Disclaimer: The X-men are the property of Marvel which is the property of Disney. I am neither of these organizations. Cheyenne, however, is my brain-child.

Comments/criticism are welcome but I ask that all criticism be constructive.

Hugs to all my readers! :)

Once again Cheyenne Jackson found herself perusing the shelves of the mansion's library. Her mood, however, was a far cry from the restlessness she'd experienced earlier. Instead, she felt rather, well, giddy.

'He was hitting on me.' She pulled a recent edition of Tolkien from the shelf that was composed of all three books of The Lord Of The Rings trilogy. A grin crossed the Texan's face as she continued down the row of books. 'It's definitely a good feeling to have someone think you're attractive.' Pausing, Cheyenne considered the shelf now in front of her. 'Agatha Christie…I wonder if they have…' She ran her fingers lightly across the spines of the novels, eyes questing for a specific title. "Ah-hah!" She crowed happily, pulling Death Comes As The End from the shelf.

Although she was fond of Agatha Christie's work in general, as a student of history Cheyenne naturally gravitated towards the archaeologically and historically themed mysteries. Death Comes As The End stood out as her favorite probably as it was unique in being set in ancient Egypt.

'I wonder if he's read it before.' Cheyenne pondered. 'At any rate, we can compare opinions.' The smile that hadn't seemed to be too far from her lips for the past half-hour resurfaced. Settling her newest selection into the small pile in her arms, a thought struck her. 'I don't have any doubt that he'll read all of these.' The smile on her face widened and she let out a small light-hearted laugh. 'If I had handed these to Jack all they would've done would be catch dust. Even if he wasn't stuck in the Med Lab, I'm sure Mort would read these.' Pleased at this comparison, Cheyenne adjusted the stack of books to fit more comfortably in her arms and, deciding that Beast had probably finished assisting Toad with his shower, headed toward the library's polished wooden doors.

"Beast?" Cheyenne called out as she entered.

"Back here, my dear."

Heading towards the cultured voice, Myth walked past the beds and made her way towards the examination room, where the Med Bay shower was located, and off of which Hank's office was situated. The Texan was feeling an odd mixture of pride and shyness. Cheyenne was proud of herself for keeping her wings in for the longest period of time while awake - almost two and a half hours. The shyness was a result of the cut-off period of her personal record. Toad hadn't seen her with her wings extended since he'd slept on her lap in a state of exhaustion caused by pain, mild starvation and drugs and she was feeling much like a thirteen-year old girl who'd just gotten braces and was now facing her first day at school. 'I'm being ridiculous.' Cheyenne told herself as she paused a few feet before the door of the examining room. 'Mort's a mutant too. He's green, for heaven's sake. He's not going to care.' Strengthened on this thought, Myth stood up tall, shifted the books in her arms so she could grasp the door knob in her hand and opened the door.

All personal thoughts fled from her mind as she took in Toad, face scrunched in discomfort, and eyes shut, as he lay on an examining table clad in a sweat suit emblazoned with the school's emblem . "Are you alright?" She inquired in concern, glancing between the green mutant and Hank, who was standing behind the table with his furry arms crossed.

"Mr. Toynbee has just learned that when a doctor tells a patient to stay put that it would behoove the patient to stay put."

" 'M foot felt fine. And it's Toad." Mort grumbled, opening his eyes to take in Myth, and feeling some balm for his now-aching foot in the obvious concern in the tone of her voice.

"Your foot felt fine because you are on pain medication." Hank stated dryly. "I suppose you feel like driving and operating heavy machinery as well."

"If I needed ta, I would." Toad replied, eying Cheyenne appreciatively. " 'Specially if she told me to." He punctuated his remark with a nod of his head in the winged mutant's direction, a sly grin pulling up the corners of his lips. His grin widened smugly as a blush lit up Myth's face and she smiled shyly back at him. In response to the widening of his grin, his sore lip twanged irritably, reminding him of the swift disciplinary smack to the back of the hand or knuckles that some of the nuns at the orphanage were wont to dispense with a ruler during lessons. This reminder was strengthened in Mort's mind by correlating it to the definite non-nun appropriate lines his thoughts, which had been veering towards a popular lingerie store named after a beloved British monarch in conjunction to the woman before him along the themes of 'avenging angel', had been following.

