Mr. Mildred Watts smiled as he rounded the walls of the great, stone, spiraling stairway. It was a white stone, something like slate and it seemed to descend for a half a mile before opening in to a room full of robed figures.

The robes were gold with blue trim, and hooded. The figures within the robes were of varying heights and sizes, from the oddly small to the frighteningly large. Although most were right around human sized.

They all seemed to have been waiting for him.

"PRESENT THE ITEM!" A voice from nowhere boomed.

And Mildred reached in to his pocket and drew out a small metal cigarette case. He pushed the button to open it and then drew out a single glass slide, wrapped in silk.

"DO NOT TOUCH THE ITEM!" The voice warned.

He opened the silk handkerchief to cover his hand and he watched as the slide rose in to the air and began to float away, obviously under the control of some telekinetic member of the group.

The slide found it's way across the room and on to a great projection microscope that projected the results on to the wall Mildred stood in front of, just over his head.

One by one, genetic readouts appeared on the projection, followed by gasps and exclamations of nervous anticipation.

And each new readout that appeared would cast yet another colored light across Mildred's face as he stood there… Bored and checking his watch.

And then, his face was cast in green and the room's tension broke with a collective gasp.

"Y-You…" The great psychic voice was hushed now, but still the same. "You claim to know the location … of The Heir?"

Mildred nodded, holding up a folded slip of paper, sporting a serene little smile as though grateful that they were all caught up now.

Mildred waited patiently while the telekinetic took this as his cue to retrieve the paper.

"If this new information proves true…" The psychic voice continued. "Then you will be forever remembered and honored by The Aristocracy."

Several murmured their agreement.

How nice. Mildred thought.

And when they lowered their heads to look upon the lighthouse's address, Mildred slipped back out the way he had come in.

When they looked up, he was gone.

"Brethren!" One of the robed figures called out. "Soon our leader shall be restored!"

And a great and wicked cheer went up throughout the room.

Mildred heard it echo up the stairway as he climbed his way back out, and allowed himself a tiny smile. It was a rare treat for him to make so many utter lunatics so incredibly happy.

And… He reminded himself. It's not every day that one becomes a mysterious central character in the emergence of a new religion, now is it?

So, quite pleased with himself and his accomplishments for the day, he decided that as soon as he got home… He would have a nice, long … nap.

Alistaire stepped out of his car slowly. He had intentionally parked a good 30 feet from the lighthouse or any form of cover shat so ever.

He stepped out and slammed the door behind him, casting his eyes around the area. Slowly he swept over the surroundings from left to right, until he ran out of ground and found only ocean, and when he finally relaxed and looked back towards the lighthouse…

"Ahh!" He jumped.

Lucy smiled at him. He should be used to this by now. She reasoned.

She had somehow managed to sneak up, silently to less than a foot away, with no cover.

She extended her hand, palm up with the fingers together.

"Oh, for heavens sake." Alistaire rolled his eyes and fished out her paycheck.

"I love Fridays." She laughed.

"I know." He smiled, handing her the check.

"Oh, Kurt's orders – You and Forge are supposed to train together now that I've taught Forge how to fight."

Alistaire swallowed. "O… kay?" He shrugged.

She laughed and spun around, almost skipping away.

Wow. Alistaire thought. I didn't even see her put her check away! He shook his head. It's like a magic trick. I hold it out and it disappears. Poof!

Alistaire turned towards the lighthouse and started up the path. Forge came sauntering down and Alistaire lost all pretense. "Oh my God, what happened to your face?"

Forge laughed. "It graduated Lucy's fighters training program." He said proudly.

"She said… we're to… Ummm…"

Forge laughed. "Yeah, Kurt wants me to teach you. Lucy wants me to keep fighting and stay sharp."

"Will I have to look like that to graduate your class?" Alistaire shook his head as he spoke.

"Probably not. Depends on how big the bet is."

"What?" Alistaire shook his head some more.

"Never mind." Forge told him. "Kurt's in his study. " Bathroom…

"Ah, I'd better get up there." Alistaire smiled and headed further up the path. …on how big the bet is? Did he really just say that? What does it mean?

A moment later Alistaire drifted up the stairs and Wilson's eyes fluttered open.

"Ahhh.." Alistaire looked at his quizzically. "Ummm…Kurt…"

"In the kitchen." Wilson nodded in the direction.

"Ahh."

And Wilson lowered both his head and his eyes as he began to drift back off to sleep.

Alistaire watched him drop off slowly. Helpful chap, isn't he? He smiled and turned off to find Kurt.

"Paychecks." Alistaire whispered as he rounded the corner in to the kitchen with the envelopes held high.

One by one he distributed them to their eager owners. I'll have to slip Forge's under his door… Again.

"Betsy and Brian are on the deck." Kurt waved. "Just be quiet, the guy on the couch is trying to sleep."

"Yeah, what's his story?" Alistaire looked around the sea of blank faces.

"You know what we do." Kurt shrugged.

"Hunh. Fancy that." Alistaire shrugged and ducked out the door, headed for the deck.

He slipped out with the envelopes held high.

Both Betsy and Brian smiled as they saw him coming.

"Who is the guy on the couch?" Alistaire asked.

Betsy smiled. "That's Captain Britain's first victory in the making." She teased.

Brain shook his head. "That's Wilson. He's a mutant who needs help. He walked up today. His powers function when he's sleeping so he's trying to test them out."

"But don't help him, he's Brian's case." She smiled. "We have a bet."

"Aaaahhh, I see." He said. "Oh, and Betsy, I've fielded a question… I hope it isn't too personal…"

"What is it?" She asked.

"How exactly are you and Brian related?"

She cocked her head. "What?"

"Well, you're rather... Asian looking and he's … well … not." Alistaire shrugged.

Brian cast his eyes down for a long moment.

Betsy managed a weak smile. "Oh, yeah. I … forget… sometimes… " She looked away. Well, sooner or later… She swallowed, just to delay answering. "Ummm… Can I take my time… Maybe… pick my words carefully… Because it's … complicated."

Alistaire nodded in sympathetic understanding. "Oh, no problem, but… in all honesty, this isn't the first time I've heard the issue raised. It's just never been asked of me before. And it could come up again. We are in a bit of a spotlight here…" He paused. "If there's anything I can do … I … would." He volunteered.

Brian smiled. Betsy did too, in quiet understanding. "Thanks, just… let me get it strait in my mind… before I try to explain it."

"Sure." Alistaire replied, slipping back in to the house, he passed a small, purple 'stuffed animal' dragon that was sitting on the back of the couch, staring down at Wilson.

Alistaire shook his head and laughed. Was that there earlier? He wondered, and then he slipped up the hall toward the kitchen.