Chapter One: "In The Beginning"

Picture this: On a cool Wednesday in late spring, a 1965 red Shelby Cobra with white racing stripes, traveled south on a winding road that was scattered with the shade of leaves on the maples that swayed in the breeze as the car raced past. One would think that on such a beautiful and relaxing day, the mind would naturally find something appropriately soothing to focus on. However, this was not the case of Scott Summers. The twenty-four year old young man had found himself thrown into quite a predicament. Though somewhat inexperienced, he was now the head of the large Institute for Gifted Youngsters, a boarding school for a constantly expanding group of young mutants, so today, his mind had not found joy in the beauty of nature, but was wandering to more pressing topics. This was not so with his companion, twenty-one year old Kitty Pryde. She had her hand thrust out the side window, playing with the gusts of air and daydreaming of the beginning of a new summer and all its ripe possibilities. Now and then, Kitty stuck both her hands above her head and waved them around; laughing at the way the air tried to push them back down inside the convertible. Ignoring his friend's lighthearted antics, Scott pulled into the closest gas station to fill up the tank for the last time before arriving at the Institute. Scott and Kitty were making their way back to the Institute after picking Kitty up earlier that morning from Columbia University for summer break. After filling up, Scott made his way inside to pay. Kitty remained in the car after seeing a familiar Jeep slowly pass close by the parking lot.

"And make sure you get me one of those yummy frappacino's, okay," Kitty yelled after him. Then, thinking to herself, "I wonder if that's Lance's Jeep? Oh my gosh! It is!" she squealed inside her head. She glanced uneasily at the station where Scott had just walked in the door, his back to her.

After spying Kitty in the all too familiar convertible, Lance quickly turned around and headed back toward the gas station, upsetting his traveling companion, Wanda Maximoff, who let off a string of curses relating to his absurd sentimentality. Lance pulled into the parking lot, and ignoring Wanda, got out, looked over, and caught Kitty staring in his direction. He waved and started walking over.

Kitty thought happily to herself, "He's coming over here." Then she glanced in the mirror, "Oh, crap! My hair!" She spat in her hand and smoothed her sleek brown hair back into its usual neat ponytail.

"Hey, sexy!" Lance called out, with his usual smirk plastered across his face.

Kitty laughed at his self-confidence, "Hey, babe!"

She smiled up at him as he came over and stood next to her door. He glanced up at the shop window where Scott was STILL standing in line. He rolled his eyes and looked back down at Kitty.

"So, what are you and Superdufus up to today?" Lance asked, sarcasm evident in his tone.

Kitty, ignoring his insult, answered, "I just got out of my last class and we're headed back to the Institute." She glanced past him and set her eye on Wanda. Cocking her head to the side she questioned, "So, what trouble have you gotten into today?"

Lance walked around to the other side of the car and got in. He grinned over at Kitty, who, once more, had begun nervously glancing in Scott's direction.

Lance rubbed his greasy hands on the steering wheel thoughtfully. He looked over at her and replied, "You know, if I was to tell you all that, I might need to have a seat first. Hope Cyclod doesn't mind."

Kitty, giggling, answered, "As long as you don't bury it anywhere." She looked over at Lance's Jeep, and asked, "Is that Wanda?"

"Yah," he rejoined uninterestedly. "So," he continued, "Did you miss me, Kate?"

"Totally! I was hoping to see you sometime this month while I'm on vaca! You can come see me at Columbia, you know," she added, a little perturbed that he hadn't come see her but once after she had started there. Lance knew where this was going to end up if he didn't shift the course her mind was running to. "Do I get a 'Hello' kiss or what?" He looked at her hopefully, making the puppy-dog face he knew she couldn't resist. Kitty arched her eyebrow, knowing that this was his not-so-subtle attempt at changing the subject. However, just the thought of kissing him made the sides of Kitty's mouth slowly curve up enticingly as she gazed at him from beneath her lowered lids and replied, "Make it quick, and make it count."