"Well then," Cheyenne shot back, fighting down the blush that had swamped her pale cheeks, "if you're doing things just because I tell you to then I'm telling you to do what Hank says."

"Alrigh', love, but that's nowhere near as fun."

"It's certainly better for your health at the moment though." Beast quipped, moving forward. "Now hold still. Myth, would you please hold his foot upright and still while I shift him back towards the sink?"

Complying with the blue doctor's request, Myth deposited the small stack of books in her arms on the end of the examining table and gently, and somewhat hesitantly, placed one hand around Mort's ankle and the other at the heel of his foot.

Once Cheyenne had lifted Toad's foot lightly off the table, Beast easily picked him up and shifted him so that his head was resting at the edge of the metallic sink embedded at the end of the examining table.

"There we are." He reached a hand out the sink, tapping the nozzles on either side of the faucet in turn. "Hot and cold. And," he reached down to the cabinet below the table and rummaged about for a few moments before emerging with a comb in one hand and a bottle of shampoo in another, "this should cover you. We use this table for lice treatments and screenings."

"Lovely." Toad muttered.

"Perfect." Cheyenne replied, taking the proffered implements. "We're all set then."

"Well, if you're fine down here, I may go upstairs for a snack."

"Feel free, I think Storm was headed to the kitchen to make some tea." The Texan said, recalling seeing the serene white-haired woman on her way to the elevator.

"Oh, a cup of tea would be wonderful!" Beast remarked, smiling and bringing a knowing smile to the face of the female who was moving to the sink in turn. "Buzz me on the intercom once you're done and I'll come down to move Toad back to his bed." Hank addressed the winged mutant, gesturing to the call button. "Don't you dare think of getting up yourself." He added, shifting his gaze to Toad. "I have no compunctions about strapping patients to their beds if the need arises."

"I've 'ad enough experience with 'ospital beds and straps to last a lifetime, thanks." Mort shot back as the blue-furred mutant exited the room.

"I believe it." Cheyenne agreed somberly, fingers hovering hesitantly above the thick mass of curly black hair before her. "Seeing you strapped up to that gurney was one of the worst things I've ever seen. If I had any doubts about the necessity of stopping the Friends of Humanity then that killed them. It made me glad I'd joined the X-men."

Mort tilted his head backwards to view the woman behind him. A devilish glint came into his golden eyes as they darted between the fingers hovering above his hair and the slightly bashful look that came across her face under his scrutiny.

"I was debating whether it would be easier to wash your hair and then comb it or comb it, then wash it." Cheyenne explained, seeking a lighter mood and feeling a little flushed under his gaze. 'Way to suck all the happiness out of a room.' She chided herself.

"Whatever you like, love." Mort replied, smiling up at her slyly. "Feel free ta break out the straps and 'ave your way with me."

"Oh!" Cheyenne practically yelped as her wings twitched in her surprise, knocking the shampoo bottle from where she'd placed it on the edge of the table. Bending down and scooping up the fallen bottle, Cheyenne emerged red-faced to face the green-skinned mutant with his head still tilted back, observing her through golden eyes. 'Oh dagnabit! Now he's going to think I'm some sort of spaz! He was the one to surprise me though. No one's ever really hit on me before other than Jack and never like that and he definitely wasn't teasing, he was flirting and oh goodness he's looking at me. Calm down, just calm down.' She told herself, feeling embarrassed and flustered.

Toad, meanwhile, was enjoying the sight of the pretty woman with wings his favorite color standing before him clasping a shampoo bottle, blushing fiercely.

"Ah-hem." Cheyenne cleared her throat, flicking her wings out a bit and then tucking them back neatly behind her. "Sorry, I'm still learning how to control these." She swallowed, and tucked an errant strand of dark brown hair behind her ear. "I appreciate your trust in me though." She continued, the smirk of a woman who has just thought of an appropriate comeback causing her lips to pull upwards at the edges. "So I'll wash your hair then comb it."

Toad let out a dramatic gusty sigh as he settled his head back down. "No straps?"

