Rise or Fall

by Heiress Mellie

First Class: Charles and Erik have accepted their roles as guardians and headmasters over the young mutants but there is still work to be done for the greater than typical family. This is a familial and discipline, including spanking, centered fiction.

266. Chapter 266 Precious Gems

X-Men-First Class: Rise or Fall

Chapter Two Hundred Sixty-Six

Author's Word: *Bouncing around like rubber made flesh ala classic Looney Tunes while screeching with joy* Fam, thank you so much for that indescribable, heart lifting, soul healing, geekiness inducing feedback! It has been sensational, not to mention an incredible update motivator. But apparently, there is some vicious fam rumor floating about that we're ending soon. Yes, soon as in within this decade… possibly. Immediately soon? Ha! So, while you guys attempt to wade through this latest Rise or Fall novel, I have party plans to arrange for a certain sister. Please enjoy and review!

In cozy bumblebee themed night attire, the X-Girl paced the kitchen. Managing to balance the remains of the butter pecan pint, she propped the telephone between her shoulder and ear. She also remained grateful that the one on the other end could not see her usually vibrant face coated in green cleansing mask.

"It is truly phenomenal, Fabian. Leave this house for a couple hours and miss World War Three."

"I heard," he replied. "Coll said she was about ready to flood Niagara with that crying. Bren and Melissa managed to help her pull herself together."

Cordelia mumbled, nibbling on the edge of her spoon, "As if she doesn't have enough friends…"

"Is that a dose of bitterness I'm hearing?" Fabian detected. "I thought you'd moved past these issues."

"I have. It's just…" Cordelia sighed heavily. "First, everyone was preoccupied with seeing her through her recovery and now everything is going to be centered around her wedding. Way to steal every fiber of senior year thunder from the rest of us. I thought I'd at lease have that to look forward to as I linger in the reject bin."

"Your present mailing address is the self-pity bin," Fabian corrected. "I've subleased there myself. You're the one forcing yourself to wallow in it."

"You're right… and I hate it. Still, I need a break from Sean and Maya glee. Everything really. Would you…?" She carefully phrased her next question. "Would you be willing to drive to my dad's with me this weekend? You still need to meet him and with Chris out of town, there'll be a little more breathing room."

"Okay."

At the instantaneous reply, Cordelia thought her ears liars. "You mean it?"

"To a significant degree," Fabian answered. "Besides, I could use a little away time myself."

"Oh thank you!" Cordelia grew squeamish. "There's just one problem. We're going to have to normalize most of the time. Father's taken on this young intern of Chris'."

Fabian said, "No skin off my flawless tan. As long as you're near me, my mutation thrives. Along with everything else about me."

Cordelia smiled into the receiver, letting it reflect in her voice for the remainder of the conversation.

IIIIIII

Screech of a whistle blaring throughout the kitchen, Maya used one oven-mitt covered hand to turn off the burner and carefully remove the kettle. She added it to the rest of the tea service on a lengthy platter. Getting another glove on, she squatted and removed the oven's inner contents. As she gently situated the tin on one counter, two strong arms around her middle unleashed a chirp from her.

"Sean," she reacted, touching his wrists in turn.

Holding her near, Sean dipped to reach her ear. "Just getting used to our future morning routine." They shared a kiss and he noted, "I like this outfit," of the black knit skirt and silky blue blouse tucked into it. She also wore heels.

"Thanks. Between this and homemade strawberry muffins, hopefully things will go over better this time around."

Looking at her sharply, Sean said, "Maya, we're not about to plead like a couple kids out for permission to go to a concert. This is our lives we're talking about. Our lives."

Maya responded patiently, "I know that, honey. But I'm not trying to play pretend grownup with teen tantrums. We're all going to be calm and reasonable this time. No screaming matches. Promise me, Sean."

The redhead sighed. "I promise."

Soon enough, the mutant elder pair made their debut in the eatery.

"Maya, it smells wonderful in here," Charles praised. "You shouldn't have troubled yourself."

"Thanks, Professor, but it really wasn't—" Her heart leapt with the serving tray, which slipped almost as soon she picked it up.

Erik magnetically captured it along with its contents and placed them neatly on the center of the island. "Maya," he turned to the flustered female, "we are not strangers. And I'm personally sorry if I've made you feel like one in our home."

"It's okay," the girl assured.

Sean brought the muffin basket to the island, where they sat in twos on opposite sides.

"Before anything," began Charles, "I want to say how sorry I am. I never meant to be so harsh with you last night."

"I did," asserted Erik. "I only hate the way things escalated. Out of concern for your well-being, feelings fall short in terms of importance with me."

"I'm sorry for taking off that way," said Maya.

"And I'm sorry for how I talked to everyone. I was trying to be a man, but I know I didn't come off that way," Sean admitted. "I'm also sorry for dropping this on you like a bomb. I thought if I came to you the way Hank did, seeking permission, you'd see me as a ridiculous kid and shoot me down."

Charles nodded. "And I can see how you could feel that way. I only urge both of you to try to see our point of view. We are not against the idea of you getting married, especially if it's after graduation. But going away to school, Sean sacrificing it to perform in night clubs…"

"Charles, I'll still go to school," the redhead vowed. "I'll just go part-time. It'll only be until I adjust to the new life and manage to put away some money for us."

"Sean," Charles spoke gently, "show business comes with so much fame and glory, it is far too easy to gear off track. Then when the tide turns, you find yourself left with a few fond memories and no education. You have far too bright a future ahead of you for that. I wouldn't beat you over the head this way if I thought otherwise."

The boy responded, "Charles, I know how worried you are, but I can handle it. I have to. It's time for me to become my own man. For us to start our lives together. For Maya to finally get the chance to live away from this town and all the memories that come with it."

Erik kept a gaze on the girl. "And I understand how much you want that and how much you deserve it. I'm pleased to know the Howletts plan to come stay with you when Sean's away. Yet Sean taking on this wealth of responsibilities all at once is still problematic. It is too big a load for one who hasn't lived alone before."

"What about this?" Charles put forth. "You go to Syracuse, but I'll handle your expenses. You can take a job on-campus and truly focus on your studies and marriage."

"Charles, I want to pursue my music and this is a great opportunity," Sean emphasized. "Besides, I want to be the one to take care of my wife. I need to be. That's the whole point."

"True," Erik concurred. "Then how's this? As a wedding gift, you let us pick up whatever tuition and fees are left from your grants. I know Maya's is going to be particularly expensive, as any program dealing with medicine always is. You can still explore this musical endeavor, but you are to check in with us twice a week. If you find you are having a difficult time at all, let one of us know. We'll help you any way we can, even if it's waving flash cards for you."

"Or cooking for you when midterms and finals become too stressful." Charles eyed them with utmost seriousness. "And they will, this I can attest. Thank God for Raven."

"We want you to grow into fine adults," Erik went on, "and have a successful, love filled marriage. But that doesn't change the fact that you will always be ours. We remain here for Hank and Raven. As well as each other. There are times when Charles and I don't take particularly good care of ourselves and we need the other to step in. Doing so doesn't make one of us a lesser man. Simply a mortal one."

Charles asked, "What do you say?"

"Sean," touching his knee, Maya nodded.

Sean returned the gesture then faced the Headmasters again. "It's a deal. And thank you."

Maya bounced from her seat with a giddy cry. "We love you!" She hugged the Professor then the metal wielder. "Thank you so much!"

Erik held her tightly. "And no partying for you, young lady. Being away from home is no excuse for you to try to stay up as late as eleven."

Maya laughed into his suit jacket.

Sharing a hug with Sean, Charles tugged on his hair. "In addition, groom-and-Syracuse-freshman-to-be, you will mind your words and tone in the future, yes? I don't want any more outbursts like last night. If something, anything, worries you, come and talk to me about it rationally first. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," Sean replied in a meeker voice. "I really am sorry."

With Maya happily gripping one of his arms, Erik asked, "Have you spoken with your family in Virginia?"

Sean answered with a click of his tongue, "Next order of business…" Among other people.

IIIIIII

All wearing various workout attire, the formation of girls perspired profusely while trying to move in sync to the demonstrated routine. Only a couple feet away from each other, Becky and Anne swapped smiles every so often. Their vigor and growing fatigue had nothing on their male counterparts. As instructed by theirs coaches and led by Gary, the Jaguar boys ran laps around the field. Gary switched heading the line with Scott a few times, as the younger boy looked as if he could run down the ones in front of him without slowing for a moment. Inwardly, Scott emitted waves of appreciation for his X-Men training.

From the bleachers, Melissa stated, "My skin is officially crawling."

Seated on the row directly above her, Leon nudged her with his foot. "You're loving this."

"I am not. I can't believe Anne actually got persuaded into the path of the pompom."

"To be honest, Becky's interest was a bit of a shock, too, last year," Leon recalled. "I remember the cheerleaders from high school. Somehow I never pictured sweet, smart, opinionated, Torah studying, journal keeping Becky numbered among them."

Despite herself, Melissa said, "They aren't half bad. Either of them."

Leon put forth, "You're still head cheerleader, you know."

"I never got to be head cheerleader," Melissa reminded flippantly.

An unbothered Leon claimed, "You are now. You have it in you, no matter what. Except girls like Anne, Brenda, and Maya are the squad in awe of you."

Sinking into thought, Melissa came back with, "Speaking of, how go things in the world of Maya and high school hubby?"

"Better, though I'm still shocked Sean didn't wait for some grand dramatic moment during the prom. I think Erik, Charles, and the others are growing on them moving upstate. After all, he did get into Syracuse. That's a big achievement."

Melissa peered up with a catty smirk. "You're messing yourself with joy that he won't be invading your space."

Leon bobbed his head. "You better believe it."

"Ass," she accused.

"Just the way you like me."

"You better believe it."

IIIIIII

Upon Friday's arrival, Cordelia sprang out of bed without a single thump to her snooze button. It had been a surprise to her to have Emma and Charles agree to let her leave school after fourth period. The girl assumed them too distracted with Maya and Sean to want to fight over anything ultimately insignificant. After they both collected homework from their remaining classes, Cordelia and Fabian drove off straight from school in Cordelia's already packed car. They enjoyed the smooth ride and minimal traffic, mostly switching back and forth between radio tunes.

Cordelia let Fabian drive at one point while she drifted off. Watching her comfortable in the passenger's seat, Fabian found himself at ease. Beyond the ride, he liked her trusting him with her beloved vehicle in addition to wanting to share her childhood home with him. When they made it into Boston, a now more alert Cordelia took the wheel.

They reached the Frost Family property shortly and Fabian removed his sunglasses for the full view of the lush lawns and blooming gardens. Getting inside the house with her key, the teenagers had no time to take in the lovely entryway as staff members hurried to take their overnight and school bags from them. With the way the butler made it a point to show them to Fabian's guest room, a good ten doors down from Cordelia's quarters, the couple received Winston's crystal clear warning against the evils of fleshly temptation.

"Isn't Daddy in yet?"

"A last minute conference," the attendant explained. "He said for you children to get settled. Also, be certain to look your best for dinner this evening. A colleague of your father's will be joining you at the table."

"Alright." When the man made tracks for the downstairs, Cordelia put forth, "Shall I leave a trail of bread crumbs to guide you to me?"

Fabian replied impishly, "When have I ever had trouble tracking you down?"

With a certain grin, Cordelia started for her own suite. She burst into her room and right away sought out more comfortable clothing, as she still had on school attire of a skirt and blouse. Before she could change, she noticed the pieces of fat white mail on her satin pillow. Sitting on the cushy mattress, she took the one on top for closer observation. At the scarlet letterhead, she sucked in a breath. Getting the envelope open, she removed the numerous letters within.

