Training was hard here, she realized. It wasn't just the fact that she hadn't worked out in several years and had the muscles of a five year old girl. It couldn't be. No one could be meant to work this hard, surely. Wasn't the entire point of mutant abilities that you didn't have to work as hard as normal humans to be badass? Apparently, it was not. Just being invisible was definitely not enough to not get beaten up by Mystique, it seemed. Or Toad and Sabretooth on occasion, as well. She and John had to learn how to shoot, something she turned out to be spectacularly bad at, and how to fly a helicopter, which she was less awful at. John managed to almost crash the helicopter into the ocean at one point. Magneto was there for all the flying lessons, after that.

Vague hints had also been given concerning the purpose for their training, apart from the "for your own betterment as individuals" Magneto first had given them. He had, in passing, mentioned ideas about a mutant community, some sort of haven for the genetically different a little larger than some school he referred to. Claudia had wondered about this school he mentioned. Was there what, a mutant school? Did they teach you superpowers? And could she go there, because some superhuman strength and endurance seemed tempting at the moment. She decided she would have to ask someone about it.

She found an opportunity later that evening, when she ran into Toad in what passed for a kitchen. In a way, she was relieved. Even though he was antagonistic at the best of times, he still seemed the most approachable, and in a way most normal of the Brotherhood. He and Sabretooth both seemed a lot less aloof than Magneto and Mystique, but Toad had the advantage of not scaring her to death. Or at least, he did so in a different and slightly more subtle way. And he had less fangs and claws and other things normal mutant beings really shouldn't have.

"What school did Magneto mean?" she asked, seeing no reason to try anything but a direct question to break the somewhat awkward silence that had previously prevailed in the room. Toad looked at her, eyebrow raised.

"Not sure 'e's the man y'should be getting educational advice from, luv"

"What? No, I mean, I heard him talking about some grand plan about some mutant haven that he referred to as bigger than his silly school or something? Is there some kind of secret mutant school where they teach you superpowers? 'Cause that'd be cool."

Toad looked at her for a minute, eyes narrowed. Then he burst out laughing. Claudia watched in bemusement, as his amusement at her ignorance slowly died down.

"A school where y'learn superpowers. That'd somefin', I agree. But nah. It's the X-Men, y'see, their headquarter's a school."

Claudia pondered for a moment. The name seemed somehow familiar. She seemed to have heard it on the news, or something. Something that Kelly man her roommate seemed to agree so much with had mentioned the name.

"X-Men... Sounds familiar. Weren't they a terrorist group or something?"

The expression on his face seemed to be one of both exasperation, annoyance and quite a bit of smug satisfaction.

"Sort of, yeah," he said, smiling at some joke she had yet to get. "They say they want mutant rights, like us, though. Seem to think they'll get it by bein' all nice to the humans, savin' 'em and things. Led by some bald bloke Magneto says 'e knows. They tend to try and sabotage our missions, for some reason. Calls us counterproductive. Idiots fink they can make a difference by bein' nice an' meek. Never worked for anyone, that."

"Oh," was the most articulate answer Claudia could give to that. Saving humans was bad now? She could see his point, though. The manic anti-mutant activists that she'd often heard about but never really paid any attention to would probably not be persuaded by a a few freaks with superpowers being nice now and again. She wondered what the actual plan for a mutant free haven Magneto actually had.

"So, what actual plan does Magneto have for this mutant free haven?"

"Mystique only knows," Toad said, leaning back in his chair. She flinched a little as his tongue shot out, and he used it to retrieve a beer from the fridge. He grinned at that. He did that a lot, she noticed. He seemed to try to freak her out, a lot. But then, if she had an extra limb that allowed her to pick up stuff four yards away without moving, she probably would too. It just looked so... Wrong. How did he even fit a 16 feet tongue in there? She looked at him quizzically.

"Mags, y'see, doesn't wanna give too much away to us. Says we might be a risk. In case we get caught on a mission, in case they got a telepath."

Claudia had no good reply to this, and instead busied herself with the complex and demanding task of making noodles. It was still the only edible thing she had found. She would complain, one day. One day when she felt a little more like a member of the team and a little less like an incompetent nuisance.

.

Toad wondered how Magneto planned to use the new ones. Sure, the boy had fire power, couldn't argue with that, and he had a lot of anger he would probably love to take out on humans. He didn't have any skill, though. Managed to almost sink a bloody helicopter. He wondered whether the boy wouldn't be more of a danger than a help on missions. He seemed like the type to attack before asking questions, even before being quite sure he knew who he was attacking. Too wild for any missions involving discretion or sneaking. But then, Magneto had managed to tame Sabretooth, he could probably knock some sense into the little pyromaniac, given time. The girl was another thing, though. Sneaking he didn't doubt she would be good at, was in her nature, after all. She seemed to be learning how to fly fairly well, too. He hadn't seen her crash yet, anyway. But she was fairly helpless in a fight. Didn't seem to know what to do when someone hit her. Had too easy a childhood, that one. Most mutants were forced to learn some sort of self defense, sooner or later.

"What sort of missions," she began, pausing for another mouthful of noodles, "do you do anyway?"

"Depends on wha' Magneto needs us doin'. Tryin' to get new recruits, at times, like when we got you two. Usually lookin' for more, though. Specially when the boss comes along."

She wrinkled her eyebrows in confusion. "That's all? That's your every mission, and with the two of us you're all of six?"

