Disclaimer: Not making any money from this

A/N: With regards to the Rogue thing, itskinda complicated. Because Corrinth and I write to a shared timeline that isn't developing in any kind of order, Rogue's exit and eventual return have already been scripted. The result is I'm not in any position to use herin this particular set of stories. I have used her in other fics,here andthere.I guess if enough people wereto, say leave a review and challenge me to do it, I wouldn't be averse to trying to write a short Rogue-centric piece that ran parallel to the Shades series? Its really up toyou. If you'd like me to have a go, let me know. I've written fic for my reviewers before, its nice to write something on demand!

Knife in the Dark: Scene 04

"Nice car." Blaze offered politely, trying to make conversation as she and Stifle left the airport. The black Mini Cooper S was all shiny and new, with silver go-faster stripes on the bonnet and a silver Union Jack roof. The alloy wheels were the X-logo.

"Its yours, for as long as you're here." Stifle told her bluntly. "Xavier gave me instructions when he told me he'd send someone. There's an apartment in a block offDeansgate as well. I use it when I'm up this way, but you'll have more need of it than I will for now."

"I take it the Professor didn't tell you exactly who he was sending?" Blaze pried as the two women got into the car and fastened their seatbelts. Stifle was driving despite her just saying the car was for Blaze. "Why do I get the feeling you're a little disappointed?"

"Because I know what you're up against," Stifle snapped. "I wanted an X-Man, not a school teacher. These kids wont respond to reason…"

"So you want them whipping into shape?" Blaze argued hotly. "Or putting out of their misery?"

"Look, do you want taking to the apartment or what?" Stifle returned stubbornly.

"Take me to where the kids are. I want to see what I'm getting my school teacher self into."

"Fine." Stifle started the engine, gritting her teeth. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

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"Now what?" Logan asked Gambit as the jet touched down in Mexico and they stumbled out into the cool night air. All around them the chirruping of crickets echoed like an insect orchestra. There was a road over the rise, and Gambit had spotted something worth checking out when they'd passed over a few moments ago.

"You can do whatever you want Wolverine," he told the feral man with a shrug. "I'se goin' gettin' drunk."

With that, Gambit started off towards the distant neon lights of a remote bar. A few moments passed before he heard the telltale sound of footsteps trying to catch him up. Sounded like Logan quite liked the idea of a few beers himself. Remy paused and turned back, waiting for his drinking companion. Briefly he wondered what all the other X-Men were doing right now…

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"Ooh Stifle, long time no see…"

Dell had driven Blaze to an abandoned brick-built mill on Manchester's northeastern edge. They parked the car on a gravely patch of waste ground, half hidden by weeds. The distant orange glow of the streetlights and quiet hum of the M60 ring road were elusive in the early hours of the morning. On their way, they had passed streets of houses all dark with curtains closed. It didn't seem like anyone was awake, and Blaze had expressed a concern to Stifle that maybe the kids would be asleep too. Stifle had laughed it off shortly, claiming the kids were nocturnal. She had been right.

The door of the mill had long since been boarded over to stop the dregs of society from using it. Yet the wood was rotten, the nails that held it rusty. Stifle showed Blaze that it could be peeled away much like peeling an orange. They ducked inside, and entered another world. Sad looking furniture and half-rotten rugs were scattered over the mill's ground level. Boxes made of cardboard and wooden packing crates were mixed in between. Fairy lights that looked like they had been stolen off a house front at Christmas time were woven through the sagging beams above. A generator that looked like it had been put together out of an old car engine powered them as well as a few standing lamps. It would have been quite cosy, if it hadn't been for the stale smell of rising damp and the creaking of the floorboards that threatened to collapse with every step forward Blaze took.

The 'kids' that Blaze had been sent to help train were a gaggle of teens and young adults of various ages. They sprawled around the mill with cans of beer and bottles of cheap spirits. They didn't look amused that Stifle had just entered without knocking. The one who spoke out was a lad in his early twenties with strange eyes. It took Blaze a moment to realise his irises were purple. He sat on one of the sofas, leaning forward over a packing crate. In his hands he had a mean looking flick knife. He sat it with its point on the wood, and was spinning it casually in his hand. The others did not appear any more welcoming, all of them pinned Stifle and Blaze with accusing stares, deliberately trying to make them feel uncomfortable.

"Put the knife away Indigo." Stifle told the speaker throatily. He did as he was told, but slowly and carefully. The knife went into a pocket of his leather jacket as he stood and approached the X-Men.

"Have you pulled Stifle?" He asked nastily, looking Blaze over. He took a close sweep around the pair, brushing past Blaze violently, knocking her shoulder. "I don't think much of your girlfriend…"

"This is Blaze, she's one of the X-Men. The man I told you about, Professor Xavier, has sent her to help you with your powers." Stifle was relieved that the kids were acting to form. She glanced at Blaze, expecting her to be quaking in her boots. She was disappointed; Blaze actually had a small smile tugging at her lips.

"One of the X-Men eh?" A girl in her late teens asked, as the lad called Indigo went and sat behind her and began rubbing her shoulders with his fingers. Blaze presumed they must be a couple. "You don't look so hard."

"Can't be a very good one if she's got landed in our neck of the woods." Another girl pointed out, taking a swig of a vodka bottle and landing her feet on one of the cardboard 'tables'. "She's not even that much older than you, Indie…"

"Yeah, I think you're right." Indie laughed maliciously. "You know she looks familiar. Maybe I've been out with her mum or summot."

"She's a joke." A black lad contributed. "She can't help us. I'm out of here." He went to leave.