A minute later, perky barking signaled the presence of Beauty.

Retreating from the little dog, Fabian made it into her doorway. "Can you tell your friend here that I no longer count as a foe?" Peering into the room, he stepped forward due to her present state of utter shock. "Cordelia?" He squatted before her, touching her leg. "What's wrong? What is it?"

"… I got into Boston University." Even as she spoke the words, the disbelief remained. "And U of Mass."

Fabian, however, reacted with, "Felicitaciones, bonita. Though I do not envy your daily commute."

Lowering the papers, Cordelia gave him a flat look. "Fabian…"

"None of that." Standing, he pulled her up from the bed and into his arms, causing her own to instinctively coil his neck. "We are getting away from it all, remember? No worries. All this." He closed the gap between their lips.

Cordelia murmured in pleasure, bringing her head to his shoulder. "You can say that with the knowledge of meeting my father in a little under three hours?"

"Hmmmm, alone time…"

"Let me change." She gave him another kiss to tide him over.

"Hurry." Returning her to her feet, Fabian slapped the center of her behind.

Jumping at the jolt, Cordelia eyed him sharply. "What was that, motivation?"

"Congratulations... in sign language." He left out of the room pacing backwards, watching her until he reached the hall.

Cordelia knelt to take Beauty into a big hug. The girl then got into soft black pants, tennis shoes, and a yellow top entirely made up in the pattern of daisies. With the slight chill in mind, she put on her black button-down sweater as well.

After finding Fabian, who had switched over to one of his custom track suits, Cordelia proceeded to give him her home's grand tour. They held hands all the while she pointed to various sights that would appear mundane to any other eye. She indicated the two-foot vase she bumped into at age four or five. The vase had hardly budged an inch, but the blood brought to Cordelia's nose had made her mother pale and shriek. She revealed a few of her favorite hiding spots; hide-and-seek being one of the few games she could convince Chris to play with her without too much pleading. She even remembered the place in the main level hall where Adrienne attempted to teach her itty bitty sister the way proper ladies carried purses. As with most lady manners, that involved a certain degree of strutting. Cordelia could not help her laughter at Adrienne commenting on how Emma could not strut because "Miss Stick" lacked hips. The memory was all the funnier considering the way Emma could out feminine power walk both of them now.

They explored the gardens, colors plentiful and outstretched further than the eye could see, and went back in for another clothing shift. They put on their bathing suits, met downstairs, and raced for the backyard. The second they stepped into the bubbling hot tub, any nippiness present in the air became numb to them. Arms around each other, they circled in the water rhythmically. When lethargy from the drive kicked in, Fabian eased back against one wall of the tub while his chest became Cordelia's pillow.

Working a massaging hand up and down the back of her one-piece suit, Fabian asked into her ear, "Do you want to go to a school here?"

Eyelids cracking, Cordelia replied, "How can I possibly? What about the X-Men?" She gazed up with distressed blue eyes. "What about us?"

"I love you."

Blinking, Cordelia instantly returned, "Fabian, I love you, too."

"That is us," Fabian stated. "There will always be us. Whatever other doubts you have, scratch that off the list."

Rising, Cordelia gripped his shoulders and kissed him with full vigor. Fabian's arms reached around her waist, as he had to spare enough concentration to prevent their drowning.

At an unusual buzzing and fear of hornets, Cordelia opened her eyes and gasped.

"What's wrong?" Following her pupils, his widened at the mechanical insect hovering just inches from the hot tub. "What in the…"

The electronic voice of, "I see you," made them both shudder and inch away. "Will you be my friends…?"

Sending out a punch, Fabian's fist did not connect as the bug merely zipped away. He climbed out of the tub and attempted to give it chase, but ended up tumbling into the grass.

Picking up on laughter, Cordelia's gaze landed on a tree. "Hey, who is that?"

Poking out from behind the wood, the thin, dark haired teenager continued to guffaw. "If you'd only seen your faces."

Cordelia crossed her arms. "Johnathon Ohnn, I take it?"

"At your service." One hand going behind his back, the boy bowed deeply. "And the name's Nate, madam. If you don't mind."

Getting up with heated shoulders, Fabian marched to him. "Your name will be mud if you sneak up on us like that again." He grabbed him by the front of his shirt. "You don't want to know what will happen if you spy on us again…"

Cordelia hurried to intervene. "Fabian, there's no need for that. He's just a kid."

Releasing him, Fabian said, "Kids need to remember their place."

With a smile, Nate detected, "You're a Spaniard!"

Folding his arms, Fabian responded, "And proud. You're a bratty Brit, aren't you?"

"Oh, London?" Cordelia guessed. "That's from where my brother-in-law's family hails."

"Don't I wish?" Nate snorted. "My family's further south in the countryside. But I got to live in London for an entire semester at Oxford last year. Even basic campus life was a smash!"

Cordelia grinned, "That's the brother-in-law's alma mater, too. Oh," manners returning, she stuck out a hand, "I'm Cordelia."

"Mr. Frost's youngest daughter," Nate gathered, taking her hand delicately. "I recognize you from the pictures. You're far prettier in person."

Fabian rolled his eyes in a triple motion.

"Thank you." Cordelia touched the arm of the male at her side. "This is Fabian Cortez."

Nate held a hand to him. "The beau, right?"

"You are correct. Congratulations, I imagine it doesn't happen often." Still, Fabian shook with him, placing a firm grip on the smaller appendage.

With a slight struggle, Nate removed his hand and flexed it to relieve the mild discomfort. "Hey!" He reacted to having his remote control seized.

"So this is how you operate your little bug-bot." Fabian studied the remote, keeping it out of the shorter boy's reach. "Cheap pranks are the best a supposed prodigy has to offer? Simply…" He shoved the device against his chest, "adorable," and headed for the indoors.

"Hm." Nate rocked back and forth on the tips of his toes. "We're shaping up to be bosom buddies."

"Fabian annoys easily." Cordelia patted his shoulder in comfort. "I'll talk to him."

After the girl scuttled inside, Nate shrugged and resumed flying his makeshift insect around.

IIIIIII

Satisfied with the volume the rollers had given to her hair, Cordelia applied very subtle makeup. Enough for presentation, but not so much that her father believed she returned to him a harlot. Stepping into her shiny black flats, she positioned herself in front of the floor-length mirror. She wore a dress; black long-sleeve top with high neckline. The shimmering skirt in honey chiffon stopped right below her knees. Dark stockings covered her legs. Performing a brief spin, she moved to answer the knock to her door.

On the other side stood Fabian, clothed in gray slacks, a navy dress shirt, and maroon tie. "You never miss a moment to compliment the eyes."

"Neither do you," she replied contentedly.

He reached a hand into the room. "Shall we?"

"Just one thing." Going to her vanity, she retrieved the gold pendant with diamond center. She took a few seconds to glide fond fingers over the heirloom.

Coming up behind, Fabian gently took the necklace to secure the clasp for her. "Magnifico."

Prepared to melt on the spot from his arms finding their way around her, Cordelia advised, "We'd best move along. My father has no tolerance for mealtime tardiness."

Joining their arms, Fabian led them out of the room. They made it downstairs and followed masculine voices into the living room. On the sofa, the men conversed in a world all their own. Off to the side in a chair, Nate had on a white shirt with black sweater vest that matched his pants and polished shoes. He seemed to reside in his own mental space as well, tinkering with a small contraption.

"And there's my darling," Winston acknowledged his daughter, placing his drink on its coaster. Gripping his scepter, he stood to go to her. "You are radiant."

Cordelia accepted his peck to her cheek and squeezed his hand. "Thank you, Daddy."

"Do you remember my research associate?" Winston indicated their guest, who stood to his full and considerable height. "Dr. Otto Octavius."

"Yes, of course." Cordelia bent in a brief curtsy. "Delighted to see you again, Dr. Octavius. How have you been?"

The gentleman with short brown hair and clothed in olive green suit bowed. "Too well to complain. It's also very flattering that you remember me because it's been a good four years since I was last in the states. You've certainly grown into a lovely young lady." He noticed the one with her. "And who have we here?"

"This is Cordelia's friend, Fabian Cortez," Winston introduced.

Promptly extending his hand, Fabian addressed him with, "It's a pleasure, Doctor."

Otto accepted the shake with a bob of his head. "Same here, Fabian."

"Dinner should only be a few minutes away," mentioned Winston. "Let's proceed to the table."

The males stayed in place for Cordelia to walk ahead of them. Letting his guests go next, Winston brought up the rear. In the dining room, he took his usual place at the head. Cordelia and Fabian sat on one side of him with Otto and Nate directly across.

Winston said, "I must thank you, Fabian for accompanying my daughter on this trip. The world has become far too dangerous for a young woman to drive alone such a distance."

"I was happy to, Mr. Frost," assured Fabian. "Plus I've been eager to make your acquaintance. Your home is even more beautiful than Cordelia's description."

"Cordelia, I hear congratulations are in order," Otto put forth. "Your sister's marriage and little baby. Not to mention your slew of other new family members."

Winston brought up, "I wish Samantha could have come with you. My first granddaughter and I've yet to sit down with the girl."

Cordelia said apologetically, "We would have, Daddy, but she and Angel are with Dri this weekend."

"Dr. Octavius, you mentioned that you'd been away for some time," Fabian raised. "Were you on holiday?"

"More like sabbatical," Otto responded. "After my wife passed, I went through a very difficult time. I resigned from the university and left to travel Europe. Late last year, I was contacted by Harvard seeking my return. At the promised position as head of the Physics Department, I felt it was time to get back into the classroom." He tapped Nate's shoulder. "Where I'm even more so fortunate, due to having this young man amongst my student body."

"Nate," Cordelia spoke to the one in prolonged silence, "you said you attended Oxford last semester. What made you transfer?"

"Harvard was actually my first choice, but they put me on the waiting list," the blue-eyed boy explained. "When a spot opened for spring semester, I couldn't jump on it fast enough. At last, a chance to study in the Colonies. It was actually Doc here who turned me onto the internship with your brother."

"That's right. Chris did have a class with you, Dr. Octavius," Cordelia remembered.

"Yes," Otto nodded. "He was the kind of pupil to make a teacher…"

"Seek refuge with narcotics," supplied Winston, causing the young people to stifle their amusement.

Hiding a bit of his own, Otto concluded with, "He was an interesting challenge. When I heard he'd graduated and was doing so well, my heart soared. Christian always did have that potential about him. Like a certain other lad I've come to know…"

Cordelia smiled at Nate. "So, what made you move out of the dorms, anyway?"

Nate darted eyes back and forth. "I… felt they were too distracting for serious study."

"He means he took advantage of being so far from home that his GPA very nearly wound up at the bottom of a garbage disposal," translated Winston. "Chris intervened and I agreed to let him stay here for a little necessary structure."

Nate put on a broad smile. "And what an opportunity these last few weeks have been."

At the exact hour, the main course and assortment of side dishes made it out to the table.

"Fabian, Cordelia, tell me," Otto lowered his wine glass, "how is senior year treating you? The college rush getting to you yet?"

"More or less," Fabian replied vaguely.

"Your father told me you were turned down by your first choice school," Otto said sympathetically to Cordelia. "That can happen more often than not. Simply try not to lose faith."

"Well, actually, I saw the mail when I got home." Cordelia then announced, "I was accepted into Boston University and the University of Massachusetts."

Otto immediately commended, "Congratulations, dear. A closed door results in an opened window."

A surprised Winston put down his fork. "Clearly I need to keep a better eye on the afternoon mail. Sweetheart, I had no idea you'd applied here."

