By the time Lance was fully awake, the first scream had tailed off. "Shit," he muttered, climbing out of bed and groping about the floor for his jeans. By the time the second scream started, Kitty was sitting bolt upright in bed, wrapped in a blanket.

"Lance?" She asked tentatively.

Lance shook his head. "Nothing you need to worry about, Kitty," he said. "I'll take care of it."

"What's going on? That sounded like Toad."

"Nothing he'd want me to talk about," Lance said, pulling on his jeans and heading for the door. "Go back to sleep, okay? We'll be fine."

Out in the hallway, he bumped into Blob. The large mutant wore a pair of extra large pajamas, look of trepidation on his face. He was also, Lance carefully did not notice, carrying a worn and tattered teddy bear. "Sounds bad," said Freddy.

"Yeah," said Lance with a sigh. "I might need you to grab him." He pushed open Toad's door. "Tolanski!" He called, "We're coming in."

The younger mutant had stopped screaming, but he was clinging to the ceiling in the corner of the room, whimpering slightly and shaking like a leaf. Lance nodded to Freddy, who gently plucked the diminutive boy off the ceiling. Toad shrieked again and kicked at Freddy, but the larger boy absorbed the blows without evidently noticing them.

"Calm down," said Lance, gripping Toad's arm. "It's us. You're safe. It's us."

Toad's final scream ended in a choked off sob, and Freddy gingerly set him down. "Come on," said Lance. "We'll get some cocoa."

Pietro was already zooming about the kitchen as they came in. Besides cocoa, he had assembled a plate of peanut-butter and marshmallow fluff sandwiches. He glanced up as the others came in. "Hey guys," he said nervously.

Lance nodded at him, and snagged a sandwich. "Anything you want to talk about?" He asked Toad.

Toad grinned sickly. "Not really," he said, staring into his cocoa.

Lance nodded again. "Fair enough," he said. The boys sat in silence for a long moment, sipping their cocoa and chewing on the sandwiches.

Toad finally let out a weak chuckle. "You'd think with everything we've done- Mystique, Magneto, Apocalypse… I wouldn't still be having nightmares about a bunch of punks with steel toed boots."

Lance winced as the others looked confused. They hadn't heard the story- how Mystique had found Toad, why he'd been so willing to throw his allegiance to the abusive older mutant, and why Toad was so grateful for any scrap of human kindness. Lance only knew it because of that night, when Mystique was gone and the other boys and Rogue had yet to arrive, that he and Toad had gotten absurdly drunk on stolen wine coolers and lay on the roof talking for hours.

Lance told Toad the same thing he had then. "Wish I had some answers, Frog-boy."

Pietro zipped out of the kitchen and back. "Kitty's on her way down," he said.

Indeed, a moment later, she poked her head through the door. "I'm going to head out, Lance."

Lance stood up. "You need a ride?" He asked, but she shook her head.

"I'll take my bike," she said. "Walk me out, though?"

"I'm sorry," Lance said. "I wasn't planning on ditching you."

"No, it's okay," said Kitty. "The whole responsible sensitive team leader thing is like, actually, really hot. But the whole appeal of your bed is you being in it."

Lance leaned his forehead against hers. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"You know it, Alvers," Kitty said.

On his way back inside, Lance found the other Brotherhood boys in the living room. Toad was going through a pile of video cassettes and tossing them to Blob. "Yo," said Toad as he came in. "We figured we weren't gonna get back to sleep tonight, so we're gonna do a movie."

Lance nodded. "Pietro, you wanna put on-" before he finished speaking, he heard the sound of water pouring, and the click of the coffee maker turning on. "A pot of coffee."

Pietro gave him a smug smirk, and planted himself in the armchair- widely regarded as the best seat in the house. Blob held up a videotape. "How about 'Manos,' The Hands of Fate?"

Lance groaned. "If we're watching that, we need…" he looked at his hand, which suddenly held a bottle of beer.

"Three steps ahead of you," Pietro said. "Not that that's anything new."

"Yo," said Toad quietly, as he and Lance sank onto the ancient couch. "Sorry I ruined the big sleepover."

Lance shrugged. "Not like you did it on purpose," he said as the opening title came up on the screen.

"Besides," said Pietro, "They got most of the important stuff out of the way pretty early in the evening." He held two fingers up in front of his mouth and poked his tongue out between them.

"Pervert!" Said Lance, flinging a pillow at him. Pietro caught it and tucked it behind his head in a single blur of motion.

"Hey, I'm just glad someone's getting some here," the speedster said. "God knows I'm going through a serious dry spell. You'd think saving the world would count for something with the ladies."

"See, that's the sort of thing I really didn't need to know," said Lance.

"And I didn't need to know how many rock puns the X-geek had come up with about your junk," said Pietro, "But the walls are paper thin, so here we are."