X X X X X X X X X X

Scott finally reached the counter and proceeded to pay for the gas while joking with the cashier.

"Busy much?" Scott asked him, smirking at his own joke.

"Naw, dude," he replied. "Today's a slow day."

By now, the store had emptied except for one customer behind Scott, who had begun tapping her thick-soled boot against the floor. Scott turned around with a questioning look on his face and began to say something placatory until he recognized the boot's owner.

"Hey X-fag, where's your boyfriend?" Wanda asked sarcastically.

Scott replied, "Don't know, where's yours? Oh wait, Pietro's not here, is he?"

"Nice, your comebacks are as lame as your Professor," She stated derisively. "Learn much at the institution?"

"More than at yours," he rejoined. He rolled his eyes, annoyed, and then unexpectedly caught a glimpse of Kitty and Lance making out in his car. He walked over to the door while the cashier was making the change and yelled at Kitty, "Kitty, I told you, no trash on the upholstery! That's Italian leather you're ruining!"

Wanda snorted, "Looks like your fellow X-geek isn't such a loyal little cat after all. Isn't that what you would call fraternizing with the enemy? Oh I'm sorry," she continued, "I forgot, you're too retarded to understand that. Of course, that is why you still live at the institute for the gifted."

"Really, Wanda, what's a girl like you doin' in a place like this anyways? I'd say it's a bit too classy for you," he answered sharply, getting a bit wound up at her still being there.

Kitty walked in holding hands with Lance.

"Scott, you through yet?" She asked him, and then continued after becoming aware of Wanda, "Oh, I didn't mean to interrupt your conversation with the Scarlet Bitch. Carry on."

Wanda looked at Kitty, and then acidly replied, "Hey, Slutocat."

Kitty sneered back and then wandered off to the drink coolers. Wanda turned to Lance and continued, "So, Lance, will your little kitty be joining us any time soon?"

Before Lance could reply, the cashier spoke up, addressing Scott, recognition in his eyes, "Look, you seem like a nice enough guy and all, but, come on, two X-Men and two Brotherhood walk into a gas station, I really don't want to see the butt end of that joke."

Scott stuck his hand out to shake the cashier's hand, replying, "That's okay, man, we were just leaving. Weren't we?"

Kitty walked back over to them, looked up at Lance with regret, and walked out the door with Scott.

She looked back over her shoulder at him, winked, and made kissing motions with her lips. He mouthed 'call me', and waved as he and Wanda got into the Jeep.

Kitty heard Scott mumble something and she turned around.

"Oh great," he muttered, looking down at his seat, "look what Avaloser left for me to clean up." He pointed down at his seat with disgust.

Kitty looked at the greasy butt print in the seat and stifled a grin, and replied, "I'm so sorry, Scott. I'll help you clean it up when we get home."

Scott tried to wipe as much of it off as he could with some tissue, and got in, stating, "I don't know what you see in that loser, anyway."

Kitty frowned at him, and instantly jumped to Lance's defense, "He's not as bad as you think he is. You just won't give him a chance to show you what a great guy he really is."

"I gave him a chance once and what did he do?" Scott retorted. "He went right back to the Loserhood."

Kitty was thoroughly pissed now, "Ooh, Scott you can be such an ass sometimes. The only reason he went back to the Brotherhood is because you drove him back. The first little thing that went wrong you accused him. And it wasn't even his fault. It's no wonder he hates you as much as he does. You just can't stand anyone who doesn't live up to your "perfect" standards." She turned towards the window and started mumbling to herself, "It's amazing that you have stayed with Jean so long."

Scott heard her comment. "What's that supposed to mean?" He asked incredulously.

"I mean, how can you condemn Lance, when your own girlfriend isn't exactly the model citizen herself?" She replied. Then continuing, "You see what you want to and to hell with everything else."

