father's influence, the culture he was raised in. There were any number of factors and it's unfair (and sexist, I guess) to just blame the mother, I know. And I didn't know Jeanne-Marie when she was raising him; I didn't see what she and her husband did or didn't do.

But I'd always held a sneaking suspicion that she was at least partly to blame for the rotten egg her son turned out to be.

"That was mean. Take it back." Jean-Paul sounded hurt and now his anger rivaled mine.

"Take it back?" I repeated. "What, are we in third grade again? I'm not taking anything back and I am sure as hell not taking part in this crazy scheme!"

Jean-Paul got up and left the room, without saying another word to me.

*******************

"I mean, what the hell? Does he just expect me to roll over and agree to this?"

Bobby was sitting inside Jubilee's room the next morning. A colder day, most X-men were assembled in the rec room or gym. Group training sessions were finished for the day, and Bobby had sought out Jubilee's comfort.

"I can't believe he just springs it on you like that," Jubilee said.

Bobby got up and paced around the small space. "I can't believe how little regard he has for what I want. It's like he expects me to go along, on a moment's notice, on this major, **major** life change!"

"You'd think he'd realize what a big deal parenthood is. I mean, his sister was a parent – she couldda clued him in to what a big deal it is."

"That's part of the problem," Bobby said, his voice now more tired than angry. "**She** is clueless and he's always had a blind spot with his sister."

"You mean…." Jubilee tried to approach the subject lightly. "Does he realize that she's…um, a little mentally unstable maybe?" She had to be careful here. People had always whispered that Jeanne-Marie was---at least slightly – mentally ill, but it was never a topic discussed openly. Jubilee had heard that Jeanne-Marie's mental stability had been an issue even before the horrors FOH had unleashed upon her.

Bobby smiled. "It's okay. You can say it around me. Look, I love her as….as a sister-in-law, I guess, and because she's Jean-Paul's twin." He leaned in closer. "But she's not playing with a full deck and I don't think she ever has been." He then added, "Not that I knew her when she was young. But Jean-Paul told me a lot. She was treated for schizophrenia as a teenager." Bobby stopped himself from saying more. He didn't know much about schizophrenia and didn't want to presume to levy a scientific opinion about Jeanne-Marie's condition. He was confident, though, that her mental health had never been optimal.

"And what FOH put her through probably didn't help anything."

"They tortured her, they killed her husband, took her son, and tortured and killed most of her teammates in front of her. And they tortured her twin brother." Bobby flung his hands into the air. "I'd be kinda mental if all those things happened to me too. But even putting all that aside, I don't care who the mother is. I don't **want** to be a father!"

"You are really good with Rory though," Jubilee said, though she knew it would not change Bobby's response. She had always loved the way he'd take her daughter off her hands for a few hours at a time, but she never failed to catch the smallest look of relief and happiness when he handed Rory back over.

"I like playing with the kids a bit. I love Rory. But I don't want to be a father. It pisses the hell out of me that he just **assumes** I'm going to go along with this. I never said a word to him about wanting to be a parent." He attempted a smile, "I thought being gay got me off the hook!"

Jubilee smiled. She added, soberly, "It is hard work. I didn't fully think it through when I had Rory. Being a parent is definitely hard work. I mean, I was just talking with Jean and Scott the other day. We're trying to construct a curriculum, so we can make sure we get the kids reading and writing, and doing math. Just doing that is gonna be….huge."

"I tried to tell him how hard it would be, but he kept saying that there would be three of us, so it wouldn't be so bad."

"I don't think it even matters so much how many people are involved. All the X-men helped me a lot. But it's still been hard. And Rory's only three! It's probably going to be even harder when she's 12. When I decided to….to not abort her, I had no clue what I was in for."

"Neither do they."

"Well, they can't do it without you, can they? Maybe they'll just forget about this idea."

Bobby thought about it. He supposed they couldn't do it without him….unless they got the insane idea to use Jean-Paul's sperm instead of Bobby's, thereby putting the fetus at risk for numerous complications. Did Jean-Paul even care that Bobby would never forgive him if they did that?

"What are you gonna do next?" Jubilee asked, when Bobby had been quiet for a bit. It had caused a small rumble when Bobby and Jean-Paul had sat apart from each other at breakfast. Jubilee had approached Bobby, asking if he were alright. He told her the story, and confided in her that he had actually slept in one of the empty rooms last night, rather than by Jean-Paul's side.

"I dunno. I'm still so pissed at him, I can't face him now. I don't even want to look at him now."

*****************

Weeks ago on board the Vengeance, a sense of community had been simmering. Storm had initiated dinners with the small crew, and the women had begun to talk. They had taken baby steps towards real intimacy, a sense of camaraderie.

But then they had encountered the Conqueror, and the progress they had been edging towards stalled. Storm's mind had been assaulted by Psylocke, and Psylocke threw her weight around in other arenas too. Dani and Marrow had patched things up between them after a tumultuous period, but there were no more dinners and no more talk of Storm attempting to convince the crew of the error of their ways.

`It's probably only a matter of time before we encounter another FOH vessel,' Storm thought. Nervous scenarios circled her mind as she laid her head on the pillow. She was not tired, and knew she was in for another evening of fitful sleep. `What can I do to change things?'

After too much tossing and turning, Storm turned on the light and reached for the container where she kept photographs from An'zhina. She looked through the pictures of her friends and family, wondering where they were. She wondered what was new with Rogue and Gambit, and whether they'd gotten pregnant by now. She looked at a different team picture and glanced at Cyclops, wondering what kind of a job he was doing in leading the team. Jean stood next to him in the shot, and Storm knew that everything was well for her dear friend. Her eyes then traveled over to Bobby and she smiled, thinking and hoping that he was happy and still adoring – and being adored by --- Northstar. She then looked at Jubilee's smiling face and hoped that the young woman, and her daughter, were doing well.

As always, she lingered on the photographs of Wolverine. They were so far from each other, Storm and the man she loved. `Where are you, Logan? What are you doing now?' She touched her fingertips to the side of her face. `It is said that absence makes the heart grow fonder. But does it also reach a point where one simply forgets?' She wondered whether someone else had supplanted her place in Wolverine's heart. It wasn't inconceivable; she would never forget the debacle with Sara Grey.

And Storm herself had to fight her growing attraction to Alexander. It was a fight she could win, she knew. Alexander had been standoffish as of late and the two managed to avoid each other for chunks of the day, sometimes only interacting during a meal or two. `He knows,' Storm speculated. `He knows he's attractive and that I find him so.' The Wind Rider also suspected that the appeal was mutual. `He fights it though. I've told him about Wolverine, and he respects that.' And that fact made Alexander only the more attractive in Storm's eyes.

Storm finally ceased the stream of thoughts careening about her mind. After sitting on the floor and meditating for twenty minutes, Storm climbed into bed and fell into a peaceful sleep.

The dream was a vivid, lifelike one. Back on the Paradise Planet, though this time its foliage had the bright, unreal colors of An'zhina's lilac bushes and turquoise trees. This time the X-men weren't stranded on the Paradise planet, but willingly vacationing there. They danced with the natives and ate sugary sweet fruit that left its juices all over their hands. Storm and Wolverine escaped into the forest for some sweaty sex.

