Chapter Three – The Bayville Inquisition

She came awake with a start and snarled on reflex. Danger! Flee!

No, wait. Nothing here. No movement, no peoples. Emptiness. Silence.

A fly buzzed past, settling on the tip of one ear. Flick and gone. Hum away into the light.

The light?

No, fading. Softer colours, quieter sounds. No more cars and razzing engines. No more footsteps that could find her here. Gentle lilac, creeping. Stars yet? No, but soon. Beautiful. Upworld nights so beautiful. Speckle, sparkle, scattered gems in the sky, all twinkly and staring. Like eyes. A plate of burning eyes.

She yawned, stretching her jaws wide. Still tired. Not enough sleep. So what had woken her? Her body craved rest, but her mind was alert, her hearing strained – all the indications that danger was near.

Something there? Instinctively she shrank back, blending with the refuse and shadow.

Minutes passed. There, right there! Soft burbling – one low, the other higher. Voices. Talking. At her? No, moved on from here. Passed. But still close. Too close. Dangerous.

She narrowed her eyes, staring at the light in the mouth of the alley. Nobody there, nobody to see her. But not gone. Not yet.

Briefly, she considered chasing them away. The night was her territory. There she was queen. Darkness made puny humans prey, soft and yielding. But no, it wasn't night. Not yet. Still evening, the time when they ruled this place. Her disadvantage. Best to lie low and wait for them to pass.

She waited. The voices continued. Burble, burble, like water in a brook, or through a pipe. But they didn't move on.

Go! she thought. Leave. Her tail lashed, her eyes flicked around this darkened space she'd claimed as her own. Mine.

She shifted her weight, limbs tingling and claws scratching the concrete. Slowly, inexorably she crawled forward, as if by stalking the voices she could instil in them to depart. Her movements were slow, languid, partly because of her injuries, but partly due to her inherent sense of the hunt. Muscles stretched and contorted, gliding. Her breath evened out, became long, deep breaths. Her body hugged the ground with practised ease. She stayed in the deepest recesses of shadow.

Then, suddenly, she stopped. Imperceptibly, she tilted her head. A strange scent drifted to her through the filth and decay, curling into her nostrils and twisting its way into the furrows of her mind. Familiar but foreign, it danced on the edges of her memory. She froze, trying to recover it. This recollection wasn't tinged with fear and darkness like the others, but a sense of warmth. She knew that scent...

But it was different somehow. She remembered a harsher scent where this was soft, malleable... Upworldly. The smell of easy living and good food in a full belly.

A low growl started deep in her throat. Why had it changed? What had made it this way? Could a scent so changed be trusted?

She sniffed again, closing her eyes and searching for the answer as the voices rumbled on, ignorant.

So long ago. Fractures moved aside as she pushed past, going back in time through memory. Claws snaked from her mind, voices hissed. She skinned her teeth at them.

Where could she know it? Where could it be? Hiding. But where...

Hothead?

No. Couldn't be. Lost. Dead. But the scent... it was there. So close. Ghosts didn't smell. She'd seen ghosts, had them flap about inside her head, calling and yowling. This was no ghost. This smelled warm and real, mingled with the aromas of tarmac and fumes from the street beyond. It was almost tangible.

She crept forward to the lip of the wall, then became as a statue when a car thundered the ground under her feet. It screeched to a halt.

More scents. None she knew. Dangerous. Bad. Mustn't move. Catch you if you tell them where you are. Her belly pressed flush to the ground. She shut her eyes so their glassy surface wouldn't reflect the headlights.

She wasn't afraid. Her fear had melted; but she was angry. She'd been so close, and this clinking, clanking, clunking monster had ruined it. Her nose worked quickly, picking out what she wanted amongst the chaff. Yes, still there. still warm and soft and... wrong.

Bellows followed, laughing, and the sound of grunts and squeaking metal. She wanted to make them leave. Her muscles bunched on impulse. Swipe and bleed, run screaming. That would do. Chase them away. Bad peoples. All bad.