"It was a bit of a whim," Cordelia admitted. "The old stomping grounds and all. I never dreamed I would get into Boston U especially."

Nate looked interested. "Oh, you're going to university here as well? It'd be nice to have a study buddy, not to mention cellmate in educational misery."

Though she smiled, Cordelia said, "It's still up in the air at this point."

"Believe me," Otto spoke. "You kids have time."

Winston tacked on, "Only be certain not to squander it."

Fabian stated, "Wouldn't dream of it."

When the main meal ended, Winston put forth, "Cordy, why don't you and Johnathon take Otto into the living room for dessert and coffee? I'm sure he would love to hear more about your schooling. We'll join you shortly."

Cordelia asked, "Is everything okay?"

Getting up, Nate clarified, "He cannot properly grill your suitor with all of us present."

Otto arose with a chuckle. "Come, come. Leave them be."

Cordelia ran her palm over Fabian's hand before getting up.

After the housekeeper cleared the table, leaving the remaining pair alone in the dining room, Winston began straightforwardly, "So, willingness to travel four hours to meet the father? And before that, you managed to convince your own to enroll you in Cordelia's school. I take it your intentions towards my daughter go beyond attending the local sock hop together?"

"They always have," Fabian informed, "sir."

"I'll be frank, son. I dreamed of a little more for my youngest child than a life as right-hand wench to a mutant terrorist. Nearly losing a daughter to a mutant nazi brought about such prejudices in me."

"Extremists we are," Fabian admitted. "Terrorists we are not. My father simply desires to keep us from getting trampled under the boots of the default ordinary."

"The ordinary," quoted Winston with an air of humor. "Oddly enough, this reminds me of these rising women liberators. A ludicrous notion in and of itself. As if the average American female, prone to spending their afternoons at bridge parties while listening to radio soap operas, is forced to don a hijab and step twenty paces behind her husband. Do you know the real reason women are often passed over in favor of men for professional positions, Fabian?" The boy eyed him expectantly. "I can tell you that it has nothing to do with hatred nor the male ego- at least for most of us. In all honesty, with their organizational and multi-tasking skills, men often feel most comfortable having a woman on staff. That is, until she marries or becomes a mother. And just like that, her male employer is left in the lurch while she partakes in her happily ever after. Compare that to the devotion of a working husband and father. Yet let a woman tell it and we're all chauvinistic swine. How easy it is to become swept up in the self-righteousness of martyrdom."

Fabian surmised, "You believe the mutants in my father's organization to be sniveling hypocrites."

Winston said, "I will not delude either of us into believing there are not those out there prepared to hate and harm you. However, if you actually think all of humanity seeks to burn you at the stake, that is misguided as well as shamefully arrogant. You and your father believe you can make things better for your kind with a classic "Us vs. Them" philosophy? You'll only be repeating the mistakes made throughout history with such a mentality. Do you hate me, Fabian?"

He shook his head. "No, I don't."

"Do you believe I hate you?"

"No," Fabian repeated.

"What I believe is that you really do care for my daughter," Winston told him. "And from what I've seen so far, you seem like a respectable, well-mannered young man with some ambition. While you should never surrender common sense to give into the shortsightedness of optimism, don't allow blind, misguided rage to make a fool of you, either."

Fabian looked vacantly at the older male before wordlessly staring at the cherry wood table top.

II

Seated together on the couch, Cordelia and Nate ate their slices of key lime pie with hot chocolate. Facing them, Otto enjoyed his own piece with coffee.

Putting down his mug a moment, he said, "I can't tell you how sorry I am about your mother, Cordelia. Even more so that I didn't learn of the funeral in time."

Finding his dessert harder to swallow, Nate flashed eyes towards the girl.

Cordelia placed her empty plate on the coffee table. "Thank you. It was difficult, to say the least, at first, but things have gotten better."

Otto nodded. "It thrills me to know your family is recovering together. Winston credits you a great deal for that."

"I do wish, but credit really goes to my brother-in-law for entering our lives," Cordelia claimed.

"Ah, yes. The Xavier lad," Otto recollected. "Another held in high regard by your father."

Fabian and Winston made their way back to the living room and the group finished dessert together.

After saying goodbye to Otto for the evening, the remaining four retreated to the upstairs. Cordelia relished in an extended shower in her private bathroom with zero concerns about complaints of her overusing the warm water or cluttering the sink. She blow-dried her hair and put on yellow-black striped sleep pants and a goldenrod baby doll top with matching silk robe. Considering who she had brought home with her, she did not dare walk around in anything but nightwear most likely to be purchased by the Gabor sisters.

Maneuvering through the hall, she attempted to look casual with hands folded behind her back. She stopped outside of one open door, belonging to the younger teenage male. Peeking in, Cordelia initially thought she saw an extension of Hank's lab with the numerous gizmos and other scientific oddities scattered about.

"Quite the innovator, I see."

With only legs visible, Nate crawled out from beneath his bed. "Oh Cordelia, yes, just a few projects." He rubbed his head thoughtfully. "If I can figure out what's become of my toolkit…" Standing, he looked at her with contrition. "I'm sorry about earlier. I suppose I'm not the greatest at icebreakers."

Cordelia shrugged. "I'm used to living with bold brainy boys. And don't worry about Fabian. He doesn't always warm up right away."

"So, best to take the eye-rolls and death glares with a grain of salt?"

"More like a case of salt, but yes. How do you like living here?"

Nate took the time to fully consider that. "It's been an adjustment, but things seem rather smooth now. Chris really is a joy to shadow and your dad isn't half bad, either. At least, once you manage to get on his good side. Something else to get used to. Our funds depleted considerably after my father's death, so we moved in with my mum's dad. Grandfather isn't easy to get close to, but he tries to take care of us the best he can. I believe he was happier for me than he let on when I won my scholarships."

"I'm sure he and your mother both are," Cordelia supported wholeheartedly. "And I hope you start to feel even more at home here."

"Thanks, Cordelia, I really appreciate that," the boy said sincerely. "Listen, you've mentioned your brother-in-law quite fondly. Is he really such a grand-scale expert on genetic mutation?"

"He certainly is. He's given countless lectures at universities and political gatherings," Cordelia boasted without shame.

"Then it is true. Charles Xavier is something of an Oxford legend," Nate told her. "I sure would love to sit and chat with him one of these days."

"We'll just have to make that arrangement straightaway. He can even read his thesis to you."

"Really? Would he mind?"

Cordelia laughed at that. "He would take a captive audience of the deaf if it meant getting to review his theories."

Nate grinned with elation then told her, "You know, you're really nothing like the other girls I've met here."

Cordelia said wryly, "I hope that's a good thing."

"The best thing," he reaffirmed.

"Thanks, Nate." She turned to leave. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Can't wait," he said after her, prepared to bounce in place with hyper giddiness.

Cordelia caught Fabian for a good night kiss in time to return to her own room seconds before her father came to see about her.

"Wishing you a good night really has become a luxury." Cordelia sent him a smile and Winston noticed the documents left on her desk. "Ah, and what's this? Two of the finest universities in the state vying for my little gem."

Cordelia brought her knees in towards her chest. "Your little gem is likely what they're really after. My grades and test scores barely meet the bare minimum for either of those schools. I'll wager anything in my last name being the deciding factor."

An indifferent Winston turned to her with raised eyebrow. "And that's a problem?" Scepter forward, he walked to and sat on the side of her bed. "Was it not your last name and lifestyle that made Westchester University pick apart your worth?"

"Well…" Cordelia knew the truth in that. "Yes, but Daddy, still…"

"Cordy," Winston reached over to touch her shoulder and even their blue eyes, "you needn't carry shame over having doors opened for you because once you have a foot in, your success is all in your hands. It took immeasurable blood and sweat for me to achieve all that we have. For someone to try to penalize my children for reaping the benefits of that hard work is a slap in the face. Now, I can and will criticize all of you for not living up to opportunity and your own potential, but I'm your father. I don't require a backup choir."

The girl giggled. "No, you really don't. And you know? You're right." Her pleasantness faded. "Except I'm still lost as to what to do. Leaving Westchester? I can't spring that on Charles and Em after this whole debacle with Sean and Maya."

"What about Sean and Maya?"

"They're getting married and moving upstate for school."

Winston remarked, "How… predictably quaint of them. But back to the point, sweetheart, take some more time to consider everything. Don't make any rash decisions."

Cordelia asked solemnly, "What do you want me to do?"

Winston answered, "Become seven years old again, prancing about in your pink ballet costume."

"Ugh," she grunted, though unable to hide her smile at the memory, "I hated that thing."

"I don't know why. You were the cutest ballerina in your entire class." He took her hands to clutch a moment. "Of course it would delight me to have my little girl home again. But only if it's the right time."

With a nod, Cordelia said, "Thanks, Daddy. I really do need to think about this."

"I'm really sorry I'm going to be preoccupied most of tomorrow."

"Oh, it's fine. Adrienne got me and Fabian tickets to Cleopatra on stage. They're deluxe balcony seats, so the tickets are open-ended for whenever we can catch it."

"Cleopatra." A distance reflected in Winston's eyes. "Your mother must have dragged me out to it three times. Her face seemed to light up brighter with every showing." At Cordelia's dreamy expression, the man cleared his throat. "Well, why don't I take you kids out for brunch? I should be home around six in the evening and you and I can spend a little time together."

"Best laid plans," Cordelia seconded.

When she stretched out on her back, Winston spread the comforter over her. "Good night, my love."

"Good night, Daddy," she returned, rolling to one side.

Going to the doorway, Winston switched off the light and closed the door as he eased out. Taking a moment to absorb the unusual yet not altogether troublesome spirit of youth present within his house, Winston headed downstairs to look into other matters.

IIIIIIII

Radiant sun high above brought out the rich colors that made up the massive Frost property. On top of Valiant, Cordelia raced alongside Nate. On a horse with chocolate brown fur, Nate's face aglow and blue eyes sparkling almost outshined the sun. Both wore proper equestrian attire, Cordelia's in various shades of harvest gold and Nate's in an ebony and ivory combination, including helmets. Several yards off, Fabian's riding clothes came in indigo and violet.

"Ha!" Reaching their set point first, Cordelia playfully taunted, "Is that the best you've got?" She lost her jest at his expression. "Nate?"

"What do you suppose he's wishing?" The younger teen watched Fabian steer the horse to leap across various stones. "That I'll fall and split my skull or that a swarm of particularly nasty vultures peck me to death?"

"Oh stop it," Cordelia waved off. "Fabian only needs to get to know you. He really isn't comfortable with just anyone. He has his reasons, believe me."

Nate sat in wonder of how any guy at Fabian's height and physique could be uncomfortable around someone they could easily flick like a toothpick.

The Spanish male trotted their way. "If we're having brunch at your father's club, we better head in to freshen up."

"Oh yes, of course," Cordelia agreed, having let time slip away during the exhilarating ride.

After the steeds received some cooldown time, the three guided them back to their designated stalls.

Nate proclaimed, "You are a one-of-a-kind horsewoman, Cordy."

"Thank you." She faced Nate while running her hand through Valiant's mane. "You're one-of-a-kind as well."

"At what?"

Cordelia shrugged with a wink. "You know, in general."

Nate wore a smile all the way back inside the main house.

Since they had been walking around the stable and on the grass, they unzipped and left their boots by the door. At the top of the stairs, they all started their separate ways for hygiene repair.

Nate ceased movement suddenly and after some inner debate, found himself in Fabian's doorway.

Pressing a teal shirt against his front to size it up, Fabian spotted him in the mirror. "Get lost, did you?"