"I don't think the straps will be needed." Cheyenne replied with dignity as she fiddled with the faucets. Testing the water temperature with a few fingers, the winged mutant adjusted the knobs a little more until she was satisfied that the water was pleasantly warm without being too scalding hot. Reaching forward, Cheyenne gently took hold of Mort's tangled, grimy curls and held them under the flow. "Mort, could you scoot back just a little?"

In response Mort wiggled back an inch, grunting a bit as he inadvertently jostled his bandaged foot. "Good?"

"Perfect, sorry." Cheyenne replied, holding her left hand along the border between his forehead and hair as she soaked his dirty hair with warm water. "I know your foot must be sore." Inwardly she berated herself, 'I should've lifted his foot up for him so he could move back to where I needed him.'

Mort's immediate response to this statement was a sigh of contentment so soft it was barely audible even to Cheyenne's elevated hearing as she began to gingerly massage his scalp and knead her fingers through his hair to ensure it was thoroughly wet. "So the wings then," he spoke after Cheyenne removed her hands from his hair to reach for the shampoo bottle, "that's yer mutation?"

"Yep." Myth confirmed, dispensing a generous amount of shampoo into the tangled black mass of Toad's hair. "I also have heightened senses and talons in my heels and elbows. Your basic dragon." She added, laughing a little shyly and feeling a bit like a first grader at show and tell.

"And dragons are mythological creatures-myths, Myth." Toad mused, eyes closing in delight as Cheyenne began to massage his scalp again as she brought the shampoo to a lather. "My guess was tha' you made illusions or sommat similar."

"Nope, purely physical mutation." Cheyenne reached for the shampoo bottle and squirted out a little more into her hand as she began to work on the hair around the base of his head. "At least as far as I know."

"Handy tha' you can retract 'em though." Mort remarked, a tinge of bitterness creeping into his tone. "Must 'ave given you plenty of trouble when they first popped out." He continued, recalling his own troubles when his tongue had first shot out of his mouth. A wince crossed his face in remembrance, he'd certainly lacked technique and control in those early days. 'Got me in a fair share of trouble too.' The emergence of his tongue had cemented the opinion of those nuns at the orphanage who thought he was a demon or cursed and in the end had ended up with him fleeing the stone building that he'd lived in since the day of his birth.

"Sorry, am I jostling you too much?" Cheyenne inquired, catching his wince.

"You're fine ,love."

Regardless of his reply, Cheyenne took extra care to be as gentle as possible as she began to rinse his hair. "They did give me plenty of trouble." She agreed, returning to his earlier comment. 'And cost me my favorite pair of sandals. I wonder what happened to them.' Cartoon-like she envisioned them dropping from the sky onto someone's windshield or head. 'It could have been much worse than a lost pair of shoes and a couple of hours in a cave though.' She glanced up at Mort, the bitterness that had crept into his tone hadn't gone unnoticed. 'He can't go anywhere unless he's completely covered up. Neither can Kurt or Hank for that matter, but they're not quite so touchy about it. Something must have happened to make him so bitter.'

"How old were you?"

A small smile came to Cheyenne's face. "I'm twenty-two."

Toad's yellow eyes opened as he processed this statement. "Bloody 'ell love, how long 'ave you known?"

"A little over a month now." Cheyenne considered, doing some mental math. "As near as we've been able to figure out though, my mutation actually manifested when I was fourteen." A small pang entered her heart as the image of a fourteen-year old Jack peering concernedly at her came to her mind. "Apparently I was subconsciously repressing my powers; I used to have the most awful headaches." Peace came back to her as she realized her regret for Jack was only for the loss of what she'd thought he'd been. 'What he really is, I don't regret at all. Fitting how my headaches began and ended with him.'

"I can imagine." Mort replied. "Explains why you're still learning how to control them, too." He rolled his eyes back to catch a glimpse of the woman now turning off the faucet. 'She must be somethin' else with those wings if Xavier let 'er go out with the X-men after only knowin' about her powers for a month.' Now feeling justified beyond a desire to keep the girl who he could make blush around, Toad felt it was time to warm her up to the Cause - Magneto could only be contained for so long, after all. "You were sayin' that the Friends of Humanity needed to be stopped, righ' love?"

"They do." Cheyenne remarked, wringing out his hair in an effort to get rid of the extra moisture. "Why do you ask?"

"It's not just the F.o.H. tha' need to be stopped. There're lots of people out there who'd happily support th' extermination of all mutants."

