Chapter 5

Galia added cream to her latte. Today she was to attend an Iron Man Suit Fitting for some students, which meant hectic note-taking and a lot of sweat, following the President around. She didn't like Volker very much, but her job paid and in today's job market, that was too precious to give up.

There was something strange about the man. When he got angry, he often cursed in German, which at first she found funny, until he started to sound like Hitler. Galia also wasn't sure how she felt about his secret meetings where she wasn't allowed. As the President's Assistant slash Secretary she was supposed to be everywhere the President was. Meetings where she "wasn't allowed" rang the same bell as "illegal dealings."

She was about to put a lid on her coffee cup when Kurt appeared in her kitchen.

"Come with me," he said urgently.

She was too confused to move.

"Kurt, what are you doing here?"

"Come with me, if you want to live!" he said quickly, shaking his offered hand at her.

"What? Kurt, what is going on? How do you know where I live?"

"Do you trust me?" he demanded.

"What?"

"Do you trust me?" he said again. A few seconds passed while she stared at his hand.

"...Yes," she finally said.

He grabbed her hand, pulled her into a tight embrace, then teleported away.

Remy flexed his muscles before heading into the sparring room. Today had been his first day working in the explosives lab, and while his colleagues had been nice enough, he didn't like the way they had stared at him when they thought he didn't notice. And they hadn't been stares of admiration—his colleagues were wary of him. He knew what it was: they were afraid that he would accidentally set something off and they would all die in one big mushroom cloud of doom. Remy was familiar with this fear.

So he wanted to go knock some heads without consequences, without using his power. That wasn't normally how he let off steam, but the stress from work was really irritating. He had never worked with people who didn't have powers before. He felt like a freak next to them, and he didn't like it at all. And maybe getting hit in the process of giving them would remind everyone that he wasn't a god. He was just mortal like the rest of them.

A wave of heat washed over him when he entered the sparring room. Students and teachers mixed were sparring on cushioned mats on the floor while students and teachers who weren't sparring watched from the sidelines. "In the sparring room, the authority line between master and apprentice blurs," said the inscription above the double wooden doors. The only rule was no powers, which made perfect sense. Only that way would the fights be equal and the victory would be justified and fair.

Kathleen, in a light green sports top and matching sports shorts, was leaning against one of the tall balancing beams that outlined the mats. All of the females in the sparring room had bare midriffs, but it didn't seem to make the males hold back their aggression. On the contrary, Kathleen's naked flat stomach seemed to make the pair on the mat closest to her punch each other harder. Like a psychic, she turned around when he was several feet behind her and waved him over. Her skin shone as skin did right after doing a workout.

"Hey, Rem-sicle, how was your first day of school?" she asked turning back to observe the two sparring students on the mat in front of her. "Did you get along with the other kids?"

Remy grunted. He liked Kathleen; not in the way he liked Ellie, but he enjoyed being around the leggy brunette all the same. She was like the really hot older sister he never had.

"Twenty bucks, the little guy wins," she said suddenly.

"Do you have a gambling addiction?"

She made a face at him, yet still somehow maintained her attractiveness. Remy looked back at the two fighters. The little one looked like a pasty, uncooked chicken wing on a chicken that didn't want to be slaughtered compared to his opponent, who was a tall Samoan whose muscles bulged and flexed with every movement. The tribal tattoo on his shoulder looked reassuring.

"I'll take that bet," Remy replied. They looked on in silence as the sparring students grunted and growled against each other. The Samoan looked like he was about to slam his ham-sized fists in a definite knockout when suddenly, the shorter man crouched, grabbed the Samoan's ankles and promptly flipped him onto his backside. His enormous weight caused him to be stuck as his opponent exhibited an astonishing feat of strength and pinned him to the floor simply by holding down his ankles, bent over his head at an uncomfortable angle that made Remy squirm. It reminded him of how Ellie nearly cut off the blood flow to his testicles and his brain just by pinching two veins in his neck.

"You'll learn that here soon enough," Kathleen said, holding out her hand for the money. "Don't underestimate the little guy. You gotta know how to handle them, or else there's no way to beat them. The Samoan obviously isn't in the know."

"And you are?"

"Of course. Ellie is the shortest person on this campus, and I'm the only one who can beat her in hand-to-hand combat, and just barely. But that's not even factoring in her reluctance to beat up on someone she cares about. She can knock anyone back on their ass in a matter of minutes."

