Back on Schedule

Jazz grinned, "Fireworks, what fireworks?"

Psyc tried to sit up but found it was more difficult then she remember, so she laid back down.

"Are you telling me you managed to get us out without a fight scene?"

"No," Jazz said, "Remy nearly blew the entire building up."

Psyc laughed, "See, fireworks!" and was promptly 'attacked' by Sherry who decided to throw herself on Psyc.

"I'm alright Sherry!" Psyc said, "I'm just having problems getting my legs to respond."

"Don' worry," the woman standing over her said, "dat'll on'y be a prob'm fo' a few day."

Then she grinned and said, "Now I tink I'll 'ave Henri take m' 'ome."

Remy got up and hugged her, "Merci, 'gain, tante."

The woman left and it was just the four of them.

"Sherry," Psyc said, "You have to get off of me so we can go back to the house."

With Jazz and Remy's help Psyc managed to get to her feet.

She looked down and laughed, "Haven't I seen that blanket before?

Psyc watched as the last cars pulled away. Now all but one of the children were gone, some would be coming back, others would not. Psyc looked at the only child left, a little girl with red hair, cut to just above her ear lobes and wide innocent chocolate brown eyes, her skin was fair with freckles dotting her nose. Sarah was only seven, and both her parents had been killed trying to protect her from the F.O.H.

At least she won't end up on the street like I did, Psyc thought.

I would like to see you all in the library please, the professor's voice rang through their minds.

When everyone had arrived, the prof. spoke, "I know the past week has been slightly strange, but I would like us to get back on schedule, and in order for us to do that I need Jasmin to release control of the computer system to me."

For the first time Psyc could remember, Sarah spoke.

"You mean she took control of the entire system? This place is wired so tight you can tell when a single blade of grass is bent and she took complete control of it?"

Everybody stared at her.

"Sorry," she said, "I can talk to computers, at least that's as good an explanation as I can give for it."

Jazz was the first one to regain her composure.

"Yeah, I did," she said, "its not that hard, you just…"

Jazz and Sarah were soon lost in technical talk about computers. The prof. sighed and released them all to do whatever.

Psyc and Jazz went out on the grounds. Jazz drew a circle on the ground with a 15' diameter. The two friends stepped inside and bowed to each other, then took fighting stances.

They circled each other always watching for an opening. Jazz moved first, she aimed a kick to Psyc's stomach that would've taken her out if she hadn't blocked. Psyc grabbed Jazzes foot as she kicked and brought it up. While turning, Jazz flipped and landed on her back. The two girls laughed and Psyc held her hand out to help Jazz up.

"When did you learn that trick?" Jazz asked.

"To tell you the truth," Psyc confessed, "I wasn't sure it would work."

"Feel up for round two?"

"Always."

This time the fight lasted fifteen minutes, the two girls were nothing but a whirlwind of flying fists and feet. The fight finally ended with Jazz pinning Psyc on the ground, her forearm across Psyc's throat. The sound of applause made them get up, as they had fought the teams had gathered to watch.

"Well," Scott said, "I think we found our new hand-to-hand instructors."

The next two weeks established a routine. In the morning, they had Danger room practice (except Sherry, Sarah and Kitty who would not be allowed in the field), after breakfast they had "school" and after lunch they had hand-to-hand training. It was during one of these lessons that they had an unexpected visitor.

Psyc was walking around correcting fighting stances when she noticed Logan was talking to someone, a very failure someone. She motioned for Jazz to take over and walked toward them.

"No," she said, raising her voice so Logan and his friend could hear her, "I don't know what you thing you're doing her, Uncle Nick, but no, go away, I'm not gonna let you try and drag us into S.H.I.E.L.D. business!"

Logan looked from Nick Fury to Psyc and back again.

"Uncle?" he asked. "Since when do you have siblings?"

"I don't," Fury answered, "I have no clue what she's talking about."

"Great!" Psyc exclaimed. "I trained beside the man for almost ten years and he doesn't remember!"

"Psyc, calm down," Logan told her.

"Ten years or running courses and learning to track."

"Larla," Logan yelled, "calm down!"

Psyc rounded on him, eyes blazing.

"Don't use my given name."

"Wait a minute," Fury said, "Larla? Larla-Rose?"

"He's a regular Einstein, isn't he?" she asked, sarcastically. "Now go away."

Logan turned to Psyc, "Kid, mind clarifying what you're sayin'?"

"What's there to clarify?" she asked. "I'm telling, not asking, telling Nick Fury, Jack Datarazanoff's best friend, to go away."

Logan looked slightly shocked then grinned, "So that's what you meant when you said you worked with people better trained than the S.E.A.L.s," he took on a more serious demeanor, "now go back to teaching your lesson."

Psyc thought about being stubborn and staying until she saw Fury leave, instead she went back to her class.