"There probably are." Cheyenne agreed evenly, separating a strand of his hair for combing. "But there are probably just as many who would happily support an integrated, accepting society." As gently as possible Myth began to run the black plastic teeth through Toad's inky hair. 'Trying to seduce me to the dark side, eh?'

Toad snorted. "Xavier's a good man, but him and the X-men…their goals are abou' as likely as me getting voted world's sexiest man."

"I'm a historian."

This non sequitur prompted Toad to tilt his head back once again to lock his gaze on eyes the color of the ocean.

"And if there's one thing I've learned," Cheyenne continued, "it's that nothing is impossible. Improbable maybe, but never impossible." Finishing the strand she'd been working on, Myth cleaned out the comb and began on another strand of hair, breaking eye contact with the green skinned mutant laying on the examining table.

"Improbable." Mort repeated, shaking his head. "Tell me, love, 'ow many of the people you knew from before still want anything to do with you?"

"I call my dad every day and keep in pretty much the same level of communication with my closest friends as before." Cheyenne paused as she tried to dislodge a particularly stubborn tangle as gently as possible. "Granted, I think they're all still adjusting to various degrees but I am too."

"You mentioned your dad, but what abou' your mom? And your friends-'ow many did you lose because you were different? Do you think the ones you kept would willingly walk down the street with you when you 'ave those wings out?" Mort persisted.

"If there was a need, they would." Cheyenne replied firmly. "I have three best friends. I used to have four before I knew I was a mutant, but my ex-boyfriend became my ex-friend when I walked in on him with another girl."

'What idiot would cheat on her.' Mort thought distantly, listening to the slight drawl in the woman's voice thicken in her passionate reply.

"That shock was part of how I found out about my mutation, but Jack never knew and to my knowledge doesn't know I'm a mutant so his ceasing to be my friend is hardly relevant. My mom…" Cheyenne trailed off, realizing she was waving the comb around. Composing herself, she returned her attention to Mort's hair. "My mother and older brother were killed in a car crash when I was six." She stated quietly as she ran the black plastic through Toad's curly hair. "Drunk driver. They wouldn't have cared though - either of them. Who knows, Johnny may have turned out to be a mutant too." She paused and continued in a normal tone of voice. "There are good and bad among all people Mort, mutant or not. I've never even met my maternal grandparents because they disapproved of my mother marrying my father - and he's a perfectly normal human being."

"I get your point, love but that still doesn't make the idea of an integrated society of humans and mutants any less improbable." Mort replied, pondering all that he'd just heard.

"Well," Cheyenne smiled, "I did just get you to go from thinking of it as improbable rather than impossible."

"This is the place." Bobby stated, confirming the address the professor had given them with the faded numbers on the side of the building.

"We won't have to worry about people reporting suspicious activity." Jubilee remarked, eying the dilapidated building.

"Uh-huh." Tabby agreed.

"Yo' should never judge a book by its cover." Gambit advised. "Just its contents."

"So moralizes the thief." Rogue commented dryly from the passenger seat of the black SUV the five X-men were currently situated in.

"It's sound wisdom, chere." Remy's red eyes twinkled mischievously as he turned into the parking lot adjoining the run-down apartment building. " 'Specially for a thief-people come up with interesting places to hide their valuables." He pulled into a parking spot barely denoted by barely visible white paint among the cracked cement.

"Inside a book?" Bobby asked skeptically. "Isn't that a little, I don't know, "Scooby-Doo"?"

"Jus' call me Fred." Gambit turned off the car and shot a grin to those in the back seat.

"Ah don't think you could pull off Fred, sugah." Rogue remarked, handing the box of garbage bags she'd pulled from the supply closet before leaving the mansion to Jubilee, who stashed them in her fashionably oversized purse.

"Scott would be Fred and Jean would be Daphne." Tabby agreed.

"Scott's not a blonde though." Bobby pointed out.

"But personality-wise." Tabby persisted.

"Well, yeah, I could see it." Bobby admitted.

"And Jean would be a dead ringer for Daphne." Jubilee put in. "She could so pull off that purple mini-dress."

"More power to her." Rogue stated.

"Awww, chere, yo' don't want to be my Daphne?"

