Logan was buzzing, body on high alert as he waited in the hangar for the others. Were he anyone else he'd be shifting impatiently or doing some obnoxious repetitive action; instead he was crouched, mentally going through sword forms to keep his mind sharp for the coming encounter, eyes half-closed in concentration. He'd left his cowl off, hanging down his back with no need for it at the moment. It had been something of a relief to him when they'd gone back to their varied uniforms, being more comfortable in something he'd been wearing for years, and it hadn't taken a rocket scientist to realize that black leather made people uncomfortable. As Teva had observed once, it put people in mind of crazed bikers (which yeah, Logan fell under that heading, but not usually when he was doing the superhero thing).

It was yet another variation on his blue-and-yellow togs, just a change of design, and it was as comfortable as his own skin. He'd missed it.

Teva was the next to enter, just a couple minutes behind him, and his eyes rose to run over her body encased in what looked like thick black latex. She'd blatantly refused anything flashy in favor of a color that made her skin look almost translucent, with subtle royal blue accents, and she'd left it unzipped at the neck so that he could see the Celtic knot pendant she wore. A double holster hooked around her shoulders and was secured by a clip under her breasts, placing an XD-45 handgun beneath either arm with the barrels pointing down and back; her utility belt secured another holster with a Glock 18C on her right hip for a cross-draw that was further anchored around her thigh, the belt also holding various implements as well as spare ammunition. A fourth and final gun was strapped to her right ankle over her combat boot, a small Semmerling that was purely backup in case she lost her other firearms.

The entire uniform was lined with bullet-stopping Kevlar, heavier in the torso and lighter around the limbs for ease of movement, the whole suit made of flexible carbon nanotube fibers that resisted tearing and offered protection to her skin. It might seem like overkill but if saved her life, neither one was going to complain.

She was pulling on a pair of fingerless gloves as she came in, flexing her hands to ease the fit. Her own cowl was down leaving her face bare. "Why am I nae surprised you're in here first?"

"I been doin' this longer."

"Stop staring at my tits."

His eyes rose and found her smirk. "Sorry, got distracted."

She hmmphed at him. "Dinnae make me put a hollow-point bullet in your ass, mo dubh. You'll heal but it will'nae feel good and y'ken how cranky that makes you."

He snickered and stood up. "Ain't my fault ya look like that, babe. I'm used to ya in cargoes an' t-shirts."

"Just as long as you dinnae get 'distracted' while we're out heroing."

"No chance o' that happenin'." He'd be more distracted by her safety than her chest.

Scott stepped in, followed by Emma and then Kitty, Remy and Rogue. "Get loaded, guys, we're just waiting on Hank and Ororo."

Kitty worked on pre-flight while the rest of the team got situated on the Blackbird, taking up the jump seats behind the pilot and co-pilot stations.

~See, compared to Frost I'm downright frumpy~ Teva sent to Logan, strapping in next to him. ~One good yank and her whole top comes off, I swear she's breaking the laws of gravity in that get-up.~

He gave her a look, noticing the motion sickness patch behind her ear bared by her braided hair before she turned to look at him again. ~Well hey, if that happens, the bad guys'll get distracted. Should make things easier.~

Teva sniggered, bouncing her leg with unrepressed restlessness. Luckily Scott came on-board with Hank and Ororo, the latter two taking their places with the rest of the team while their leader took his place as pilot. Take-off was smooth and controlled as always, which wasn't enough to put Logan's mind off the fact he was flying, something he hated more than most things in the world.

"Alright," Scott said when they were in the air, angling his chair so he could see all of his troops. "Sit-rep: there's a halfway house in Brooklyn that caters to mutants, one that the professor works closely with. We got a call half an hour ago about a disturbance that sounded a lot like our old friend Deadpool and at least one another unidentified player. Communication was cut off before we could get the rest of the story and Emma and Xavier was unable to get more telepathically."

"Are we looking at some sort of hostage situation?" Ororo asked. "It is Deadpool we are talking about, after all."

Scott shook his head. "That's unclear at this point. Luckily the halfway house wasn't full, with maybe ten residents and five staff. The residents have to sign a waiver saying they won't use their powers while on the premises but there's no way to tell what they'd do in a crisis, so just keep in mind they might panic and attack us and try to avoid hurting them. Our goal is to neutralize the threat of anyone who shouldn't be there and, if we can't, to get the residents to safety."