"There isn't anything wrong with Jean. She is one of the most caring, unselfish people I know," he said, getting somewhat angry. "You need to get off the defensive and stick to the point."

Kitty grunted, "Yah, and I think you need to update the prescription on those rose-colored glasses of yours, cause you're blind to the truth."

"If anyone is blind to the truth, it's you Kitty," he answered her, amazed at her purposely ignoring the point. "We've told you time and time again that Lance isn't worth the time of day. I just don't want to see you get hurt by him when you finally realize that he is as much of a bum as we've made him out to be."

"How are you going to feel when you realize that Jean isn't the little Miss Perfect that you make her out to be?"

"Oh, come on, Kitty," he held, "Stop bringing Jean into this. She is irrelevant to the point. The point is that Lance is a loser and I don't think it's in your best interest to continue seeing him."

"Okay, yah, whatever. Just because you are in charge of the team does not mean you are in charge of my life, so just stay out of it. I'll date whoever I feel like dating; THAT is the point. I'd like you to keep your opinion of my personal life to yourself from now on, if you don't mind."

Scott glanced at her, disappointed at her unconcern, "Hey, it's your heart's funeral."

When they arrived at the Institute, Kitty got out of the car, slammed the door, and skulked inside. She perked up at the sight of Pyotr coming down the front staircase. Scott tried to follow her in to apologize, but Kitty saw him coming in, ran up the stairs, grabbed Pyotr's arm, and dragged him toward the television room. Scott walked up the front steps shaking his head, when he was greeted suddenly by a rush of little footsteps as his goddaughter, three year old Rosie and his adopted son, five year old Nate ran to meet him, once again completing their daily ritual after nap. He squatted down and braced himself as they both tried to leap into his arms at once.

Scott laughed at their antics, "Whoa! You two are getting too big for that! See, Nate, look at your muscles. You're almost as big as me, little man."

"I gots bigger mussews dan him, Cykie!" Rosie squealed happily. "Wook!" She proceeded to show him.

"Nuh-uh," Nate argued, "I have the biggestest. Pop said so." He flexed his bicep to compare.

Scott smiled indulgently, "Wow, Rosie you are growing up so fast."

She beamed up at him.

"Where is your papa?" he asked.

Rosie replied, "He's in class, an' mama's wit Aunt Wogue."

"Let's go find your mama then," he stated, and then added, "Nate, where's your mommy, son?

Nate shrugged, "Don't know, Pop. I was sleepin'."

Rosie piped up, "I know! I know! Je's is wit Awowo. Dey's in de speshow pwace. Dey wundent take me wit dem. Hmph!" She crossed her arms in disgust at not being included. "Come on, sweetie. Let's go play with Uncle Wuvy." Scott picked up Rosie in one arm and Nate in another, and looked down at them, saying, "Nate, do you want to go play with Robby or Wolvie?"

Nate thought for a moment, "Let's go see Wolvie and Uncle Alex in the training room. They had class today. Mommy let me watch them in the control room 'fore my nap," and then giggling, "Uncle Alex got blasted!"

Scott arched an eyebrow unbelievingly, "Really? Let's go find out why, shall we?" He bounced them around in his arms as they made their way to the training room, three floors down.

The elevator doors opened and Logan was standing there criticizing Alex on his poor performance in the Danger Room that morning.

Rosie jumped out of Scott's arms and waddled as fast as she could, arms outstretched, towards Logan.

Rosie squealed at the top of her lungs, "Wuvy, Wuvy, Wuvy, Wuvy, Wuvy!!"

Logan caught her as she catapulted herself into his arms, and swung her high above his head.

Rosie was one of the few people who charm a smile out of her 'Uncle Wuvy', her favorite plaything in the whole world. She turned on her little wiles full force today, and had him grinning from ear to ear at her.

Logan growled, "So, have you come to start your training today, Little Soldier?"