"No such luck today," Nate replied glibly. "I was just wondering if, with Cordelia being preoccupied with her dad and all, if you perhaps wanted to do something tonight… with me."

Fabian dropped the shirt for another on a hanger. "Such as?"

"Anything. Television, records, cards, a round of cricket…"

"I like cricket."

Nate perked at this. "Up for a tournament tonight?"

"If you're ripe for defeat, who am I to deny it to you? Now, no offense," Fabian flapped a dismissing hand, "but go away. You're depleting my oxygen."

Nate zipped away and charged enthusiastically into his own room.

After they all finished changing into appropriate spring articles, Cordelia found Winston in his office. The quad waited on the front porch until the car pulled up. Inside the limousine, Cordelia sat closest to her father and clamped onto his arm. Fabian reclined, half-listening to the one prattling at his side.

"I don't see much of Dad's side, but Mum's family usually pops in around the holidays if they can manage," Nate detailed. "I only have older cousins on her side, but they're fairly decent chaps. Do your relatives fly in to see you or do you go to them? I've heard it said that generations upon generations of Spanish families are known to share a home."

Fabian folded his arms. "It's only my father, younger sister, and I. We don't bother with insincere pleasantries from our relations."

"A rather open, honest mindset," commented Winston. "Some might argue terrible, but the real travesty is to allow needless distractions a place in your life."

Cordelia nodded into his tweed jacket in agreement.

With the temperature reaching above sixty degrees, their group opted to eat in the outdoor extension of the country club's dining room. To his chagrin, Winston had to make haste right after ice cream. He had the limo drop the youngsters off at the house before he rushed on to his next engagement.

"Will you be alright?" Cordelia asked Nate. "We should be in around five."

"That's fine," the boy said. "I should hit the books, anyway. I don't want your brother to think me a slacker while he's away."

"Good. Let me know if you need any review help when we get back."

As Cordelia headed upstairs, Fabian stooped over the collegiate adolescent. "See to it that you don't burn down the place." He pointed a finger at him. "Or bug it."

Nate formed a cute smirk.

The couple loaded into Cordelia's car and took off for the downtown area. They arrived at the correct theater house, where they redeemed their tickets. With ten minutes until the show, they settled in their balcony seats after pushing the cushioned chairs as close together as possible. Though high up, they received a fantastic central view of the stage, able to take in every possible angle.

Fabian followed the story well and found it appropriately cast for the most part, but his primary attention stayed on the girl tucked under his arm. Judging by her vacant yet somehow utterly captivated blue eyes, Fabian knew she went beyond enjoying the show to almost experiencing it. He knew well the happier place the whole thing sent her back to. Fabian's own thoughts journeyed back a shorter distance to Halloween. He had been the one to suggest their Egyptian inspired costumes. He took great pleasure in the serendipity involved, having not known Cordelia's feelings towards Cleopatra at the time. At the final curtain call, Cordelia ripped from her seat with applause. Fabian arose with her in kudos.

On their way back to the car, Fabian took notice of a gleaming structure hundreds of stories high. "I see they found a good contractor for the Tower of Babel's remodel."

Following his gaze, Cordelia smiled. "Prudential Tower, actually. They finally finished it last year."

"Supposed to be one of the tallest in the US, isn't it?"

"In the world. Outside of New York."

Fabian glanced at her. "Up for a closer look?"

"Only with you." Cordelia wound her arms around one of his.

They walked the few blocks to the grand building. Upon entry, they decided to take the elevator straight to the top. Though so scattered and far away, all of Boston seemed as if in their reach.

Eyes locked on the window, Cordelia said in awe, "Magnificent. Isn't it, Fabian?"

However, his eyes only viewed her. "Yes… just about."

When he took her hand, Cordelia moved along, but in bewilderment. "Fabian, what- where are we going?"

Fabian did not speak until they arrived outside a specific door labeled "No Access". "I'd prefer the full experience, wouldn't you?"

Cordelia darted eyes in every direction to scan for security. "Are you trying to get us killed?"

Fabian asserted, "We both know that's inevitable where the greatest love stories are concerned."

Cordelia stated, "In that case, we're downgrading to mediocre."

"Impossible." He then attempted to penetrate the lock.

With another quick check of their surroundings, Cordelia requested, "Allow me." Making gold of one of her hands, she yanked on the knob, resulting in a cracking sound. "I'm sure they can fix that."

"It's what they live for." Getting the door open, Fabian gestured for her to go up first and he hurried after her.

In order to reach the roof Cordelia had to get them through another heavy door, but determined the situation more than worth it at the sight that greeted them. As if roosted on top the very planet, everything stretched out like a quilt of intricate, unmatched design.

"The first step in giving you the world," stated Fabian. "What do you think? Like the color?"

Humming thoughtfully, Cordelia spun to take in everything. "Needs more yellow, but otherwise sufficient. And also?" Walking up, she pressed palms against his chest and stared into his brown eyes. "They can have this wretched world. I have so much better. I have you."

"Yes, you do." Fabian dipped his chin to meet her in an all-encompassing kiss.

They lowered to sit with Cordelia in Fabian's lap, their gazes forward.

"Do you remember the last time we were like this?" the girl recalled. "Power rush through the city, pizza on the roof…"

"Trapped on opposing sides." Fabian brushed lips across her hairline. "Wasn't that eons ago?"

Lolling against him, Cordelia replied, "It feels like it."

"So, now that you're fully legally Samantha's fun aunt, does that make me her fun uncle?"

Cordelia giggled softly. "I hope the spirit moves you that way."

Fabian rested his chin in her dark hair. "We can easily outdo them, you know."

"Who?"

"Sean and Maya," he clarified. "We could have our own summer wedding in a lush garden, fresh flowers in bloom, live music to capture the very soul of Spain, the scents of decadent meats and pastries filling the air…"

Unable to perform verbal skills or even blink at first, Cordelia twisted to look into his face. "Fabian, you… you cannot be serious."

"Why not?" he responded glibly. "My father knows you're no fleeting crush. I could talk to yours tonight."

"Fabian, don't be absurd. You can't get married simply to take the wind out of another couple's sails. Hearing about them may get old, but I am happy for Sean and Maya. And getting married on a petty whim somehow isn't how I pictured us starting our life together."

Fabian deduced, "But you have pictured it."

Cordelia nodded admittedly. "For a long time now, quite vividly. But most assuredly not at seventeen. I'd like a voter's registration card ahead of a marriage license. I'm a bit of an oddity that way. Let us cherish this kid time before it's gone forever. We're worth waiting for, aren't we?"

Giving her a long kiss first, Fabian answered, "Si, bonita. As you know, getting rid of me is no easy feat."

"Then I'd best stop trying. There we go." Laying her head on his chest, she got even cozier on him. "Problem solved."

Fabian held her close to him while his fingers lingered in her hair. He eyed the city some more, the all too soon lowering sun casting rich splashes of color across everything.

A sudden spark in the sky made him shudder. "Cordelia, look."

Almost ready to fall asleep, she sat up at the urgency in his voice and moved her head to see what he meant. Her eyes swelled monumentally upon witnessing the two forms cut through the sky from a great distance away.

Cordelia determined, "Those were not shooting stars."

II

Somehow making it to the secluded region, the two came to a landing behind a deserted building. Both in full body black coated in some type of unusually thick armor, one stood to a solid height while his companion packed voluptuous curves. The black suits covered their entire bodies, except for a slit that allowed the female's long white hair to spill down her back. The armor covered their chests, waists, boots, and gloves; his pine green and hers cherry red. Their lengthy capes came in the same colors as their armor. They also sported plated masks with frozen theatrical inspired expressions made into them.

Having managed to follow the trail of the strange entities, the teenagers left the car hidden. Perched covertly on top of the condemned structure, they stared down in astounded intrigue.

"My gosh," uttered Cordelia lowly. "Are they mutants? Can you tell?"

Watching as the female knelt near the male, who appeared mildly damaged, Fabian whispered, "I- Ah!" The cry resulted from two equally abrupt lashes to his rear.

Cordelia had no chance to question his distress as she fully realized the shadow eclipsing them both. Another of them, armor in steel gray and a whip in one hand, towered over the teenagers.

The deep baritone demanded, "What do you know about mutants?"

"That all the cheap Halloween costumes in the world will never make you one," retorted Fabian, eyes narrowed scornfully. "Pinche puta."

Attention entirely on the boy, the figure said, "Let's see if a few more will help your brain catch up with your mouth," and raised his whip again.

"No!" Cordelia scrambled to her feet.

Stilling his hand, the stranger warned, "Stand aside or you're next, little girl." The gold encasing her body made him step back once.

"Good luck with that," sneered Cordelia.

"Onyx, stop!" On rocket powered boots, the entity in green along with female shot into the sky. "Don't hurt them."

The whip wielder gazed up. "You know these kids, Malachite?"

"That's my sister."

When the green mask divided in half to display the face behind it, Cordelia very nearly plummeted from the building in dizzy astonishment.

IIIIIII

Almost prisoners of their mutual daze, the high-schoolers dwelled in silence aboard the spacious private plane. Even Chris promising they would come back for her car the next day hardly registered in Cordelia's ears. They waited while the adult three occupied the changing rooms towards the back near the lavatory. Though wider than the X-Men's jet, the seating consisted of two rows of forward facing pairs.

Byron Niko, the one dressed in gray, emerged first. Now in attire of a black leisure suit with walnut dress shirt, he stood an inch or two shorter than Chris but had broader shoulders and a firmer form. Tan-skinned, his wavy black hair reached his shoulders. As he moved through the aisle, he and Fabian locked brown eyes for a moment. Nothing remotely resembling apologetic showed on Byron's face. If anything, his eyes appeared ready and able to drill straight through the boy's skull. Getting to the front of the plane, Byron settled in the pilot's chair.

Chris stepped out next, wearing khakis, a white shirt, and brown mod jacket. He touched his hand to his sister's head. While still shocked and confused, Cordelia squeezed his wrist in turn. She peered back at the final door opening. She noted that outside of the unconventional gear, Felicia actually had light brown hair with golden highlights, though still quite long. She now wore a white peplum top with pearls, coral skirt, white heals, and carried a sweater over one arm that matched her skirt. She took the seat next to Chris', directly across from the younger two.

"Felicia… Felicia Hardy." Cordelia raised her head at the realization. "As in the Hardy Foundation in New York?"

"That's what the press keeps telling me before I inadvertently impale them with a stiletto," Felicia confirmed with a pleasant countenance.

"You and your mother finance those boarding hospitals for terminally ill children, rehabilitation centers, animal hospitals…" Cordelia then inquired, "Are you aware of how fabulous you are?"

Felicia exhaled delightedly. "Speak for yourself. I can see why Chris sings your praises so."

Cordelia promptly shifted gaze to her brother. "Oh, really? Any other secrets you have in store?"

"Or better yet," Fabian interjected, tone reflecting his irritation, "explaining what in God's name is going on with this one? Did we interrupt your Ivanhoe reenactment, perhaps?"

"Don't bunch your tidy-whiteys, kid," Byron piped up, getting them airborne.

Gripping Fabian's bicep to ease him, Cordelia flashed petitioning eyes across the way. "Chris?"

"We'll arrive in less than ten minutes," Chris informed. "Until then, give me time to process this explanation myself."

Crossing his arms with an expression to match, Fabian theorized their arrival point would involve kidney harvesting.

It soon came into view as Byron steered them towards the end of the warehouse district. Sharing a window, Fabian and Cordelia saw them stay on the path of a five-story fitness center that only had windows on the top floor. Hovering just above the roof, Byron activated a switch that separated the apparently steel ceiling. As soon as they landed inside the carrier, the roof sealed itself again. In total darkness at first, the automatic lights illuminated things for them.