"Ah like the color purple, but Ah don't love it to the point Ah want to wear it everyday."

"You could pull off purple though." Jubilee mused thoughtfully. "You really need to broaden your color wheel." The petite Asian girl snapped her fingers. "Group shopping trip!" She declared.

"Ohhh!" Tabby nodded in agreement.

Rogue sighed as she unbuckled her seatbelt and Gambit chuckled as he opened his door, prompting the Mississippi girl to level a glare at the Cajun. "Don't mock mah pain, swamp rat."

"But you'd look so pretty in purple, river rat." Remy replied smoothly. "But then yo' are beautiful so you look pretty in just abou' anything."

Rogue rolled her eyes at this, but a small smile graced her face as she climbed out of the car.

"Awwww!" Jubilee remarked, momentarily side-tracked from the shopping trip she was now planning.

"Uhhhh!" Bobby countered, groaning. "I'm going to get a cavity from all the sweetness."

"You're just jealous." Tabby dismissed with a nonchalant wave of her hand.

Conversing spiritedly the five X-men made their way to the dilapidated apartment building to see if the Friends of Humanity had left anything in the tiny, run-down apartment formerly occupied by the mutant known as Toad.

"Let's be chill about moving the stuff out just in case there're any law-abiding citizens at home." Tabby cautioned quietly as the group moved towards a creaky set of stairs after noting an out-of-order sign on the elevator.

"During the day-time?" Bobby remarked. "Wouldn't they all be at work?"

"Not necessarily." Jubilee shot back.

"Strippers." Tabby stated decidedly.

"Since when are strippers law-abiding citizens?"

"Since when are strippers not law-abiding citizens?" Gambit countered. "Remember the stirring tale of Mata Hari that Myth told us?"

"Just be cautious, Bobby." Rogue instructed, bemused.

"Remember Mata Hari!" Gambit announced, raising his hand dramatically in the air as he started to ascend the stairs.

"This is positively delicious!" Beast enthused as he sipped his second cup of tea.

"Why thank you, Hank." Ororo replied, pleased as she sipped her own cup. "I always add just a hint of mint."

"Its very refreshing." The blue-furred doctor sighed as he took another sip of tea. "We should take tea together more often."

"We should indeed." Ororo agreed, smiling at the man across from her.

"Hank." A voice stated softly over the intercom.

"Ah, Cheyenne must be finished washing Toad's hair."

"Yes." Storm tapped the side of her cup in deliberation. "But why is she whispering over the intercom?"

"I'm all finished with Mort's hair, but he fell asleep halfway through me combing out the tangles so please be quiet when you enter the lab." The Texan's voice came over the intercom in a hushed whisper.

"Well, that explains it." Beast remarked in amusement. Standing, he drained the last of his tea and carried his cup and saucer to the sink.

"Indeed, it does." Storm replied thoughtfully.

"Thank you again for the tea, Ororo." Beast gave the white-haired woman a grin which quickly became almost goofy in its proportions as she smiled back, prompting her own smile to soften sweetly.

"Anytime, Hank." As the blue mutant headed towards the med bay, Storm rose from the kitchen table and, after placing her cup and saucer in the sink, pulled down a clean cup from the cupboard. Humming softly under her breath, she poured out a generous serving of tea from the teapot into the cup. Carefully the weather witch placed the cup on a saucer and carrying both, exited the kitchen and headed towards the only other tea aficionado residing in the mansion.

Still humming under her breath, the woman shifted the saucer to her left hand as she raised her right to knock on the oak of the door leading to Charles Xavier's study.

"Come in."

"Cup of tea, Charles?" The white-haired mutant offered.

"Oh, splendid. Thank you Ororo." The telepath answered, taking the proffered cup.

"Mort?" Storm inquired, a teasing lilt to her voice as the older man took a sip of his tea. "Match-making again, Professor?"

"Me? A match-maker?" The telepath questioned innocently, flashing the weather witch a charming smile. "Nonsense. If I occasionally see two people who would do well together then, perhaps, arrange for them to spend a little time together that's hardly match-making."

"Mmm-hmmm." Storm hummed knowingly.

"Speaking of which," the professor said as he took another sip of his tea, "how was tea with Hank?"

"Wonderful." Storm admitted with a smile. "Things are going very well."