Rosie rubbed her hands around in his hair and answered disinterestedly, "No, we cum to see what is wong wiv Nate's Uncew Awex."

Logan mumbled under his breath, "There's alotta things wrong with that boy, kiddo," he grimaced suddenly, "Ouch, cut that out, kid."

Meanwhile, Scott walked over to Alex and handed him Nate.

"Hey lil X-dude! Did you, like, already take your nap, man?" Alex juggled him around in his arms until Nate started to giggle.

Nate replied, still laughing, "Yep. An' Pop said we could see why you got blasted."

Alex whispered to him, "Dude, I was, like, totally scammin on this hot chick in class today, and I wasn't, like, lookin where I was supposed to, so I got knocked on the old can right in front of her. It was, like, a total wipeout. So, how's it goin with your chick friend?"

Nate whispered back, "Paige colored wit' me today. I drew a pitcher of a flower and she put it on her wawl."

"Good goin, lil dude," Alex smiled, "She, like, totally likes you."

Logan walked over with Rosie on his back.

"I got a hungry soldier here," Logan told them, "What do ya say we go up to the mess hall and get some grub?"

Rosie looked at them, her little face perplexed, "I wawnt a gwub. Nate, Wuvy said we couwd eat gwub. What's gwub?

Nate shrugged, "Maybe it's chocwate miwk."

X X X X X X X X X X

Later that day:

At the end of a lit corridor, two women emerged from behind an enormous high-security metal door. As they walked down the long hall, deep in conversation, one of them, Jean Grey, on the verge of tears, suddenly stopped and leaned her back against the cold steel wall.

"How long can this go on, Ororo?" she exclaimed. "Everyday is the same, no improvement at all. This non-success is a living hell!"

Her friend, Ororo Munroe, replied, trying to forestall the frustrations she could sense in Jean, "Just thank God that his condition doesn't grow any worse. I think the fact that it doesn't, is proof that he's still fighting."

Jean closed her eyes, trying to relax her mind, evidently depressed, "But everyday I try to connect with him telepathically, and all I find is an eternal vacuum. It's like looking into space with a telescope and not finding a single trace of a star anywhere. I feel ready to give up."

Ororo knit her brows at that comment, "How can you say that? Charles would never give up on you, and neither would anyone else. We will find the answers. We just need to keep fighting too!"

Jean stood up straight, and continued walking down the hallway, addressing Ororo, who followed, "That is so easy for you to say. You have the blind faith that he will come back to us fully restored. I have to search for him through the limitless caverns of his empty mind and everyday I find no hope of anything. I would give anything for one tiny glimmer of hope, just to hold me through until he wakes up. But I stare his death in the face for an hour every day and . . . and . . .," she broke down into tears, ". . . I can't do it anymore!"

"Jean, he'll be fine!" Ororo tried to reassure her, "Don't worry, you're doing a great job, and he'll be back in no time." She reached over and hugged Jean, adding, "And if Charles is gone, well, you know he wouldn't want us to be upset, but to move on and continue his work."

"But I can't!" She sobbed, "How can you be so calm? He is our family!"

Scott came around the corner further down the hall, looking for Jean. He saw Jean sobbing in Ororo's arms, and raced down the corridor to help comfort her. He took her gently from Ororo, and talked to her in a soothing tone, "Jean, sweetie, it's going to be okay. We'll work through this together, all right?"

She looked up into his face, tears streaming down hers. He tried to smile reassuringly, but it was obvious that her pain was affecting him deeply. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and led her to the elevator. Ororo decided to give them some privacy and so walked through the set of doors located across the hall from the elevators. She nodded and smiled weakly to Scott as he and Jean disappeared behind the closing doors.

"Jean, honey, maybe you have been overdoing it a bit lately," he began, "What do you think about a vacation or something? I don't want you to be too stressed out over this.

Jean snorted bitterly, "A bit late for that don't you think?"