"Really, a private health club?" Fabian descended the plane's steps behind the others. "As much as I would love to assist with a new cardio regiment- some of us needing it more than others- I don't think now is the appropriate time."

"Try keeping your mouth shut," suggested Byron, "and your eye and ears open."

Fabian responded to that with a curt, "Constantly."

They filled the one elevator and Felicia selected the ground level option. An all the more lost Cordelia and Fabian exchanged a look. When the elevator reached their stop, a keyboard slid out from the buttons panel. Using French-tipped fingers, Cordelia input the code at a near incalculable speed.

"She's the editor of the Hardy Foundation's newsletter," Chris said mainly to Cordelia. "Grammar wiz and unmatched typist."

"Really?" Cordelia responded with interest, looking to the older female. "I have the highest marks in Home Economics, especially in needlework."

"You're kidding." Now Felicia faced her with impression. "I could hardly keep my head above water in Home Ec. How are you with hems?"

"Oh, they're really quite simple once you—"

"Ladies," Byron stretched out one long arm to keep the doors apart, "if we may…"

Exiting the elevator, Felicia and Cordelia continued speaking with Chris directly behind them.

At Fabian's narrow gaze and hesitation, Byron invited somewhat uncannily, "Go on."

"You first," Fabian countered.

"Ah, but you're a guest."

Fabian formed a taut smile. "Age before beauty."

With a quirk to his lips, Byron proceeded forward. Fabian kept up the pace after him.

When they made it to the black door at the end of the barely lit hallway, Felicia turned the knob for the interior to be made known to the newcomers. Cordelia's jaw dropped in a slow motion, trying to take in the enormous laboratory that could only be described as Hank's personal Wonder Land.

She then zeroed in on the assortment of familiar faces. "Daddy?" He turned from a chalkboard, equally surprised to see her. "Dr. Octavius?" The goggle sporting man glanced up from his control panel. Another twisted around in a swivel chair. "Nate?"

"Cor," the boy waved. "So, dish. How was the show?"

"Cordelia?" Winston approached his daughter.

Otto pushed his goggles to the top of his head. "It would seem the cat is out of the bag and thriving, Winston."

Shoving through, Fabian demanded, "For whatever meager good resides in this world, what is going on?"

Winston regarded his son in displeasure. "Christian…"

Chris sighed into his palm. "I better fill them in."

"Great, now it's a party." Byron sat on the edge of a desk. "I'll go for popcorn."

"Do you want popcorn?" Nate gestured with his thumb in one direction. "We do have a kitchen."

Otto patted his shoulder. "My boy, if there ever was not a time, this is it."

Cordelia pulled over a chair and sat next to Nate while Fabian opted to keep standing by the other youths. His expression and posture lacked anything resembling patience.

Felicia's encouraging nod helped Chris press forward. "Do you remember that candidate that succeeded the alderman chair here?"

"Vile Larson," Cordelia nodded.

"Lyle," corrected Otto. "Though yours is accurate as well."

"Since the holidays," Chris went on, "I've made it a mission to infiltrate organizations with an anti-mutant agenda. Larson's crusade to wipe out unwanted genes goes deeper than anything his public can imagine. He backs a network dedicated to eradicating undesirables; the mentally ill and disabled, paraplegics, those carrying sickle cell anemia and other life-threatening genes, and at the top of the list, mutants. He uses his political resources and criminal connections to meet this end any way he has to."

With simplicity, Fabian proposed, "Let's get rid of him first. My people can make a vanishing act out of him."

Winston eyed the boy condescendingly. "I can do that much myself. Lyle Larson has untold influence, but he's still only one man. Get him out of the picture and another will take his place. No, only by night can we oppose him. Come day's light, we're allied again."

Cordelia twisted in her chair to better view her father. "Allied?"

"We are intertwined in their lives," stated Winston grimly. "And they in ours. I'm one of Larson's campaign contributors."

The girl could not help the glint of betrayal that flashed in her eyes. "Daddy…"

"He has to support him in the public's eye, Cordy," Chris emphasized, getting her attention back on him. "As do the rest of us. My firm supplies much of his medical equipment. Along with certain other tech kept off the books."

"My law office is in his pocket as well," Byron informed. "Many a Larson malpractice suit has been thrown out, compliments of my legal team. The one bright spot is that I seldom have to work with him directly since I specialize more in domestic matters.."

Cordelia inquired, "What about you, Felicia? Does he have his hooks in the Hardy Foundation as well?"

Felicia shook her head. "Fortunately, no. Though that doesn't stop Larson from extending invitations to us. Chris and I joined forces in this when we bumped into each other at a fundraiser of his back in February. When sufficient drunkenness set in with the partygoers, each of us wound up in his office. Only to find out that we shared the mutual goal of shutting down his organization."

Glancing at the woman quickly, Chris spoke to the youngsters again. "Since my promotion, I've been extensively involved in some of the firm's more covert projects. Specifically, the design of advanced, sophisticated weaponry. Believe it or not, my modifications were inspired by Joey. Untraceable weapons that require neither bullet nor blade. I've honed an organic electrical energy capable of igniting intense pain without the use of all-out deadly force. It's embedded into the armor you saw us in tonight."

Cordelia gaped at her brother, prepared to fall from her chair. "You've honestly formed your own vigilante team?" With so many questions, she considered something in particular. "But how on earth have you been getting away with this? If it's your technology, can't they link it to you immediately?"

Chris replied, "They could if not for the fact that Larson's own people have our weaponry on hand as well. Since I don't make any waves during the day, in their minds it could be literally anyone behind the masks. Besides, Larson isn't going to draw any unnecessary attention to this, in the off chance his own criminal activities are brought to light. Byron provides extensive privileged information and Felicia supplies our aircrafts. Essentially, it's us vs. them operating under the law."

While Cordelia sat in taken aback silence, Fabian had to lean against a table to let it all sink in.

"While I'm able to fund all of this, I knew of only one man who could create the necessary battle armor." Winston turned the direction of his colleague.

With a small smile, Otto said, "At least I now know what twist of fate really guided me back here.

All eyes fell on Fabian as he released a dry chuckle. "And you expect us to believe that you do all of this," he grandly indicated the large lab, "for "the cause". You're likely after a mutant for yourself. A delectable specimen for your dissection."

An infuriated Winston aimed his scepter the boy's way. "You are well out of line, Fabian Cortez."

"It's alright, Winston," placated Otto, walking towards the accusatory teen. "I'm not surprised you feel that way. It shames me what many members of the scientific community are willing to do in their pursuits. But you must know, not all of us are guinea pig hunters, desiring to play God. Some of us only seek to preserve His creation."

Quiet at first, Fabian turned to the others. "And what about you two?" He looked between Felicia and Byron. "You risk throwing away your career, name, reputation, even your life all for a species that has nothing to do with you? At least Miss Hardy isn't difficult to figure out. All socialites go through the bored, rebellious phase."

"Yes, we do," Felicia confirmed with no sign of anger. "Thankfully, those days are now behind me."

"If you are so concerned with trusting us, join us. Both of you," Byron put forth, surprising everyone present. "At least for the night."

"Out of the question," Winston shot down vehemently.

Chris backed his father with, "Byron, are you out of your mind? I'm not going to expose any mutants to these people, let alone my little sister."

"Your little sister is one of the X-Men," Cordelia reminded matter-of-factly, rising from her chair. "We've faced threats and forces beyond the limits of comprehension. So has Fabian's team."

Fabian claimed, "Protecting mutants? Nothing more than a hobby where you're all concerned. It's my life's blood."

Byron responded evenly, "Then we actually have something in common."

Otto rubbed his chin in growing ponder. "I do have additional suit prototypes. With a few modifications…"

Winston stared at him flatly. "You're actually considering this."

Eyes lighting up, Nate jumped rapidly enough to knock over his chair. "Count me in. I've been waiting for this."

"And the wait goes on," informed Winston. "Johnathon, you can't begin to handle a responsibility of this magnitude."

"What? But I…" Nate faced Chris for support.

The blonde shook his head solemnly. "I'm sorry, Nate. Not yet. As valuable an asset as your mind is, you're still too impulsive and easily distracted."

Byron tacked on, "Not to mention fifteen."

Nate urged, "I'm going to be sixteen!"

"Wonderful, we'll have cake." That dismissal aside, Winston addressed the rest with, "It's time to prep. Mutated or not, I want my daughter well-equipped out there."
"So, let me get this straight," Felicia began to recount. "In all of six hours' time, we're to get two high-schoolers trained in weaponry they've never operated, outfitted in tailored battle gear they've also never used before, and fill them in on the specifics of a priority mission?"

"Wrong, wrong, wrong," denied Chris. "You forgot that I also have to repair my rocket launcher, lest I plummet from the sky at an inopportune moment."

Byron said, "But the rest is about the gist of it."

"Excellent," Felicia grinned, pressing palms together readily. "Let's begin."

"Chris, bring your launcher to the workshop. If you'll excuse me, I have a great deal of mending and welding ahead of me." Otto casually strolled towards the designated space.

"Give him a hand, Johnathon," Winston directed.

"Of course." Nate grudgingly followed after his professor. "I live to serve… as a lowly, underpaid grunge…"

Winston instantly turned around. "What was that, Mr. Ohnn?"

"Oh, I was just saying… wait up, Doc Ock!" Nate picked up his pace with the Roadrunner's motivation.

IIIIIII

Jacket and top neatly folded away, the young Acolyte remained in his pants and undershirt. While he performed different stretches on the mats that practically made up the first floor of the fitness center, he wondered yet again if he should get his household on the phone. The strangest thing proved to be that every time he told himself to call, another part of his mind cast the notion straight out. To clear the cloud of confusion continuously growing in mass all around him, Fabian determined he needed to scope out this strange unit. Ordinary humans crusading for the mutated? He would need to see that up close before belief even became an option.

"Think fast!"

Fabian managed to do so, seizing the small but intricately carved stick thrown his way. "What is this, a wand? Forget your magic lamp on your last trip to Morocco, Aladdin?"

Byron stared back at him with a countenance void of humor. "I am Samoan. Not Indian, Persian, or black with "good hair". Get your demeaning references in order, Mexico."

"Without my people there would be no Mexico," stated Fabian haughtily. "And Samoa? One of the countries so forgotten, I've never even seen your language course offered? Tell me, do you ever unite with Lithuania to commiserate your lack of important to the rest of the globe?" Byron said nothing as he reached over to flick the switch located at the edge of the stick. Ultra-thin wires extended from both sides. "Hate to disappoint, but I'm not one for fishi—" Fabian nearly dropped the device as surges ran along the wires, forming into an electrical staff.

"Meet your new best friend," Byron informed. "Learn to use it and your opponent will be begging through the agony. Or keep fooling around and put the pain on yourself instead."

"I don't need a warning label," Fabian claimed. "My people deal in non-fatal weaponry. Body counts are too counterproductive for their worth."

Hands going behind his back, Byron eyed him eloquently. "The way I understand it, your people deal in terrorism."

"We do not—"

"What do you call wanton violence and destruction?" Byron snapped while his composure remained calm. "Hm? Standing your ground, getting a message out, defending your turf, giving off a warning? Yeah, you're giving off a warning alright. To the American government to piss their pants in fear of you. Giving crusaders like Lyle Larson all the ammo necessary to justify your elimination."

Shoulders releasing a tremor, Fabian attempted to stiffen his posture. "If it comes to that, we will strike—"

"Right out," Byron cut in tersely. "You think one little gene abnormality puts you in the alpha position? We outnumber you, Fabian. Give us a reason. Any reason. We can hunt you, enslave you, and kill you for our own giggles. So, who lacks importance exactly?"