The roar of an engine, gears crunching to her sensitive hearing. Faded, a plume of smoke, and then they were leaving. She lost the scent for a second, slipped her head around the corner to catch it again, only to see the vehicle moving away. It paused at the junction, as if waiting for something, then swung to the right and vanished.

She bounded out, heedless of the openness, and scuttled along the wall. Her nose pressed into the dirt, then lifted to the air. There! There it was again. Tantalising, fresh and oh-so-familiar. The more she concentrated on it, the more powerful it seemed. Yes, it was. No ghost – real.

Follow, she was told by a fracture. Yet she hesitated. Safe? Supposed to be dead. No death. No more. Done with that.

He'll keep you safe. He's an outcast, too.

Outcast?

Meal ticket. Way back.

How?

Explain later. Think later. Follow now. Hurry.

Hurry fast?

Hurry!

The Institute loomed large behind the gate. An imposing building in the day, it took on an eerie quality at night. Early evening highlighted both versions, fading sunlight illuminating the peaks, dusky shadows shrouding the troughs and crannies.

As the battered old jeep halted in front of the wrought iron entrance, all those inside it had the identical feeling that they weren't meant to be there. It was like a hospital during visiting time, all silence and glaring windows.

"Looks like this is my stop," said Ray, and made as if to get down.

"What's 'at, yo?" Todd indicated to the small metallic plate embedded in the left pillar of the gate.

Ray blinked at it. He knew Todd had been here before, more than once, but no visit had been made through the front gate. At least, not while it was still fixed to its hinges.

"Security panel," he said.

"You gotta input a code just to get in? Harsh."

"No, it works via a CCTV system. If the computer recognises you as having access, it'll open the gates. We used to have a palm scanner, but it was real difficult to upload new prints all the time, so Professor Xavier used a prototype intelligent system that goes by photos. Pretty simple – not that he'll let any of us try it out."

"Whoa! You mean like an AI?" Todd sounded suitably impressed, and Ray found his chest inexplicably swelling as he saw the look mirrored on most of the other Brotherhood faces – even Tabby's.

Security had been through a massive upgrade recently, ever since the Arcade infiltration disaster meant Scott and Jean destroyed a lot of the weaponry on the way in. When he looked at it, Mr. McCoy had found that it worked as a continuity network, meaning that until all damaged parts were either replaced or repaired, the entire system thought it was under attack whenever it was turned on, and went into defensive mode accordingly. They'd lost another fountain and several marble cherubim before they realised that little detail. The cost of repairing everything had eventually proved so much that the Professor decided that testing this new system was the lesser of two evils, and had it implemented as soon as possible. Thus far, it seemed to be working, too – though Logan had insisted on an auxiliary mode in case Mystique, or some other shapeshifter decided to pay them a visit. That part was still in development, though.

"Not quite that advanced, but something like that," said Ray. "No Steven Spielberg type deal, though."

"I should think not," Tabby replied, sticking out her tongue. "What a pile of steaming crap that was."

"So is it gonna let us in or what?" Fred asked.

She turned around. "It can't see his face from there. Hey, Raymond, lean out and show them your baby-blues."

"It's okay," Ray started, intending to walk up the driveway himself. The last thing he needed was earache from one of the other X-men about allowing the enemy into their camp.

However, Todd started bouncing up and down on his seat, not unlike a hyperactive child. "Yeah, go on. I wanna see how this baby works. A real AI – wow, I never thought I'd see it..."

"Todd's a real sci-fi nut," Tabby explained at Ray's blank look. "If it involves giant spacecraft and beings from another planet, you can bet he'll be glued to the TV set. Last month there was a Star Trek marathon on cable and he made us all sit through six hours of it. In Spanish. We, ah – have a little problem with our connection that makes that a side effect."

"In that it's not legal," Todd chipped in, then yelped as Fred cuffed him upside the head. "Hey!"

Tabby smirked. "I guess you can add nerd to his list of nicknames, too."

