Authoress's notes: thank you to MacmuffL and Lamby, who reviewed the first chapter. Here's chapter 2 for you!

MacmuffL – you get a cookie for being my first reviewer! ::hands you cookie:: Be careful with it, though ... you can never quite know what I've put in there. Even I don't know for sure. ;)

Lamby – I'm glad you think Amanda's cool, and I'm very flattered that you like my writing style. That's always nice to hear. I'm really really sorry, but it seems like there are just too many stories! You and Corrinth, I understand, are working on one big timeline, and I'd hate to mess it up by reading the stories in the wrong order or something ... and trust me ... I can do that ... .

Chapter 2: Memory Lane.

Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.

The title stared at her from where she'd tacked the small white card up on her tiny notice board in her kitchenette.

Gifted youngsters...

But that wasn't true... it was a school for mutants... and her only hope. She needed to figure herself out. This Xavier... could he help her?

Amanda jumped when a knock sounded at her door. She picked up her coffee mug and went to the door, curious. Who would knock on her door at – she checked her watch – eleven AM on a Wednesday morning?

Cautiously, she opened the door a fraction of an inch and looked out. She saw nobody. Then –

"Hello."

Amanda did a double take, then directed her sight downwards a bit. The man, seemingly in his early-forties but completely bald, sat in a motorized wheelchair -- an extremely odd sight in the old, dusty, dingy hallway of her apartment's building, especially in his expensive-looking suit.

She blinked. "Hello," she replied, one eyebrow raised.

The man smiled. "Good morning. My name is Cha–"

"Let me guess. Professor Charles Xavier." She opened the door wider, stepping aside to let him wheel in. "I didn't even give Scott my name; I wasn't quite expecting any visitors so soon ... you'll have to excuse the mess. Coffee?"

Xavier chuckled. "Outgoing, are we? Coffee would be nice, thank you." He accepted the chipped mug with amusement. "Scott tells me he met an intriguing young barwoman last night, who admitted quite casually that she might be a mutant. Might that be you, by any chance, Miss Norron?"

Amanda took a sip of her coffee, ignoring its rather cheap taste – it was only the caffeine she craved in the mornings. "Yes, I suppose I could qualify for said woman." She grinned. "I do work at a bar, and I do remember a certain young man by the name of Scott saying something about mutants ... but drinks can do that to a girl." She raised her mug of coffee and winked. "Why do you ask?"

Xavier steepled his fingers. "I posses a machine called Cerebro, Miss Norron. Cerebro allows me to locate and contact mutants around the world. I notice you're not entirely sure what gifts you posses." He gave her a piercing look. "Perhaps I could be of some assistance."

Amanda sat on the arm of the old couch in the area she would have liked to call her living room; actually, it was merely a tiny room, practically a hallway, that connected her kitchenette, bedroom, and bathroom. She looked at Xavier, a hard, calculating look. "How?"

"I posses telepathic gifts. I can read minds up to a certain level that might be enough to unlock a few mysteries ... if you are interested, of course. I shall not force you into anything."

Amanda considered, then nodded. "Don't snoop around, though." She raised a finger. "There are some drawers I'd rather keep locked."

He nodded. "Of course. Rest assured, I shall respect your privacy."

"Good." She slid down onto the couch itself, laying her coffee mug on the small table. "What do I have to do?"

"Just sit still." He rolled closer to her and placed his hands over her temples, millimeters away from her face. "Close your eyes, if you wish. This might feel a bit odd."

It was indeed the oddest sensation. Like watching someone read a book -- but actually, she could feel that Xavier was riffling, rather than really reading. As though each and every memory, feeling, sensation and thought had been turned into files, and he was simply searching for the right title, finally selecting one dating a bit over three and a half years ago.

-

"Manda... I was thinking..."

Amanda took a sip of her sweet-potato soup. She had a fetish for sweet-potatoes. And soup, for that matter. The combination was wonderful. "Hmm?"

"Uuuh..."

"Gabby, are you okay? You seem a bit..." she eyed her boyfriend of two years thoughtfully, "pale," she concluded. "Is anything the matter?"