Veins ready to burst, a sincere growl unleashed from the back of Fabian's throat as he moved to swing the staff. Byron dropped to his back and kicked the boy's legs out from under him. Even as he went down, Fabian held firmly to the staff's center. Byron rolled out of the way as Fabian crawled after him like a wounded but rabid predator. Jumping to their feet at the same time, they exchanged additional blows and swipes until Fabian finally struck him with the staff. With a heavy groan, Byron went to one knee.

Gathering himself, he gazed up at the teenager who appeared entirely breathless. "You were right back there you know. You have no reason beyond empty words to trust us. I'll fight for you and all the mutants. I'm not asking you to believe me. I'm asking for the chance to prove it to you."

Fabian's age decreased significantly due to his lost tone of voice. "Why? Why do you care about any of this?"

"Because I do. If you need greater reason than that, maybe I'll give it to you. If I can trust you, too." At the apprehensive but nonetheless offered hand, Byron let the teen help him to his feet.

Fabian then brought up, "You do know you attacked me without provocation?"

"I'd thank my lucky stars if I were you," Byron advised dismissively. "When on, my whip generates a current that when set to max can induce mild heart attacks."

Regarding that information, Fabian could only think to say, "… I see."

"And learn to watch your back." Walking towards the opposite end of the mat, Byron amended, "More importantly, your backside."

Fabian's grip tightened on the staff as they went into another round.

II

"Thanks so much for letting me use your clothes." Cordelia's voice signaled her entry to the second level, heading for the basketball court. "Did not intend a workout portion for my date."

Equipment lined up on a bench, Felicia, in athletic apparel also, said, "It's no trouble. With all the time we spend here, I'm going to start measuring for my own shoe closet."

Cordelia noticed the various parts. "Don't you need these for your uniform?"

"These are a few backups. Your brother and his rather unconventional mind dreamed up these tools of modern meets medieval." Felicia further explained, "Chris wields the sword model, Byron has the whip of course, and he's training Fabian on how to operate the staff. As for us? I find this option effective and far less clunky."

Cordelia watched the older female slip on one of the red metallic gloves. Using a particular gesture with her fingers, Felicia summoned what appeared to be a miniature crossbow out from the backhand. At first believing it too small and admittedly adorable to act as any type of field arsenal, Cordelia stood in awe of the lengthy arrow of electricity that shot from the miniscule barrel. Felicia did not stop there as she jumped across to different pieces of equipment. She finished by rolling across the floor, firing throughout.

"You are... Felicia, you are amazing," Cordelia declared. "You would leave an Olympic judging committee floored."

Felicia removed the glove to hold out to her. "Now it's your turn." Though the girl did accept it, Felicia noticed the hesitation in her face. "It really isn't that daunting and I'm the one who can't master a needle and thread, remember?"

"No, it's only that…" Cordelia flexed her fingers, attempting to get a feel for the glove, "I'm not used to anything beyond hand-to-hand or using my gold form for defensive repellant. We have our own gun range back home, but the instructor in charge of it only lets certain kids on it. The wondrous pillars of stability."

"Hm." Felicia studied her features. "I never would have wagered budding sociopath from you. Not that it's a problem. In fact, I'm certain we can use it to our advantage."

"I didn't think I would even see my brother this weekend and now I'm swept up into this sudden… greatness he's built. It's really dawned on me how much I don't want to let him down."

Taking in the teenager's words, Felicia responded, "I could never deny the greatness that is Christian Frost, but you should hear him go on about you, Cordy. You're a prime factor in why he wanted to turn his life around. And all of this? Why he's here? Why we're all here? For you, your sisters, your family, even that disagreeable but passionately opinionated male on your arm."

Forming a smile, Cordelia faced forward and raised the glove. "Sorry in advance if I don't get this right the first time."

"Warning in advance?" Felicia returned, easing the girl's shoulders. "We'll keep trying until you do."

II

Eyeing the black garments of differing sizes displayed on the mannequin, Nate snapped his head away. Wanting to distract himself from the building desire to kick a mannequin in an unmentionable region, he gazed around the workshop conjoined to the lab. Thick gloves and protective metallic mask in place, Otto had not peered up from welding for more than an hour. Picking up on the murmur, the boy walked across the loaded shop to where his mentor occupied a chair.

"Alright, Chris?"

Ordering a yawn back, the blonde answered, "Yeah, fine, Nate. Just this one…" He groaned in frustration over the coin shaped device he held. "If I could figure this one component, the team's shields would be complete. I should have had this done last week!"

Nate took a seat on the arm of his chair. "If I were of real help to you, you'd have had the chance to finish it."

Chris gazed up at this. "No, Nate, this is not your fault. I wasn't even sure about taking on an intern- some clueless whelp always falling on his face- but you proved me wrong. It's been great working with you, showing you the ropes, even picking up a few things from you."

Nate managed a weak smile. "I only wish I could work with you out there."

Chris gave a tender pat to his back. "You will when the time is right. I'm counting on it."

Getting up again, Nate determined, "Better put on a fresh pot of coffee."

Chris promised in gratitude, "You have first pick of my vital organs- even if I'm still using them," and resumed trying to figure out his troublesome gizmo.

IIIIIII

Despite the two hundred or more seats that filled the third floor's auditorium, likely there for the fitness center to rent out to dance troops, Winston acted as an audience of one. He did receive the benefit of front row center.

"Otto, while I commend and remain ever astounded that you completed a project that would take ten men a week, are these theatrics really necessary?"

Residing on top of the stage, the scientist gave his friend a knowing glance. "This from the man who takes every opportunity to vividly detail revolutionary facts for tourists at every historical hotspot in this city?"

"Oh, I love his retelling of the Boston Tea Party." A few feet away on the stage, Nate smiled Winston's direction. "And remember Mr. Frost, presentation is the first factor in one's final grade."

"Well put, Nate," Otto praised. "And speaking on behalf of educators everywhere, kudos for memorization."

The teen beamed with boyish delightfulness.

Getting on with things, Otto took hold of one velvet rope while Nate grabbed the other. "With great honor, we present…" On Otto's signal, the tugged on the ropes to draw back the stage drapes.

There stood the three figures lined up in formation of red, green, and gray. From behind them stepped forward two more, who currently wore their masks open. Capes, slightly shorter for the females, flowed down their backs.

When Winston only approached the stage wordlessly, Nate nudged excitedly, "So, what do you think? Some of Doc Ock's finest work, yes?"

"This is…" Cordelia touched ginger fingers to her gold chest plate, meticulously etched into the shape of an X. "I just love it!"
Otto mentioned, "Your brother thought you would."

Fabian's attire came with armor in cobalt blue. "Dare I say it's rather… avante garde." He attempted to conceal his supreme satisfaction over the matching cape.

"Otto, though I'm not surprised, I am nonetheless impressed," Winston stated. "And due to the rushed nature of earlier, I doubt formal introductions took place." He addressed the teenagers as he walked by the stage, indicating the older three as he spoke. "This evening your teammates and senior members are Lady Garnet," the red mask divided to reveal Felicia, "Sir Malachite," Chris' mask split, "And Lord Onyx." Byron wore a dutiful countenance.

Fabian cringed. "Must we reduce ourselves to the ridiculousness of codenames?"

He and Cordelia both received a startle at the adult chorus of, "Yes."

"Let me make something perfectly plain." Winston mounted the stage and made a path for the new arrivals, guided by his scepter. "When you go out there tonight, you are not mutants. You are not Fabian Cortez. You are not Cordelia Frost. Whatever challenges you have faced in the past, we are talking about underhanded, lethal criminals with political ties out for their own gains. You are a mere commodity for the lowest of human life to exploit and a disease that their puppet masters want purged from the planet. It doesn't matter who your families are or what kind of power you possess. If they receive so much as a clue about who and what you really are, Rome falls. Right on top of you and everyone else in this room. We wear the masks during the day. You must wear them tonight."

"We wear the mask that grins and lies. It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes. This debt we pay to human guile. With torn and bleeding hearts we smile. And mouth with myriad subtleties. Why should the world be over-wise, in counting all our tears and sighs? Nay, let them only see us, while we wear the mask." At his quizzical on-lookers, Otto's lips curved upward. "Dunbar. My wife's recitation was vastly superior."

Cordelia sent him a warm smile.

"Alright, so," Fabian pointed out the adults, "Garnet, Malachite, Onyx… I'm sensing a bit of a theme here."

"The mask I will wear, but it is Glimmer I remain," Cordelia told the gathered. "Though now I suppose Lady Glimmer is more appropriate."

Lady Garnet regarded her with approval.

"And what about you?" Byron asked of Fabian. "How does Prince Pearl strike you?"

Fabian eyed him wryly as he selected, "Azurite. Earl Azurite."

Cordelia commented, "Perfecto."

"As indescribably ace as all of this is, I'd best get back to work. Good luck, Lords and Ladies." Nate made his way down from the stage and out of the auditorium.

"You will especially need to be on guard," Otto cautioned the teenagers. "Your armor is stronger than iron, but your suits are only bullet resistant, able to prevent penetration but not the pain of impact. And since we're pressed for time, I am unable to modify them to resist extreme cold, heat, and shock. For this mission's particular location, you shouldn't have too much trouble."

"And don't waste time or fuel on needless heroics," instructed Winston. "You Ladies keep to aerial attacks as much as possible. Stay focused on the objective and bringing one another back here in one piece."

"Understood, Father," assured Cordelia.

After further review and additional weapons check, the seven filled the elevator. At the way they piled in without suffocating one another, the newcomers knew why the transport space stretched wider than most elevators in five-star hotels.

Once on the top level, Winston placed a hand on each of his children's shoulders. "Call me a broken record as I know you will, but…"

The unbothered Glimmer touched his wrist. "We'll be fine, Daddy."

"Better yet. We're together on this one," Sir Malachite reaffirmed.

Glimmer's eyes went straight to him.

Winston responded to his son with, "Lead on."

Sir Malachite bowed his head.

Winston and Otto remained near the elevator while the armored quintet made their stride towards the plane.

As the other three ascended, Malachite gazed back at the newly titled Earl. "Azurite?"

Splitting his mask apart, the male youth declared gloomily, "I am a crippled foreigner entering hostile terrain. My strength, my power- it's my kind that fuels it. Even with Glimmer, going in with so many non-mutants will only diminish my usefulness to you."

Showing his own face, Malachite said, "I can hardly imagine the mixed feelings you have right now. And it's true, you're not fighting with other mutants. You're fighting for mutants. You're not merely useful. You are an asset."

Standing in pensive ponder a moment, Azurite ascended the few steps into the jet. Sparing one more look to his father and Otto, Sir Malachite boarded.

"And just like that," Lady Garnet finished adjusting the white wig she provided for Glimmer, "you can be any woman."

"Chic," Lady Glimmer said of her reflection in the overhead mirror.

Earl Azurite walked to the front of the craft. "Conducting interviews for a co-pilot? I have experience."

Lord Onyx merely gestured for him to take over the chair next to his.

Able to maneuver through the aisle due to one of the many design features of their boots, Sir Malachite told Glimmer, "Prepare for the payoff from years of dance rehearsals and gymnastics competitions. We're going to have to be on our toes with this one. This struggle is not going to relent easily. Not with the price for this substance."

Lady Glimmer wondered, "How much are we talking?"

Seated next to her, Lady Garnet answered, "Somewhere in the neighborhood of a thousand per box."

Glimmer came back with, "Neighborhood or small South American nation?"