"Quiet!" Said Freddy. "They're almost done with the driving sequence."

"Yeah," said Toad. "Torgo's going to be on soon!"

Pietro opened his mouth to say something, but was forestalled by a frantic pounding on the door. They boys glanced at each other. "For the love of god, open up!" Came a voice, tinged with more than a little of the scream.

Lance was on his feet. "Pietro, you're with me. Toad, Freddy, get ready to head out the back."

As his team scrambled to obey, Lance threw open the front door. The figure who had been pounding on it collapsed into the front room, and lay there prostrate on the floor. Two tall, thin, pale individuals stood behind him, a man with long, silvery hair, and a blonde woman with blood about her mouth. The woman smiled and slowly advanced on Lance. Her eyes were locked on his, and he suddenly felt his head swimming.

Then a siren sounded, in the distance but coming rapidly closer, and the two abruptly disappeared- one moment they were there, the next they were gone.

"Take this," gasped the man on the living room, and extended a hand clutching a small slip of paper. Without thinking, Lance extended his own hand and took the slip of paper, and the man fell back onto the carpet.

"Oshitoshitoshit," said Pietro, as he and Lance registered the blood staining the man's black turtleneck, evidently the result of the dozens of puncture wounds on his neck.

"Cleanest towels we have, right now!" Lance shouted. He knelt by the man, dropping the piece of paper as he pressed his hands to the side of the man's neck, trying to stem the flow of blood. In the instant- which felt like an eternity- before Pietro returned to shove a wad of dirty towels into his hand, the man stared at Lance and said "Fury had better be right about you."

Then he collapsed back to the ground.

"I told you everything," Lance said, glaring at the police officer, a large sandy haired and mustached man.

"You've told me nothing!" The man retorted. "A man drops dead on your doorstep, and I'm supposed to believe that you know nothing about it? He didn't say or do anything?"

"Yeah, he said, 'Help!'" said Lance. "And he made, you know, sort of a gurgling sound."

"You think this is funny?" The officer shouted, slamming the table and rising to his feet. Lance stared at him coolly- he was large and loud and clearly not feigning his anger, but Mystique he was not.

"All right, Kucharsky," a smaller, Latino detective came into the interview room. "Take a break."

"You're welcome to him, Ortega," growled the larger detective, leaving the room.

"Is this where you play good cop?" Lance asked.

Ortega shrugged, taking the seat vacated by the other man. "That's up to you, Mister Alvers. I just want you to think about one thing- whoever two were, they've already killed once. If we don't find them, you and your friends might be in danger."

Lance smirked back at the detective. "What else is new?" He asked.

Ortega sighed and sipped from a mug of coffee. "I know you haven't always been on the right side of the law, Mister Alvers," he said. "But after Apocalypse, the amnesty, you've done a good job of keeping your nose clean. A lot of people- my partner included- are just waiting for you to step out of line. They don't think that you can be anything but a hood. This is your chance to prove them wrong. Show them what a good, upstanding citizen you are. Anything that might have slipped your mind- this would be the time to tell us."

Lance met his gaze levelly. "Am I under arrest, Detective?" He asked. "Because if not- I'm leaving."

Lance glanced at the bloodstained piece of paper, confirming that he had read the address on it correctly, and then back at the blinking neon sign that proclaimed that the diner in front of him was "Stan's Place."

The address was correct, and the listed time was only a few minutes away. Shrugging to himself, he went inside. A smiling waitress quickly seated him, and he pored over the menu for a moment, before glancing at the paper again. Other than the time and place, listed in an a small, anonymous typeface, it was blank. He slipped it back into his pocket again, and glanced up.

A petite woman, with short cropped black hair, was sitting across from him, perusing her own menu. "What's a 'Kirby dot," do you think?" She asked.

"I think it's freeze dried ice cream," said Lance. "Oh, also, who the hell are you?"

"You can call me Daisy," she said. She glanced casually about the diner, and then set a small device on the table. "For the next few minutes, as far as everyone else in the diner is concerned, you and I are going to be talking about the weather, sports- nothing of consequence. During this period, it's vital that you do not leave the table, or you'll disrupt the hologram. Do you understand?"

"What if I do?"

Daisy's voice went very soft, and Lance had to lean forward to make out her next words. "That would be a mistake."

"Listen," said Lance, "I didn't talk to the cops. I didn't even tell my team where I was going. I don't want trouble with SHIELD. But I told Fury after New Mexico- I'm not coming back to work for you. As far as I'm concerned, you and he can go to hell."

Daisy snorted. "Wanda was right- you do have a problem with authority, don't you?"

"Is that supposed to impress me?" Lance asked. "Dropping Wanda's name like that? She wasn't ever really part of the team- she sure as hell split as soon as SHIELD made her a better offer."

