I had a rude awakening the next morning when I tried to roll over and ended up on the floor. I grunted and was automatically in a bad mood. I hadn't slept well because I'd been plagued by dreams of an extremely wounded wolverine howling at the moon…and he wouldn't shut up! I pushed myself off the floor and stretched. The clock said 9:30 am. I walked towards Victor's snoring form and roughly kicked his chair. He snorted and sat up. "What the hell was that for?" he demanded.

"Your snoring is driving me nuts! My mind made me listen to howling all night. I don't wanna listen to your growling all day!" He gave me a dark look, rolled over, and fell back asleep, quietly this time. I sighed, regretting my harsh words already, and went outside. The sun was out and the air was humid. I was pretty sure I preferred the chill of New York. Heat always accentuated my bad moods. Bored, I decided to go for a jog and find some breakfast.

As I loped gracefully through the streets, I observed all the people coming and going and doing. It was organized chaos. That was the one thing I liked about big cities. You just got caught up in the flow, and if you didn't get with the program, you got trampled. Plain and simple survival of the fittest. Very primal and instinctual. Perfect for people like me. I came across a bakery and decided to get a bagel and cream cheese. I made my order to a very chipper girl behind the counter with a bright smile and happy eyes. Her lightheartedness made me feel almost ashamed to be in a foul mood, so once I had told her what I wanted, I moved off to a shadowed corner with my hands shoved in my jeans pockets to wait. When my bagel was ready, she called my name in her pixie voice. I went up to pay. The bill came up to $4.60. I only had a ten, so as I handed it over, I smiled at her and said, "Keep the change, chick."

"Thanks!" she cried as I left.

I strolled down the street, eagerly biting into my food. It was really good. I smiled and looked up at the wispy clouds. One of them reminded me of a bird, free and happy. Suddenly, I felt myself collide with someone. "My god!! I'm sorry!" I cried, looking at them. I kind of choked on my bagel when I found Remy LeBeau standing in front of me, wiping cream cheese off his shirt.

He smiled charmingly. "Don't worry about it, doll. Bit of cream cheese won't kill me." I couldn't help it. I smiled back. I handed him my napkin to aid in the clean-up process. "Thanks," he said warmly. "I'm Remy. Remy LeBeau."

"Elena Romanov," I said before I could convince myself not to.

"Where you headed, Miss Elena?"

"Ah, well, I don't really have a destination."

"Would you like an escort to nowhere? That's about where I was going." He offered me his arm with an almost expectant look on his face. I looked around out of habit, just to make absolutely certain that Victor hadn't followed me or something, then laced my arm through his. We struck off down the street. He said, "So, are you Russian? You have a faint accent."

"Is it faint? I suppose it's faded over the years. But, yes, I am Russian. Not entirely happy about it, but Russian nonetheless."

"I know what you mean. There are many things I'm not happy about being, but I can't change what I am."

I managed to catch my tongue before mentioning his mutation, but it was a close call. "I take it you're a native, what with that Southern drawl you have."

"That I am. A proud native of beautiful New Orleans. Where do you call home?"

"New York City and/or Canada. I've got homes in each."

His countenance darkened. "I've been to New York City. Once. Stayed there for 2 years. I ain't never goin' back."

I knew why, of course, but just to seem interested, I asked, "Why not?"

"Long story."

"Get your heart broken?"

He smiled sadly. "I wish that was the case. Some terrible things happened up there."

"Did you kill anyone?"

"No," he laughed.

"Then you're not near as bad as some people I know who would say the exact same thing."

"Hmm. Mysteries, mysteries. I guess I oughta ask…are you seeing anyone? I just need to know so I know where to go from here."

I laughed and told him, "Yes, I am seeing someone. If he's awake yet, he's probably wondering where I've gone."

"So, you're the type that just waltzes out without leaving a note or anything?"

"Yeah, pretty much. I was in a bad mood, too, and we had already shared some harsh words, so I wasn't feeling that obligated to tell him where I was going."

"Seems like sound logic to me. What are the 2 of you doing in New Orleans?"

"Um…we're meeting a couple of old friends. We all worked together about 6 years ago."

"Aha! So you and your beau have been together or quite a while!"

"Well…yes and no. We were together for a long time before our work team split. I was one of the first to leave, and in the process, I left him too. We were just recently reunited."

"The ashes rekindled?"

"They never went out."

He grinned broadly. "I like you, Miss Elena Romanov. I sure do wish you were single! But, since you're not, I suppose I should leave you be." He let go of my arm and tipped his hat to me, eyeing me from beneath the brim. "Good day to you, madam. Be safe, and should you ever need and ear, I'm not to hard to find around here."