Scott looked down at her in amazement. He had suspected that this would come eventually. After Professor Charles Xavier was in his near-fatal car crash that resulted in his now comatose state, Jean was the one who insisted on caring for him. She had even reassured Scott that she wouldn't become overworked in adding this to her already full plate of attending medical school, caring for their five-year-old son, and teaching at the Institute.

Scott thought for a moment, "Tell you what. I'll get Ororo to take over Charles' care for a week and Logan and Remy will keep the kids in line while we go see your parents this weekend and then head out to the Ranch in California." He looked down at her, "How does that sound?"

"Are you sure?" she replied, skeptically.

"Of course, he assured her, "I don't like to see you so exhausted all the time. I want you to be thoroughly rested up, especially for our honeymoon, honey." He smiled at her mischievously.

"Ugh! Scott!" She shoved against his shoulder in disgust, and then smirked, wrapping her arms around his waist and held her face up, waiting for a kiss. Scott leaned down close to her face until they were nose-to-nose and whispered, "I just want you to be happy, Jean. I would do anything to guarantee that."

"Well you could do one thing," she replied impishly, starting to play with the buttons on his collar.

Scott laughed, "And what would that be, madam?"

Jean encircled her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, whispering, "Kiss me, already!

"My pleasure," he rejoined, pressing his mouth firmly against her soft lips.

The elevator doors opened suddenly, and the two people standing in the hall waiting were surprised to find Scott and Jean kissing passionately inside.

Remy LeBeau arched an eyebrow, and said laughing, "Get a room!"

His wife Rogue, taken aback, covered her eyes with her hand and shook her head. "An' ah thought ya'll was s'possed to be settin' a good example!" she drawled.

Scott grinned sheepishly, "Sorry."

Jean, blushing, stuttered, "Uh . . . we were just leaving . . . come on Scott!" She grabbed his hand and dragged him after her down the hall.

Remy, still laughing, called after them, "Oui, mon ami, make love, not war, ha ha!"

Rogue punched him on the shoulder, and shoved him in the elevator before he could make anymore insinuating remarks. "Would you come on!" she exclaimed, "We're alreddy late foah the instructuh's meetin'." She continued, her Southern twang unmistakable, "An' since Scott an' Jean obviously ain't commin', somebuddy's gotta be theyah to listen to Hank drone on. An' since you started helpin' in tha athletics with Logan, you gotta listen to him too, pal."

The doors opened on the first floor where they exited the elevator, and proceeded towards the library, where almost all the instructors were assembled for the usual weekly assignments.

Remy let out a sigh, "Oh, well. Come on, ma chere, boredom is waiting."

He took her gloved hand in his and they walked through the double doors to the library together. The group that met their eyes consisted of: Hank McCoy, Head of the Science Department and the Advanced Physical Sciences instructor; Ororo Munroe, Head of the Humanities Department, and the World History instructor; and James Logan, Head of the Athletic Department and Advanced Abilities and Weaponry Trainer. The younger group consisted of the X-Men who were either in or had just graduated college, and had stayed on to teach the others. They were: Kurt Wagner, German instructor; Allison Blair, Music instructor; Bobby Drake, Offence Coordination Trainer and Computer Sciences instructor; Warren Worthington III, Advanced Math instructor; Kitty Pryde, Dance and Chemistry instructor; Pyotr Rasputin, Art instructor; and of course Rogue LeBeau was the American History instructor, and her husband Remy, the Defense Coordination Trainer, and French instructor. Rogue noticed that Scott (the English instructor) and Jean (the Biology instructor) were still missing. She let go of Remy's hand with a smile, promising to get his French requirements for the week, and walked over to her department's group that was already starting to gather around Ororo.

Ororo clapped her hands together several times to get their attention, causing an elongated rumbling effect that echoed off the stately antique oaken bookshelves of the grand library.