"Bite me."

"You wish."

"It's just a five minute walk," Ray insisted.

"That makes it a thirty second drive," said Lance, surprising everybody. He hadn't said a word since they started, and it was well known that he usually tried to stay as far away from the mansion as possible. That is, unless he was meeting Kitty. Even then, she came out to see him on this side of the gate so that he wouldn't have to park outside the entrance and risk a run-in with Scott – or else she met him somewhere else entirely for a little privacy.

He caught their shocked looks and shrugged. "Look, if it means I get home any faster then I'll do it."

Ray moved forward. Fred shifted aside for him to lean out and peer into the video camera's line of sight – the one hidden deep in the shining steel. The lens gleamed slightly as he hovered, twisting, and there was a flash as it scanned him. He stumbled, almost tumbling from the jeep, but Fred grabbed his shirt with the same surprising speed as before.

Ray didn't know for a second whether he was being thrown out or hauled back in. He was a little surprised not to find his nose in the dirt. After all, the opportunity had been there, and the Brotherhood was notorious for pulling stunts like that.

"Uh, thanks."

"No problem."

It took a few seconds, but an electronic beep followed, and there was a flash of green that read 'access approved – welcome Ray Crisp'. With a click and a squeak, the gates swung open.

Lance waited until Ray was sat down again before crunching into gear and driving up to the main entrance.

"Cool, yo. Just like out of a sci-fi flick. I call dibs on bein' Tom Cruise!"

Lance mumbled something. Tabby looked at him askance. He just shrugged at her, and she shook her head like a long-suffering teacher.

Nobody was around, and some small part of Ray was glad of that. He hopped over the side of the jeep and dropped to the gravel, waving to Fred and Todd as he did so. Fred returned the gesture, but Todd was busy with a fresh slice of pizza. He just nodded, eyes huge as he looked up at the mansion.

­ "Thanks for the ride. I appreciate it." Ray's mother had spent so long drumming manners into him as a child, he figured he might as well use them. The irony wasn't lost that he was probably showing more courtesy to his enemies than he did to his teammates, and a wry quirk tugged at his lips.

It quickly wiped away again when Lance waved a careless hand, not even bothering to look in his direction as he spoke. "Yeah. Whatever. Just don't expect it to happen again. And tell Kitty I said hi."

Ray might've answered, but as soon as he opened his mouth it was filled with foul tasting fumes. The jeep powered back down the driveway, and as he mounted the steps he could just see a hand waving from the front passenger seat.

He paused for a second, contemplating the overall strangeness of the past fifteen minutes. It wasn't that the Brotherhood had intimidated him, threatened his person, or done anything as violent as they were so famed for. In fact, the oddity stemmed from how crushingly normal they'd been. Almost pleasant, if that was possible.

As one of the newer X-Men, he'd never engaged them in battle before, and so had to rely on glimpses at school and stories of past fights from the originals. Around BHS they moved as a pack, typically thuggish and engaging in all the usual behaviour of bullies – flushing heads down toilets, demanding lunch money, stealing from lockers, yadda yadda yadda. After an incident involving Kurt, wet noodles, Pietro's locker, and the bone-jarring after-effects thereof, Ray had learned to avoid them where he could.

Thus it was that their being so downright affable outside school was disconcerting, to say the very least. Had they tried to pummel his kidneys, or throw him from the moving vehicle he would've been angry, but not surprised.

He watched as the gates opened automatically to allow them past. One car in, one car out. The sequence was always the same with this new system, which he was glad of, since it meant he didn't have to ask one of the adults to go into the control room and open the gates manually. If he hurried upstairs to his room now, he could say he'd walked home, thus avoiding the inevitable lecture about not bringing known enemies to their doorstep. Quick and simple. He could see about dinner later.

At least, that was his plan. It fell apart as soon as he opened the glass door and realised Scott was standing at the foot of the stairs, arms folded in a unmistakable 'I'm-not-happy' stance. His eyebrows had all but disappeared behind his shades in a deep frown, and the can of coke he'd been carrying hung unopened and forgotten in one hand.