Remy highly doubted that. He chalked it up to Kathleen's tendency to exaggerate about her friend. Some of the stuff he heard about Ellie from people around campus seemed too incredible to believe–like the story that she once paralyzed a student for disrespecting her in class or that she could explode a chopstick in such a way that the splinters could simultaneously kill three men. He wasn't even sure how that last part was possible. She didn't have any sort of mutant powers, let alone one like his that dealt with kinetic energy.

Where was she anyway, he wondered. He asked Kathleen, and she jerked her head in the direction of the yoga mats. Ellie was sitting cross-legged on the ground, her eyes closed in meditation. She was completely motionless–her eyelids didn't even flutter.

"After every workout she does some taichi and meditates to wind down. That kind of thing doesn't work for me–it's not physically challenging enough, so I just relax over here and watch some people beat up on each other for fun."

"Can she hear what we're saying?"

"Probably, but she also probably doesn't care...," Kathleen answered, shifting from foot to foot. Her ab muscles flexed, which gave away her sudden tension despite her calm face. "Why?"

Because he knew with whom he wanted to spar. Remy shed his trench coat with a shrug and slung it over his shoulder. Kathleen hissed in dismay when he started to stride very purposefully toward Ellie.

Unlike the other females in the room, Ellie wore a tight black jumpsuit with a high collar and cloth martial arts shoes instead of a skimpy pastel-colored sports bra and barely-there shorts. She didn't twitch at his approach–until he nudged her knee with the toe of his boot. Her eyes flicked open and gave him a side-long glare.

"Are you suicidal?" Kathleen demanded from across the room.

Remy ignored her. "Do you hate me?" he asked.

He heard Kathleen mutter a string of curse words. Ellie didn't say anything–she just narrowed her eyes.

"Good. Spar with me. Don't hold back."

He dropped his brown trench coat next to her. Remy wanted to make it clear he wasn't going anywhere until she gave him what he wanted. A number of students had stopped to watch what was unfolding. Eventually, Ellie sighed and rose from her position on the ground. To Remy's surprise, she pulled off the leather gloves she was wearing. It became apparent that this was very bad when Kathleen let out a slow, "Oh...shit."

They took opposite sides of the mat. Ellie sank into a relaxed stance that was so intimidating Remy felt unsure of how to prepare himself. He'd seen the other pairs bow to each other, but it was clear Ellie had no intention of doing that. His muscles started to feel jittery from the adrenalin–he was afraid of her. But at the same time, it excited him. He mentally scolded himself for being such a pansy, getting excited like a little ninny for just a small touch from the woman he was pursuing. Students were starting to cheer, urging him to start moving.

Remy waited a few seconds, then launched off his back foot toward her. With the X-Men, he had been known for his speed. Even without the side effect of his mutant powers, Remy was a fast son of a gun, and he knew it. But that didn't seem to faze Ellie. She dodged the jab he made at her a full second before his arm slid past her without making contact. Using the sharp angles of her fingers, she jabbed right above his elbow and at his left triceps. Something bizarre happened. His left arm went limp, and suddenly lifting it seemed to take all the energy he had. He knew he'd been close to feeling the wrath of Ellie's pressure point attack back in her house, but before that he'd never known what it was like. It was absolutely terrifying. Ellie proceeded to sweep his leg so he tumbled over, immobilized more by shock than by anything else.

"You're a disrespectful," she jabbed above his knee, "insolent," his other arm, "stupid guy." She jammed two fingers underneath his chin. Everything went numb. He could see himself moving, but he had no conscious thought of control over his limbs. "I know guys like you, and I know what you'll do when you get bored of me," she said to him in a low voice. " Just leave me alone and stay out of my way. You're not worth the effort."

He just stared at her, not even processing what she said. He couldn't think straight, and his vision was starting to get blurry. He saw a fuzzy outline of Kathleen in her light green clothing approach and put a hand on Ellie's shoulder. At this point he blacked out completely.

Kurt reappeared with Galia in his arms a few blocks away from her house.

"That was very unsettling," Galia said, holding a hand to her stomach. "Why did you do that? What's going on?"

He stared at her house. Suddenly it lighted up in an explosion, bricks and wood flying everywhere. They were safely out of the danger zone.