Storm woke up that morning, resolute.

***************

"You want to do what?" Psylocke asked, in the slightly haughty tone she reserved mainly for Storm.

"Think about it, Betsy," Storm said. "The crew could use a vacation. A gentle place to unwind and…reconnect. None of you have had anything like it since you came aboard this ship."

"So what makes this place so great?"

"You almost have to see it to believe it. An unspoiled planet, with clean, fresh air and a very tranquil setting."

Psylocke shrugged. "We're not all nature lovers like you. Besides, it sounds pretty similar to An'zhina, and I've seen that."

"Well, Roula and Thyme haven't. It might help lift their spirits."

"They seem fine to me."

Storm had to keep her appearance tranquil. Dealing with Psylocke, having to approach her as if Psylocke were her superior, was one of the most trying aspects of her exile. Swallowing her pride had become a regular meal for Storm.

"Why, Psylocke, are you opposed to the idea?" Storm asked gently as she attempted to keep a sincere-looking smile on her face. Silently, Storm asked, `Is it because I suggested it?'

Psylocke 'heard' Storm's unasked question. She couldn't hide a slight smile of triumph, relishing her position of power. "How do I know you're not going to use this as a chance to pull something?"

"Because you can read my mind," Storm responded, bluntly. She offered the statement as a challenge.

Psylocke was silent for a few moments, concentrating. She finally spoke. "I'll talk to Marrow."

Storm watched her leave, realizing the error of her approach. Being direct and honest generally worked in the X-men, but it would never work with Psylocke and Storm chided herself for not thinking it through better. She now knew the route to take, and hurried to get to Dani before Psylocke got to Marrow.

****************

The X-men had been enjoying one of the better days on the planet, spending hours at their campsite, delighting in the warmth. Evening was starting to fall, and most of the X-men had been teleported back from their campsite to the ship.

Rogue planned to soon follow but she spotted something out of the corner of her eye. Bobby sat on a nearby lounge chair, staring at a book. Rogue looked around and realized that, since Nightcrawler had teleported Hank back to Freedom, she and Bobby were alone.

"Hey, partner," she approached him, a smile on her face.

"Hi, Rogue," Bobby said, attempting to muster some enthusiasm as he looked up from his book.

"Those veggies were great," she spoke of their lunch that day, eaten outdoors while sitting on blankets and lawn furniture. "Thanks for keepin' up with your greenhouse."

"It's my pleasure," he replied, his voice about as devoid of pleasure as Rogue had ever heard it.

"I'm so glad you decided to grow collard greens. Eatin' those felt like a little touch of home."

This time, the best Bobby could manage was a slight smile.

Rogue strode a few more steps in Bobby's direction, and gently tipped the book down so she could look at Bobby in the waning light. "Bobby. Hon, what's goin' on?"

"What do you mean?" he sighed, wishing he didn't have to go through this.

"I mean you ain't barely said a word to me for days now," she said, with more gentleness in her voice than usual. "Or to anyone. But I ain't blind. Did you and Northstar break up?"

There was no way to hide the fact that Bobby and Northstar no longer dined together, and no longer were seen working out or spending leisure time with each other. Bobby had been keeping to himself, and the twins to each other. "I wouldn't say that," he finally said. "I guess I'd say we're on hold."

"Bobby, what happened? Can't you talk to him and try to fix whatever it was?" Out of politeness, Rogue feigned not knowing the reason for the couple's discord. Jubilee had told her, and Rogue knew that Bobby had probably guessed as much.

Bobby finally cracked a sincere smile, though a wry one. "Hey, wait a sec, Rogue. You never open up to me; how come I gotta open up to you?"

Rogue looked down. "Ouch."

"Well, it's true. I mean, you went through something pretty….traumatic here, and you never wanted to talk to me, even though I asked like a dozen times."

Rogue pulled her jacket tighter against her. The temperature was starting to drop and soon they would need to return to Freedom. "I dunno, Bobby. It was…it was really hard to talk 'bout the miscarriage, and really painful. Still is, in a way. So I kept it mostly to myself. And Remy."

"Bingo!" Bobby said, with some genuine anger behind the pleasant smile. "That's how I feel about what's going on with me and Jean-Paul."

"Okay, sugar. If you don't wanna talk 'bout it, you don't haveta. I just get worried 'cause I know you're usually a talker. You ain't been the kind to keep to yourself, at least not the Bobby I know." And she silently reminded herself of how Hank had recently expressed concern over Bobby. The young, suicidal Iceman had been like a pressure cooker, keeping his anguish to himself, choking his pain down. Hank himself had not met with success in getting Bobby to open up recently.

"I just don't know what there's to say," Bobby admitted. "I'm mad at him, he's mad at me. We talked a little. We think taking a break from each other might be a good idea for now."

He and Northstar had had a few brief conversations since their initial disagreement several days ago. The first talk had ended in another angry fray. Subsequent talks found them growing closer until Northstar would begin again trying to convince Bobby to become a co-parent. Bobby would then refuse to yield, growing impatient at Northstar's persistence. Northstar would grow angry at Bobby's impatience, and Bobby all the more livid at Northstar's impudent anger. Northstar was no longer meeting with Nightcrawler for guidance.

"But doncha think you've had long enough apart? I mean, at some point you gotta talk it out."

"I don't know if we **can** talk it out. Every time we start to talk, he starts to insist on why we need to do this. It's been like talking to a brick wall. I was told that Jean-Paul could be a stubborn ox and now I see just how bad he can be."

Bobby paused and took a breath. "And I hate the idea of people like Scott sitting there and gloating that we're having problems. We're the only gay couple here. I feel like we're under a microscope, and it looks all the worse when we fight." He then said, as if quoting a gossip, "The two gay guys are fighting again."

Rogue shrugged. "Maybe you're the only one who sees you guys that way." Rogue's firecracker spirit started to shine through. "To me, you're just another one of the couples, and you ain't under the microscope any more than the rest of us are. Heck, I bet most of us see you that way---maybe even Cyke himself. So get over it. We have."

Bobby opened his mouth, at first feeling defensive, but then mildly elated at Rogue's honesty and the way she saw the couple. He wondered whether she might be right.

Before Bobby could respond, both of their communicators beeped. "It's Kurt. Dinner is starting soon. Are you ready to be teleported?"

"Yes," Bobby answered, standing up and signaling an end to their conversation. The two friends smiled and Kurt arrived to retrieve them.

***************

I can't say I liked sleeping alone. I missed the loving, affectionate Jean-Paul, and I knew that he truly missed me too. But he wouldn't back down from his crazy idea. Anytime we started to talk and I felt myself starting to thaw, he returned to his sales pitch.

If I passed Jeanne-Marie in the hallway, I tried to not look at her. Did she dream up this idea and convince her brother? Did she want a replacement for Stephan that badly? Why try again when the first one came out so badly? As I said once to Jean-Paul, there was just no way in hell that was going to have a baby with her. (Needless to say, that comment enraged him and he stomped out of the room. Another failed peace talk.)