So I've noticed, I thought to myself with a slight smirk. "Thank you for your company, Mr. LeBeau. I found it quite enjoyable." He smiled one last time before spinning on his heel and prancing away. I watched him go and chuckled quietly to myself. Nesha would like him…then it occurred to me. Had they known each other? He hadn't acted like he'd recognized me or my name…but what if he had? I looked up at his now very distant figure, nervousness gripping my heart. This could be very bad. I turned around and jogged back to the plane.

Victor was sitting in a chair, a very strange look on his face. I softly glared at him and demanded, "What?!"

"Where have you been?"

"Out for a jog and getting some breakfast."

"Mhm. You didn't happen to run into and/or eat Remy LeBeau, did you?"

My eyes glided over to meet his. "And if I did?" I was trying not to sound intimidated, but there was no use denying it. I was very intimidated. He had either seen us, or he could smell LeBeau on me, and I think he was feeling a little possessive. I decided to try and reason with him. "Victor, don't blow this out of proportion. Nothing happened. We talked. I didn't tell him who you were, but I made it clear that I was taken." Victor raised his eyebrows kind of like he had in Bradley's trailer when Bradley had tried to stutter something out to talk him down…and that scared me. He got up out of the chair and started slowly striding towards me. "Jesus, Victor!! If you're going to try to kill me, just do it!!!" I finally blurted out. He stopped and suddenly started dying laughing. He doubled over, chortling loudly. I hadn't realized it, but my fingers had been digging into a chair almost to the point that my claws were pressing against the back of my skin. I kept a grip on the chair, but I loosened it just a bit.

When Victor finally got done hacking, he looked over at my pale figure, his smile even reaching his eyes. "GULLIBLE!!!!" he cried, bursting into laughter again. I slowly came to realize that he had been messing with me. When that fact came to mind, I was instantly pissed. I snarled and dove at him, my fists flying. We tumbled to the ground, him laughing, me punching. I hit every inch of him I could find. Finally, he grabbed my wrists and rolled us over so that I was pinned beneath him. "You're so adorable when you're angry," he told me.

I glared up at him and growled, "I would like nothing more than to claw your throat out at the moment."

"I'd like to see you try," he teased, his teeth gleaming in the fluorescent plane lights as he grinned. My anger slowly abated as I realized that this was the happiest he'd been in a very, very long time. One side of my mouth pulled up into a smile. As I had said before, his happiness was my own.

"Can I get up now?" I asked.

"Do you promise not to hurt me?"

"If you promise not to hurt me, I promise not to hurt you."

"Then I promise." He released my wrists and got off. I stood up and shook the remaining tenseness out of my body. "So," he began while stretching, "what did you find for breakfast? Not LeBeau, I hope."

"No, not LeBeau. He just found my breakfast all over his shirt for a minute. I got a bagel and cream cheese."

"Oh, how like a girl."

"What?"

"No meat. Nothing worth calling substantial."

"Since when does my choice of food concern you? It's not like you were affected, all snuggled up asleep, here."

"I only ended up sleeping another 20 minutes. Then, I woke up and you were gone. I figured I could trust you since you came back last night."

"Aww, thanks, sweetheart. It's so wonderful when the guy who says he loves you FIGURES he can trust you." He smiled and came over, wrapping his big muscular arms around me. I leaned into him, relishing the happiness while it lasted. It wouldn't be long before my mood would decline. The closer it got to evening, the worse off I would be.

"You're something else, you know that?" he said into my hair.

I chuckled and kissed his jaw. "Yes, I do. Now, what are your plans for the rest of the day? I don't suppose we should go wandering around considering my uncanny ability to attract Remy LeBeau."

"No, we probably shouldn't. It would be terrible if we ended up killing our bait before we caught what we were fishing for."

"Oh, yeah. Heartbreaking," I murmured sarcastically into his shoulder.

He stroked my hair for a moment, then began slowly, "I hate to bring this up, but…I can count on you tonight, right?"

I groaned and hit my head a few times against his chest. "Yes! Yes, you can. I know my duty…job…whatever it is. You forget that I was a better soldier than you."

"Now, wait a minute…"

"You were the better fighter! I was the better soldier."

He considered that for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, that's about right. No man left behind," he mused. "Do you remember when you saved that kid in Normandy?"

"When I saved that kid…I'm going to need more to go off of than that."

"Come on, how many kids did you save?"

I leaned back and looked at him, surprised. "We got separated for a few days during that invasion. I might've saved a whole platoon for all you know."

"I would've heard about it!" I raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't I've? You would have told me, right?" I just kept looking at him, the same somewhat smug expression on my face. No, I hadn't saved a whole platoon…but it was fun making him wonder.

I backed out of his arms and turned toward the cockpit. It suddenly dawned on me that I hadn't seen the pilot since before I had run off last night. "Hey, Victor, where's the pilot?"

