Hank sat on the couch, still watching the television though the news was unchanging. No news on any survivors from the destroyed buildings, the UN was in an uproar, including the US, who, though finding it impossible to shut down, was not allowing any American to travel anywhere, and all foreign visitors were being located and tested for being mutantcy. All humans were immediately shipped back to their country of origin under heavy guard and all mutants were taken to a detention center for questioning. The only new news seemed to be that a British-based mutant group calling themselves the 'Members' were taking responsibility.

But none of the mattered to Hank in the slightest way, he was waiting for news of Steph, any news, if she was found and in a hospital somewhere, if she was still trapped. He couldn't even bring himself to think she was dead, she couldn't be.

Upstairs he could hear Scott still pacing, not having stopped moving at all since Xavier told them he was not going to be able to return to the mansion for awhile and that the Blackbird had been taken to make sure no illegal flights across the sea were made, ruining anyone's plans of going after Steph. Kurt had called and said he was going to London as soon as possible to search, and Kitty was going to accompany him. But the line had disconnected them before they could discuss getting Steph home.

Hank stroked his daughter's hair where she slept on his chest, clinging to him for warmth and security, his throat tightening and a tear leaking down the side of his face. He couldn't conceive the thought of being an only parent, of Sam perhaps never remembering Steph. He had to banish those thoughts from his mind. Steph had to be found, she would be.

After a while Steph slowly pulled out the wallet again, flipping it open and looking through it. There were a few credit cards, but nothing really interesting to her.

Then she pulled a small photo from the back. She was in it, in a white dress and holding something in her arms. Looking closer through the smoky room Steph was shocked to see it was a baby. There was a man behind her, a large, furry blue man who was smiling and revealing sharp teeth. Steph could see that his hands were around her waist.

Who was he? Who was the baby?

Steph felt light headed as a thought came to mind, perhaps this was a family photo? Could she be related at all to these two?

She looked up as she heard a sharp clap as the door opened and then snapped shut and caught a glimpse of a tall, brown-haired man in dark sunglasses and a brown trench coat before he dived under a table near her booth. A few minutes later two policemen burst in, looking out of breath as the men in the bar looked up.

"Did a tall bloke just run in here" asked one of the police.

The bartender shook his head. "Nope, we've all been in here since the curfew landed" he said. "I wouldn't allow any law-breakers in here."

The police looked around, but no one said anything about the man hiding under the table not five feet from the door.

"Sorry you all got stuck here" said the talkative policeman. He looked over at Steph and paused a moment, looking ready to say something before his partner shook his head.

"Come on" he said. "The man's broken curfew, we've got to catch him."

The first officer nodded and they turned, shutting the door as they raced out.

After a moment the man who had narrowly escaped being caught crawled out, standing and brushing off his knees as he smiled at the bartender.

"My t'anks" he said in a heavily accented voice. Steph watched him out of the corner of her eye.

"Don't let it happen again. The government is serious about upholding the curfew right now" was the reply.

The man looked around and suddenly noticed Steph, his smile widening as he strode up.

"Do I know you from somewhere chere" he asked.

Steph blinked, surprised that he might have recognized her face.

"I…couldn't tell ya" she said slowly, looking down at her coffee and stuffing her wallet back into her pocket.

"Nah, guess y' couldn't" he said, sitting down across from her. "But you're dat speaker, right? De petite from New York, Steph McCoy"

Steph's heart leapt as she straightened in her seat. "Ya know who I am"

"Mos' muties in de US do chere" he said. "Remy, Remy LeBeau." He offered his hand, and to Steph's surprise when she held hers out he took it and kissed it instead of shaking it. A few of the men in the bar noticed as well, watching the newcomer intently.

"Ya…why would mutants know me" Steph asked, confused as she jerkily pulled her hand away.

Remy looked mildly surprised, though his smile didn't falter.

"Chere, you talk 'bout muties n' humans gettin' along, 'n you help schools for muties t' get started. Not t' mention you ain't dat hard on de eyes." He chuckled and took off his sunglasses, and for a moment Steph was slightly taken aback by the red on black eyes that stared back at her. "You're prob'ly gettin' more attention den you know."

"I…I speak out f'r mutants" Steph said, head whirling. Was she actually someone important?