I was relieved the days that the twins decided to eat a meal in one of their rooms. Encounters in the rec room or at our campsite were awkward, but we managed to remain cordial when others were around. One day at the campsite, Jean-Paul was playing with Rory and he shot me a very pointed "see-what-we're-missing" look. I walked away, feeling an emotion akin to – but perhaps not quite as strong as -- disgust.

Maybe I was being the jerk here; I don't know. And to think that not that long ago, my main worry in our relationship was Jean-Paul's crush on Gambit. That was pretty small potatoes compared to what I had to deal with now.

***************

Marrow whistled a tune as she walked down a main corridor of the Vengeance. A glitch had manifested itself in the starship's cleaning system, and she was on her way to the bridge to check it out. She felt confident that she could fix the problem after running a few diagnostics.

Mirage had recently taught Marrow how to whistle. "Mirage," Marrow softly whispered, enamored with her girlfriend's new code name. Thyme passed Marrow in the hallway, and she noticed a dance-y gait to Marrow's stride.

Reaching the bridge, Marrow seated herself in one of the chairs and began to run diagnostics on the cleaning system. As the computer worked away, she checked the vessel's position. It wouldn't be long before they reached the planet. A land so inviting, so gorgeous that Storm and the other X-men always referred to it as Paradise. Marrow had never seen it. Neither had Mirage, but she'd asked Marrow to take the crew there for respite, and Marrow had agreed. Once Marrow's mind was made up, convincing Psylocke hadn't been that difficult. "We haven't run into any more FOH ships lately, you know," Marrow had said. "So what does it matter if we stay on our current course or go towards this planet? If we find an FOH ship, we find it. And destroy it." Psylocke had smiled and agreed a vacation on the Paradise Planet would do the crew some good.

Marrow quickly found the glitch in the cleaning system and fixed it. A well-run ship, a happy lover, and an impending vacation. Who could ask for anything more?

*****************

"Am I to conclude that you still do not wish to discuss this?"

Hank McCoy posed the question to his best friend Bobby Drake one evening. Hank had asked Bobby to brush out his coat, and Bobby complied. They sat together in Hank's room. With night having fallen, lingering in the cold outdoors was not an option any longer that day.

Bobby looked down and shook his head. "I just don't wanna talk about it, okay?" Bobby said. "Look, I know that you and Rogue and Jubilee and everyone else cares about me, but I kinda wish you'd stop asking." Bobby took a breath as he sat the brush back on Hank's nightstand. Hank's thick blue coat responded well to a solid grooming but oddly, Bobby noted, Hank never shed much.

Hank wondered whether Bobby truly wanted his friends to cease expressing their concern for him. "I assume that you and Jean-Paul have attempted to discuss matters?" Hank inquired calmly.

"Yes. Of course we have. He's just being a poopie head."

"Um….poopie head?" Hank asked, attempting to fight back a smile. From Bobby's tone and choice of words, Hank surmised that Bobby wasn't exactly livid any more. 'Perhaps "disappointed" is the right word,' he thought. Yes, Hank decided. For the last few days, Bobby moved as a man weighed down by disappointment and frustration, rather than one on fire with anger.

"We tried to talk again today," Bobby admitted, sighing. "We made progress. We even hugged each other and we said that we still love each other. But then he started it **again**. Trying to convince me to…have a baby with him and Jeanne-Marie." Bobby kept his gaze on his knees. "They won't listen. I wish he'd get his ass back into therapy with Kurt. I don't want to be a parent!" He said that last sentence with particular conviction.

"It is a very, very serious decision, Bobby. Becoming a parent is a monumental undertaking, one which changes a person's life forever. It is not a decision to be taken lightly at all."

Bobby turned his head to look at his best friend. Hank spoke with such heartfelt gravity. "Do you regret it?" Bobby asked quietly.

"I am not sure that 'regret' is the right word. I have not even had time to regret having the baby with Panda, as I have spent so little time with him. I do believe, however," he began, his voice heavy, "that making the decision to marry Panda and have the baby were two of the most important decisions in my life and two I made with far less contemplation than I've made on matters far less serious."

"It did seem sudden. When you got engaged. I remember thinking that Hank doesn't ever decide anything that fast – like without doing a full analysis. But I just figured that you were getting married because she was pregnant and you didn't have a choice. Even though that sounds so old-fashioned."

Hank nodded, a far-away look in his eyes. He was quiet for a few moments. "I do not wish to repeat myself Bobby, but as your best friend, I would only like to reiterate that the decision to have a child is a monumental one. Not one to be taken lightly and not one to be made under pressure either."

Bobby suddenly felt awash with emotion, at the way his partner had failed him by making such demands. He choked down a tear as he said, "Tell that to Jean-Paul, okay?"

*****************

The X-men made the most use of their outdoor campsite as possible. Soon the weather would turn cold again. And before they knew it, shuttles would return from An'zhina and another handful of them would have to take their turns, cooped up inside the small vessels for weeks. The 11 X-men on the planet knew to make the most of the outside now, for themselves and the children.

"I love the way she sings 'good morning' to him," Jean smiled, watching Charlotte fawn over her brother. Most of the group was lounging around outside one afternoon.

"She sings good morning to him?" Northstar asked. He sat near Jean and her children.

"One of the song books we got from An'zhina for the kids," Cyclops explained. "It has a 'good morning' song in it. Charlotte loves the song, and she loves to sing it to Chris."

"She's woken us up with it too," Jean added. She sang a few lines of the simple song to give Northstar a taste of the music.

Rogue and Gambit were stationed nearby, watching over Rory. Jubilee and Sam had taken a canoe-sized boat out on the water for a spin. So as to cause minimal disruption to the planet's ecosystem, the couple propelled the canoe by their own strength, using oars. A motorized vehicle could cause damage and therefore was off-limits.

"Careful, petit. You don't wanna put dat in your mouth," Gambit cautioned.

Rory had been adamantly observing insects. The tiny brownish insects faded into their backgrounds easily, but to a toddler, they were fascinating. When Rory picked one up, though, Gambit cautioned her.

"I wish she wouldn't touch the things at all," Rogue said. "Who knows what kinda germs and stuff they carry."

"Hank said dat it's safe. Said dere's no worry 'bout dem spreadin' disease to us."

"Look!" Rory pointed, excitedly. She spotted another bug and took a few steps towards it to get a better view.

"Sometimes I wonder what we'd do without Hank," Rogue commented. She then fell silent. She gazed at Rory.

"What you t'inkin' 'bout, chere?" Gambit asked quietly, noting the faraway look in her eyes.

"Nothin'," Rogue said. She then promptly changed the topic, mentioning that she missed training against Wolverine in the Danger Room. "Too bad he – and the others – are outta Jean's telepathic range now."

Gambit followed Rogue's words, but his thoughts remained with the look on Rogue's face as she watched Rory. `She still wants a child of her own,' he thought. `Maybe she only says she don't 'cause of what I told her.' He regretted telling her of his fears about becoming a parent. Had she put her own dreams on hold for him? If she did, it would ultimately lead to her own unhappiness, which was not what he wanted. `Dere's somethin' to be said 'bout keepin' a secret or two from your lover,' Gambit mused.