He was still puzzling over the possibility that I had been a hero, and didn't answer right away. "What'd you say, Elena?"

"The pilot. Where is he?"

"Oh! He took off after you did last night. I told him he wouldn't be needed until tonight, so he could have some fun."

"Oh. Ok. Just wondering." I wandered back into the body of the plane, allowing my memory to have its way. I could see Wade in his chair with his sword on his lap and a whetstone in his hand. The ring of the stone on the blade was etched in my audible memory forever. I imagined him glancing up at me and smiling in honest acceptance and welcome. I smiled at the thought. I moved to the next chair. Nesha's. She was staring at Wade in utter awe, but when he looked over, she did too. She grinned at me while brushing a lock of hair out of her face. I was reminded why I was protecting her by that one movement. I moved to the next chair. John's. His dark brown eyes sparkled with well-mannered humor as he grinned up at me from under his wide-brimmed cowboy hat. He chocolate colored skin looked so smooth and it didn't wrinkle when he winked at me. The next chair was Zero's. The only thing I had ever liked about him was his deep black hair. My imagination had him sitting there with his chin to his chest, his face hidden and only his hair obvious. I quickly moved on to Bradley's. He smiled up at me, his blue eyes twinkling. I missed him so bad. My eyes then moved to the other side of the plane. I skipped Victor's and my seat and just went to Logan's. I could picture him there, his hazel eyes roving around cleverly, and his big hands running through his hair. He looked up at me and I couldn't hold his imaginary gaze. I glanced at the floor before moving to Fred's chair. I saw him the way he used to be: more of a knot of flesh rather than a blob. He didn't look at me. He had always been afraid to be nice to me in Zero's presence. I didn't hold him accountable for that. The last chair was Stryker's. I just skipped that one too. I jumped when Victor bumped into me going by.

"Sorry," he said, slightly puzzled.

"Um, you're fine. I just didn't hear you behind me." He just stared at me for a second, then walked on. I let out a deep breath and shook my head. I couldn't help but think that slowly but surely, I was losing it.

As the day progressed, my boredom and dread for the evening grew, and it didn't mix well with Victor's own boredom and general everyday foul mood. The sun was just beginning to go down and we had isolated ourselves on opposite ends of the plane. Every few minutes, I glanced over at him. He was absentmindedly picking at his nails and staring out the window, his mouth in a small frown. I couldn't help but think of how cute he looked. He could've had the 'I really hate you' expression on his face and I still would have thought him cute. Honestly, some of his worse moods were some of his best faces. His extremely threatening glare not only scared the hell out of me, it also made me want to run over, dig my claws in his chest, and kiss him. Not a good mixture. Not a good one at all. I hadn't realized I'd been staring at him while I was thinking, and as his eyes flitted to me, I quickly glanced away. A barely discernable chuckled carried over from his side of the plane. I smiled to myself and sank deeper into the corner I had claimed.

I watched the sun set through a window and of course went to the most depressing fact I could've come up with. This was John's last sunset. That thought darkened my countenance considerably. Tonight was going to suck. At about 10:30 pm, Victor sighed and stood up. I watched him stretch, not yet ready to fully commit to my task. He came over and offered me a hand. With an extremely uncomfortable churn of my gut, I took it. Once I was standing, he tapped my nose with his finger, but said nothing. I followed him off the place and into the muggy darkness of outside. Still not speaking, he gestured for me to take off and show the way to Gambit's featured nightclub. I sighed, bounced around a bit to loosen up, then ran off. I kept a steady, normal human-like jog so we wouldn't scare the locals. The street was much busier than it had been the night before, and I was somewhat nervous about what ramifications that might have.

I slowed when we reached the club. Victor pulled up beside me and looked at it. "Looks about right," he said.

"Does it?" I asked absentmindedly. I didn't pay attention to the answer. I turned around when I heard two motorcycle-sounding engines approaching. My eyes met John Wraith's for half a second before I shoved Victor towards an alley. That was all the luring John was going to need.

"What the…?" Victor sputtered.

"They're here," I growled. He went with me without question. Once we were in the alley, I stopped pushing him. "John saw me," I said quietly. "I don't think Logan did."

"Confrontation is inevitable, Elena. He'll come looking for John."

"I know, I know," I stated, holding up a hand. "You don't have to remind me."

"Sorry."

"No, you're not," I muttered before walking a little farther down.

A few minutes later, John came out of a door and looked around. Victor and I were shrouded in shadow and he didn't see us at first. "You my brother's new babysitter, John?" Victor called as we revealed ourselves in the lamplight.

He looked us over and sneered, "I ain't Bradley, Victor, and your creepy black coat don't scare me."

"Really?" Victor asked. "Worked on Dukes."