"Funny you should mention that," Malachite spoke again. "The shipment is actually coming in from Brazil. It's illegal here, Canada, and Mexico. We have to secure it first."

Earl Azurite asked, "And it's essentially a mutant poison?"

Sir Malachite explained, "It's a key component Larson would amputate a limb to get a hold of. When spliced, he can administer it to any expecting mother without detection. The effects are gradual and over the course of two weeks, it breaks the baby's body down into partially dissolved fragments. After the miscarriage, the chemical leaves the mother unable to conceive again."

Glimmer had to press a hand to her midsection to combat the bubbling nausea she felt coming on.

"If it's that deadly, why are we bothering to secure it?" Earl Azurite reasoned. "We need to destroy it."

"Love to," Lord Onyx piped up. "Except for one minor snag. If this chemical is fired upon or exposed to excessive heat in its purest form, it will result in an explosion spanning the equivalent of ten city blocks or more. Burying it at sea or attempting to dump it somewhere? It will affect any animal, aquatic, or insect life exposed to it. With the amount coming in, kiss the Boston ecosystem and possibly beyond goodbye."

Lady Glimmer surmised, "And rabid woodland creatures may draw unwanted attention."

"Exactly," said Malachite. "That's why it's being sent over in steel containers."

Lady Garnet brought up, "Also, if we can bring back the samples, Dr. Octavius believes he can derive an antidote for it. Larson will more likely than not get his hands on more, but if we stay up-to-date on his prenatal patients, we can reverse the side effects."

Glimmer wanted to know, "And save the babies?"

"Possibly," Garnet replied. "If we can reach the mothers in time. Unfortunately, there is little we can do about potential birth defects."

Sir Malachite said grimly, "Which will be far worse than what Larson considers undesirable genes."

"Fun with irony, Lords and Ladies," quipped Onyx.

When they closed in on their destination, the piloting pair left the craft in hover mode.

To the entry door sliding open, Sir Malachite directed, "Lord Onyx…"

"Walk, don't run," the gray adorned one advised as he took the first leap.

Earl Azurite shouted, "Nos vemos," after him.

Lining up next, Lady Garnet glanced back at the last two. "Don't wander now."

The equally coy Malachite countered, "Have you hunt us down? Perish the thought."

A smile in her voice, Lady Garnet said, "Catch you on the slopes," to Glimmer before diving.

The girl in gold ventured forth next. She shared a gaze with her brother despite their concealed countenances.

"Right behind you, Baby Sis."

"Likewise." Lady Glimmer jumped with that.

Plummeting last, Sir Malachite powered his boots.

Glimmer peered back with relief to see the unique shoes' rocket feature successfully mended.

Nearing the loading dock, the group took refuge behind a closed fish market.

At the lifeform void surroundings, minus a few seagulls, Lady Glimmer put forth, "Are you sure we're in the right place?"

Sir Malachite explained, "We're still half an hour away from the drop-off."

"Pity. I hate idle wastefulness." Earl Azurite leaned against the wall with arms folded. "Who's for splitting a pitcher of sangria?"

Lord Onyx fielded that with, "Three years from now? It's a plan, amigo."

Azurite rolled his unseen eyes.

During their wait, Azurite and Glimmer used the remains of an overturned stand for a bench.

Lady Garnet came to stand alongside the male in green. "How are you holding up?"

Sir Malachite answered, "Somehow."

"You can't keep up these restless nights forever. You have to start taking better care of yourself."

"Myself isn't my priority," Sir Malachite stated. "I've spent enough time in that mentality already."

Lady Garnet touched the back of his cape. "How long are you going to continue with this self-flagellation before you consider yourself redeemed?"

He moved to face her. "How long will you, m'Lady?"

Quiet for a moment, she came back with, "Point taken, Sir. Subject nowhere near closed, however."

Sir Malachite carried a glint of humor in his tone. "As if I didn't see that coming."

"Hm." Earl Azurite eyed the two. "Her angle is evident." He gestured with his head towards Lord Onyx, who currently positioned himself in something of a meditative stance. "It's his I have yet to decipher."

"We do have regular human friends," Lady Glimmer reminded him. "Have you thought for just a second that maybe that's their real angle?"

"We are the prey in this scenario," Azurite emphasized. "We cannot let our guard down with these people completely."

As if finding his mask entirely sheer, Glimmer asked, "Is that what you really think or what you're trying to convince yourself is true?"

Azurite engaged in a prolonged stare with her before silently staring downward. Glimmer brought her head to his shoulder, feeling him ease a bit from the contact.

"Everyone." The single hushed word from Sir Malachite brought them into a cluster.

One by one the dock began to fill with faceless vagabonds in head to toe black guises as a small ship came into view.

Lady Garnet put forth, "And what have we learned, gentlemen? A career as a petty thug is no excuse for poor punctuality."

"Wonderful," came from Earl Azurite flatly. "Can we teach them a few things now?"

"Don't be in such a hurry, good Earl," Sir Malachite advised. "At least let them do the heavy lifting for us."

Once they unloaded the four metallic cases from the ship, the concealed sailors accepted their cash payment. With not one dawdler among them, they returned to their boat to sail off again.

Before the buyers could collect their goods, the electric sword wielder made a landing in front of them. "Thanks for treating us. We'll clear the next tab."

"Sir Malachite," one of them recognized.

As the other touched down to join him, Lady Glimmer remarked, "You have a following? I've been away for too long."

When every one of the encroachers pulled out an individual weapon, Earl Azurite realized, "We're outnumbered… excellente."

Sir Malachite commanded, "Spread out."

While the males darted off in different directions, the Ladies took to the sky again. From their gloves, they released energy arrows. The effort caused the opposition to slow down until they began firing back. Garnet and Glimmer quickly divided to get out of the path of an icy blue ray.

Glimmer demanded, "What is that?"

"Don't let it touch you!" Garnet shouted across to her. "Its effects range from dizzying to catatonia."

Glimmer had no time to wonder about the amount of meth used by her brother's employers to create such concoctions as she dodged another.

With a spin kick, Azurite forced two down by use of his staff. He noticed a herd of them attempting to flee with the crates.

Earl Azurite jumped to land on one box. "Apologies, hombres, but I'll have to confiscate this contraband."

The whip sped through the air to knock a gun out of one's hand. Lord Onyx then waited patiently for three to run at him before sending out his line again. It coiled around them and they howled like wounded wolves from the shock inflicted on them.

Seeing the actual guns aimed at her boyfriend, Lady Glimmer dropped. Under her uniform, she formed into gold, causing bullet ricochet. When the guns emptied, she looked over her shoulder at Azurite, who tipped his head to her before continuing the fight.

"No!" Lady Garnet saw two crates relocated to inside their van. "We can't let them get away, Malachite."

"And we won't," he guaranteed, using the blunt end of his sword to shake off one attacker.

"Wait." Lord Onyx darted eyes in every possible direction. "Where's the third crate?"

They received their answer in the form of a mini jet rising from its former hiding place. Even with their masks in place and eyes on the sky, the five formed mutual countenances of annoyed disbelief.

Blasting skyward, Malachite ordered, "Onyx, Azurite, follow the van. Ladies, let's move!"

Garnet and Glimmer quickly caught up with Malachite and they sought to do the same with the small plane.

"Ugh," Glimmer groaned. "This would be so much easier if we could just shoot."

"That would detonate the chemical." Lady Garnet also mentioned offhandedly, "And brutally kill the men inside."

Sir Malachite declared, "Plan B."

Lady Glimmer wanted to know, "When was there a Plan A in the event of concealed getaway jet?"

"Hush." Zooming forward, Sir Malachite activated the feature in his boots to secure a landing on top of the mini jet.

"Gracious," was all Lady Garnet could say to the image the move created.

Lady Glimmer desperately wished for a camera to record the most unusually bodacious surfing style she had ever witnessed. Granted, she had no doubt that the sight of her brother jerking sporadically with the craft would be forever singed into her memory bank.

Getting some kind of grip on things, Sir Malachite used his sword to force open the craft's storage compartment. With his suit's durability, he managed to pry out the steel container. He rocketed back to the Ladies, who helped support its weight. However, like a venomous creature on the prowl, the undeterred plane made an aerial U-turn to come back at them.

"Stop," from overhead, the suit of ivory armor descended, "right there!" Activating a button on his glove caused a transparent white shield to form from it. The nose of the plane proved unable to penetrate. "Thanks much." From his waist, he retrieved a spear with electrified tip and sunk it into the plane's engine.

The two inside immediately ejected from their seats before the machine could collapse.

Flying with the adults towards the white masked individual, a smile could be heard in Glimmer's voice. "Nate?"

"Actually," he opened his mask in confirmation, "it's- tada- Count Domino!"

Lady Garnet wanted to know, "Where in the world did you get that uniform? I somehow doubt Dr. Octavius personally bestowed it upon you."

"Well, no… but I did configure it based off his original design specs. It took me two weeks to work through the glitches, but," he twirled in air, "pretty snazzy, eh?"

"You…" Elation made up Sir Malachite's voice. "Got the shields operational!"

"Oh yes, yes. Here." With their hands full, Count Domino applied the circular devices to magnetize with their gloves. "Through reverse engineering, I realized it was a matter of mech—"

"Gents, if you don't mind," Glimmer piped up, "this box is not filled with pillows."

"Right, sorry. Allow me, Ladies." Count Domino took their holds on it, detailing his findings to Sir Malachite as they headed for ground level.

II

Cutting onto a deserted road, the white van did not decrease in speed for a moment. Lord Onyx and Earl Azurite likewise stayed in hot pursuit of it.

"Aim for the tires."

"No," Onyx automatically shot down. "We can't risk a misfire." He zeroed in on the rear window. "Azurite, activate your thrusters."

Clicking the appropriate switch on his boot, the teen had no idea if this would be very good or very bad. However, he easily concluded it would be memorable. Like twin missiles, they tore through and shattered the class. They quickly turned off their boots to avoid any possible chemical reaction.

The van's passenger twisted in his seat, his incredulity almost visible through his face covering. "Oh, you have to be fucking me right now." Getting up, he raised the handle of a dagger and switched on its energy current.

Azurite reminded snidely, "I do hope your final wish is to be burned alive because that's exactly what will happen if we lose control of our weapons with this cargo underfoot."

Swearing to himself, the aggressive older male nonetheless powered down his dagger. He next opted to rush at them. The Earl went after him as well. The resulting tackle combined with vehicle turbulence sent them both to the floor. With Azurite more than content to exchange blows with the stocky individual, Lord Onyx crept towards the driver's seat. The one behind the wheel gagged at the abrupt constriction around his throat, which only tightened at his struggling.

Voice low and purposeful, Onyx ordered, "Pull over." He yanked on the whip currently acting as noose. "Or you can choke on your own blood while I pull over." Gripping the wheel, the reddening driver forced it into a rough stop. "Very wise."

After commandeering their keys and weaponry, Onyx and Azurite deposited them none-too-gently onto the side of the road. Maneuvering the van, they floored back to the loading dock. When they got there, they found not only their comrades already there with the case, but discovered another among them.

"Let me take a wild guess." Earl Azurite detached himself from the passenger's side of the van. "Nate?"

The cheerful boy turned around at their arrival. "How'd you know?"

Severe lack of height acting as the red herring, Azurite only replied, "Just a shot in the dark."

Lord Onyx came upon them next. "You followed us?"

Lady Garnet also sounded far from pleased. "He pieced together his own suit and snuck aboard."

"Call it a mixed blessing," asserted Sir Malachite. "He figured out the problem with the shield mechanism I've been working on."

"You should have seen him up there," Glimmer raved. "Nate is a topnotch knight."