Uh-oh.

"What," said Scott, with deliberate slowness, "were they doing here?"

Ray shrugged. Keep it light. Don't have time for a bust-up. "They gave me a ride home."

"The Brotherhood don't just hand out rides home. They always have a motive behind what they do. Always. Did they ask you any questions? Did you tell them anything?"

Ray's famous anger started to boil. He respected Scott, despite how the he sometimes took being in charge a little too seriously and let it bleed into his home life. Heck, when Scott put on his Cyclops uniform and became team leader, Ray supposed he was just as much in awe of the guy as anyone else. Scott was anal and a killjoy, but he set the standard in being an X-Man.

However, right now was not the time for Scott to try blending fearless leader with older brother persona he'd tried so hard to cultivate with the rest of his team. Ray was tired and hungry after a long, stressful day at school and detention. He didn't much care for being grilled like a criminal before he'd even got three steps through the front door.

Remembering something the Professor had said about keeping his temper in check so as not to let his powers flare up, Ray tried to ignore Scott, but the older boy made it difficult. Ray reasoned that Scott was just doing what he thought was right by the team, that he was just doing his duty. If he was in the same position, he probably would've done the same thing. After all, Scott probably knew more about the Brotherhood than he did.

But that didn't stop him from getting angrier by the second.

"Hey, Ray, don't walk away from me. You know the rules. Why didn't you make them drop you off outside the front gate?"

"They offered to drive me up here. What was I supposed to do?"

Scott's frown deepened. "Did you tell them anything about the new security system? Was that why they gave you a ride? Did they ask you about - "

"Look, they just gave me a fucking ride home!" Ray snapped, his tendency for blue language slipping out. "Why is that so difficult to understand? They weren't spying on us, they weren't trying to learn our secrets, they were just helping me out so I wouldn't have to walk it."

"The Brotherhood don't - "

"I don't care what the Brotherhood does and doesn't do. You never comment when Kitty goes out with Lance, and she's probably told him all our secrets by now. And I don't see you bitching when Kurt talks to Tabby, or Amara goes mall-crawling with her and Jean. But when I accept a favour, suddenly I'm betraying the entire team? Oh thank you very fucking much. It's nice to know you have such faith in me." He folded his arms, eyes flashing. "I'm not an idiot, Scott. I know when to clam up. The plain fact is that they didn't want anything more than to do me a favour, and no amount of digging is gonna turn up an ulterior motive. If you really must know, Lance didn't even want to drive me back here. He did it under duress. There, does that make you feel better?"

Okay, so the comments about Kitty, Kurt, Amara and Jean were a low blow, but he really didn't need this kind of confrontation right now. If Scott insisted on pushing his buttons, though, Ray wasn't going to hold back with his reaction. He'd had enough practise in life to hold his own in fights – both verbal and physical. The events and mental stresses of the day were catching up with him at last, and it was either lash out at someone or something. Unfortunately for Scott, he'd presented himself as an available target at exactly the wrong moment, and given Ray just the firepower he needed so as not to blow up another vase on his way back to his room.

Scott's expression faltered. For a second he looked almost guilty. Then he unfolded his arms and squared his shoulders. "I'm only trying to protect us. You should be doing the same."

Ray sighed and let his hands drop. He knew it wasn't fair of him to pick on Scott just because his own problems were making him tense. That didn't make it any easier to hold his tongue in check, though. "I know. Just... just leave me alone, all right? Quit playing the Spanish Inquisition. It doesn't suit you." He turned to leave.

"Don't do it again."

"Three words, Scott. Fuck and off." Ray didn't turn around, but decided that scuttling off to his room like a sneak thief wasn't needed anymore. He'd been discovered and chewed out already, so he trundled towards the kitchen in the hopes Ororo had kept some dinner aside.