"Okay people," she began, "settle down. Let's get this over with as quickly as possible. I know you can all think of other places you'd rather be. This week's assignments are also to include last week's make-up work. Let's try to get it all in this week." She glanced over at Kurt, who shrugged apologetically, "We have a schedule to keep. By the way, since Scott couldn't make it, would someone volunteer to take his assignments to him for me?

Rogue answered, "Ah' saw him while ago. Ah'll take it up to him for ya."

Ororo smiled her appreciation, "Thank you, Rogue." She then started giving out curriculum assignments.

Pyotr Rasputin looked over at the other groups. He wondered if they were as bored as he was. His eyes wandered over the faces until they found Kitty's and there they stopped. She was cracking jokes with Bobby while Hank was trying to organize some of his files. Kitty felt someone looking at her and glanced around the room. She saw Pyotr staring at her intently. She made a yawning motion and smiled at him.

Pyotr sighed, and thought to himself, "It is too bad that she is likink that Lance clown. We are havink so much fun, when we are being togethers."

Ororo had almost finished giving out the assignments when she turned to Pyotr, "And that brings us around to art. Pyotr. Ahem. Pyotr?"

Pyotr turned quickly around, flushing, "Da?"

"Nice of you to join us, Mr. Rasputin," she smiled, having seen him focused on Kitty instead of the assignments, "Your assignments are to have the students sketch or paint from life. Follow the guidelines in the curriculum to introduce the technique and then you can improvise." She handed him his folder, saying, "This is a week-long project, so make sure you are thoroughly prepared, okay?"

Pyotr flipped through it, pretending to pay attention, but his mind was still on the cute little brunette across the room, "This is acceptable. Is that all?"

Ororo skimmed through her files, looking for something she might have forgotten, "Yes, everything seems to be in order . . . No, wait, one more thing," she pulled out a piece of paper and skimmed its contents before handing it over to him, "It is recommended to have several examples, either by you or by the masters. Now we're done," She turned to the rest of the group, "You may all go now, and make it quietly, please."

Her group, anxious to get out, rushed from the room in a single mass, all the while each feeling sorry for Hank's group boredly listening to the importance of following safety guidelines during experimentation. Rogue passed by Bobby, and noticed him rolling his eyes. She walked closer to him and slapped him in the back of the head.

Bobby yelled, "Ow! What the heck was that for!"

Rogue glared at him, and chided, "Pay attention, ya dufus! Else you'll end up lak me, or worse!"

After getting over his shock, Hank added, "Rogue is right, Bobby. After she lost her powers, though she didn't have a problem with it, she did acknowledge that following safety procedures would have prevented it."

Bobby looked at Hank and then at Rogue, who had just walked through the double doors, shaking her head. "Sheesh! Sorry, okay. I totally didn't think it was even that important," he said semi-apologetically.

"All right, Bobby. Just listen next time," Hank handed him a sheaf of papers, "Here are your assignments for the week," He turned to her Kitty, "Here are yours, and would you mind taking Jean's assignments to her?"

Kitty looked through her assignments absentmindedly, and replied, "Sure, like okay, I guess."

If Kitty appeared distracted, it was because she most definitely WAS.

She had called Lance almost directly after coming in that afternoon when she had finally ditched Pyotr with the kids watching Johnny Bravo in the T.V. room. She had sat there for almost an hour on the phone and totally ragged on Scott, but Lance hadn't even insulted him once. Something was definitely wrong here. They were going out on one of their dates tonight, and Lance had said he was going to pick her up. He knew better than that. Never, under any circumstances, was he allowed to pick her up at the Institute. The Defcon 5 system would probably attack him before he got within three feet of the gates. She walked from the room, preoccupied with Lance's cryptic comments, and ran straight into Pyotr's broad chest, where he was waiting for her in the hallway. She started walking toward the elevator, with Pyotr following close behind her.

Kitty looked over her shoulder at him, smiling apologetically, "Oh, sorry Pyotr, I didn't see you there." She reached the elevator, pushed the button and then turned to him, "What's up?"