As she walked away, she heard Logan say, "Sorry about that, she's…"

"Head-strong?" Fury supplied. "She always was, but she would have made one hell of a soldier."

Right, Psyc thought, me a soldier. Not only does S.H.I.E.L.D. not let women join, but I could never go back there.

When she got back to the class she said, "Okay, everyone pair up. It's time to see who learned more this week."

As they teamed up, Jazz asked, "Do you still need me? I'm supposed to completely remove my influence on the system today."

"Sure, go ahead," Psyc said.

Once pairs had been made, Psyc found out that there were an odd number of students. The person left was Remy.

"Okay," she said, "here's how it works. 1. You do not pull your punches. 2. The fight is over when, A. one person can no longer fight, or B. one person signals defeat. 3. When all fights are done the winners will pair up and it starts over. Gambit, you have the misfortune of being paired with me the first round. Oh, one last thing, there will be no powers and no weapons. Begin."

All pairs stepped into the fight circles and the fights were on. No one noticed the two figures watching the scene.

"Maybe we trained her too well," Fury muttered, watching Psyc train the other students.

"How long did you actually?" Logan asked, assuming he knew what Fury meant.

"Eight months," Fury said simply.

"What are you here for?" Logan asked. "I know it wasn't just for a social call."

"We need information on Magneto and you're the only one who ca get it."

"Sorry, bub, but ol' buckethead would never let me in, I've been there already. He knows our team, so there's not much we can do to help."

Logan turned to walk away.

"What about Larla-Rose?" Fury asked. "Does he know about her?"

Logan turned back to face him.

"Would you really sink that low?" Logan demanded. "Would you really send your best friend's daughter into the snake pit knowing that if he catches her she's dead?"

Fury met Logan stare for stare, "If that's what it takes to get the information we need, yes, I am."

Logan stared in silence for a few more minutes, then growled, "Get out. Stay away from Psyc."

Fury about-faced and walked off the grounds.

I still better keep my eye out for him, Logan thought and turned to watch the class.

He grinned slightly at the sight. All but one of the fights had ended during his conversation with Nick. Psyc and Gambit were still going at it.

Either he knows more then he said, or she's holding back.

He had to admit it was quite a sight. They had been fighting for about five minutes and neither of them seemed to be tiring. Finally Psyc tried a roundhouse kick, and the Cajun dropped and swiped his leg across the ground, knocking her feet out from under her.

Psyc hit the ground and Remy pinned her arms over her head with his hands and her legs with his knees.

Psyc looked up at him and asked, "Where did you learn that? I know we haven't taught it yet."

Remy moved and helped her to her feet, "Remy mighta pr'fere' de Bo-Staff, bu' 'e di' learn a bi' o' hand-t'-hand from Henri."

"Looks like it's gonna be loads of fun when we move on to weapons," she commented grinning, "now winners, pair up."

Remy turned to find himself facing Storm and thought for the zillionth time, Remy swear 'e see dat face 'for de ally.

Then the fight started and he couldn't think.

Psyc lay awake in bed waiting for Jazz to fall asleep. She didn't think Jazz would stop her, but at the same time didn't want Jazz to go with. Finally she got up. She slipped silently out the door and made her way to the Danger Room. She slipped onto the control room and sat behind the control panel.

Jazz may be the computer genius, but I know enough to do this, she thought.

For the next two hours, she sat behind the controls, her fingers flying over the keys. When she was done, she added a note to Sarah.

All it said was, "Shhhh!" with the equivalent of a wink and a grin so she wouldn't tell anyone what Psyc had done.

Then she stood up and said, "Computer loop the scene in the Danger Room now, and do not return to active taping until I say to."

The loop started and Psyc entered the Danger Room.

She stood in the center of the room and called, "Computer, activate program, 'Last Days'. Activation code: R-P-G-S-S."

The air shimmered for a second, then solidified. Psyc flung her arms wide and spun around in a circle grinning. It was New Orleans in the height of one of it' many festivals. She didn't know which one, but it was what had brought her and her parents to the city seven years ago. Psyc grinned at the memory.

Her dad had come home with a big grin and said, "It's official, I'm free for the next two weeks." Then he pulled out three airline tickets and said, "And we're going to spend it in New Orleans. The festival starts in two days, so… go pack L.R., the plane leaves in one and a half hours."

Psyc had run and hugged him, then dashed up the stairs to pack. In the Danger Room, Psyc pushed away the ugly part of the trip and slipped into the crowd. After seven years, every sight was like the first time, and the Danger Room was advanced enough to the point that everything seemed real. Finally she called a halt to the program and went back into the control room.

"Computer," she called, "hide all signs of program 'Last Days' and return to normal surveillance."

She slipped back to her room and went to sleep.

Remy woke up to the sound of his combination alarm clock/radio.