Remy was looking at her curiously now, his eyes traveling over her forehead as he moved over to sit next to her and turned her head with his hand to get a better look.

"Is dere somet'in wrong petite" he asked.

Steph was still slightly jumpy as she stared into his unusual eyes. "I...no...I mean" she said.

Then she sighed. "I have...no clue, no clue 'bout who I am, 'cept a name…."

Remy's eyebrows shot up. "Did somet'in happen t' ya"

Steph shrugged.

"I woke up in a collapsed building or somethin' n' came here. I don't remember anything... but I found a wallet with the name Steph Logan McCoy and figured I was her. Guess I am"

Remy nodded, still looking unsure as the bartender spoke up, having overheard part of the conversation.

"Begging your pardon, Miss, you're the young lady from America they're looking for, from over where the university was bombed" he asked, looking pale. The other man at the counter looked over.

"No" Remy said suddenly, still looking at Steph, who's mouth had gone dry. "We were talkin' 'bout 'ow much she looks like dat woman."

The bartender nodded and went back to his business slowly while Steph frowned.

"Why'd ya tell him that" she asked in a low voice.

Remy shook his head. "I wouldn' trust nobody in dis place, no matter how nice dey act" he replied in a lower voice, which Steph just barely heard over the music in the bar.

She was uncertain of his reasoning and his presence, but didn't show it as she picked up her untouched coffee and took a sip, only to find that it had already gone cold.

Remy watched her for a moment, then got up and returned a bit later with a beer in his hand, smiling again.

"Well, den how you t'inking you'll get home" he asked.

Steph's eyes narrowed slightly. What was so funny?

"What d'ya mean" she asked.

Remy shook his head. "If you don' know what 'appened, you don' know dat dere is no way t' get outta England right now. Dey shut down all de airlines n' boats; lookin' for de mutants who bombed every big building in de country, including de one you were in, 'parently."

Steph shook her head gingerly. "N' yer smiling' at me why then"

Remy shrugged. "You'll need a place t' sleep till you can get home. You wanna stay wit me"

Steph stared at him, her mouth hanging open slightly before he suddenly leaned forward and kissed her. For a moment Steph found herself reciprocating, but suddenly in front of her she saw not Remy, but a larger face with dark eyes and dark blue fur covering it, glasses set on a broad nose.

For a moment she was so startled that she froze, then turned her head sharply, breaking contact with Remy as her head painfully twinged from the sudden motion.

"Chere" Remy said.

Steph ignored him, eyes closed tightly as she tried to remember the face. It was the same as the man in the picture. She looked down at her hand and suddenly saw a gold ring with three diamonds set in the metal on her right ring finger, the jewels sparkling even in the dim light.

Remy noticed it to, and his face became unreadable as he turned away.

"Sorry" he muttered"I didn't know..."

Steph stared at the ring, then pulled out the picture and looked at the man again.

"No" she whispered. "I didn't either...d' ya know who this is" She showed him the picture to with fleeting hopes.

He barely glanced at it. "By de looks, your husband n' child"

Steph stared at the picture, the obvious conclusion suddenly occurring to her.

"My... child" she breathed, unable to stop looking at the photo.

Remy looked at her again, obviously surprised. "You really did loose your mind den, didn't you"

Steph blinked. "I told ya..."

"I t'ought you were jokin'" he said, shrugging. "Well den, I really do 'pologize. You' still welcome t' camp at my place till y' find out how t' contact your family. I won't try nuthin. I swear" he added hastily, seeing the look on her face.

She sighed and looked at the picture, almost crying out in frustration but managing to hold back by biting her lip. Something felt odd in her throat for a minute and as she grunted "Thanks" she noticed a certain vibration in her words, but didn't pay too much attention.

"Great" said Remy, looking dizzy and leaning on the table slightly as he stared at his half-empty beer. "Ah, don' t'ink de drinks agree wit me t'night."

Steph just nodded, leaning on the booth as he sighed. "We can talk more t'morrow, we'll go t' my room den, wit dis damn curfew..." he trailed off and she was glad when he moved to the other side of the booth again, taking off his coat and rolling it up into a pillow as he laid down.

Steph drank a little more coffee, then put her feet up on the booth and slowly fell asleep, the picture still clutched tightly in her hand.