"So who's Deadpool?" Teva asked Logan when Scott finished, leaning a little closer to him in his seat beside her so that their legs touched.

"Mercenary," he replied. "Went through Weapon X, later than me, they actually took my healin' factor and injected him with it so he's as hard to kill as me. Likes guns and swords, never shuts the hell up, doesn't really have any problems if bystanders get in the way." He pushed calm along their link because her nervousness was starting to affect him. "Oh, and he's pretty much nutty as squirrel shit."

"You have to be a special kind of crazy to dress up and do what we do," Teva replied. She stopped bouncing her leg and took a deep breath. "I ask myself every time I do this what on earth I'm thinking and wonder if I've finally gone off the deep end."

Logan put a hand on her knee. "The day ya stop askin' yerself that, the day ya start enjoyin' it, that's the day ya need to stop."

She covered her hand with his and closed her eyes, resting her head against the back of the seat. "I'll keep that in mind."

They spent the rest of the short flight in silence, not even speaking over their link, which was fine with Logan. He liked to remain focused as he went into a confrontation and he could feel that his intensity was leaking over to Teva, something that had begun happening when she'd become a full member of the X-Men and started going on missions. It meant she was more vigilant and had the benefit of his experience, and he found he couldn't complain about that side effect. Anything that upped her chances of survival was okay in his book.

When the Blackbird landed they left their civilian lives behind, adopting their codenames. Wolverine pulled his cowl on, out of the corner of his eye he noticed his mate pull hers on, leaving only the lower half of her face visible and her braid free through a hole in the neck. He heard her crack her knuckles under the sound of Cyclops' voice giving final orders, pressing his desire for as little bloodshed as possible.

Teva snorted at Cyclops' insistence on minimal violence, wondering if he'd truly paid so little attention to his Canadian teammate; she knew he hadn't and that it was just wishful thinking on their leader's part. She couldn't fault him for it, as she'd prefer less violence, but sometimes she saw Wolverine's way of thinking as the more expedient of the two. Of course their telepathic link meant that she picked up his feral nature and behaved a little more like him, with more ruthlessness and less hesitation.

She'd chosen the codename Marten after Remy had suggested it, martens being a close relative to wolverines in the weasel family. While she may not have had the same physical force her mate did, she was by no means unable to defend herself even if she found herself without the use of her telepathy or empathy.

After lessons she'd become much more proficient with firearms and she now carried a machine pistol (the 18C) in addition to the semiautomatic XD-45s, the automatic with an expanded 33-round clip requiring much more control; the first time she'd used the Glock she'd nearly hurt herself with the kickback, and even now if she wasn't careful she could sprain her wrist, which is why she now wore leather bracers on her wrists to keep them stable. She had one of the XD-45s in her right hand held at her side with the safety on and a round in the chamber.

She followed Wolverine, her designated partner, keeping the same crouching stance he did as they moved across the roof and down the fire escape on the back of the building. There was nothing in the alley save dumpsters and random garbage, a beat-up Honda parked near the far end that Marten quickly checked for occupancy. ~Clear~ she sent back to him. ~Whole alley is.~

Wolverine nodded sharply from the other end where he was checking several steel drums. His sense of smell was telling him the same thing her telepathy told her, she read, though he got the worse part of the deal by also taking in the scents of rotting trash and other assorted disgusting things. Sometimes she didn't understand how he could live with his enhanced senses.

They both looked up simultaneously at a shadow moving overhead, Marten lifting her gun to track it as it sailed over their heads from the building the Blackbird had landed on to the next. She shook her head to indicate she didn't recognize the mental signature.

~Let's move~ he told her, taking off without waiting for her at a loping pace that she kept up with easily after months of training, though she didn't move with quite the grace that he did. The halfway house was five blocks away from the 'Bird to aid in keeping the X-Men's arrival concealed and even though they'd come in under stealth there was still the possibility they could be seen; obviously that had already happened if that shadow had been any indication, not being one of their teammates. Wolverine and Marten moved down the back alleys avoiding the pools of light that created islands in the darkness, covering each other as they switched off on who took point and who watched their rear as if they'd been doing this for years instead of months.