"You know," Lance said after several minutes of stoic silence, "I actually feel a little sorry for that guy."

Todd and Fred glanced up, and Tabby shot him a sideways look. "Dare I ask why?"

"If you don't know, then I'm not gonna tell you."

She rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to smack the back of his head, for fear it would sent them careening off the road. "If you're talking about the welcome wagon, then I saw it too, so stop trying to be clever. It doesn't suit you."

"What welcome wagon?" Todd, having been ordered to leave the rest of the pizzas alone, hopped forward and leaned between the two front seats. Lance started, not expecting his sudden appearance.

"God dammit, Todd." He swatted with the back of his hand. "You're gonna make me have an accident one of these days. Siddown."

However, Todd was nothing if not persistent. "What welcome wagon?"

"Sit down! If we have an accident and die, I'll kill you!"

Grumbling, Todd flopped backwards.

Tabby half-swivelled to speak to both him and Fred. "Scooter-boy was waiting for Ray inside, and boy howdy, did he look pissed."

"Probably just lying in wait to tear strips off him," Lance said dryly, slowing the jeep and signalling to turn off the main raod. The street they turned into was narrow, and lit by a single watery streetlamp. "After all, he's not meant to be consorting with the enemy. None of them are. Brotherhood bad, X-Men good." He adopted a bleating voice, not unlike a sheep, and then rolled his eyes when none of the other three got the reference. "Forget it. It's not important."

"Why do I get the impression you're talking more about your little Pretty Kitty than Ray?"

"Whatever gave you that idea?"

"The glaring sarcasm for one. You could poke someone's eyes out with that stuff." Tabby fiddled with the fraying edge of her seatbelt and stared out into the night.

The evening had darkened into a deep, velvety blue, but a mass of greyish clouds swelled overhead. They'd been threatening at the far edges of the skyline all day, but now moved in like some nebulous predator, replacing the serenity with a turbulence that could mean only one thing.

"Looks like rain," said Fred. He eyed the remaining pizza boxes with a sigh. "Are we there yet? I don't like cold pizza, and I definitely don't like cold soggy pizza."

"Looks like more than rain, yo." Todd peered upwards and rocking a little to one side. "Looks like that storm they promised on the weather channel this mornin'."

At that, Lance snorted loudly. "Who'd a' thunk it? A weather man actually got the weather right."

"Stranger things've happened, yo."

Fred sighed and sat on his hands, as if by doing so he could make them stay away from the tantalising pizzas. They'd been placed on the floor of the jeep, on top of Lance's jacket to keep them out of the dirt and thick, greenish grime – although, once again, he didn't know about this misuse of his clothing. Fred sniffed, looking about for something else to focus on, and finally came to rest on the back of Tabby's head – which wasn't difficult, considering she was sitting right in front of him.

"So, Tabby, what do you see in the guy?"

Tabby's hand materialised above her head. When they passed under a streetlight it illuminated a one-fingered salute.

"What?"

"I told you before, Ray wasn't my date. He's just a friend. My date was that guy with the squint from Mr. Istanov's chemistry class."

"That guy? Eew," said Todd.

"Sure, right. You couldn't 'just be friends' with a guy if your life depended on it," Lance sniped.

"I dunno," said Fred. "I mean, we're friends, and she ain't been out with any of us. Except to the school dance, and that don't really count since it was only because Todd and I couldn't get no real dates..." He trailed off. "That sounded a lot better inside my head."

"Should've asked Pietro to share, yo," said Todd. "More than enough to go around in his corner." A large bulb of rain abruptly hit him in the eye, and he squealed. "Ahh! Get it off! Get it off!"

"What? What?" Lance demanded. The jeep swerved a little at the sudden noise. "What?!"

"Nothing," said Fred. "But the rain's starting."

"Crap." The jeep speeded up. Without a roof, they'd been rained on plenty of times in the past, and always with the same result – that of a sodden, grouchy Brotherhood and a jeep that smelled like wet Todd for a fortnight afterwards. Not pleasant. Not pleasant at all.