Pyotr peered intently at the laces on his boots, "Vell," he began, looking everywhere but at her, "I am vantink to know if you are goink to vatch the Fortune Veel vith us tonight?"

Kitty frowned regretfully, "Sorry, Pete," she answered, using her favorite nickname for him, "I gotta date with Lance tonight. How about tomorrow night?"

"This is okay," he answered her, all the while thinking to himself, "Her Lance is not so great. I bet I am much more of the man than he is."

Kitty, sensing his disappointment, offered, "Or, better yet, tomorrow, you and I can go catch a movie at the Cineplex in town. How's that sound?"

Pyotr looked up from his shoelaces and agreed happily, "Okay, vee vill go see movie in town."

"See you later," She replied, as she reached over and hugged him, and then got into the waiting elevator. She rode for a few seconds in silence, still thinking about Lance until the doors opened, and revealed the waiting Rogue.

Rogue grinned at her best friend, "Hey, Kat," then seeing her worried look, asked, "What's wrawng? You looked really preoccupied at the instructor's meetin'."

Kitty shook her head, "It's nothin'. Just, Lance is acting weird. He didn't make fun of Scott one time this afternoon when I was talkin' on the phone with him. And he wants to pick me up here tonight. Is he trying to get himself killed? Rogue, I'm worried. Lance said that we needed to talk tonight. What if Scott was right about him? I don't think I could handle it if Lance turned out to be the person Scott makes him out to be. He's going to be here in an hour and I'm totally freakin' out here!"

Rouge smiled knowingly at Kitty's anxiety, "Kat, calm down. If I've learned anythin' bout' Lance, it's that he adores you," she shrugged, and offered, "Maybe he's decided to come back to the good side."

Kitty snorted incredulously and replied, "Have you been drinking to much bayou backwash or something! After what happened last time, Lance would sooner see us all pooted off the face of the earth than put up with us again!"

Rogue laughed at her. "Kit, you seriously need to de-analize. Lance likes you a lot. He probably even loves you. Stop over thinking everything; you're starting to sound like Jean."

Kitty looked at her darkly, "Do you want to die a painful death? Cause I can make it happen. Don't you think I know my own boyfriend?"

"Geez, didn't thank you was so touchy. What's up between you an' Jean anyways?" Rogue replied, taken aback at her friend's unusual hostility.

"Sorry, Rogue. I just . . . oh, never mind," Kitty stumbled out.

"No prob. Just thank about what I said, 'kay?" Rogue smiled tenderly at her best friend before turning to go. Kitty smiled back inattentively. She was already contemplating Rogue's words, secretly wanting to believe them, but had already been hurt too much by Lance to give any credulity to the thought that he would give up anything for her. They may like each other a lot, but she was convinced he still hung out with her only to annoy Scott and Xavier. It was okay by her; they needed to learn their place anyhow. However, she wanted it to be more than just a fun fling. She just wished Lance would feel the same.

X X X X X X X X X X

Thursday:

On the end of a narrow alleyway, a figure silently emerged from the shadows. After cautiously observing her surroundings, she had made her way to the place where she knew he would be. Muscular, slim, and what most men in their right mind would call sexy; this woman had a purpose. And like all women who set their minds toward one ultimate goal, she would stop at nothing until she got what she wanted, even if it meant stooping to this level of degradation. This was what led her in the direction of the labs on the campus of Brown's medical school. If one had seen her reflection across the brick wall, it would no longer appear tall, stately, and powerfully built, but had become more slender, graceful, and poised as she made her way to the edge of the passageway. She was none other than Mystique, a domineering metamorph who was on a mission of retribution against the two who had slighted her four years before. In her mind, forever was not long enough to pay back those by whom she had been affronted. Now, she had found just the man to help her settle the score, and for good this time.

X X X X X X X X X X