He closed his eyes and decided to stop thinking and worrying for the time being. Reticence in expressing her own views had never been a flaw of Rogue's. Gambit smiled as he saw Bobby walk by with some iced over drinks, and he gladly took one. He lay back against the blanket, determined to enjoy the good days while they lasted.

****************

Psylocke telekinetically demolished several of her enemies on the Vengeance's holodeck. She'd had the computer create a holographic version of Storm; Psylocke gleefully zapped her several times with psychic blasts. The battle ended with the holographic Storm lying limp on the floor.

`That damn bitch,' Betsy muttered to herself in the shower after her rigorous session. She couldn't pinpoint precisely why she hated Storm so much today. Or, more accurately, she didn't attempt to. All she knew was that Storm's calm, serene manner despite everything riled Betsy more than almost anything. The fact that she and Alexander were friends – and obviously shared a mutual attraction, though they hadn't acted upon it – didn't help things.

Psylocke gasped with shock. She reached for the water and shut it off, though her body was still soaped up.

//Jean?// she asked telepathically.

//Betsy!// Jean Grey's mind responded.

Psylocke regained composure. //Well, well. Our starships must be within telepathic range now. Isn't it amazing? Space is so vast and here we are.//

//How are Storm and Dani?// Jean asked.

Betsy smiled to herself. If Jean wanted to know how they were, she had only to read their minds. In fact, though they weren't telepaths themselves, Jean could soon probe their minds and strike up a conversation of sorts. //They are fine. We've treated our guests well.//

//That's good. Psylocke, the X-men are stranded on a planet.//

//Really?// Oh, this was good. Every time the Pirates came to the X-men's aid, the Pirates' lot in life got richer. She had to keep from rolling her eyes, wondering what the X-men had done this time. **If** the Pirates chose to help, would this be the third or fourth time they had saved the X-men from danger? A broad smile swept across Psylocke's face.

//We're not in any immediate danger. But our engines are severely damaged.//

//I take it you have enough dilithium for your necessities?//

//Yes, we do. We have enough to last a while.//

//What damaged your engines?//

//An asteroid field. The asteroids were pea-sized and….and, well we had trouble detecting them in time.//

//That's too bad.// As they 'conversed', Betsy probed Jean's mind. Her mood fell just a bit. From what she could sense at this point (though she looked forward to reading the minds of several X-men later), there wasn't much the Pirates could do for the X-men, short of towing them somewhere.

Psylocke told the X-man that she would discuss things with Marrow, but she didn't think that the Pirates could do anything to help in the short-run. //We're on our way to a vacation spot. Storm told us about it – you've been there before. I'll get in touch with you again later.// Psylocke said, effectively "hanging up" on their conversation.

*****************

Jean soon found herself in a meeting, sharing with the other X-men. "So thank goodness Storm and Dani are alright," she summarized. She had briefly made contact with them as well. "They're both delighted that we're near."

"It's such a bummer that we can't just….I dunno, go and get them or something," Bobby said. It was so frustrating to think that they were so close, yet tantalizingly just out of reach.

"I know," Jean replied. "But by our pact, they still have six months left with the Pirates."

"Six months, one week, and one day," Hank added.

Jean nodded in Hank's direction to acknowledge his precision. "Betsy seemed pretty firm on not letting that end early, too."

"You'd think they'd at least let us meet with 'em for a day or so," Rogue said, angrily crossing her arms. Deprived of one of her closest friends, she had longed for Storm's wise counsel many times during the past half-year. Six months was a long time, she mused. It had seemed even longer though.

"Psylocke has no intention of doing anything like that. She can't wait for her team to reach the Paradise planet."

"I wonder why she don't wanna help us, 'dough," Gambit said. "She always seemed to like havin' one up on us."

"I'm not sure what she **can** do," Cyclops said. Jean had probed the minds of those on board the Vengeance. "No one on that ship has experience repairing engines or dealing with asteroid damage."

"The thought of towing Freedom somewhere did cross Betsy's mind," Jean said. "But even if she wanted to do it---would any of **us** really want that?"

"I think we're safer here than in the Pirates' clutches," Rogue said, verbalizing the thoughts of the rest of the group.

"Yes, and besides --- do we really want to **owe** them anything more?" Northstar asked. "I can't even think of what they'd demand from us this time. What could we give?" No one had an answer to that.

"Did she indicate anything as to the nature of the Pirates' immediate plans?" Hank asked.

"The last time I communicated with her," Jean began, "she said that they plan to vacation on the Paradise planet for a while – no idea how long. They are going to go there and see whether they like it. When they get back on board their starship, they plan to go back to their mission – hunting down FOH ships. That part of their mission hasn't changed much, though Storm told me that they have only encountered one FOH ship since she came on board." Jean paused. It was odd, she thought, that they hadn't been able to track down more than that. "Also during our last talk, Psylocke indicated that she didn't want to communicate with me any more. For a while, at least."

Relieved at Storm and Dani's safe condition, the X-men were able to do little else at this point. None of them were under the illusion that Psylocke and her crew would or could perform a rescue. Cyclops and Beast continued their work on the ship's engines, though they progressed at a snail's pace.

****************

"We're still on course for that…that Paradise planet, right?" Marrow asked eagerly. She had found Psylocke in the mess hall finishing up lunch.

"Yes. We should be there in a few days," Psylocke responded.

"Good. So we're going straight to that planet, and not stopping over at the planet the X-men are on, right?"

Psylocke lowered her fork and smirked. "No, Marrow, we're not going to stop and socialize with the X-men. We haven't changed our plans on this since the last time you asked me." `Which was not too damn long ago,' Betsy silently added.

"Okay, good. I mean, a deal's a deal, and we got six more months of Mirage."

"I know, Marrow," Psylocke said, wondering if Marrow's insecurity might seem more droll and less irritating in another setting. "Don't worry. She's not getting a chance to go back to the X-men early."

"Good," Marrow repeated.

*****************

Charlotte and Christopher were put to bed for the evening. Christopher had been particularly wound up that evening, getting into everything both at the X-men's campsite and on board Freedom. He had scattered toys all about the place, which his parents had finally put away. The toddler finally calmed down and was dozing along with his sister, in the room adjacent to Jean and Scott's.

"He was sure hyper today," Jean said. She settled onto the bed next to Scott, who was contentedly reading.

"I think it was the ice slide. He got a thrill from doing that," Scott said.

Disapproval – though mild – was evident in Scott's tone. "Scott, the slide is truly safe. It's not that high, and Bobby held on to him tightly. I stood right there in case anything happened."

Scott eased up, smiling. "I guess it's only natural for me to worry. I know, I know – after everything we've dealt with, an ice slide is pretty tame."

"You don't disapprove of Bobby spending time with him, do you?" Jean asked. She had wondered about it before but hadn't ever vocalized it.

"No," he answered truthfully. Through their mindlink, he had known Jean's speculations. "Bobby's a good guy. I mean that sincerely, and you know it."