John lashed out and punched him squarely in the jaw. "You shouldn't have done that. Now I'ma kill you before Logan even gets a chance."

Victor grinned in anticipation of the fight. "You know, John, there's something I always wanted to tell you," he began. John started teleporting around, punching different parts of Victor and for some reason, ignoring me. The way his teleporting worked, his skeleton appeared a millisecond before the rest of him. Victor let John punch on him a bit, but somehow foresaw his next move and whipped around, grabbing a hold of John's spine. I winced as John made some kind of garbled gasp sound. "You're predictable," Victor finished. John's body was phasing in and out as Victor tightened his grip. "Oooh. I can feel you spine, Johnny-boy. That's funny. Never knew you had one."

I'd had enough. "Victor!!"

He ripped John's spine out and spun to face me. "What?!" he cried, annoyed.

I watched John's body crumple to the ground and choked, "I was going to tell you to get on with it and stop patronizing him, but…" I gestured helplessly at the body. He rolled his eyes and knelt down to get the DNA he needed. I watched him. "How can you be so cold?" I demanded. "He was our friend! Our team member!"

"Shut up, Elena!" he snarled.

My arm was drawn all the way back to totally clobber him upside the head when someone came bursting out of the wall of the club. I spun around and stared as Logan groaned. Victor quietly slid the syringe he had been using into a protective case and looked over at his brother. Finally, Logan realized that we were there. He slowly got up and faced us. Victor stood, and I clenched my fists, waiting for that inevitable confrontation to begin. As we stared at each other, Gambit jumped out of the hole in the wall and growled, "Two years I rotted in that hell-hole and I ain't never goin' back." Logan simply elbowed him in the face. Then, he extended his now metal-coated claws. They were impressive.

"Ooh," Victor sneered. "Shiny." As hard as I tried to fight it…painfully almost…a grin broke out on my face. Logan quietly growled. "Tell me something, Jimmy. Do you even know how to kill me?"

"I'm gonna cut your goddamned head off. See if that works," Logan answered.

Victor chuckled and bounded forward on all fours. As promised, I kept my distance. Logan ran forward, but slid under Victor when he was in midair. Logan then kicked upwards, catching Victor in the gut and sending him spinning off. Victor crashed into a trashcan and landed with the sound of shattering glass. "Getting slow, old man," Logan taunted.

"That's what I said," I murmured to myself.

Victor leapt back to his feet and lashed out at Logan. Logan skewered Victor's hand and embedded his claws in his brother's chest. He slammed him against the wall and snarled, "You're gonna die for what you did to Kayla."

"Intervention time," I sighed. I took off down the alley, claws extended, mentally preparing myself to fight Logan off. What none of us had realized was that Gambit had disappeared. As I rushed towards the brothers, Gambit came flying down from the roof of the club with a staff. He landed, digging the staff into the ground. There's no better way to describe what happened other than: everything exploded. I flew into the air and started freefalling back to the ground. I landed on my stomach and it winded me. The one upside was that it had blasted Logan and Victor apart. I was trying to stand back up when Victor came over and yanked my up my the back of my shirt. He practically carried me towards the opening of the alley.

"VICTOR!" Logan cried as he tried to pursue us. Gambit blocked his way and initiated a fight as we escaped.

Once we were back out in the crowded main street, Victor gave me control of my feet again. I grabbed the hand that Logan had skewered and worriedly checked the wounds. They healed as I looked at them, but the holes had been terrible. Victor was staring off into space. "I can't beat him," he said weakly. "I can't fight the adamantium. I have to get it before I face him again."

I remembered the folders sitting in Stryker's lab bearing the huge red word NEGATIVE on their papers. I wanted to tell Victor the truth, but if Stryker found out, Nesha would be put to death. I couldn't do it. "You'll get it, Victor. We have to go. Come on." I tugged on his arm and he blindly followed. We got back to the plane about 45 minutes later. The pilot was sitting in the cockpit doing preflight checkups. I sat Victor down in a chair and went over to the pilot. "We need to get out of here. Now."

"Give me ten minutes and we'll be off," he answered.

I knew there was no sense in rushing him, so I went back into the cabin, shut the plane door, and went to sit by Victor. He still seemed a little mentally distant, so I simply held his hand. As the engine roared to life and we started speeding down the runway, I pulled my legs up under me and quietly laid my head on Victor's shoulder. He leaned his own against mine, but remained silent. As it happened, we didn't say anything the entire flight back to New York. We…well, I, at least, reflected on everything that had happened the past couple days. It wasn't a pleasant reflection. I felt terrible. Victor's long ago proposition of lying in a hole somewhere until someone figured out how to kill me sounded quite appealing at the moment. When I thought about the look on John's face as his lifeless body crumpled to the ground, I changed my mind. I didn't want to wait.