"And you wouldn't- even though Fury made you the same offer. You told him to- well, I understand that it was colorful."

"Are you going to tell me anything I don't know?" Lance asked.

"You're coming to work for SHIELD," Daisy replied flatly.

"I'm leaving." Lance went to stand up.

"A man died to set up this meeting," said Daisy, her voice dangerously low again. "So sit your ass down."

Lance paused. "Fine," he said, lowering himself back into the seat. "But stop playing games. Why am I here?"

Daisy nodded, once. "Lately, SHIELD has been infiltrated by an extremely sophisticated enemy, who has proven able to turn even extremely loyal agents against us. Because the full extent to which the organization has been compromised is unknown, Fury's had to turn to outside resources. Your comments to Fury the last time he tried to recruit you for an official SHIELD mission are on file- even if someone has access to the SHIELD database, they won't be expecting Fury to use you."

"So I'm the perfect choice to work for SHIELD because of how unlikely it is that I would work for SHIELD?"

"Let me be perfectly clear," said Daisy. "I'm not asking you to work for SHIELD. My own name doesn't appear anywhere on official SHIELD files. If you accept this mission, it will be completely off the books. You'll be working directly for Fury, totally outside of the SHIELD bureaucracy. Believe me, that has its advantages."

"I've heard that before- and it didn't turn out well."

Daisy sighed. "I don't know exactly what happened between you and Fury in New Mexico." Lance opened his mouth to say something, but was forestalled by Daisy's raised hand. "And frankly, I don't give a damn. Whatever grudge you might be holding- this is more important." She paused, and produced a pen from a pocket, scribbling down a number on a piece of paper, and pushing it towards Lance. "Which is why Fury's authorized me to make you this offer."

Lance read the number, blinked, and read it again before answering. "If you've read my files, you should know," Lance pointed out, "Subtlety's never exactly been my area of expertise."

"Subtlety is where I come in," said Daisy. "Fury wants you along in case things get out of hand, and I need someone to bring down the house. We leave the first thing tomorrow morning- that will give you time to put your affairs in order."

"Hang on, I haven't said that I'll help you yet."

"Fine. You've seen the carrot- here's the stick. If I try this without you, and I fail, SHIELD's resources will fall into the hands of an immortal madman who hates mutants." She picked the device up from the center of the table, slipped it back into her pocket, and stood up. "Our time's up. I'll be here at five this evening to go over details for our departure. Pack light."

"So are you going?" Kitty asked. She sat next to Lance on a bench in the X-mansion's garden. "Just pick up and run off with Miss Junior SHIELD agent to who knows where?"

Lance shrugged. "Listen, I hate Fury more than most people- he's a bastard. But he's a scary bastard, you know? And by the sound of things, whatever's going on has him scared."

Kitty shivered. "You're right- that is a weird thought. I just hate that he can come in and take control of us just like that." She snapped her fingers.

"Well…" said Lance, with a slow smirk, "Would it help if I told you I was planning on being surly and sarcastic the whole time?"

Kitty giggled. "It definitely wouldn't hurt," she conceded. "But are you sure this isn't the sort of thing that we couldn't handle better with a whole team?"

"You mean your team," Lance pointed out. He sighed. "I don't know, honestly. I don't really know what's going on. But Fury does, and he seems to think I'm right for the job." He chuckled. "The bastard."

Kitty giggled again. "The bastard," she agreed. "Hey- whatever happens, if you need help…"

"I'll know who to call." He put his arm around her shoulders. "You mind if we just sit like this for a while?"

Kitty leaned her head on his shoulder. "I"d like that."

"You're going where?" Pietro asked flatly.

"Not sure yet," said Lance. "Might be gone for a while, though. Think you can keep those two out of trouble for a while?" He glanced towards the living room, where Toad and Blob were in an intense Connect Four contest.

Pietro raised an eyebrow. "'Out' of trouble hasn't ever really been my thing," he pointed out.

Lance smiled ruefully. "Fine. You think you can keep them from getting caught doing anything too stupid?"

Pietro flashed him a grin. "Now you're talking my language." His expression quickly sobered. "Hey, rockhead, come back safe."

Lance raised an eyebrow, unsure how to respond to the silver-haired boys uncharacteristic shift to seriousness.

Pietro flashed him a cheeky grin. "You know, we're coming up on Toad's birthday, Blob says he's baking him a cake, and there's no way I'm dealing with that sugar rush on my own."

Lance chuckled. "Yeah, that seems about right. Don't touch my stuff, Whizzer."

Lance stepped out of his jeep, holding a duffel bag. "All right," he told Daisy. "I'm in. Now how about some answers. Who's this badass that's got Fury wetting the Helicarrier deck?"

Daisy glanced about the parking lot, and satisfied that they were not being watched, replied, "He calls himself Baron Blood- Lord of the Vampires."