Jean nodded. She knew that her husband was speaking the truth about his feelings. She was glad to hear it, but she wished that Scott had made more progress in his desire to cultivate friendships. He had shared this goal with her a while ago, but Jean surmised that Scott had not made much progress in that direction.

The chime for their door sounded. "It's Jubilee. Can I come in?"

"Of course," Jean replied, seeing Scott's nod.

"What's on your mind, Jubilee?" Jean asked, when the young woman had entered the room. She did not appear distraught.

"Should I leave?" Scott asked. "I mean, is it a girl talk thing?"

"Well, you don't need to unless you want to," Jubilee said. "It's not private." She did wish now that she had picked another time to reach Jean though. There was something indescribably awkward about standing in the room as the Uncle-figure Scott Summers lay in bed reading. (Presumably he even wore pajamas, though Jubilee couldn't tell as he – thankfully -- lay under covers. Jubilee couldn't quite say why the thought of Scott Summers in pajamas was simultaneously disturbing and hilarious.)

"Well, let's go somewhere anyway," Jean said. "Scott can keep reading in peace." She bid her husband a quick kiss.

Once Jubilee and Jean were walking down the corridor to a conference room, Jubilee said, "It's nothing, really. I mean, it's like no big deal; it's just something that's been….on my mind today."

"I'm glad you sought me out to talk with," Jean said. `Glad' didn't begin to cover it. She had hoped to grow even more into the mentor-type role of Storm in Storm's absence. But Rogue didn't really open up to her; not at all the way she did with Storm. Jean looked forward to her talk with Jubilee.

"I—I just was wondering if you could take a telepathic message over to the Vengeance for me," Jubilee requested, as she gingerly slid into a chair in the empty conference room. Jubilee did, Jean noted, seem slightly uncomfortable now. Perhaps having second thoughts about whatever she came to discuss, Jean wondered. She tried to put Jubilee at ease with a gentle smile.

"Of course. What is it?"

Jean expected to be given a message for Storm. She was surprised when she heard Jubilee's response. "Could you tell Dani something?"

"Oh, Dani." Jean quickly recovered from her surprise. "Of course. What is it?"

"Could you tell her….just tell her that I got her tape and I liked it." Jubilee paused. Jean hadn't spoken, as she sensed that Jubilee wasn't quite finished. Jubilee finally added, "And could you tell her that I'm sorry and that I miss her?"

"I would be glad to," Jean said. Jubilee had not told Jean what occurred between her and Moonstar. From snippets she'd gleaned from the grapevine (and Jean was not as tapped into gossip as some others were), she knew that the two had a falling-out, and that it perhaps had something to do with Dani having amorous feelings for Jubilee. "Is there anything else?"

"No," Jubilee said. "Just that I hope she's okay and all."

******************

"Been talking to Jubilee?"

"What??" Mirage looked up from the book she was reading as Marrow entered her quarters.

"Psylocke told me that you and Jubilee have been talking," Marrow said. Her voice wasn't quite angry. It was somewhere between fear and sorrow.

"And how exactly have we been doing that?" She was more irritated than angry, though she sure did not appreciate Marrow charging into her room with an accusation. "Since I can't enter the bridge, I can't use sub-space to talk to **anyone** in the X-men. So," she put a smile on her face, "did I use my newfound powers of telepathy to do it?" Mirage then paused to take a breath. "Oh. Last night, Jean Grey contacted me. She had a brief message from Jubilee. She relayed the message and then left me alone."

"Oh. Really. What was the message?"

Dani shrugged. "She said that Jubilee got a tape I gave her, and that she missed me. That was pretty much it. So what did Psylocke tell you?" And, Mirage silently asked, why did Psylocke even see a harmless exchange worthy of bringing up? She had to fight back her anger at Psylocke, both for poking around her mind and reporting her findings to Marrow. Psylocke needed more hobbies, Mirage decided.

"She...she just said you two were talking."

Mirage got up, setting her magazine down. "Look….Marrow, you seem jealous," she began softly. "There's no reason for it, okay?"

"But you did have a crush on her, didn't you? You even admitted it to me once." Again, Marrow's voice did not convey anger – only a dash of hurt and a pinch of fear. She also could not keep a petulant tone at bay either.

"Yeah, yeah, I **did** have a crush on her!" This time Mirage did not hold back her impatience. "But it's over, it's done, and besides ---- I'm here with you now, Marrow."

"Only because you're forced to be." As she said the words, Marrow felt chills careening through her system, nipping at each of her sensitive bones. 'Only because you're forced to be,' she'd said and it was as simple as that. The Pirates had made a deal with the X-men and Dani joined their crew as part of an exchange – nothing more, nothing less. Marrow could wish and fantasize otherwise, but Mirage would probably rejoin her teammates at the drop of a hat.

`No!' Marrow said to herself. `It's more than that. There's something between us.' Marrow felt it when they gone from having sex to making love. She sensed it when they laughed together or when she listened to the sound of Mirage's flute playing, which was incomprehensible but full of affection.

Or was it all just her imagination; were the clues merely the result of Marrow's wishes? Was Dani Moonstar just a gifted actress, doing whatever it took to make her twelve month sentence pass as easily as possible? Did Marrow completely mistake the looks in Dani's eyes for something else? Was Dani only pretending that Marrow was Jubilee?

'If I asked you, would you stay with me?' Marrow wanted to ask, but couldn't.

*******************

Somewhere around that time, Jean-Paul and I got back together. More or less, anyway. After too many days of feuding, we just got tired of it and missed each other, so we somehow wound up sleeping in the same bed again, eating our meals together once more. My friends gave me relieved smiles and thumbs-ups, glad – I guess – that outward signs of strife on board the ship were no more.

Jean-Paul and I didn't talk a lot, at least not about that sore topic of children. No need to pick at that scab anymore. We didn't have any sessions where we sat down and talked over what was ailing us. We'd both spoken our peace so many times, the thought of fighting that battle again made me semi-nauseous. So we left it at an uncomfortable impasse, unspoken bitterness heavy in the air between us.

We'd still make love, hold each other, kiss each other deeply but at times I felt I was loving a stranger. More times than not, it just felt…cardboard. It felt bland, like the melting-together feeling was gone. Other times, it felt back to normal and I could almost pretend that the Jean-Paul of old was with me.

Things were worse than ever between Jeanne-Marie and myself. She just gave me stony stares and rarely spoke to me. As if I was single-handedly keeping her from her dream of having a baby! I couldn't discuss this with Jean-Paul either; he obviously saw the rupture between the two people he cared about most but none of us could fix it. It was a time of flinty silence and awkward moments. Gone was the sense of family the three of us had painstakingly developed over the years. I had to hope that they would forget their desire to have a baby and things would go back to normal somehow.

They made me feel like I let them down by refusing to go along with this baby thing. Years ago, my therapist would have reminded me that I shouldn't say "they made me feel" and that no one has the power to **make** me feel anything. But all I can say is that I hadn't experienced such a sense that I had disappointed someone –over just trying to be myself and live my life as I wanted -- since my parents kicked me out for being gay.