There were no more sightings of the other as they made their way to the alley behind the target building. Marten tried the back door and found it open, questing ahead and finding no one waiting for them while also sending calming suggestions to the inhabitants. She could feel two that were resisting it, one actively pushing her out while the other possessed a mind so slippery she couldn't even touch it. Behind her she heard Wolverine scenting the air and whatever he smelled had him growling low.

"Deadpool," he said quietly, then he swore. "And Wild Child."

The tone of his voice and his emotions told her he wasn't happy, angry at the merc they knew was there but also at the partner he'd just identified; he knew them both from his past. "Wild Child's another feral, darlin', he's gonna know we're here."

Marten responded by switching the semi-automatic to her left hand and unholstering the 18C with her right. "He felt my telepathy. Healing factor?" she asked.

"Yeah. Stronger 'n mine, he ain't got adamantium." He stopped prowling long enough to stand next to her. "How many ya readin'?"

She closed her eyes, shutting out sight and reaching out with her mind. "20, all told, in the building. 22, now, Storm and Cyclops just came in the front." She jerked at the sudden outbreak of violence in the next room and her eyes shot open again. "Shit! Move!" she shouted, hurtling into the dark corridor ahead as rapid gunfire sounded at the other end, screaming and chaos filling her ears.

A blond man done up in what could only be described as bondage gear flew past her with the power of Storm's wind, his body slamming into the wall but the blow didn't put him down. He crouched as he slid to the floor and when he looked up his eyes were on Marten, a downright evil grin on his vulpine face with sharp teeth bared.

"Hello, cutie," he said. With one leap he was in the air coming for her with clawed hands extended and only by sheer force of will was she able to switch the safety off the gun in her left hand and squeeze off a couple rounds into his chest. He jerked with the force of hollow point bullets hitting him and remaining inside of his body instead of exiting through the back; they were designed to do that, to expand upon impact and cause more damage to the target rather than going through-and-through, and when facing someone who could heal the wounds it was a good asset to have. It didn't stop him, which she hadn't expected it to, and she had a sudden flashback to coming up against Sabretooth in the Weapon X facility. It was a strong memory that she shoved down violently before it could overtake her.

Up close she could see the piercings in his face and in his ears, the latter pointed at the tip like a cat's, and his eyes were the same feral amber of Creed's. She wondered briefly if all ferals were like that, even Logan's eyes held that hint of orange-gold in the right light, but she didn't have much time to reflect on it.

"You've got cat breath," she snarled at him, opening up with the 18C in his face. The controlled burst made blood splatter back on her, across the front of her uniform and face, as he jerked back and fell, twitching on the ground. She stepped over his body and looked around the room trying to take in as much detail as she could in as short a time possible.

Storm was gone, moving down the corridor Wolverine and Marten had come down with her cape flowing behind her. "The residents are down the back stairs," Marten told her over the comm in their ears.

Cyclops was grappling with a woman with blue skin and white hair, forced to use hand-to-hand instead of the long-range power of his optic blasts but he was equally capable with both forms of warfare.

Wolverine snarled something and out of the corner of her eye she saw a blur of red and black and silver deal him a blow that opened him up across the chest, and when he turned to fight back another took him across the muscles of his back, the wounds bad enough he hit the floor on one knee as his healing factor kicked in to take care of the damage. It was quick but it wasn't instant and he'd be down for a few moments.

Marten lifted her left hand and fired over his head now that he was down and his opponent stopped moving long enough to remain stationary. The man staring back at her was encased entirely in a suit of red and black with white over his eyes, one katana strapped to his back and the other in his left hand, a bulky submachine gun in his right, and if she wasn't mistaken there was white writing on the firearm. The bullets took him in the chest and she thought she saw surprise on his face behind the mask before he used Wolverine as a springboard and flipped over him like a gymnast, aiming his gun at Marten and firing.

She crouched under the spray and had a moment to admire the guy's form before she was firing at him again with the Glock. He didn't seem terribly bothered by the bullets that hit him, and then he surprised the hell out of her by talking.

"Nice shot back there, by the way," he said, circling her and spinning his sword in his hand. "Didn't expect that from a girl, not even one who's boinking the rug back there. I mean, it's not like you gain skill in fighting through osmosis or something."

"Deadpool, I'm guessing?"