"Der was a Stark missile being shot at your house. I overheard some scientists speaking, and they couldn't stop it."

"You saved me?" she asked. Galia stared blankly at the wreckage that was now her home.

"They were unable to override the coordinates with remote control settings," he said slowly. Kurt's eyes drifted over Galia's face, as if he was making sure she was alright.

"Why was a missile launched at my house?" Galia cried. All her belongings, and her work, and her clothes, gone within a few seconds.

"Let me take you to the University, and we'll find out. I'll find out for you."

She took his hand again, and they disappeared.

Hiroyuki slammed his hand down on the desk.

"What do you mean, you don't know where he is?"

Berthold twiddled his thumbs idly.

"He's not a student or a faculty member of this university. I've gone over every file of every person here, but my senses tell me he's part of Stark!"

"You need to find him, Berthold. That is your job," Hiro said. "If any of the former Axis countries find out what we're doing, they will slam us down before we can even get up."

"Don't worry, Kanegawa," Berthold said. Berthold himself wasn't even worried, and he'd been trying to do this since he could remember. "How hard can it be to find the one Italian who matches the historical description?"

"Obviously it's more difficult than you thought, because you haven't found him yet."

"I will find him, Hiro. Stop worrying. Agent Axis will rise again."

Hiro exhaled exasperatedly.

"Did you launch the missiles?"

"Of course I did. Ye of little faith," Berthold said. Being around Hiro made him giddy. Knowing that he had found another part of Agent Axis made him giddy.

"What if it doesn't work? Then they will all know that they've found something they weren't supposed to."

"I'll write it off as an unfortunate training exercise. It's been done before, many times, by Mr. Stark himself."

"I hope you know what you're doing, Volker."

"You shouldn't have pissed her off like that."

Remy lifted his head. He had been seated at an outdoor table outside of a coffee shop.

"You're lucky I know how to release the Pinch," Kathleen continued, taking a sip from her mug.

"Why does she hate me?" Remy asked. He blushed when he realized how whiney he sounded. "And since you're such good friends with her, why don't you hate me?"

Kathleen pushed a cup of coffee toward him. It was black. Just the way he liked it. He took a long drink from it, careful not to burn his tongue.

"The explanation is simple. She doesn't hate you. Ellie's scared of you."

Remy laughed incredulously.

"No, no, just hear me out," Kathleen said. "She doesn't really do romance anymore. Not after..."

He raised his eyebrows. Kathleen seemed to be debating within her mind whether or not to tell him.

"There was this guy, back when she was in China. They were in the A.U.C.S. together. She was...definitely...definitely in love with him."

Kathleen paused.

"And?"

"They were going to get married," Kathleen said slowly. "But then he ratted her out to the Boss of A.U.C.S., Ja Fahr. He ruined her cover, and they found out she was an American under cover spy. She was exiled from Southern China, and sent back to the U.S. Instead of going back undercover, Ellie came to work here."

Remy was silent, staring at Kathleen, silently pressing her for more details.

"This guy was a stallion. Kinda like you. And I mean that objectively and platonically."

"Tony would kill me if I tried anything," Remy said, holding up his hands. "So a guy broke her heart. She hasn't gotten over it yet?"

"She still wears the engagement ring around her neck."

"Oh. So she hasn't gotten over him yet."

"Yes. But don't tell her I attested to that. She denies it vehemently."

Remy drained his coffee.

"In order to get Ellie to like you, you can't date her," Kathleen said. "You have to court her."

Remy laughed. It hurt his ribs.

"Stop laughing, this is serious!" Kathleen cried. "See, what Tony and I have is what you seem to be aiming for with Ellie, which I don't think is what you want. Carnal, animal attraction."

From the way her eyes softened, Remy had a suspicion that there was more than just that with her and Tony.

"But with Ellie, you need to prove that you're a good mate. Show her why you're the best choice. Natural selection," Kathleen whispered conspiratorially. Remy blilnked. "Come on, Rems. You have to save her."

"Save her from what?" Remy demanded. "As far as I can tell, she scares everyone around her too much for them to attack her."

"It happens, you're just not there enough to see it. Knowing what we know, Ellie and I get targeted a lot more than any average person should."

"This is ridiculous," Remy said, starting to get up. Kathleen caught his arm.