*****************

Disappointment weighed down every step Storm took. True, she could take solace in the fact that her teammates were basically safe and healthy (despite Rogue's miscarriage; her heart ached at the fact that she had not been able to console her friend), but the fantasies she'd had about the X-men saving earth had never come to fruition.

`So they never even made it to earth,' she realized after Jean's first telepathic update. No toppling of FOH, no massive mental shifts in the rulership of the planet, not even one measly rescue of a Mutant Containment Center. Nothing.

"I haven't seen you looking so depressed since I met you," Alexander observed one day. "Even when you were recovering from what Psylocke did, you looked better."

"That was my one hope while Dani and I were in exile here," she said glumly. They sat in a conference room with a large picture window and were able to observe the stars rush by. Each was enjoying a night cap. "I thought that at least the other X-men were making a difference on earth." She paused and the room fell quiet. Alexander was not the type to recite comforting cliches. "Maybe it's hopeless. Some days I feel that once my stay here is over, we should just return to An'zhina and live out the rest of our lives in peace. Earth is not my home any longer."

"I understand why you feel that way. I used to long for a safe haven when I was their prisoner," Alexander admitted. "It seems we mutants have one on An'zhina. Maybe that is the right place to be."

Storm continued to watch the stars rush by. Had she been on board Freedom, she would have known precisely how many hours remained until their destination. Now she had to rely on what Psylocke told her, or what Mirage could obtain from Marrow (who often didn't know precisely either.) "I wish Psylocke would allow us to visit the X-men," Storm said. "My teammates are so close by. What harm would there be?"

Alexander nodded. "She likes throwing her weight around. Or she doesn't want to risk you rocking the boat."

Storm nodded quietly. Fate truly seemed to be mocking her, as Wolverine was no longer on the planet with the others anyway. Storm's desire to visit her family would have been stronger had Wolverine not set out for An'zhina. She could have pushed harder – or, better yet, asked Dani to push harder – for a visit. But without Wolverine there, Storm deferred. And Psylocke never failed to remind them that their journey to the Paradise Planet was a favor she was generously granting the crew.

*************

The trip on board the Pryde was tolerable for Wolverine. At the very least, he had to admit that his travelling companions were pleasant; neither grated his nerves. The quiet Shaman spent long stretches at a time reading or meditating. Hector generally spoke only when spoken to; the young man was innocuous, bland and nice. A little timid too, Wolverine noted. He gave Wolverine a wide berth due, in no short order, to the incident with Storm. Hector had unlimited time to play computer games and had even taken quite a liking to a yo-yo.

The three men took turns sleeping and sitting at the controls. Although the Pryde warped through space on autopilot, just as with Freedom, one person had "bridge duty" at all times. Space was eerily empty; they encountered no one.

Wolverine was glad to be away from that planet. He was removed, now, from the temptation and frustration. His system had difficulty handling the ecstasy of being outside while bereft of a mate to share it with. Much better this way.

Maintaining physical fitness was somewhat of a problem. There wasn't the room to train as in the gym, but they did bring weights along. Wolverine had enough room to work on karate, though maintaining cardiovascular fitness required more creativity in a shuttle craft.

******************

Psylocke slowly and carefully maneuvered the Vengeance down into the planet's atmosphere. Marrow sat next to her on the bridge, monitoring read-outs and assisting. They had finally reached the Paradise planet. After performing several scans of the surface, Psylocke selected a location that looked attractive and set her sights on it. There were, she noted, humanoids not far from that area but she performed a perfunctory scan of their minds and learned that they were harmless.

A few days ago, Storm had again warned Psylocke of the unusual magnetic field storms this planet harbored. The storms had stranded the X-men for months during their first attempt to leave the planet, and the Vengeance would need to be careful to avoid them. "What a pity that your great powers can't control them," Psylocke had sneered at Storm's warning.

The landing was uneventful. The ship and all of its crew were safe, the vessel having landed in a clearing.

"Well," Psylocke began, rubbing her hands together, "let's get outside and have a look around."

****************

Storm, Mirage, Marrow, Psylocke, Roula, Thyme, and Alexander sat around a fire at the party. Natives dressed in colorful robes and festooned with ornaments danced around wildly to the music being played. Food served in large bowls and frothy drinks were passed around.

Storm sat with a wry smile on her face, wondering whether fate once again was laughing at her. Psylocke **intentionally** set the starship down near the natives! All of Professor X's noble notions of maintaining distance from this culture and allowing it to evolve on its own had been shoved aside, and Storm's only choices were to go along or sit inside the Vengeance hiding.

And after six months cooped up inside a starship, nothing could have prevented her from walking down the entrance ramp with the others. Nothing, however, could have prepared her for what had come next: a gift-bearing contingent led by Nurya walking towards the Vengeance.

//We sensed your approach.// Nurya had said, smiling her toothless smile. The natives' leader didn't, however, actually **speak** the words. Storm heard them directly inside her mind. Apparently, as Storm would learn, several of the natives had developed telepathic powers after their encounter with the X-men. They did not speak the same language, but they were able to communicate with the mutants, on a basic level, by simply thinking and listening. Nurya communicated that a few days ago she'd had a premonition of the return of Storm and others similar to her.

"What have we done?" Storm whispered.

"Storm, don't be so glum," Dani said. She was sipping a sweet drink that contained alcohol. Nurya "told" Storm that she remembered that several members of the X-men "tribe" had not enjoyed the bitter beverages her people had offered, so they had created something sweeter. "The people here are doing great! Look at them."

"This was such an awesome idea!" Marrow enthused in Storm's direction. "God, the air here is so fresh." She inhaled. "This place is just incredible!" She then planted a kiss on a giggling Mirage.

"Soon as I feel like going back into that ship, I'm gonna get my flute and jam with these people," Dani said enthusiastically.

Several natives beckoned to the Pirates, asking them to join the dance.

"Where are you going?" Storm asked Alexander, watching him get to his feet.

"You can't beat 'em, join 'em," he said, as he went off with Mirage, Thyme, and several natives to dance.

"Great," Storm breathed, her arms crossed over her chest, "The dancing doctor," she dubbed Alexander.

The music grew in intensity and volume as Mirage, Thyme, and Alexander joined the dance. Storm was passed a dish containing several leafy green vegetables topped with a thick red sauce. She bit into it, finding the dish spicy and delicious. A man brought her a refill of her drink. Storm looked at Marrow sitting nearby and noticed that Marrow seemed mesmerized at watching Dani dance with the natives.

Storm also noted that seemingly the entire village was celebrating tonight. Men, women, and children of all ages were drinking, eating, dancing, talking, and laughing. A small group to the right seemed to be listening intently to a story.

"They're describing their first encounter with the X-men," Psylocke said, pointing them out to Storm.

Storm, furious at Psylocke, did not acknowledge the comment. Psylocke shrugged it off and got up to converse telepathically with more natives.

Storm looked around, noting that several of the natives' paintings and other crafts were on display, propped up in a circle format. She remembered that they took pride in their crafts. One man got up and showed Storm a rug that he himself had woven. He simply wanted her to see it and acknowledge its beauty. After she did so, telepathically complimenting him on his piece of work, he smiled and moved on to Roula.

//You seem concerned, child.// Nurya communicated, as she sat down next to Storm.