"I'm blind! It's acid, I tell ya! Acid!" Todd shrieked, only partly joking. He wiped at his face.

"It's the most water that's touched your skin in the last six months," Tabby smirked, until a raindrop slapped her in the forehead and ran into her left eye. It smudged the kohl and made her look like a one-eyed panda bear in the poor light. "Aw, hell!"

"I told ya! It's acid!"

"You've got acid on the brain," she snapped, rummaging around in the side pocket for a tissue.

Todd paused, hands dropping away from his afflicted eye. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Figure it out."

"But you... yeah, well, at least I don't have a Geek-squadder on the brain." He nodded, triumphant at his comeback, until Lance shot a dangerous look. "Not that that's a bad thing, of course. Love thine enemy and all that crap – uh, stuff. All mutants should be friends and lovers, uh... yeah..."

"Back-peddle a little more, Todd," Fred grinned. "I can almost smell the rubber burning."

"Piss off."

"Make me."

"Both of you shut up." Tabby dabbed at her eye, but the jeep chose that moment to turn onto the dirt track that led up to the Boarding House. The track was covered in rough, shoddy stones. One of the front wheels hit a rock and jolted, making her poke herself in the eyeball. "Ow! Shit, that hurt!"

"In the absence of your dork buddy, I could kiss it better," Todd offered waspishly, taking the opportunity to change the subject. His tongue snaked between the front seats and waggled suggestively.

"In your dreams, frog-breath. And would you quit saying that about Ray. He's just a friend. What is it with people today that a boy and girl can't just be friends without suddenly being a couple?"

Fred rumbled, "As the wise man once said; men and women have tried to be friends, but the sex thing just keeps getting in the way."

"Wise man my ass! That's Ally McBeal and you know it!"

The jeep stopped under the overhang of the porch, and Lance jerked up the hand-brake with something approaching outright savagery. "I can deal with cussing," he said, in a low voice that would've been very threatening had he not been trying so hard not to smile, "and I can deal with you pissing each other off. Hell, I can even deal with outbreaks of violence, so long as I'm not caught in the firing line. But I will not – repeat, not – have Ally McBeal in my jeep. Out, all of you."

"Yes!" Fred punched the air, scooped up the pizza boxes and thundered out, stopping only long enough to unlock the door with the spare key they kept hidden under the welcome mat. "Food at last!"

Not so long ago, Kitty had taken it upon herself to provide them with locks and catches for all the doors out of her own allowance money. Lance hadn't had the heart to tell her that they usually didn't bother locking the place up because there was nothing worth stealing inside. Well, unless you counted the abundance of clothes in Pietro's room, but he had his own lock on his door, so that hardly counted. Still, it'd been a nice enough thought, and though they didn't voice it, they all appreciated the gesture.

Todd was seconds after Fred, hopping as fast as his legs could take him. "Hey, Blubber-boy, leave some for me, yo."

"If there's no pizza left by the time I get inside, you two will become greasy spots on the floor," Lance called after them. He cut the engine and hopped out, searching for the plastic sheeting he used to keep the jeep dry in bad weather.

Tabby clambered down from the passenger side and sauntered into the house, smiling wickedly as the his cussing when he discovered his jacket.

­­­­­

To Be Continued...

Review Responses:

SperryDee - Done and done, Sperry. Here's some more Ray style goodness for you.

Angel of the Fallen Stars – Judgment Day pretty much depends on interest from other writers, plus inclination to actually finish it. And right now, there just doesn't seem to be that inclination from anyone. Le sigh. Until then, I'm hoping just to concentrate on other stories. My one-shot counter has gone up since JD finished, which I'm pleased with, and I'm managing to wangle my way into other fandoms, too.

Ivan Alias – Quick question: are you Yodelbean? Because you sound (insofar as text can sound) a lot like him. Bourne Supremacy! I want to see that, but I've given up going to the cinema. I can't support that habit and my comics as well. Crub nuckets.