He shook his head. "No – everything's fine. Wonderful, in fact. But everything would be even better if..."

"If...?"

Amanda's eyes widened as Gabriel set his fork down and pushed his chair back, reaching into his pants pocket as he kneeled in front of her.

"If you'll be my wife..."

"Oh."

Gabriel bit his lip. "I –"

"Oh, Gabby, of course I will!" Amanda dropped to the marble floor in front of him, embracing him firmly and kissing him, hard. She pulled back and giggled a bit. "I was thinking you'd never ask..."

Gabby gave her a sly grin and slipped the ring onto her finger. It was a white-gold ring, thin, with a tiny blue-white diamond in its center. It was beautiful. But not as much as her, Gabby thought. He smoothed her brown hair back from her face, wiping away the tiny tear that had appeared on her cheek.

The pair of them jumped as a loud POP was heard; they turned to find a waiter with a bottle of champagne in his hand, the foam already running down the side. Two tall glasses were held in his other hand. "On the house," he said as he put the glasses on their table and poured the sparkling wine into them. "For the happy couple."

Amanda and Gabriel beamed at each other as half the restaurant applauded...

-

"Gabby! –"

Another, different file was selected, this one dating later than the last.

-

"So? What do you think?"

Amanda looked around. "It's certainly very large... Can we afford this place, Gabby?"

"Sure we can." He took her hands and held them to his heart. "Anything for my wife."

"Future wife, Gabby, and this isn't a fairytale... I don't want to be kicked out halfway into our wedding plans. Tell me truthfully. Do we have enough for this?"

Gabriel eyed his fiancé and sighed. "I suppose we could get one of the cheaper studio apartments..."

"Perfect. I will not have you pay rent all the time. This is going to be our apartment, and we're going to pay for it fifty-fifty."

"All right then." Gabby kissed his fiancé. "Whatever you say, love."

-

"Gabby! –"

This time, the file date was exactly three years ago. That day...

-

"Gabby?"

"Manda! Hi, love. How was the interview?"

"Eh. Not too bad. I'm expecting a call by day-after-tomorrow. How was the office? Any interesting cases?"

"Nah. Home is interesting." He kissed his fiancé. "And much more enjoyable."

She smacked him lightly on the side of the head. "Business before pleasure. As of now, I'm starving. Anything left from the Chinese?" she rummaged through the refrigerator.

"Nah," replied Gabriel. "I think we threw it out last night." He came up behind her and encircled her in his arms, breathing in the smell of her shampoo. "I love you," he murmured.

Amanda smiled into the fridge. "I love you too, Gabby, but my stomach will allow no feelings until it is full. I need food!"

"All right, all right. I can take a hint. 'Specially since I'm the one who finished off the Chinese..."

"What?! Oh, you are so dead –" she chased her fiancé around the couch in the living room, hurtling pillows after him. "How – dare – you?!" He laughed as she continued her fit over her favorite take-out. Then his foot caught on the carpet, and as another pillow struck his head, he tripped. Landing with a loud thump on the floor, he stated, "Ouch."

Then he clutched his head, screaming in pain. Amanda rushed to his side, starting to ask what was wrong – she didn't think he'd hit the floor that hard – when a searing pain tore through her head. Her eyes rolled in her head – pain spread through her body – was Gabby ok?

– pain –

– Gabby! –

– What is going on here?! –

– As tough her mind was being ripped apart –

– just pain –

And then... silence. The most awful sound she had heard in years. Such a horrific silence that her ears hurt.

"G – Gabby?"

Her voice was shaky. She reached out blindly, still too frightened to open her eyes. Her hand felt across the carpet and found her fiancé's. "G-Gabby..." The hand was warm, but still. She opened her eyes...

Gabriel was sprawled on the carpet, face down. He wasn't moving. A bubble of panic formed in her throat. He wasn't... he couldn't be...

"Gabby! Gabby?"

He was.

"GABBY!!"

-

-

"Stop!!"

Authoress's note: hehehe, cliffhanger… tell me what you think. All you have to do is press that nice little purple button that says GO and write down what you think in the nice little window that pops up. Can you do that? Because if you can't then I can't post another chapter… ::cackles evilly::