//Can you read emotions too?// Storm asked.

//Emotions? I sense from looking at someone how they might feel but I have no special gifts in that area. Just the wisdom that comes with these lines on my face. And you're right, Storm. I am in good health for someone my age.//

Storm had just been thinking that Nurya moved with ease and grace, and must be quite healthy, for a woman so advanced in age. She had not, however, intended to communicate that thought. Storm sighed and resigned herself to the fact that this was yet another area in which she would have to admit to not possessing control.

//Are you concerned for the other members of your tribe?// Nurya asked. //Those who are not here, I mean. You told me that they are well.//

//They are.// Storm said. //They are.//

//That is good to hear. I will never forget Jean or Charles. Many of the children remember Hank because he looked like Goluba, and they ask about him. So Storm, what is it that you are concerned about?//

Holding back her thoughts would be futile anyway, Storm realized, so she decided to not bother. //I am concerned about what we have done to your culture. How we have changed it. Our contact here today might be causing you even more change.//

//What do you mean? You saved us from those…invaders. Because of your actions, you preserved our heritage.//

//But we also changed it. For an example, you said that no one communicated telepathically before your contact with us. We might have made irreversible changes to your tribe's natural progression. Not to mention the other tribes you come into contact with.//

//This special gift of communicating this way was a surprise to us but it has been beneficial to us. And yet you see your contact with us as a bad thing?//

//Yes. Of course.//

//I do not understand. You saved us. I will admit, however, that we have changed in the time since your arrival but it was not due to your people.//

Storm knew she might regret the question, but decided to ask it. //Can you give me examples of how else you have changed? Aside from your new method of communication?//

//We have experienced fear. A different kind of fear than ever before. In the past, we feared drought or destruction of our crops. We feared disease and inclement weather. But never, Storm, never did we fear other people. Never did we fear other men and women until the invaders killed and abducted so many others.// Nurya seemed to have a pause in her thoughts before she continued. // We have had to nurture the survivors of those villages they plundered. In our speaking language, we did not even have words for some of what we encountered. We are no longer as loving to strangers as we were. We no longer live with as much joy and freedom as in the past. Fear is constantly with us.//

//But you see, Storm, none of these changes were due to you and your people.// Nurya added. //You saved us from all of it. And perhaps the terror of what we experienced at the hands of the invaders has made us cherish our lives even more.//

Most of the Pirates eventually returned to their starship to spend the night in the comfort of their own beds. Storm took her leave of Nurya and made her way back up the ramp to the ship alone.

Storm yearned for Wolverine now more than anytime, perhaps, since her self-imposed exile with the Pirates. Her desire tonight was not sexual, but emotional. If Wolverine had been with her, they would have slept together in a tent outside, or perhaps without a tent and would have watched the stars as they conversed and breathed the clean air. And she would have been able to confide in him, to talk with someone who likely felt as she did. Wolverine was not the most gregarious person but he would listen and undoubtedly share some of her own reactions too.

But once again, Storm would have to make do without Wolverine. Opening up and expressing emotions was not a natural state for her, but she had considered approaching Dani. However, since she saw that her teammate was still in an exuberant mood from the welcoming party, she decided to refrain from sharing with her. There would be no benefit in bringing Mirage's mood down.

So Storm walked down the corridor to her room alone.

"Quite a party tonight."

She heard Alexander's voice behind her and turned around. "Yes," she said.

"If you'd told me two years ago that one day I'd be on a distant planet, sitting on the ground at a celebration with a group of non-humans, I would have thought you were insane."

Alexander proved more loquacious than normal tonight, Storm saw. Maybe he wanted to process thoughts about the experience as well, she mused. "How about a walk outside?" she asked. Although it was the middle of the night at this spot on the planet, it was still early evening by the schedule the Vengeance had been keeping. And the weather was balmy with a gentle breeze.

"I'd love to."

Once outdoors, Storm again filled her lungs. The air on this planet was sweet. At the party, she had drank only water, and even the water somehow had tasted….flavorful, delicious, and thirst-quenching.

"You like being outdoors," Alexander said.

Storm impulsively spread her arms wide. "I am at a loss for words right now, to express my joy at being outside."

"I was surprised not to see you flying around today."

"I do not wish to….flaunt my abilities in front of the natives. Besides, I am enjoying having my feet on the ground."

"Except you have your boots on," Alexander said with a smile, looking in the direction of her footwear.

She smiled. "Perhaps tomorrow we can picnic outside and have more direct physical contact with gorgeous place."

Alexander tried to read Storm's facial expression. Their walking area was lit brightly by the planet's two moons. "For one who says she is so exhilarated to be outside, you do not seem happy, Storm."

Storm spotted a large boulder. She sauntered towards it and sat down. There was room for Alexander to sit beside her, and he did so. "I do not know what else to say about the natives. I am concerned that our contact with them as irreparably harmed them, but Nurya says that is not the case. Perhaps I should leave it at that."

Alexander tilted his head. "I see it as a good thing that you're so concerned with their fate. You're very caring, Storm. You always consider other people and the results of your actions."

She allowed the compliments to breeze past her. "I suppose what's done is done. The fact is that the natives have changed but their culture is continuing. They are surviving and adapting." She turned her head to look at him. "I would be lying if I said that the natives were the only reason I felt concern, Alexander."

"There's something else on your mind," he stated. He was enjoying the chance to sit down. The glory of this planet's lush beauty felt nearly intoxicating.

Alexander was remarkably easy to talk to, and Storm needed the release. "I cannot help but to compare their situation with the sorry state on earth. The natives were traumatized by a warlike race that nearly overwhelmed them. They never saw such violence before. Nurya said they are healing, though it has irrevocably changed them. Then I think of earth. Our planet has had war, hideous acts of violence, people living in poverty, rape, oppression….all of these things for millennia. It shows no signs of stopping, and with FOH coming to power, everything is worse." She paused. "You know that I have expressed wanting to just give up on earth," she said quietly. "It feels even more concrete to me now. Perhaps after this, we X-men should just retreat to An'zhina. There are many days when I do not even think of earth. Maybe it truly is hopeless. Maybe it is better forgotten."

Alexander was silent for a few moments. "What you're feeling is only natural. Sometimes I wonder whether our home planet can ever reach a state of peace. But we have to try."

Storm had to resist a shrug. "Sometimes I question that. I used to believe it fervently, when I joined the X-men. But people have been trying for millennia to change things with little results. I think I would like to live out my life on An'zhina, when my time with the Pirates is finished."

Alexander nodded, looking into her eyes. Every time he'd seen them, he was stunned by their blue color, and by the depths of the woman behind them. Unthinkingly, he moved his face closer to hers.

Instinctively, Storm responded, moving in closer to Alexander and automatically closing her eyes. The sadness she felt at her home planet's predicament was not mitigated by the rapture she felt being outdoors in this planet's open fields. But the combination of being free of the starship after six long months and of being able to relate to someone made Storm feel almost giddy. She did not have quite the amount of control she usually exerted over herself.

But she had enough control to back off an instant or two before their lips would have met. "I—I'm sorry," she said, flustered.