's February 15th, he thought, Remy been 'ere fo' almos' t'ree months, an' 'e still don' like getting' up s' early.

He rolled out of bed and got dressed.

A' leas' dere no classes t'day.

Then he went down to breakfast.

"Le' Remy guess," he said when he got there and Psyc wasn't there, "she still sleepin'."

"Yep!" Sherry said brightly and handed him a mug of coffee.

"Merci, Chèrie," he said with a grin and took the cup.

"She's been doing this for two weeks," Jazz said. "What's up? She can't be that tired!"

"Remy don' blame 'er fo' sleepin' in, bu' she miss breakfas' e'ery time," Remy said, grabbing a plate to go with the coffee.

He noticed Sarah was looking down at her plate with a huge grin. He was about to ask why when the professor's voice sounded in their minds.

All students report to the Danger Room.

"O' course 'e woul' do dis on our day off, non?"

Sherry giggled.

"Have fun!" Sarah called.

Psyc nearly jumped out of bed when Xavier's voice boomed in her head.

"Danger Room?" she muttered. "Why the Danger Room?"

She threw on her uniform and went downstairs. She joined the others and covered a yawn.

"You are probably all wondering why I called you here," the prof. said. "The reason is we will soon be starting training in stealth and tracking. Today's exercise will help us gauge your skill level in these two areas. You will be playing a variation of hide and go seek. One at a time you will chose a location. You will have a thirty-second head start, then five minutes to avoid the others. After the five minutes are up, or you get caught, we will move on to the next person. Logan, you are excluded from this."

The prof. went into the observation room with Logan and the rest of the students went into the Danger Room.

Logan's voice came over the intercom, "Alright, Psyc, you're up, let's see what you know."

Psyc stepped forward and a wall appeared behind her.

"Computer," she called, "activate program 'Last Days', activation code, R-P-J-S-S."

The program started and she fades into the crowd. As she passed the various bead, hat and mast stands, she grabbed various items and put them on, making her blend in more completely.

The wall in front of them dropped and the teams stalled.

"Since whe' does de Danger room 'ave N'awlins durin' Marti Gras?" Remy asked.

"It didn't," Scott said. "C'mon, let's find her. The clock's ticking."

As everyone took off, Remy grabbed Jazzes arm and held her back.

"What are you doing!" she demanded. "We have to find Psyc."

"Oui, bu' yo' gonna follow dem, o' Remy who grew up in dis city?"

"Good point," Jazz relpied.

Remy started forward, "Jus' look fo' som'one dat don' fit in, dat's no' as colorful."

Noticing how interactive the program was, Remy decided to tak a gamble, he walked up to the nearest vender and said, "Bonjour, mon ami, di' yo' see a belle femme go by 'ere?"

The man behind the counter laughed.

"I see alotta girls dat fit dat description t'day."

"Oui," Remy said, "bu' dis one was dressed in skin tigh' black clothes, like de ones ma ami's wearin'," and he pointed to Jazz and the man nodded.

"Oui, de femme wen' dat way, an' she wa' buyin' tings t' fit in."

"Merci, Misure," Remy said and went in the direction indicated. As they walked, Remy asked Jazz, "Di' yo' do dis?"

"No," Jazz said, shaking her head.

"Den who?" he asked.

"Probably Psyc," Jazz said, "I may be a hack expert, but there aren't exactly blocks for the main computer. She has plenty of experience to write a program like this, especially with a computer like that, it will practically walk you through the process and just a verbal command will have it hidden from anyone but Sarah."

"Bu' why woul' sh' d' it? Why make something like dis?" Remy asked.

"Ask her, not me," Jazz answered. "Even if I did know, it's not my place to tell."

"At leas' we know why she been so tired, la'ely." Remy said. "She pro'ly been runnin' dis program e'ery nigh'."

"You're probably right," Jazz agreed.

Then she spotted someone who didn't quite fit in. It wasn't anything big, but she didn't thing combat boots were very common in a place like this. She grabbed Remy's arm to make him stop.

"I think I found her," she said quietly.

Remy turned and smiled. Psyc would have fit in perfectly at an actual festival, but in the simulation there were just a few things that gave her away. The clothes didn't look as well thought out, and her long hair was in a simple braid, not done up in a creative manner.

"D' yo' wan' t' 'tag' 'er or d' yo' wan' Remy t'?"

"You go ahead," Jazz said. "I don't want to be the one to ruin her fun."

Remy walked up behind Psyc and whispered, "Tag, yo' it."

The prof's voice came over the intercom, "End program."

The scene faded and the rest of the teams were startled to find that none of them were more then fifteen feet away, yet they hadn't seen her.

"How did you find me?" Psyc demanded.

Remy laughed.

"Yo' made dem all too perfect, chèrie. None o' dem wearin' a costume dat wa' t'rown t'geder, like yo's wa'."

Please reveiw. Any comments welcome.