Christmas in France

To Haretrigger: Hey there, Haretrigger. Actually, I did not intend Marie-Claire to ever join the West Coast Misfit team. She's not going to be a member. I do want to find a way to change her attitude, but I don't think it will be done in this fic anyway. How are our heroes going to get out of this situation? Let's find out, shall we? Enjoy the new chapter!

To mattb3671: Hey there matt! It's nice to hear from you again! It has been quite a while since I last heard from you, man. I'm glad you liked Firestorm's Cylon crack. The Battle Android Troopers are kind of like the Cylons from Battlestar Galactica when you think about it. I'm glad you liked my portrayal of Marie-Claire. How did her mother die? Well, I don't think I will elaborate on that. I used that because you never mentioned her in your fic and I needed a catalyst for Marie-Claire's angry behavior since in this universe, Marie-Claire's father accepted his daughter's mutation, and called in the West Coast Misfits in hopes of showing his daughter she is not alone, and that there are other kids out there who are going through the same things she is. I don't want to put Kyle and Marie-Claire together. She's 17, and he's only 13. Besides, they don't exactly like each other too much. I'll see if I can torture Kelly some more. Enjoy the new chapter, and I can hardly wait for the new chapter of "X-Man is Australian for Mutant"! Please put it up quick!

To Raliena: Hey there Rae! Yeah, somebody needs to explain the concept of teamwork to Marie-Claire. She thinks that Theresa is trying to order her around like she was on the team. In actuality, Theresa is just using what resources she has available to get a job done. She knows Marie-Claire is not a member of the team, but she needs Marie-Claire's help to get the B.E.T. out of danger, because she can make it so light, Siryn can easily push it away. Enjoy the new chapter!

To Red Witch: Hey there Red! I read your new one-shot 'Snow Fun' and I liked it! Poor Lance, still can't get a break. I was thinking of doing a fic where Lance spends some time in Europe when he decides to take a sabbatical from the Misfits. Yes, things did just get a little bit worse for our heroes! Enjoy the new chapter!

Disclaimer: "Yes, I am having difficulty controlling THE VOLUME OF MY VOICE!!!!!" - Mike Myers as Austin Powers, Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery

Chapter 13: Confrontation!

Paris, France

"Well, at least the French have nice hospitals." Senator Kelly grumbled. He walked out of the hospital, a bandage around his head. "I know it was a mutie who clonked me in the head with an anvil. I know that a mutie clonked me in the head with an anvil! Only a mutant could cause an anvil to fly through the air and clonk me in the head!" The American senator kept rambling and grumbling to himself. He didn't notice that he kept knocking into people angrily.

"Hey!"

"Watch it!"

"American jerk!"

"Stupid Americans! They think they own the freakin' place!" Kelly overheard and scowled.

"Freakin' French. They think they're better than everybody else." The bigoted senator grumbled. He walked out to the Eiffel Tower, grumbling the whole way there and to the top of it. He looked down. "Wow. Who would've thought it was so high." He noticed two people scuffle. "Hey!" He ran to break it up. "Watch it! Someone could fall over!" He got accidentally hit by a backhand to the nose, and he fell over the edge. Kelly fell down the tower, screaming the whole way.

An underground parking garage

Theresa Rourke, the Ireland-born leader of the West Coast Misfits, and Marie-Claire d'Agastino, a teenage French heiress, pushed the Broadcast Energy Transmitter Mark II across the garage. The machine was hovering off the ground. Marie-Claire had used her mutant power to alter the pull of gravity of an object to make the normally-heavy machine light as a feather.

"Is there anywhere we can hide this thing?" Theresa asked.

"How should I know?!" Marie-Claire snapped. "You already forced me to push this heavy machine around like a commoner, and now you tell me you don't have any idea where we should place it?!"

"I don't see how this device can be such a burden to ye considering ye can practically take all the weight away from this thing!" Theresa exclaimed in amazement. "Ye know, I give no blame for his attitude towards ye."

"You actually agree with that…that…foul-mouthed, no-good American?!" Marie-Claire exclaimed. "He is no better than anyone else from his country! They walk around, acting like they own the rest of the world!"

"I live in America." Theresa said. "Even though me heart belongs to Ireland, I have grown to enjoy living in the US. People there are very nice, and they really have no culture of their own. It's a mix-and-match of a whole bunch of cultures. It's really interesting. On one street, I saw restaurants that served Greek food, Chinese food, Indian food, and even one that served French food. It wasn't half-bad." Theresa grinned. Marie-Claire snorted.

"I highly doubt zat ze average American even knows where zat food comes from." Marie-Claire tossed her dark hair over her shoulder and crossed her arms. Theresa groaned.

"Ye are so lucky Thunderbolt didn't hear that remark, Miss d'Agastino." The Irish girl groaned. "He's very proud of where he's from. The two girls heard an explosion from upstairs. "Come on. The gang is keeping Overkill and his oversized Tinker Toys upstairs occupied, but it may not hold much longer."

"Let me tell you something, Rourke. I am not someone who is ordered around!" Marie-Claire snapped. "Ever since I met you and your little team, I have been the object of abuse, particularly by zat redneck Lightning Bolt or whatever that egomaniac likes to call himself.

"I'm not in the mood to start a fight now, Marie-Claire." Theresa warned. "We have to do a job here."

"You have a job." Marie-Claire smirked.

"I don't understand where ye get off acting like some selfish brat." Theresa said. "If me Da caught me acting like that, he'd give me a sonic scream right in the ears!"

"I am not some commoner you can order around! I am a blue-blood, if you have forgotten."

"I'm well-aware of that." Theresa grumbled. "Let me tell ye something. I may not have had the money or the bloodline you have, nor even much of a normal childhood, but let me tell ye, I had me a family, and I was plenty rich with me Da. We have more in common that ye think, ye know."

"Like what?" Marie-Claire huffed.

"Like the fact we both lost a mum." Theresa sighed. A nerve seemed to be hit in the aloof French girl.

"I have no mother." Marie-Claire snarled.

"Your father said that ye started acting the way ye did after she died." Theresa said. "Do you…remember her?" Marie-Claire's face twisted in anger. She glared at Siryn.

"Do…not…speak…of…her!" Marie-Claire snarled angrily. Her eyes flashed white, but Theresa caught it, and cut her off with a light sonic scream, knocking her on her butt.

"Do you remember your mother? Because I don't!" Theresa said. "Me mother died when I was a baby. Her home was bombed. Where I come from, that's not uncommon. Where I come from, people tried to wipe each other off the face of the earth simply because they believed in a slightly different religion."

"I do remember my mother." Marie-Claire growled. "And she was a chien (A/N: 'chien' is the French word for 'dog')" Her eyes flashed white, and a car nearby her raised into the air. "She turned her back on me and Father!" The car sped towards the Irish blonde. Theresa knocked it away with a sonic blast.

"Something tells me ye did not have a very good relationship with her." Theresa grumbled. But then again, I think I may have hit a nerve.

Well, well, well! Looks like There's more than one fight brewing! What insanity will happen next? Will or heroes be able to save the day? What of this little spat? Find out in the next chapter! Suggestions needed badly!