"No, Storm – I'm sorry," he managed, returning to his senses. "I don't know what I was thinking." The distinguished doctor had redness on his checks, which looked all the more endearing.

"Nor do I know what I was thinking." She swallowed. Perhaps it was now time to take the bull by the horns. "Alexander, I find you very attractive, and I – I suspect that you think the same of me. But –"

"But, I know," he said, cutting her off. "You love someone else." He spoke the words simply as a statement; without reproach but flavored with disappointment.

"I love him. And I would not be able to look into Logan's eyes if I betrayed him."

"I know. You are too noble, too honorable of a woman to betray the one you love." In anyone else's mouth, such a statement might have come across as superfluous but when Alexander spoke the words, they came out just as he meant them – simply and honestly.

Storm refrained from remarking that she had not always been as noble as Alexander thought. She just added, "And you are too good of a man to allow that to happen." She reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I value the friendship you and I have built up. Let us not allow our mutual attraction to spoil it."

Alexander nodded. "I value our friendship too. And I hope that somehow, someday I shall be fortunate to find another woman as amazing as the one Wolverine has."

Storm smiled. On days like today, when she had given up on earth, she did not feel so amazing. Just tired and defeated, and directionless.

***************

Cyclops skipped the Danger Room group training one morning. During the previous evening, he and Hank had begun to make progress once again on repairing the ship's engines, and both had eagerly worked through the night. In the very early hours of the morning, the disappointed duo sat back, full of frustration and embarrassment. They had actually ended up making things worse, and it would take some time to undo their error.

`How could we have been so wrong?" Scott berated himself, as he climbed into bed less than an hour before Jean and Charlotte would be waking up for the morning.

When it was time for her to rise, Jean took one read of Scott through their mindlink and determined that leaving him alone to rest would be the best course of action. He was peacefully asleep, and she wanted to allow him his rest. She went on with her morning as usual, getting the children off to breakfast before preparing for the group Danger Room session.

As usual, when the team had its group training session, one team member would watch the three children and today the duty fell to Jeanne-Marie. Jean was never delighted at entrusting her children to Jeanne-Marie, but she silently chided herself that she was being unfair. Lately, Jeanne-Marie had done a fine job looking after the kids; there had never been a problem save one small incident years ago on An'zhina, which hadn't really been Jeanne-Marie's fault anyway.

When Jean reached the Danger Room, she saw the rest of the team assembled, though she noticed that Hank was absent as well. "He left me a message on my communicator," Bobby was explaining. "He said he and Cyclops had a really late night and he was going to rest this morning."

"They must've had a marathon session," Jubilee said, "for even Beast to be this tired."

"Maybe they made some progress," Rogue hoped.

Jean shook her head. "Scott and I didn't really get a chance to talk, but…..it didn't seem like they got pretty far. In fact, even Charlotte told me this morning, `Daddy's really disappointed.'"

"Yeah, Hank sounded pretty bummed on his message," Bobby added.

The team went ahead with their preparations. Gambit had suggested beforehand that he ramp up the power to the Danger Room, to give the group one of their most challenging and difficult sessions. With the Cetians and FOH presumably traversing the galaxy, the X-men needed to remain sharp. The team felt up to the challenge and agreed. Their teamwork and fighting maneuvers were top-notch, as they faced and defeated any combination of enemies the Danger Room threw at them.

Cyclops eventually woke, showered, and dressed. He was surprised that he had remained asleep for so long, but his body thanked him for it after the stressful---and ultimately disappointing -- session the night and morning before.

Standing outside the entrance to the Danger Room, Cyclops's eyes widened at the readings he detected. He noted whose access code had made the changes and grew madder still. He fought to swallow his anger, and wait until the session was completed.

"Gambit," Cyclops later strode up to the Cajun in the locker room. Gambit was wiping his brow with a towel.

"Hey, you're finally outta bed! What's goin' on, Cyke?" Gambit asked. He saw the anger in Cyclops's walk and the set line of his mouth. Gambit used a casual, friendly tone to greet the X-men's leader, hoping to have a somewhat disarming effect.

But Gambit wasn't surprised when it didn't work.

"You turned up the power levels on the Danger Room program," Scott stated bluntly. "It was a needless waste of dilithium. What were you thinking??"

Cyclops and Gambit were not alone in the locker room. Some X-men chose to shower and change there; others simply walked to their rooms to accomplish the same task. (Gambit usually decided to make use of the locker room's facilities, as Rogue enjoyed long showers inside their quarters and he never liked to wait around for her to finish.) But Nightcrawler and Cannonball were in the vicinity, and their heads turned at Scott's words.

Gambit saw that the friendly, easy-going approach would not work. Scott's tone had been irritating, condescending. "I made the suggest'on. The others all agreed to it," he responded, flatly. The field commander on duty at that time had been Rogue, but Gambit refrained from adding in that fact. He didn't want his wife dragged into this.

"To suggest wasting dilithium--- when we have only a finite supply of it and no means of getting off this planet --- was wasteful and foolish."

This time, Remy's eyes glowed with anger. "Shit, Cyke, you're makin' a big deal outta not'in! Jean was dere when we decided to do dis. It was her dat said the amount of dilit'ium dis would use was negligible." Gambit wasn't fully sure that it had been Jean who had made that statement, but his anger got the best of him and he wanted to fluster Cyclops. "You need to get a grip," he added.

Cyclops stepped towards Gambit in an aggressive stance. Gambit took the position of mirroring it, ready to attack.

Cyclops roared, "Gambit, I'm the one who decides ---"

Suddenly, Nightcrawler teleported into the small amount of space between the two men. "Please, you two. Stop this. You don't want to get into a fight over something as small as this."

Cyclops and Gambit both automatically took a few steps back from each other.

"This is not worth fighting over," Kurt continued. "We can talk about our policies on dilithium usage at a meeting. But we don't need to fight like this."

"Maybe you're right," Cyclops said, through clenched teeth.

Kurt and Scott looked at Remy. "Okay," he said, though he didn't attempt to hide a snarl. Had Kurt not stepped between them, he would gladly have hit Scott.

Cyclops then turned and left the room When he was barely out of earshot, Gambit murmured derisively, "What an asshole."

When Cannonball had been new to the team, he tried to refrain from taking sides in conflict situations and would never have badmouthed his superiors. But Sam felt more established now, and had a better understanding of the group dynamics. "I'll say. What is his problem?"

"Cyclops is only trying to protect the best interests of his team," Nightcrawler said. "Please do not misunderstand," he said at their questioning looks. "I think that his approach to the situation was wrong and that he should not have overreacted. But surely you do understand where he is coming from – he is ultimately responsible for our safety and he was trying to make sure that we will have enough dilithium."

"Yeah, but Kurt, come on," Sam responded. "The man needs a reality check."

"He's always like dat," Gambit said, disgustedly. "Soon as I joined the team. He overreacts and he sure don't cut no one any slack – leas' of all, me." He sighed. "I tell you, Sam. Storm was a way better leader den him." `And she's so close,' he silently finished, 'jus' in dis very star system.'

**************

TO BE CONTINUED

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