"A guy who is always there to protect her from anything," she said. "You can't get much more romantic or genetically fit than that. Plus you'd be beneficial for her babies."

Stephanie looked pensively out the window of the seventy-fifth floor of the science building. The window was actually a wall, tall and transparent, made completely of bullet-proof Stark glass. She occasionally liked to visit on her free time to immerse herself in that scientific atmosphere. Stark University had some of the world's leading experts in respective fields, so it was enjoyable to her to exercise her mind in the Stark University science department.

Outside, seventy-fifth stories down, students, a diligent bunch, studied, practiced, and scurried to their next classes or back to their dormitories or apartments. The sun was shining brightly and glinted off some of the students' metal suits. The air-conditioned inside of the building kept the place cool enough so that the scientists and students could work undisturbed by the blazing Malibu weather. Stephanie often wondered if many of these students collapsed from over-heating, but then quickly remembered that if Stark employed some of the best scientists in the world, then they probably took body temperature regulation into account when making the suits. She herself could already think of several ways to do that off the top of her head.

She sighed, trying to relieve years worth of boredom. It had been several years since The Incident, but she hadn't had the courage to step out and reveal her new powers. But knowing that she could do things just like the other super-powered beings at Stark University was only causing her problems while she forced herself to live a normal civilian life. Why couldn't she have given herself a normal, scientist's life? In her panic to try to control her power, Stephanie chose to retreat into a humdrum, safe existence. But she had quickly regretted doing so.

In the midst of her reverie, shouts erupted from the ground outside the building. A pin point and a trail of smoke was heading with alarming speed right at the window out of which she had been staring. Stephanie knew from reading about the buildings on campus that they could withstand a barrage from any branch of the U.S. military–excepting the Marines of course–but the thick glass wouldn't be able to hold up against a Stark missile, which was engineered to gain momentum and thus force as it traveled. "I'm not going to make something that is immune to my best seller. That's just bad business," Tony Stark had said at a highly publicized conference where he adamantly refused to fund an adamantium window.

She reacted instinctively. The scientists behind her were frozen in their fear and surprise at the sudden danger–as far as they knew, there was nothing they could do. The Stark missile would hit and the resulting explosion would ignite the chemicals that were on every floor and burn up every body that was within its walls. Stephanie braced herself against the glass, feeding her power through every atom. She felt her power run through her fingers and out of her face into the glass, creating an abstract web that would hopefully absorb the missile's explosion. Hopefully, her "Immunity" was enough.

Even though her eyes were closed, she could feel the impact against the palms of her hands, and her knees, and her cheek against the glass. She pushed with every muscle in her body against the resulting explosion, forcing all the fire outward. The scientists behind her had already vacated the floor, hoping to reach the exit on the ground level in time, so nobody was there to see her as she threw her netting around the missile's explosion and willed it to launch away and upward. If luck was on her side, the outer layer of the Earth's atmosphere would absorb the missile and everything she had sent up with it.

A large cracking sound started in front of her closed eyes. Slowly she opened them, and realized what she had forgotten. By pulling her Immunity netting out of the glass right after it had been hit, its molecular structure buckled underneath her fingers. Stephanie didn't have the strength to push away from it onto the safety of the seventy-fifth floor which, thanks to her, was still intact. The glass crumbled and she fell forward into the open air. But she was too tired to care. Maybe there was enough Immunity left in her body to cushion her fall to the ground. She doubted she would die, but it would still hurt.

The feeling of falling through air changed to something more comfortable. Stephanie felt like she was in the arms of a man, a very muscular man who smelled very nice.

"Are you alright, miss?" came a deep voice. It rumbled from a very muscular chest that was pushed up against her arm. Stephanie slowly opened her heavy eyelids again.

"Oh...I did die."

An angel was holding her. He had the face of an angel at least, with golden yellow hair that glinted in the sun. His wings made powerful whooshing sounds as he flapped them.

"No, you didn't," he laughed. He examined her body as he held her. "Not a scratch."

"There shouldn't be," Stephanie replied without thinking. Her words were slurred, and she felt so tired. She had closed her eyes again, so she couldn't see him raise one eyebrow.

"What's your name?" he asked her.

"Stephanie DeMarco."

"That's a pretty name," he replied, smiling to himself. She was a pretty woman.

"What's yours?" she asked sleepily.

"Warren. Warren Worthington."