"Course no', you idiot. Anyway, the X-Men're very fond of stealin' our recruits. Even 'ad someone defect to 'em," he added bitterly. That had been an ...unfortunate affair. She had been such a talented girl, though she stubbornly refused to admit it. A shame Sabretooth couldn't tell, or possibly couldn't remember or care. It had been worryingly long before the healing factor had kicked in, afterwards. He claimed to have no memory of the affair. Magneto had lamented their lack of a telepath after that.

.

"I wish we could get a signal here. There has to be some mutant out there who has the power to always get a good signal... I wanna find that guy."

John was less than impressed with the TV's performance. It had been showing them static for the last twenty minutes, but John refused to give up. Claudia was on the sofa, waiting. She didn't have anything better to do. Apart from the training there really wasn't that much to do on the island. No internet, and all the books looked quite boring and academic. She had tried a few, but they all went into ridiculously complicated explanations of the biology of mutation. It didn't really interest her, not enough to spend the time trying to figure it out. And so, the television room was where she and John often ended up if no one else was there. John had, on occasion, gotten some kind of signal, and at one point they had caught five minutes of some horrifying reality show. They had, naturally, promptly changed the channel, which had caused the signal to go away again.

"Do you think they're training us to be terrorists?"

The question came quite suddenly. It was a lot more serious than most of things that came out of his mouth. She would have to think about that for quite a long-

"Yeah. Technically, at least. Old freedom fighter vs terrorist problem. But I guess that's what they- what we are, really. We just also happen to be the more or less good guys. Ish."

John frowned, and seemed to think for a moment. Then he nodded, looking a bit dejected. They sat like that for a while, in silence. The TV kept showing static, yet John stared into it, lost in another world. He looked so young and innocent at times, far too much so to be a super powered terrorist in training. She knew he wasn't that many years younger than her, and probably not all that innocent either, though. From what she gathered gaining mutant powers made you grow up fast. The gods only knew what it must have been like for Mystique or Toad. Or did visual mutations begin at birth? She wasn't actually sure about that. She guessed it would be easier that way. Suddenly waking up blue and scaly would have to be fairly freaky.

Her ponderings on the subject of Mystique's childhood was interrupted by loud footsteps approaching. Sabretooth. She and John looked at each other, neither particularly eager to face the man. With an apologetic look she made herself invisible, and hurried out into the corridor, and from there in the opposite direction of the sound. A weak shout of "You bastard!" followed her. She knew, of course, full well that Sabretooth could smell her, but perhaps he wasn't paying attention. Or something. She couldn't quite grasp exactly how his superhuman sense of smell worked. Was it like sight? Was the smell of her movement as noticeable to him as the sight of her running out would have been had there been one? She would have to ask him, at some point when she was less convinced that would eat her if she did something wrong.

She wandered through a series of corridors after that. Sometimes life on the island felt like one of those TV sets where they keep using the same corridor over and over again, changing perhaps a detail or two to get away with it. It was quite confusing, but she had begun to get the hang of it. There was the corridor in which she and John guessed that Sabretooth's room was (it smelled of fur, with a slight aroma of undercooked meat), and the corridor with the training room, characterized by the faint odor of sweat and the cracks and holes in the concrete walls, in addition to the suspicious, dried brown flecks occasionally spattered around. There was the kitchen corridor, which smelt like a student's cupboard, and the corridor leading to the hangar, with the occasional oil pit on the floor and lots of boxes with strange contents which made odd, rattling sounds when you poked them. A lot of the place was identified by smell, she noticed. Must be easy for Sabretooth to navigate.

After what was probably a longer walk than necessary she wound up in her room. It was a little more hers, now. Mystique had found her some more clothes, normal clothes. Some of them weren't even black, just a sort of dull, indescribable browny gray colour. She had refused to tell her where they came from, and they were too short to have been hers. She wondered if they could have belonged to one of those deserters Toad had mentioned. It was a creepy thought. The room also had a few things in it, now. On the floor next to the mattress was a small stack of books. They were all a bit too dull and educational, but there were limits to how much one could sleep. A couple of water bottles stood in a corner, and she had managed, on a quest that took two days, to find a new light bulb for the ceiling ...light bulb. She picked up On the Nature of Mutants volume VI: The Role of the Amygdala in Telepaths by a C.F. Xavier. She opened it and sighed. She had a feeling sleep would come easily.

.

"I need you to find someone for me. I need you to make him understand that he ought to consider joining us."

"Course. When ya want me t'leave?"

"Not yet, not quite yet. The matter isn't that urgent. I want you to take the girl with you. I would have suggested you take the boy as well, but I don't think he has the, ah, people skills for it yet. But I want you to make sure you think the girl can handle it before you leave. I do suggest you begin the mission within a week, though."

"As you wish, sir."

"You don't think she will be ready?"

"She might be. Who's the targ- the potential recruit? Wot's 'is tricks?"

"A Remy LeBeau. A Southern gentleman. Rather distinctive eyes; red on black. He channels kinetic energy into objects, making them somewhat explosive. I do believe he also is a quite capable thief, so keep your wallet safe. I want you to stake him out for a day or two, find out if Charles has sent any of his after the man. I should not think so, though. He doesn't seem quite obedient enough for my old friend."

"As you wish, sir."

A grin spread across Toad's face at the thought of a new chance to meet the X-Men. They were always good fun.

Author's Note: D'you want me to continue having bits with Toad's POV? Am I writing them well enough to bother keeping those bits? Should there be more? These are the questions that plague me at night.