"Thank you, Lady Glim. And for the record, I am now Count Domino." He bowed grandly.

Onyx placed his attention on Malachite. Their masked gazes met, but not a word sounded.

Breaking through the intense silent spell, Azurite reminded them, "We need to get these chemicals into safekeeping."

The six reanimated right away to rocket the crates up to the plane's storage.

Once they finished, Malachite came to stand between the two pilot chairs to activate the radio. "Seizure complete, Otto. We're on our way back now."

"Best news of the night," the scientist's voice returned. "By the way, we seem to have misplaced something and were wondering if you happened to have stumbled across it. 5'3, Eyes of blue, hair of rich coffee, head of brick."

"We have Nate right here," Malachite confirmed. "He joined us on my authorization, ensuring tonight's success. Kindly inform my father of this."

"As you would have it," Otto responded good-naturedly. "We'll see you soon, Lords and Ladies."

Dividing their masks, Lady Glimmer and Count Domino exchanged a smile. Though he kept focus up front, Lord Onyx still regarded the blonde in green out of the corner of his eye.

IIIIIII

In plain clothes once again, the eight regrouped in the auditorium. Otto and Winston observed from the seats. Felicia and Byron stood off to the side of the stage near the flag stand. Chris paced back and forth, addressing the teenage line-up.

"I can't thank you enough for the skill, resiliency, and quick-thinking you displayed tonight. As young as you are, you clearly comprehend the values of teamwork. That being said," Chris countenance dimmed, "I'll remind you that what we do has nothing to do with heroism, good citizenship, or justice. We take these risks entirely to safeguard our own. Mutants are our own; our families, our friends, our kind. Love, selfishness, whatever you want to call it, it's what we do and why we're here. Cordy, Fabian, I know this isn't easy where you're concerned, but we still want all three of you with us. We'll gladly accept part-time."

"I'm with you, Chris." Cordelia looked towards Felicia and Byron. "All of you."

"Without a doubt," Nate seconded eagerly.

They both turned eyes on the remaining one.

Fabian brought his gaze up. "Fight for mutants?"

Chris nodded. "Fight for mutants."

"Then congratulations," Fabian sent out a hand, "I'm in."

Chris accepted his appendage in a shake. Cordelia grinned and Nate threw up his arms victoriously.

"Unbelievable. X-Girl and…" Cordelia blinked as realization set in. "What is the name of this team, anyway?"

Hand on hip, Felicia said, "That's a good question. We've more or less played it by ear thus far."

Otto proposed, "The Sinister Six? It leaves an impression if nothing else."

"Hm, does have a nice ring, doesn't it?" Winston concurred.

Chris resisted an eye roll. "Can we please distinguish ourselves from the criminal underworld?"

"I'll say," supported Felicia. "Honestly, of all things; a band of sinister courtiers."

Cordelia's eyes widened with delight. "Felicia, that's brilliant. The Courtiers."

"So ace," Nate agreed.

"It's doable," said Fabian. "Though I didn't mind the sinister bit myself."

"For this plight the Courtiers take flight. With strength and conviction do they fight. Mutant-human brethren they will soon unite." Receiving their stares again, Otto informed, "One of mine. My signature is a horrendous lack of quality."

When the older men came on stage to converse with the youngsters, Chris and Byron started down the right hand steps of the stage. Glancing over his shoulder, Chris eyed Felicia. She returned his gaze, but remained in place. Chris continued off stage and exited through the double doors after Byron.

"I'm staggered by today's success." Chris' entire form appeared to radiate with positivity. "And I mean well beyond intercepting the shipment. In a single night, the team has doubled and Cordy…" He shook his head with a fond smile. "Baby Sis the formidable ally." They entered the stairwell to climb to the leisure floor, which carried offices as well as common rooms. "All of them turned out to be big surprises."

"Particularly you."

Sitting on the sofa, Chris looked up in puzzlement. "What do you mean, Ron?"

"Showering Nate with kudos?" Byron sat on the edge of the wide coffee table, facing him. "What do you have planned for tomorrow? Going to buy him a pack of smokes and let him pick out his own hooker maybe?"

Chris chuckled dryly. "Ron, come on. You don't know my father as well as I do. He would have blown the situation completely out of proportions."

"My beef isn't you keeping it from Winston," Byron said matter-of-factly. "Because I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt, figuring you wanted to deal with him yourself. But allowing him on the team after disregarding specific orders? What are you thinking? Really, I want to know."

"Nate proved himself tonight," Chris insisted. "He can focus when he cares enough about something. He only needed the chance to be seen and heard."

"Oh, okay, I see." Byron laced his fingers thoughtfully. "So, it's completely justifiable- celebration worthy even- for a child to defy his mentor, host-father, professor, senior team members, fool around with complex equipment, stowaway, and involve himself in the middle of combat so long as it all works out in the end."

"That is not what I meant and you know it."

"No, but it's what he likely thinks now. Nate is so impressionable and he looks up to you. If he is not penalized for an infraction this severe, he's going to get it in his head that he can do as he pleases. As intelligent as he is, he is still a fifteen-year-old boy in need of rules and boundaries."

Chris scoffed acrimoniously. "You and my father really need to co-author a book one of these days."

Byron emphasized in frustration, "Do not try to turn this around on your father, Chris. I don't want to hear it right now. This is about you. And Nate. You are our leader and you have to act like it, especially now that we've got these kids on the team. You're right about your sister and, for whatever asinine reason, I have a good feeling about Fabian. What example does it set for them to see Nate let off the hook like this?"

"Ron…" Chris ran a weary hand through his hair. "I will talk to Nate. I'm going to explain that tonight is not allowed to happen again, period."

Byron bobbed his head. "Good. And Chris, I'm not trying to step on your toes here. You started this. You're our leader. But this junior set just amplified our responsibilities. Kids are funny that way."

"So, what's for tomorrow, Lords?" They looked to where the feminine form stepped forward under the florescent lights. "Senior citizens' breakfast or a rousing game of bingo?" She used a sofa arm to sit on.

Chris smiled up at her. "I might have to look into a chiropractor. Unless your generous nature compels you to distribute free massages…"

"Absolutely." A smirking Felicia returned to her feet. "I owe my cat something for having to wait up for me this late."

Byron snorted and Chris accused, "Ice cold, Miss Hardy."

She came back with, "I suppose you'd be the expert, Mr. Frost."

Chris' face contorted at the sudden sour taste in his mouth. "Please, "Mr. Frost" is downstairs."

"And Mr. Niko desperately needs to call it a night. Cutting it close as is." Byron arose, flexing an arm. "Good night, fellow… Courterians."

Chris raised an eyebrow. "Courterians? Please don't feel the need to showcase your infinite legal jargon on our account."

Not bothering to look back, Byron simply countered, "Sue me, tech geek," and strolled onward.

With a short laugh, Chris stood austerely. "Do you think I was too easy on Nate?"

"To an absurd degree."

"… You couldn't even feign neutral ambiguity?"

Felicia replied, "Unfortunately for you, you possess too much of my respect."

Chris remarked, "Only you can plunge the knife and restore the wound in sixty seconds or less."

"I do what I can, usually." Seriousness came to her blue eyes. "Chris, I can get behind Nate joining us and I know as leader and mentor, you want to be as encouraging as possible. I really admire that. You'll find the right balance. We all will. Because we have no choice."

"Mild infliction," he noted, "very nice." He gave her a small smile. "I really couldn't do this without you and Ron. Though if he ever desires an extended holiday, who am I to deny it?"

With an amused shake of her head, Felicia took his right arm for herself. "Walk me to my car."

"As honor binds me, m'Lady." Flicking off the lights as they went, Chris proceeded to the elevator with her.

IIIIIII

Plate of warm cookies in her possession, the girl had to take the time to explain to the barking Courage and Beauty that chocolate would show them no kindness. She continued on through the main level hall, finding her brother stationed at the French writing desk.

Leaning back in his seat in a stretch, Chris noticed her. "How are you possibly still awake?"

"Look who has room to talk." Cordelia placed the chocolate chips on the one clear spot on the desk. "Low sugar."

In appreciation, Chris said, "You really are a Godsend… when you want to be."

Sticking her tongue out briefly, Cordelia squatted near his chair. "So, this is why you were "out of town"? Why you've been so hard to reach?"

"Cordy, I'm sorry." He cupped her chin. "I never meant to make you feel ignored. It's like I've developed a split-personality. For Malachite to be most effective, Chris Frost has to jet off to Paris, the Rockies, Los Angeles- complete with credit card trail- periodically."

"When you said you wanted to infiltrate anti-mutant activity, I never dreamed it would lead to anything like this."

"That makes two of us," Chris concurred.

She smiled at a thought. "When Joey finds out you have your own squadron straight out of the legends of Arthur, he's going to be over the moon in a whole other galaxy."

Chris' face darkened. "Cordy, you mustn't tell the family what we're doing. Why do you think I've kept it quiet for so long? If Emma learns I'm in this deep, she will have my head. And I cannot risk Charles' and certainly not Erik's interference. Father was not dramatizing earlier. If the true nature of so much as one person I care about comes to light, I'll be the next target. And they will do any and everything until I reveal you all." A sardonic smile toyed on his lips. "A slow, painful death if there ever was one."

"Don't even joke like that," Cordelia insisted. "And don't worry. I understand the risks. Even if he won't say it, I know Fabian does as well."

Chris then ventured, "Does this mean you're coming home?"

"Home," Cordelia echoed with dry amusement. "Which one is that exactly?" She turned doleful. "I wish I knew, Big Bro. So much is happening at once."

Chris applied a comforting touch to her upper back. "You, too, eh? Slow down a little. You'll figure it out. Even when you take a stumble, you always seem to pick yourself up straightaway."

"Thanks, Chris." A gleam appeared in the girl's eyes. "Maybe I could try talking to Felicia. Which is surprisingly easy."

"Isn't it?" Bending, Chris kissed her head. "Good night, Baby Sis."

Rising to peck his cheek in turn, Cordelia skipped to the stairs.

Yet another hour of layout plans in front of him with his mind elsewhere, Chris devoured three/fourths of a cookie in a single bite. Courage came through, relaxing by his feet.

Discovering the one roosting on the top step, Cordelia stopped to linger by him. "Seems all the men in my life have gone the way of the night owl."

Eyes swelled to explosive proportions and head only held up by his hands, Fabian continuously gaped as he spoke. "Cordelia, did I actually take up arms with your non-mutated brother, a socialite, and a lawyer originating from a country no teacher ever points to on the map, co-pilot an unfamiliar aircraft, partake in a high-speed chase after lethal chemicals without my powers and regular equipment, while wearing stylish body armor designed by an eccentric physics professor?"

"In a nutshell, yes," she nodded.

"And it was… cool?"

"Extremely."

Fabian's eyes twitched now. "And we agreed to an alliance with them?"

"The Courtiers, yes," Cordelia specified.

He moved his head to face her. "Have we taken complete and total leave of our senses?"

She replied sincerely, "I believe we have… Earl Azurite."

Fabian nearly whimpered as he hung his head. "Christ's mercy, codenames…"

Cordelia leaned on him closely. "No, no. Think of them as titles."

"Oh excellent, you're both still up!" The fifteen-year-old clamped down on them by throwing his arms over each. "Honestly, who can sleep after a night like this? And I can't tell you how nice it is to have other kids around this place." Nate squeezed them both in his glee. "It's like a pajama party. Who's for Clue?"

Eyebrows quirking, Cordelia zipped up and off they dashed down the hall.

Prying himself from the stairs to begrudgingly follow, Fabian cast his gaze Heavenly. Dios, por qué me has abandonado?