"Oh, she's heard of me!" He sounded inordinately pleased and gave her a little bow that wasn't entirely mocking, like he was genuinely happy she'd heard of him. "So did you get sick of being a rock star or do you still do that as a day job?"

Marten frowned and tried not to be put off by the steady patter of words. "Can we maybe pay attention to the fight at hand?" she asked. "If that's alright with you, that is?"

He nodded his head. "Sounds good to me. En garde!" He rushed her faster than she expected and she put up her arm to block him, felt the pressure of his blade against her forearm. "Hey, no fair, that's supposed to cut you!"

She grinned at him and fired in his face. "Sorry, bub, my armor's better than yours." She gave him another few bullets in the face until her gun clicked on empty and she jacked the spent magazine out, replaced the XD-45 and put a new magazine in the Glock.

By that point Wolverine was up again and he kicked Deadpool in the ribs, hard enough to send him flying into the far wall. "He won't stay down long, though I'm kinda surprised ya held yer own against 'im."

"Your vote of confidence is overwhelming. Maybe he was distracted by my tits," she replied sarcastically.

"I totally was," Deadpool gurgled from his place on the floor.

"The fuck are ya doin' here, 'Pool?" Wolverine asked him, crouching and holding his claws out at the fallen merc. "Tell me or the lady here gets to see just how ugly ya are."

Deadpool grimaced and sat up slowly. "Recruitment, what else? You recognized Wild Child over there, an' that's Copycat," he said, gesturing to the white haired woman who was unconscious on the floor. "Maverick'd be here but he said no."

Marten heard Wolverine's sharp intake of breath. "Mav? What about Wraith?"

The merc shook his head. "Nah, you know him, he wouldn't come back, either."

"Are they puttin' Weapon X back together?"

Marten jerked at that, staring first at Wolverine and then at Deadpool.

Deadpool nodded. "Yeah, wanna come back, old buddy?"

"Where's Vic?"

"Not here," Marten said, having scanned for him as soon as Deadpool mentioned Weapon X. "I cannae feel him."

"They're keeping him on a short leash," Deadpool told them. He reached up and scratched his chin, then his head. "You know how he is."

Wolverine growled.

"Were you after someone in particular here?" Marten asked. Up close to him she could see the writing on his gun: How's my shooting? Call 1-800-Ded-Pool with the 'a' in 'Dead' scratched out.

Deadpool coughed, bright blood staining his mask, and he pulled it up over his chin. She could see that his skin was scarred heavily beneath the blood. "Thought Kane was here but he wasn't, then Wild Child decided to have some fun. He's as bad as Sabes when he wants to be." His head cocked to the side. "Oh, yeah, Wild Child's awake, by the way."

Marten was pushed forward, her head being forced into the floor repeatedly, painfully, until she felt her left cheekbone crack. She lay there in a daze and listened to the sound of gunfire and metal on metal as Deadpool and Wolverine went at it again; she struggled onto hands and knees and watched her blood drip onto the floor before she was grabbed again, trying not to puke.

Wild Child spun her around, snapping his teeth in her face. "Think it'll piss off Logan if I kill you?" he snarled at her.

She blinked at him, trying to think past the pain. Behind her Wolverine called her name. She shook her head to clear it and sense began to return.

"Think ye can do it before your head goes boom?" she replied, reaching for both of his ears and pumping kinetic energy into the metal hoops there until they glowed purple. She had a moment to see the surprise on his face and then she was blown back with the force of the explosion, her head thudding against the floor when she landed. Stars burst in her vision at the impact.

Wolverine appeared over her, his cowl pulled off as he checked her pulse. "Can ya mimic off my healin' factor?" he asked. Under normal circumstances she could, using his proximity to strengthen hers, but he was really asking if she had the consciousness to do it.

"Need skin," she got out, the act of speaking painful with her broken cheekbone. He stripped off his glove and linked his bare fingers with hers, and with her mind she reached out down their link, taking enough to knit the break back together, ease the force of the concussion. She felt him stroke her head with his other hand. Even with the aid she felt weak and unconsciousness ate at the corners of her vision, her entire head throbbing worse than it had with her earlier migraine.

"S'ok," Wolverine told her. "We're gettin' outta here. Just take it easy."

The last thing she was aware of before she closed her eyes was the voices of her teammates and her mate's arms lifting her.